: Perfect World :
Gensomaden Saiyuki
Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.
Rating: PG
Pairings: mentioned Homura/Goku, lightly implied Sanzo+Goku
Warnings: AU-ish, angst, language, violence
Notes: Thanks for all the reviews.
Constructive criticism and feedback are appreciated.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was the second time Goku had woken up to find the curling stench of blood permeating from his own body. He sucked in a breath too quickly. A choking fit turned into a series of dry heaves as he forced himself onto his back.
His body hurt. That came as no surprise, though he couldn't understand why. Goku felt disjointed; out of place. Something was wrong, but exactly what was beyond his grasp at the moment.
Then he realized how warm it was.
When he inhaled this time, it was slowly and through his nose. He quickly regretted that, as his senses were overwhelmed with the sickening smell again. Groaning, he opened his eyes.
The sun stared down at him, his expression cold and impassive. Furrowing his eyebrows, Goku tried to recall if he had done anything in particular to anger the man. His voice thick, as though he had just woken from a deep slumber, he mumbled, "Sanzo...?"
The man's eyes scrutinized him, searing through to the bone. Then Sanzo stated, "I didn't think you were into calling people by their proper names."
At first Goku didn't understand. Then his eyes widened, and he sat up so quickly it made his head spin.
He was back in the forest, with wire cutting deeply into his flesh, his mind whirling as he struggled to find a way out of the trap he had stumbled into. Sumi stared at him with her white eyes, without pupils or irises or any color to indicate she could see him at all, even as she criticized his every move. Then darkness, but filled with the sensations of rage and the sounds of her screams.
Only now he couldn't hear her voice. He just heard strange words, almost like a prayer. And the voice was far from female.
"Gods," he breathed, guilt swamping him as he took in Sanzo's tattered and blood-stained robes. "Did I...?" Trailing off, his words dangling unspoken in the air. He reached out hesitantly, and when he didn't receive even a glare, he dared to touch the man's wounded shoulder.
As though woken from a stupor, Sanzo snapped to attention. He hissed, jerking away from the boy's touch as his eyes hardened. Harshly, he said, "Yes, you did that. Are you satisfied now?"
Stricken by his words, Goku could only shake his head mutely. His hands balled into fists in his lap—the hands streaked with the blood covering Sanzo's body. He chanced a glance upward, wincing as he saw the barest of tremors unsettling the priest's body. His casual attitude, as though he was far from injured, was clearly an act he was barely holding together.
And, strangely enough, Goku had enough sense not to mention it. Rather, he clamped his lips together and lowered his head.
Then it occurred to him. "Sanzo?"
"What?"
The man's voice was curt, but Goku tried not to take it personally. "I thought you were mad at me. For... you know."
Stealing the scriptures. He could feel Sanzo's eyes burning at him, but the man didn't remark on them. "I'm going to kill you when this stupid ordeal is over."
"Then why'd you stay?"
A thousand reasons could have been given, but they both very well knew only one would be the honest answer. Goku didn't expect to be given that answer; partially because he himself wasn't entirely sure what it was, and partially because he doubted even Sanzo fully understood. He could sense the man silently groping for an appropriate answer. But he seemed to come back with only an empty hand, for he said nothing.
At last, Sanzo spoke in a strangely quiet tone. "Homura's inside." The statement made Goku jerk. Wildly trying to meet the man's eyes, but failing as Sanzo stared stubbornly at the wall, he could only stare helplessly. "The new world," the priest added unnecessarily.
Goku turned his head to the doorway. He couldn't recall seeing it before, yet the sight was not unfamiliar, either. In the depths of his mind, where that monster's memories resided, was likely where the first instance of glimpsing the new passage lay.
And Homura was just beyond the doors.
It was difficult to describe how he felt in that moment. Surges of anger were rapidly washed away by waves of frustrated pity; and even that was canceled out as the sensation of utter betrayal pressed down on him. He was hurt, desperately worried, wanting to seek out solace, and wanting to give comfort all at once. Even stronger was the tidal wave of pure emotion – love, he knew – that gave him the strength he needed to get to his feet.
"I have to get him," he whispered. His mind was made up all at once, even as it was torn in two directions. After this, he wanted to leave—he wanted to go with Sanzo, wherever he went, because the man was his sun and he needed that warmth to help him grow. But he couldn't go anywhere without Homura, because he needed him to care for him in ways no one else could. And, even more selfishly, because he wanted to care for someone as deeply as he already did. He couldn't do that without Homura.
He turned to look at Sanzo, pleading without words. There was no reason to ask, given the man had never agreed to take Goku with him on his journey. Especially since Goku had never truly been on his side anyway, when sides were forced to be taken. At the same time, it felt so natural to ask for permission first—as though Sanzo had been the one to rescue him from the cave, and not Homura.
The man regarded him with something akin to contempt. Why ask me? his expression demanded.
"Sanzo?" Goku asked tentatively.
