Author's Note:

Thanks for venturing to chapter 2!

For the sake of this fic, please assume that Gojyo and Hakkai have and still do sleep together. Naturally! Whether frequently or infrequently, I'll leave up to your imagination ;) Are they candid about their feelings towards one another? What are their feelings? I haven't decided yet...There will be more about this later on, but it might be good to keep that bit of framework in mind for this chapter.

If you don't remember what happened in "Saiyuki: Requiem" or haven't seen it, here's a little info: Gojyo wasn't stabbed by his "mother" or by Houlan (though she tried to!) as Hakkai assumes, but by Dougan disguised as Hakkai. This plays an important part in Gojyo's angst ;) My apologies if Gojyo's reactions are a bit confusing, but it's not supposed to be all spelled-out yet.

Similarly, it'll be a while yet before what happened in the beginning of the fic gets sorted out. Um, it's a mystery!fic? Not really ;) It's easy enough to follow the "timeline" though, right?

HUGE thanks to Sorchafyre, jaunt, and Marron-chan1 for reviewing and sticking with this. Many, many apologies for the ludicrous time between chapters.

Big thanks to Marron-chan for her input on Chapter 2! glomps

Enjoy!

(Same warnings and disclaimers apply).

Ch. 2

"Who…who are you?"

Goku organizing a hunger strike would have seemed only mildly more surprising to Gojyo at that moment.

"Who am I? Bara, what the hell-" A spike of pain tore through Gojyo's chest, stealing him of breath enough to communicate his abject disbelief. With a low moan he stumbled forward and clutched at a nearby table for support. Despite her confusion, the young woman hurried to Gojyo's side as he struggled to stay upright. Bara braced him with a steadying arm before gently guiding him into a chair beside the table.

"You look terrible," she observed, then added quietly, "Why do you know my name?"

Before he could even consider an intelligible reply, a door behind the counter swung open, admitting two men talking to one another in low voices. Their conversation halted abruptly upon sight of Bara and the injured half-breed. Gojyo recognized the taller of the two as the owner of the hostel – a stocky man with charcoal-black hair slicked away from his squared face. The other man was less familiar, young and handsome in his own right, if a bit skinny.

"What's going on here?" the owner barked. His hard gaze lingered stonily on Gojyo, an unreadable expression schooling his features.

"I don't know, he just-"

"I'm looking for the others I left here with," Gojyo interjected. As curious as he was to hear Bara's account, the innkeeper's flinty expression suggested that anything less than answering directly would produce unpleasant results. Gojyo then flashed an abashed smile and gestured towards his bloody clothes with feigned indifference. "Maybe I could get a little help with this too, ne?"

"I think he's hurt pretty bad, Yadon. He's not making any sense," Bara said with a somewhat apologetic look towards Gojyo. For a moment, the man merely stood and examined him, grimacing in either confusion or anger.

"Never seen 'im before in my life," Yadon ground out. It wasn't without effort that Gojyo concealed a resurging wave of surprise. His pride was beginning to hurt as much as his body, being so easily forgettable. "What do yer friends look like?"

Gojyo groaned dramatically to hide a curse and prepared to launch into an explanation when he abruptly stopped himself, exasperation giving way to suspicion. At every turn of their journey, countless attempts had been made to topple the Sanzo-ikkou - from mobs of incompetent club-wielding, sutra-hunting youkai, to seemingly innocuous innkeepers merely looking for some coin. Yadon could be the cause of his predicament, he simply had no way to remember. At the least, Yadon would have leverage in knowing their party was crippled. Gojyo nearly laughed at the thought of some backwater town with enough muscle to overpower them, but he couldn't shake the gnawing doubt. Couldn't stop worrying. They hadn't been traveling in secrecy lately, yet Gojyo was hesitant to broadcast the presence of a Sanzo priest, even if that notability alone was sure to lead him to the others. He reluctantly decided that describing everyone was safe enough, and may even amend someone's lamentable memory.

"My friends? Hn, more like the three annoying bastards I'm stuck traveling with. There's our esteemed leader - a pissy blonde, pretty enough to be a woman. Touchy enough too. Then the overly polite guy with the monocle, and the mouthy kid. No way you could forget him, he damn near ate everything in town between dinner and this morning." Gojyo couldn't help but grin to himself. He'd never pass by an opportunity to complain about everyone, especially free of a retaliatory shove or an ear-ringing slap of the paper fan. As reluctant as he was to admit it, even only to himself, he'd gladly accept such punishment rather than face his current situation alone. Gojyo's smirk slipped away as the two men looked to each other blankly; not even the faintest sign of remembrance registered on their features. Bara's gaze darted between the others before finally resting on Gojyo, she forced her lips into a placid smile despite the smothering tension.

