: Perfect World :
Gensomaden Saiyuki
Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.
Rating: K+
Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: AU-ish, angst, language, shounen ai
Notes: Early update since I won't be here for the weekend to do it.
Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
He was as uneasy about leaving Hakkai behind as Gojyo was. Sanzo admitted it, though only to himself. And it didn't have anything to do with being attached; it was merely that they were up against gods, and they would need all the muscle and intelligence they could get. Which, he thought in annoyance, they were now notably lacking in the latter department. Even so, he said nothing to Gojyo about it; he wasn't in the mood for a fight.
But he was ill at ease. That didn't mean he had to twitch every damn second. And if Gojyo didn't stop twitching, however subtly, Sanzo was going to give him a damn good reason to.
Atop his shoulder, seeming to sense his owner's anxiety, Hakuryuu hesitantly butted Sanzo's head just behind his ear. The man reached up, giving the dragon a quick pet of thanks he would never voice, even to an animal.
"Feels like everything is going too fast," muttered the redhead beside him. Surprisingly, Sanzo agreed. Something should have slowed them down... and yet, nothing did. More and more, it really was becoming obvious that they were missing something vital in their team.
Shoving the idiotic notion out of his mind, Sanzo placed his hand on the door before them. He gave a firm push, and to his mild surprise it opened easily.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of food. It was strong, coming in a mingle of several scents; well-cooked meat, all types of rice cooked in rich soy sauce, fresh fruits, and countless others that escaped him in the heavenly mixture. He narrowed his eyes skeptically, refusing to be allured. He caught sight of the long table of food. From the corner of his vision, he saw Gojyo looking equally apprehensive.
"Welcome," a pleasant, unfamiliar voice said. Light in the room blossomed, taking the focus off the fantastic feast set before them. Seven robed men, all with crimson chakras in the middle of their foreheads, stood at the other end of the long table. "We've been waiting for you."
"You and everyone else here," Gojyo sneered.
Sanzo rolled his eyes. If nothing else, he certainly had that right. "What's with the extravagancies?"
The god smirked, waving a hand over the table. "Really, now," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "This was Lord Homura's wish. He wanted you to have one final meal. If you're worried about poisoning, you needn't be," he added just as Sanzo opened his mouth to retort. "Lord Homura wouldn't stoop to such low tactics."
To his right, Gojyo whistled through his teeth. "Did you hear that, Blondie?" he asked.
"That their leader is not only an arrogant bastard, but they have a false perception of him?" Sanzo replied acidly. The memory of his scriptures being stolen from him was all too fresh in his memory. That Homura didn't "stoop to such low tactics" was a complete and utter lie. Breaking his goddamn hand had been a cheating blow.
"Laugh all you want," another god snapped. "But you're the ones who are going to die here."
"Enough," the first god said sharply, turning back to the two with another condescending smile. "Really, now, these hostilities have no purpose. Please, have a seat." He stepped forward, pulling out a chair. "We can have a chat over dinner and wine-- perhaps we can make you see this is for the best. After all, Lord Homura only does this for the good of this world, and we merely live to serve him and his ideals."
As soon as he said that, Sanzo knew whose fight this would be. He hung back, folding his arms over his chest and biting back his sarcastic remarks. As he had once told someone, there were three things he hated most in the world; psychos, worms, and the rain. While these gentlemen grated on his nerves, he knew the man beside him was far more pissed than he.
Indeed, it was Gojyo who stepped forward, his steps sure and eyes half-hidden in shadows. It came as no surprise to Sanzo when the half-breed gave the table a violent kick, sending its contents flying. Food scattered everywhere; fragile china and glass shattered on the floor and walls.
"You people really piss me off. Rather," the redhead added coldly. "What pisses me off is that you're so eager to be someone's lapdog."
He definitely had that right, Sanzo decided. He took the distraction as an opportunity to take a better look around. That was when he found the double doors to the side.
As he started toward it, one of the gods protested. "You can't go--"
A chain of silver just barely missed Sanzo, the crescent blade of Gojyo's shakujyo embedding itself into the wall. The blonde hardly blinked, though he swore to get the half-breed back for the narrow miss later.