Grunting, the man forced himself to stand as well. The effort seemed to take more out of him than it should have, and Goku briefly worried Sanzo had lost too much blood, or that his other form had given the priest a more grievous injury than he could tell by just looking at him. However, once on his feet, Sanzo seemed to breathe more normally. He turned away from Goku and limped across the floor. A barely audible hiss sounded as he bent to retrieve an item—his gun.
Then, flatly, he said, "These bastards used the powers of the scriptures to create the new world. Which means that the damn world your partner—" Goku was taken aback to hear Sanzo say the word as though it was a curse. "—made is going to overlap ours."
Goku noticed the next object Sanzo picked up was one of the scriptures. The blonde turned to him, scowling at the confusion on his face. What he said, however, made Goku feel faint with gratitude.
"And if I've learned anything about you, it's that you can't finish a job on your own."
------
If a melody could form into a visual effect, then it would have taken on the image of what Homura saw before him. Tantalizing energy pulsated in the air, taking on a faint shade of blue as it seemed to concentrate into a sole area.
The scene was something that had taken Homura by surprise; yet once giving it some thought, he had realized it shouldn't have been too startling. Everyone in the heavens knew of the legendary heretic Son Goku's birthplace. Mount Kaka, located at the edge of a fray of mountains at the end of a long valley flourishing with white and yellow wildflowers. Gentle slopes made up the hills from the mountain shaped like a pillar, gliding down into the meadow and easing into a place of flat, smooth land.
Homura had continuously called the new world his, but in reality it was Son Goku's. The scenery came from the boy's deepest memories, ones he couldn't even imagine; his memories of birth and kidnapping and finding a home and a family, before losing it all in a bloody whirlwind. Tilting his head back, the god took in the pleasant sight of a pale blue sky, scattered with tufts of pure white clouds. Their shapes were oddly reminiscent of cotton candy. Despite himself, Homura couldn't help but smile at the thought.
Then the smile vanished.
He took a step into the meadow, hoisting his sword on his shoulder so as not to ruin the flowers any more than he would by just walking. While this may have been derived from Goku's memories, they took on a form of one of Homura's. The scents of blossoms were tantalizing, setting seed to a bittersweet ache in his chest that made it all the more difficult to breathe.
Even so, he managed to whisper, "Look here, Rinrei. This is the world of which we dreamed. Here no one will scorn our affections. Here we will be free to express our love in actual words, without having to rely on puzzles and riddles so that the gods will not discover our secret."
It did not seem strange to him to talk to the ghost of a woman he hadn't spoken to in centuries. He had the stinging feeling that her spirit was unlikely to gravitate to a world she had never set foot in. Nevertheless, he continued—for he knew he would never have the chance to speak to her again.
"The gods cannot – will not – look down on us here. I am free to love you openly, and you are free to return those affections if you should so wish. Here..." He trailed off briefly, struck with the memory of the toy he had found in her home. His voice subdued, he finished, "Here we may start a family, begin our own life, and live as we wish. At last, Rinrei, we are free."
Even before he sensed the new presences, he turned. Instinct, perhaps—or maybe he had felt them, but had refused to acknowledge them until he was finished. He had not wanted to be interrupted.
Goku stood mere yards from him. Behind him was Konzen's new incarnation, but for the moment, Homura held no interest in him. His eyes were drawn to the brunette's posture, taking in the arms hanging limply at his sides; yet his fists were clenched in contrast. White outlined his tense lips, and Homura could tell from his jaw that he was biting the tip of his tongue.
"Welcome," he said calmly, extending his free hand in a semi-circle to gesture their surroundings. "This, Son Goku, is the new world we have created."
The boy inhaled sharply through his teeth. His voice, when he spoke, was as bitter as green blackberries, long before they were ready to ripen. "I liked the old one better."
It was a surprising struggle to keep his tone measured, but Homura managed it. "Did you?"
Catching the past tense, Goku corrected himself angrily. "I do."
"That is a pity," said Homura softly. "Before you met Konzen, you were thrilled to help me create this, even knowing what I had in mind."
"You never told me I couldn't ever go back to the real world," Goku accused.
Homura had nothing to say to that. The boy was right.
Instead, he shifted his stance, spreading his legs to get a firmer grip on the ground. The inevitable was arriving. "In that case, I would suggest we fight for it." Gold eyes widened a bare fraction, but the change of expression didn't slip by the god. "Yes," he said in response to the unspoken question. "Whoever wins shall decide which world will stay—and which shall be destroyed."
Implied was the concept that the winner also decided who died, if anyone. Homura saw the gears turning in Goku's head. He didn't bother telling him no matter what the outcome, he was going to die.
Half-breeds don't live forever.
Goku stared at him, an expression of mingled disbelief and frustration highlighting his features. After a prolonged silence, he held his hand out to the side. Without a word, his staff materialized beneath his palm. He curled his fingers around it.
"Deal."
Homura stripped free of his cloak and threw it to the ground.
------
He was scared.
Goku defended himself to the best of his ability, but could not find it within himself to go on the offensive. Homura wasn't holding back—not as much as he usually did, in any case, because Goku could feel the dramatic difference between this fight and their usual practice sessions. This time, there was intent to kill.