"Look, you're obviously not from around here. Maybe you and your friends went someplace else."

"Quit fucking around with me! I know there's only one inn in this piss of a town." The outburst earned him nothing but harder stares and a sharp glare from Bara, anger flaring molten in her eyes. Gojyo realized that he was quickly losing any semblance of an ally in the young woman and tried his best to look contrite, if not entirely apologetic. He was frustrated, and hurt. Shivers of pain still crept across his flesh, as his head pulsed in agony. He considered getting patched up before pursuing his companions' whereabouts further but was determined to get some answers, so long as his body would allow. "Dammit, we stayed here last night. I can point out our names in the ledger."

He couldn't be sure of finding their actual names at all, but it was easy enough to spot Hakkai's ridiculously apparent aliases. Gojyo always knew when Hakkai had a hand in things, whether it was four "brothers" names inked in delicate penmanship, or a clean ashtray where haphazard cigarette-stuffed beer cans once were. Hakkai's wake was subtle, yet unmistakable, like new leaves scattered on the ground after a rainfall. Gojyo suddenly longed for Hakkai's presence. For his strong hands and warming chi to seep away the worst of his pains. An irritated snort from Yadon interrupted Gojyo's mental wanderings. The innkeeper – puffed up with indignation – had situated his considerable girth directly in front of his suspicious guest, looming darkly.

"Like hell I'm gunna let some mongrel paw in my records." He literally spat the words; stray spittle clung to his mustaches, which quivered with barely-restrained emotion. Though not explicit with his contempt, Yadon's insult was apparent. As soon as he spoke Gojyo was on his feet in a rush of fury. He wasn't exactly sure how he managed to stand in the first place, but he strained to keep his right leg from collapsing as it screamed in protest against his weight. It was difficult to look intimidating while struggling to simply stay upright, but Gojyo stubbornly met Yadon's black gaze with a slicing glare of his own.

"We. Stayed. Here," he drawled impatiently. "This is the only godforsaken inn because the other burned down in a youkai raid last year. How else could I know that, huh?" Yadon clenched his jaw, demeanor not changing a whiff.

"Anyone in town could've told ya that," he grunted.

"You need more?" Gojyo jabbed a finger in Bara's direction. "Hell, I can tell you what her room looks like!"

Shit.

For a moment no one so much as breathed; the fire murmured and emitted a soft hiss of splitting logs. A tide of emotions battled for dominance of Bara's expression. Her eyes widened with surprise, then just as quickly narrowed into dangerous slivers, brows drawn down fiercely. She opened her mouth as if to speak but found herself without words, lips working soundlessly. A single eyebrow quirked on Yadon's forehead but he gave no other indication of reaction. Gojyo flinched at a sharp laugh from the young man who had remained notably silent until that point; he'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Any man in town could have told you that." A thin feral smile distorted the youth's otherwise handsome features into something cruel and ugly. Clapping a hand to his shoulder, Yadon's deep guffaws accompanied the man's malevolent sniggering. Gojyo mused that the man could've stayed on his good side if he'd only kept quiet and looked pretty, but he ruined all that the moment he opened his mouth. Then again, Bara was probably thinking the same about himself.

Any further thought was brutally dispelled when a tremor of agony gripped him suddenly. Gojyo clutched instinctively at his chest, his lungs convulsed sporadically as though his ribs were painfully straining to meet and interlace. A defeated groan escaped as he collapsed to the floor. His sight rapidly darkened, then eked out entirely.

Not for the first time in this life, Gojyo doubted his chances of waking up; whether because of the current inflictions carved throughout his flesh, or a knife slid across his throat. Briefly, verdant eyes and a practiced laugh flickered into mind, dowsed by the black wave of unconsciousness.

Earlier…

"Perhaps we should stop for a moment," Hakkai offered to staunch Goku's relentless pleading for food and a warm fire. Characteristically, Sanzo was reluctant to concede to the monkey's routine gripes, but he offered a rough grunt of consent and settled himself on a rock.

"All right!" Goku punched a fist to the air victoriously. "I'm starving!" He happily shucked his pack then bounded over to Hakkai to help with preparations. Despite Goku's show of enthusiasm, all four of them were physically exhausted and mentally weary. Not only was a brief rest prudent, but also painfully necessary. The small snowflakes that pattered harmlessly against Hakuryuu's windshield the day before had transformed into a full-fledged blizzard overnight. Dense snow drifts and laden slate-dark clouds marked the Sanzo party's morning departure. Slow and equally tiring travel followed. Hakuryuu had doggedly persevered on the near-impassable roads for a good couple of hours; Hakkai occasionally laughed or offered reassurances of safety whenever the tires slipped or their trajectory "altered" abruptly. Even this became impossible when they landed themselves and their Jeep nose-first into the remnants of a moderate landslide; not because of reckless driving, of course, the blockade simply cropped up unexpectedly. They opted to continue on foot and from higher ground, hoping to avoid ending up beneath a similar pile of bouldered snow and splintered trees.