"Well, Master Sanzo," Gojyo began mockingly. As always, the nickname made Sanzo's eyebrow twitch. "It looks like you're on your own now."
Scoffing, the man replied without turning, "I don't need your help, anyway."
"Suit yourself." Even without looking, the priest knew his companion was smirking. This fight, to him, was going to be easy, maybe even let off some building stress. As though sensing things would only get ugly here, Hakuryuu let out a kyuu of protest before leaving his perch on his owner's shoulder. The dragon circled above Sanzo's head, then hovered in midair, facing Gojyo as though sensing something ominous that neither of them could.
Without a word, Sanzo opened the doors and came face-to-face with Son Goku.
-
Weary but determined to go on, his fingers scrabbled across the floor as he blindly searched for what he needed. He encountered several bodies and hot, thick blood before finally grasping the cold metallic clips. Relieved, Hakkai sat back on his heels, hurriedly fastening them to one of his pointed ears. His fingers kept slipping, and he dropped the limiters several times before he could get them on properly. His ears softened, melted down, grew round beneath his touch, and then he was only left feeling weak and drained.
His head was light, almost feathery. The man slowly got to his feet, taking a few moments to make sure he could stand balanced. He waited, listening, feeling for any sign of life or movement. At this point, any little mistake could prove deadly.
There was nothing.
He felt no relief in that; just a moment to ease his tense limbs and replenish as much energy as he could before continuing his quest onward. The muscles in his neck were bunched together, and he had to manually massage them into relaxing. It hurt his torn shoulder, but thankfully the wound didn't reopen much. At least, when he touched it, most of the blood was flakey or drying.
He had to find the exit. During the fight, much of his central energy had been depleted, so locating it through his chi -- as he had grown used to -- was now difficult. He could "see" hazy images in his mind, but in his state Hakkai was unable to tell a curtain from a solid steel gate.
Though humiliating, he eventually resorted to crawling to find his way about. Wryly, he thought that it was good he had killed all the god-demons; nobody could catch him in such an unsightly position. While he wasn't as arrogant as some, he still had his dignity to preserve.
After what seemed like hours, and he hoped was only minutes, he finally reached a doorway he believed to be the correct way out. Hakkai paused to wipe his bloodied hands on his jeans before using the handle to pull himself up. A bad habit to pick up, yes, but he couldn't stand the strong scent of blood. That and he only would have fallen again since the liquid would have made it hard to keep a firm hold on the door.
His foot connected with a stair. An intense wave of relief flooded him; he had chosen the right path. He felt for the handrail. The man began his treacherous ascent, stumbling too often, and inwardly berating himself for being too cocky during the fight. Hakkai had thought he could handle his demonic form and the power that came with it, but had forgotten that, in such a condition, his grasp of common sense often faltered.
Well, at least no one was perfect.
His shoulder cried out in agony with each pull on the railing, and he had to grit his teeth in order to not cry out. As he walked, his thoughts wandered. That was dangerous, since he knew his life depended on keeping his wits about him -- especially in his now acutely dangerous predicament -- but the gallivanting of his psyche was hardly controllable.
Interestingly enough, he thought of Gojyo's apology. Hakkai had known full well what it was for, had certainly been grateful for it, and it wasn't until now that he realized the full extent of it. Not just the concession itself, but of the entire situation surrounding it.
How odd, he thought. How odd to wonder if there was a chance his and Gojyo's relationship went beyond that of mere friends, in this time and place.
Then again, stranger things had happened in his life. Considering the ironies life kept throwing at him, why not ponder such a concept in the face of death?
The higher he went, the more he became aware of the energies above him. At first Hakkai thought he felt eight beings, and then one died and he was left with seven. Within seconds he could only count four, and by the time he stumbled into the room even that had been cut in half.
He was still weak, but could discern one of the lives as Gojyo's. With a mildly self-mocking smile, he leaned against the doorway and said, "My... did I miss all the fun?"
"Yo," Gojyo greeted. Hakkai remembered enough of the man's face to picture his smug expression. "Just one more to go. It took you damn long enough, you know." There was a strangled cry that definitely wasn't familiar. Hakkai decided it was his companion's last adversary.