Yet all Goku could muster up was the determination to stay alive. He had no hopes of wearing Homura down—the man was a god, for crying out loud, and Goku's mentor to boot. It was all he could do to follow Homura's movements and intercept a deadly strike in time.
For the first time he could remember, Goku didn't want to fight. The almost erotic thrill of battle that used to fill him – when facing a new opponent, when going one-on-three with Sanzo's group or even when sparring with one of his three teachers – wasn't there. In its place was a void; an absence of something crucial. What he really wanted to do was talk to Homura. He wanted answers.
Perhaps he could still get them.
He barely caught the movement of Homura's arms in time. Using Nyoibou to block the man's sword almost had no effect; he found the broad blade a mere inch from his face. Goku paled. His tongue moved uselessly in his mouth, before he could get his throat to work.
"Why... are you doing this?" he grunted out. His arms strained as the attack turned into a battle of strength; Homura pressing down on him, Goku trying to maneuver and allow himself enough room to lock his arms and properly defend himself. "You're acting... weird."
Homura said nothing, and that only made him angrier. Gritting his teeth, Goku dug deep within himself, clasping onto power he had been previously afraid to use. This, he knew, was his only defense now.
He shoved hard, managing to inch the blade away from his face. "I don't understand—" Goku slid his foot over the grass, the movement feeling slick. Footing was hard to find without any dirt. "I don't understand," he tried again, gasping with the effort to fend off and speak at the same time. "I don't understand... why you're trying to—" He broke off with a yelp as Homura abruptly changed tactics, swinging the blade back and in a crescent as though to take his ankles out from beneath him. The boy leapt back, hissing as the tip of the sword grazed his shin.
He lost his temper then. Momentarily forgetting the battle, Goku yelled, "I don't understand why you're doing this! What the hell's wrong with you? Homura!"
The man heaved a sigh, sliding back into his usual posture; lax, poised, and non-offensive. For the first time since the battle had begun, he looked Goku straight in the eye.
"You claim not to understand. All I have to tell you is, 'That is how it should be.' Son Goku," he added, subtly mocking him.
Goku felt his hackles rise. Clenching his teeth, he shifted into an offensive pose, gripping both ends of the staff. It took only a thought for Nyoibou to split into three even sections, each connected by three small, surprisingly strong chains. In return, Homura took a step back, raising his sword until the blade was even with the boy's nose.
The tense pause was broken by a click. Goku saw Homura's head turn sharply, even as he located where the sound had come from.
Sanzo stood a good distance from the two, eyes narrowed at something past both of them. Arm straight and only lightly bent at the elbow, his Smith & Wesson was cocked and aimed.
"I don't have time for this," was all he said, his voice curt. And then he fired.
Forgetting the man's safety, Goku whirled to see where the bullet flew. He caught a streak of lead, then another blur that was less perceptible. A loud clang sounded – where had he heard that particular noise before? – and the second blur became visible.
Homura.
Sanzo had shot at the mountain, Goku noted somewhat distantly. The one that seemed to be gathering writhing energy that was almost alive. And Homura, for reasons unknown to Goku, had blocked it; almost as though that mountain – or the energy – had a great amount of significance.
Clearly unharmed from the priest's attack, Homura spoke. "How unfair," he said, his voice smooth. Then he launched himself at Sanzo.
Blind panic moved him more than anything. A simple word crossed his mind – No – and Goku was moving faster than he could remember. He had never been this agile before. He shouldn't have had a hope of intercepting his mentor's attack, and yet...
Yet he found himself in front of Homura, his staff somehow keeping the man in place despite Nyoibou being sectioned into threes. The squeal of blade against chains made the back of Goku's teeth grind almost as loudly. Homura's expression was unreadable.
Furious, Goku let go of one end of the staff, swinging out with the other. The force and set of the chains knocked Homura's weapon to the side, though not out of his hand. Recovering quickly, Homura swung his blade toward the ground, barely skimming over it before rounding to Goku's head. The boy let out a scream, lashing back at him with his makeshift nun chucks.
Homura was forced to retreat a couple steps. And behind him, Sanzo was breathing and alive—as well off as he could be, despite the bleeding from previous wounds. Goku tried not to think about them, even as he smelled the blood.
He took a deep breath, and then exploded. "You bastard! You never play dirty tricks like that." When Homura said nothing in defense, Goku's voice heightened to match his anger. "Why the hell aren't you fighting for real? You never take me seriously, damn it!"
As though to punctuate his shout, Homura abruptly drove his sword into the ground. The weapon tilted slightly, but otherwise remained upright, gleaming back at Goku. Shielding his eyes from the harsh light, Goku blinked as he saw the god reach up and touch one of his shackles. He unclasped his chains and let the heavy weights fall with a deafening thunk. All Goku realized was that the ground beneath where the shackles lay was now cracked where it hadn't been before.
Quietly, Homura said, "In that case, Son Goku, I shall grant you what you most desire."