The detour had led them through hillsides smattered with trees, which groaned with the weight of the snow on their branches. Their trunks creaked in the strong wind like old bones, threatening to topple. They had stopped near a rock outcropping that formed a narrow cave, which offered meager yet welcome protection from surges of frigid wind. Goku accomplished the seemingly impossible task of gathering enough dry wood to form a fire, then began to carefully arrange the kindling per Hakkai's patient instruction. Once a small tent of sticks was prepared, Hakkai looked for Gojyo to ask for the use of his lighter.

He expected the kappa to be directly over his shoulder, ready and eager to insult Goku's handiwork. Instead, he was perched on the ridge of the hill, solemnly peering across the white snow-heaped landscape. A particularly long trail of ash fell from Gojyo's cigarette; his breath billowed and melted amidst the smoke. He was brooding. Had been since the struggle at Dougan's lair a few days earlier.

However, none of them had come away completely unaffected. More than once, Hakkai noticed Goku attentively watching Sanzo as if the priest could disappear in the space of a blink. Sanzo himself was notably moody and quick to temper, more so than usual, but Hakkai couldn't confidently attribute such behavior to the situation with Dougan. It was possible Goku's blatant attention was rumpling Sanzo's robes - he always seemed keen to Goku in that respect. Hakkai was also all too aware of how uneasy he'd been after the encounter with Kanan's specter, though he had ample practice battling that ghost of a memory. He was unable to recall a single day gone by without an attempt to dispel her smile from his mind, or the image of that long knife sheathing itself deep in her bowels. He couldn't decide which had felt more glorious - seeing her gentle face again, or mauling that same face with a blast of chi. Then again, he didn't have to decide. All he had to do was smile enigmatically and let out a short laugh. That tactic had become quite versatile, useful really. So much so that the recipient of such an indecipherable expression quickly gave up trying to interpret its meaning, if they even tried in the first place.

Gojyo had just as many years of practice masking raw emotion, but the haunted shadow in his wine red eyes was as painfully apparent as the scars flush across his cheek. Smartly, none of them made a habit of opening old wounds by discussing such emotionally saturated tussles as the one with Dougan. Not unless something directly influenced acquisition of the sutras. During their brief drive to joining battle, Gojyo offered evasive answers and hedged on giving much information later, so Hakkai could only guess at what Dougan had dredged from his memories. He concluded, with little doubt, that Gojyo was visited by the cruel phantom of his mother. Few things could imbue such a look of helpless shame upon his friend as the mere mention of that woman. Hakkai was even more certain when Gojyo meekly requested he leave the deep wound below his ribs unhealed.

Hakkai had been ministering to the mostly superficial scrapes and bumps inflicted by what was lately Dougan, when Gojyo grabbed his wrist, halting his chi-infused palm above the injury.

"Don't," he began then lowered his eyes. "Please. Leave it be."

"Gojyo..." He tried to replace the worry in his voice with level sternness. "You have no penance to pay."

"I deserve this, Hakkai."

Gojyo had reluctantly allowed Hakkai to heal the gouge partially - enough so that he wouldn't bleed out or be in much real danger of aggravating his condition. Hakkai, equally reluctant, agreed not to tell the others, yet made it abundantly clear that he would fully restore Gojyo - willing or not - if the wound hampered his fighting ability enough to endanger anyone. Whenever Hakkai noticed Gojyo clutch absentmindedly at his side or grimace as Hakuryuu cleared a particularly large bump, he couldn't help but wonder if he had welcomed the blade into his body. It wouldn't have been the first time Gojyo's mis-assigned guilt and self-loathing led him to unflinchingly accept "due" punishment for his existence.

However, Hakkai could just as easily see Houlan's petite hand plunging the knife beneath Gojyo's ribs. He felt she was less than forthcoming from the beginning; disingenuous, if not all out working for Dougan. Hakkai's suspicions were somewhat confirmed when he found Gojyo with Houlan in the woods - her hair a spill of chrysanthemum red down her back. If she had been the one to injure him, acting on orders from Dougan or not, Hakkai had no doubt Gojyo would readily forgive her. Being a half breed molded his friend's identity, his hair and eyes inexorable from his self. Only another child of taboo could be fully sympathetic to his situation. Surely Gojyo sought this shared understanding, perhaps not actively, but it would be difficult to sever such a bond.

He remembered with a twinge of jealousy how emphatically Gojyo urged Houlan to remain safely in the forest, wanting desperately to protect her. Remembered the raw anguish in his voice as he pleaded against her self-sacrifice, and how he'd instantly withdrawn afterwards. With admitted selfishness, Hakkai hoped Gojyo was acting out of unresolved guilt towards his mother rather than wanting a keepsake from the half breed girl.