"My apologies," he said, half sincere. "I had a little more trouble than I imagined."
"You think?" Gojyo snorted.
Hakkai opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short. Something felt off. There was a new sensation in the air, that of a faint life. It was similar to a sole flower's energy; dim but pulsing with the steady beat of existence. However, this wasn't so much like a flower as it was...
Magic, Hakkai realized. Belatedly, he said in a sharp warning, "Gojyo, get back!"
Even as he opened his mouth the magic was shifting, expanding and reaching out as eagerly as a starved child for food. The clack of beads reached Hakkai's ears, as well as Gojyo's curse. There was another strangled cry that was cut short, and the brunette could only imagine that Gojyo had killed him.
"It's still there," he said quietly, sliding to the floor. He didn't want to, but his legs refused to support him anymore. Weakly resting his head against the jamb, he continued, "The magic, Gojyo..."
"What magic?" the other man demanded. The annoyance in his voice slipped into a betraying note of fear; apprehension.
Shaking his head, Hakkai could only reply, "I'm not sure..."
"Hell," Gojyo said in disgust, obviously trying to wave it off. "The spineless bastard was muttering something about some Kaizai curse, but it has to be a bunch of bullsh--"
The expletive was cut short, and Hakkai vaguely understood why. The energy had ceased the random movement and had found a solid form. It had centered into one place, likely just a few yards away from them.
"Shit," Gojyo said faintly, though Hakkai wasn't sure if it was a finish of the old curse or a new one for a different reason. All the brunette knew was that the fear rolling off his friend was so strong and intense that it penetrated even through the haze filming his mind.
-
The light dimmed, though it didn't fade completely. As Homura lowered his arms, the scriptures fell with thick, papery thuds to the floor. He looked up, the mass of teal energy writhing in a reptile fashion above him. It was sensuous, hypnotizing, and took a lot of willpower to look away from.
Things were finally on their way to completion. All the New World Recipe required now was the earth's power. And that, he knew, could be found in the earth's child: Seiten Taisei Son Goku.
His heart beat too rapidly to let him fool himself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, the earlier attack hadn't been as much of a forewarning as he'd thought. With a heavy sigh, he stepped away from the pentagram.
Alarmed, Zenon said, "Hey, wait--"
"The pentagram no longer needs us," Homura assured him, hoping his exhaustion didn't show through. He knelt down to pick up the Maten scripture. He left the Seiten sutra where it was; he didn't need that for his bargain. "We have fulfilled our duties."
Reluctantly, Zenon stepped away, and Shien followed suite. Really, Homura couldn't blame either of them for not wanting to move. After all, he had been the first to really be amazed and enticed by the mass amount of power, even if he hadn't outwardly shown it.
"One more ingredient needed," he murmured, and then turned with a flourishing sweep of his cape. "Let's go."
"As you wish," Shien agreed.
Zenon merely grunted, hoisted his gun on his shoulder, and followed them out.
-
Sanzo wondered why he didn't shoot the boy.
Their footsteps were the only sounds in the vast, seemingly endless halls and stairways. Goku walked a couple feet in front of him, though the boy constantly glanced back. When he realized Sanzo was still glaring, the brunette always shifted his gaze away, his demeanor as that of a child caught doing something he knew he shouldn't be doing.
The silence was unnerving. Sanzo was hard-pressed to decide which he found more annoying; the boy's quiescence, or his loud chatter. Both had numerous disadvantageous qualities... but in the end, the man knew it was the quiet that disturbed him most. He was used to Goku talking. That was practically all the boy had done ever since they had first met.
Damn it all. He just couldn't win either way, could he? And here he was supposed to drag the brat west with them. Only if I'm allowed to take him dead, Sanzo thought irritably.
"How's your hand?"
The tentative inquiry was startling after such a long silence. The blonde stared at Goku blankly, pausing in his steps. The brunette stopped as well, his brilliant golden eyes fixed on a point past Sanzo's head.
It seemed he was scared to meet his gaze. Good, Sanzo decided.
"Shut up and mind your own business," he said icily, despite his earlier considerations. He started to walk past the boy, but to his surprise (and possibly Goku's) the brunette reached out and grasped the robes bunched at the priest's waist. He had let down the top of his robes earlier, not wanting any hindrances he couldn't afford.
"Let go," he ordered.
Goku flinched and immediately obeyed, but he spoke out anyway. "It was your own fault, you know." His voice trembled slightly. Though Sanzo noticed, he still wasn't in the mood to get into petty arguments, so he chose to ignore it. "You're just too stubborn."
Disgusted, Sanzo shot back, "And you're an idiot."
"I am not!" Goku bristled, his voice hot. "Why are you always callin' me that! I've gotta be pretty damn smart to kick all three of your guys' asses!"
"Muscle and intelligence aren't the same thing, monkey," Sanzo returned flatly. "And you're the ones who made a stupid request in the first place." He started walking again, and this time it was Goku who followed.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Goku muttered. "It's just a piece of paper."
Sanzo felt his blood rush in a sudden surge of heat, and he resisted the urge to smack the boy silly. He's just a moron, the blonde had to keep reminding himself. Morons were born the way they are. Aloud, he said, "Well, it certainly isn't 'just a piece of paper' to your leader, is it?"
There was a brief silence after that, one that went on so long Sanzo was sure he'd finally shut the boy up.
Instead, Goku finally said, "It's not... I know it has powers an' stuff... but..."
Growing impatient as the brunette hesitated again, Sanzo growled, "But what?"
"You don't seem the type," Goku finally admitted. "To want power, I mean. I just... I get the feeling that if someone offered you the world and everything in it, you'd call them stupid and never speak to them again."
This time it was Sanzo's turn to stop. He turned back to the boy, staring at him in disbelief. Why, he wondered bitterly, was the kid always hitting so close to home? Why was he constantly predicting the most abstract things about him, when most others couldn't? For as long as he had known Goku, the boy had never been able to predict anything he thought. Rather, he only seemed to understand what Sanzo often never put into words; he sensed intangible, deeply ingrained notions and ideas.
Hakuryuu squeaked, reminding Sanzo of the dragon's presence. He absently reached up, rubbing the tiny, scaly head to let Hakuryuu know he hadn't forgotten him. At the same time, it gave him something -- anything -- to do while he gathered his thoughts.
"You really are an idiot," Sanzo muttered faintly, gripping the handrail tightly. Goku just shrugged, so the blonde decided to continue their journey upward.
"An idiot," Sanzo repeated after a few more minutes of unbearable silence. "Do you even have any idea what Homura's plans are?" He was aware that at this point he was only trying to fill the silence, but he could hardly care less.
Sounding offended, Goku said, "Of course I do. He told me what he wanted when he released me from the cave."
Ignoring the sudden tingling sense of déjà vu, Sanzo said, "Enlighten me. It's not like we have anything better to talk about."
"He wants to create a new world, a perfect one," the boy replied, his voice tight. "Because this one is tainted, and..." He paused. "He wants a place to... escape to, I guess."
"You guess, huh?"
"Well..." Now the boy sounded uncomfortable. "I don't know... all the reasons. And some of the ones I do know are... none of your business," he finished, clearly mimicking the man from earlier.
Scoffing, Sanzo muttered, "Sounds more like you just don't want to talk about them."
"Maybe," Goku relented. "But it's still none of your business."
"We'll see," the priest stated flatly, coming to a stop. A large set of unusually elaborately decorated doors stood proudly before them; unusual, because all of the entrances to new rooms had been, thus far, plain and simple.
"He's in there," Goku said from behind him.
Narrowing his eyes, very well aware that this was more than likely a trap, Sanzo stepped forward. He pushed the doors open, using a lot more strength than he'd realized he would have to use. They were heavier than they looked.
Inside the room was bland in contrast to the doors. The rocky pillars each supported a flaming torch, and the walls were filled with cracks and blemishes that somehow looked intentional. A long, royal red carpet started a meter from the door and continued several yards into the room and up to a throne-like chair. In that chair, and on either side of it, were the people he had come to see. With a smirk, Homura stood.
"Welcome back, Goku. And it is a pleasure to see you again, Genjo Sanzo."