His contemplation was disrupted by a firm nuzzle against his jaw from Hakuryuu. The small dragon stretched his neck out from the nest he'd made atop Hakkai's shoulder, where he burrowed warmly under his cloak. He gave a querulous chirp and quirked his head, bead-like ruby eyes studied his face

"Ah ha ha, Hakuryuu, if you would please?" Hakkai smiled warmly and gestured to the crude fire pit. Hakuryuu obliged with small flares of breath until the smoldering sticks caught light.

"Finally! Any food we can cook up over this? Some sweet potatoes, or..." Goku chattered hopefully, mostly to himself, as he rummaged through their largest pack. Sanzo had since walked into the cave and lit a Marlboro. He stood unhurriedly smoking and surreptitiously warming his backside near the flames. For a moment Hakkai thought he'd have to call Gojyo over, or remind him that he needn't ponder away in the raw cold, but the half breed began to saunter towards the rest of the group.

"Look, I can see smoke from a village thataway," Gojyo said and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Instead of picnicking in this freeze-your-ass-off hellhole, I'll go on ahead and find us a real place to put our feet up." He sounded sincere enough and there wasn't much harm in his idea, but Hakkai ventured that Gojyo was grasping at opportunities to isolate himself. As if withdrawing during his pensive moods wasn't enough.

"It would be best to stay together, especially in this weather, Gojyo." Smile. "There's potential for another avalanche at anytime, or a visit from our youkai friends."

"Yeah, what's the rush?" Goku piped in a touch uncertainly. His deceptively young-looking face adopted the same shade of concern he wore lately when watching after Sanzo. Snow always heightened Goku's anxieties about being abandoned and left painfully, eternally alone. In fact, it was commendable Goku hadn't sunk into the same despondency that engulfed Gojyo, given the circumstances. Just as quickly as the wary look appeared, it was replaced by a toothy grin. "Afraid your antennae are gonna freeze off, perverted cockroach?"

"Shut up, chatty monkey, you stink like wet fur," Gojyo rebutted reflexively. His banter lacked its usual playful lilt, sounding more irritated than teasing. Finishing off a cigarette with a long, lazy drag, he flicked the butt into the snow and let out a languid sigh of smoke. "So what do you say, oh exalted one?"

Hakkai was relatively surprised that Gojyo was deferring to Sanzo, almost asking permission. It wasn't like him. Then again, everything about Gojyo was slightly misaligned since the clash with Dougan. If Sanzo was fazed as well, he didn't exactly show it, but he scrutinized Gojyo a touch longer than usual.

"Hmph. Do what you like." Whatever the priest was thinking, his averted gaze and casual smoking exuded pure indifference. At least until an almost imperceptible smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Besides, you have practice wandering off on your own."

Barely-concealed guilt and anger flared in Gojyo's expression, he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Even in so few words, Gojyo knew Sanzo was insinuating when he ceded from the party to exact his personal vendetta against Kami-sama. He knew he had been rash and selfish, possibly even jeopardized completion of their larger mission, all for the sake of two dead boys he could never hope to bring back. He was silently grateful for the lack of admonishment from the others. They inherently knew his regret was punishment enough. Hakkai drew a breath to say something, anything, to relieve the tension but Gojyo regained himself enough to speak.

"Yeah, guess I do." Though Sanzo had clearly gotten to him, Gojyo quickly dampened his reaction with nonchalance. Smirking, he took a step towards the blonde, and reached his open hand from the warm confines of his cloak. "I can try to get us some rooms on good looks alone, but that gold beauty you keep in your pocket seems much more irresistible."

"You are not getting anywhere near the credit card, you witless moron," Sanzo seemed personally affronted by the very idea. He ground his cigarette into a nearby rock as if to emphasize his displeasure at the thought.

"And here I was trying to be nice. Well, have it your way," Gojyo threw his hands up in a defeated shrug. "I'll just find myself a nice warm bed and a nice warm body. When you guys get to town and there are no rooms left, you can thank your holy prickness."

If he intended to provoke Sanzo to argument, the priest was far from riled. He began to calmly tap another cigarette from the pack, completely disregarding Gojyo's presence. So with that, Gojyo turned away and trundled through the snow to the lip of the ridge.

"Gojyo-" Hakkai stopped himself; he didn't know what he could say to persuade him to stay, or if he should even try. Maybe this was what Gojyo needed - a short time away to confront himself. Without looking back, the redhead fanned out his hand in a small wave of response. Before long, Gojyo became obscured amid the relentlessly falling snow. His form melded silently into the icy wilderness, disappearing entirely.