"Mmm," Gojyo mumbled, his mouth feeling cottony and tasting vile. His face was buried in something soft and silky, which was kind of nice, except it was making it hard to breathe. He pulled his head back a bit and stretched. His legs both felt like they had fallen asleep. Aw, damn. He'd only been half on the bed when he'd passed out. He slid his arm back around the waist of the body next to his and gave it a quick squeeze. Chicks dug that sort of thing. It made it a hell of a lot easier later. He was a bit confused when it registered that this one was still wearing a dress. Had he been too drunk to get that far? A brief survey revealed that this one either had a very oddly shaped hip bone or was also packing heat. Whoa. Gojyo's arm retreated swiftly, and his eyes flew open to assess the situation properly.

Shit. Gojyo stared at the slumped form lying next to him. The crumpled sutra was pretty distinctive. "Well, there's a first time for everything," he thought philosophically, "even sleeping with a priest." Sighing heavily, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Memories of the night before were slowly sliding into place in his head. Brushing his mud-encrusted hair out of his face, his eyes lingered on the sleeping blond curled on the bed. It really was a shame the guy'd become a priest. He was quite the looker when he wasn't scowling and aiming his damn pistol in people's faces. It was odd, though, that abstinence seemed to be the only tenet of Buddhism that the priest really seemed to respect.

As if the sleeping priest could feel the eyes fixed on him, his brow furrowed, and his hands twitched. Gojyo shook his head in amused disbelief, and turned back to more pressing matters, like how he was going to regain feeling in his legs and whether Hakkai was still alive.

Ignoring his protesting legs, Gojyo managed to stumble the couple of feet separating the two beds. It must have been be fairly late in the day because bright light was streaming into the tent through the open tent flaps. Hakkai's form was still unnaturally still, even for his normal controlled calm, but his face was no longer whiter than a sheet. Some color had crept back into his cheeks, and his breathing was regular, if shallow.

After hovering awkwardly over Hakkai's bed and feeling useless for a couple more minutes, Gojyo decided that he really needed a damn shower, and he needed one now. His legs still felt stiff, and he hadn't really regained feeling in them yet, but he thought that, if he watched carefully, he could probably put them more or less where he wanted them to go.

The guards at the tent flaps had other ideas, though. Their rifles menacingly gestured him back inside. Gojyo was sorely tempted to strangle them. Apparently, they didn't sleep in the middle of the day ... or appreciate the seriousness of feeling like something the cat dragged through the mud and then left under the porch to rot. Stupid, selfish bastards.

"Look, you want me to piss on you or in the bushes? It's up to you." He realized belatedly that he probably should have ditched the blanket still tied around his neck.

The soldiers were still looking stubborn, but they were exchanging looks and seemed uncomfortable. Luckily for them, Sergeant Nu showed up just then. "Ah, I see you're up." His eyes slid from one tense face to another. They settled on Gojyo's. "What can I do for you?"

Two hours later, feeling much more relaxed, Gojyo re-entered the medical tent wearing baggy army fatigues. His right leg still twinged when he wasn't careful, and he'd left the splint in place for extra support, but, thanks to his youkai heritage, it was already mostly healed. And the guys weren't all that bad. He'd even managed to win a pack of cigarettes playing poker with Sergeant Newbie. The guy's eggs were terrible, and so was his poker strategy, but he'd been helpful and had even secured hot water for Gojyo's bath.

Raised voices could be heard from the far end of the tent. Glancing at the line of beds, Gojyo noted that Hakkai was still unconscious and Sanzo's bed was empty. Ah. His holiness was having words with one of the soldiers. He headed over to see what they were going on about, Sergeant Nu following in his wake.

"That's not my problem!" That would be Sanzo-sama. He sounded pissy, probably had a hangover. Served him right for hoarding the sake. ... 'Course, he's kinda cute when he's angry ... and when he's drunk off his ass.

"I see." There was a tense pause from Tenjo, whose arms were crossed and eyes were narrowed. "Well, your friend here isn't exactly my problem either, is he?" He nodded his head toward Hakkai.

Sanzo's hands were no longer manacled, and the right one was clenching like it wanted to be holding something—a pistol, most likely. Negotiation wasn't really his strong suit, especially when he hadn't had his coffee.

Gojyo stood behind the two arguing figures and slung an arm around each of their necks. "Yo!" he called cheerfully, leaning heavily on them to be sure he had their attention. "So, what's up?"

Both heads swung around and stared at him. Sanzo's eyes were narrowed, and they tracked up and down in disapproval, taking in the army fatigues and the damp hair. Tenjo just looked flummoxed by the water sprite's casual behavior.

Gojyo was oblivious, though, as he stared at what was lying in front of him. The cigarette that had been nestled between his lips tumbled to the ground unnoticed. "Uh, dudes." He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. Nope, still there. He shook his head in disbelief. "Isn't that, ummm, isn't that Yaone-san?"

"Possibly," Tenjo answered shortly, exchanging a glance with Sanzo. "This youkai was found dead, crushed in the cave-in. It wasn't as lucky as your friend. Rubble was piled all around him, but only his legs were buried."

"Shit. Tough luck," Gojyo murmured, frowning. "And she's not an 'it.'" He shook his head again and met Sanzo's eyes. "Damn, but Hakkai's gonna have a fit when he sees this."

Sanzo's arms crossed over his chest, his hands disappearing inside his long sleeves as he turned back to the battered corpse lying on the cot in front of them. "I wonder," he responded cryptically. "I doubt I'll have to read a sutra for this one."

"That's cold, man! I mean, she was working for Kougaiji and all, but still!" Gojyo grabbed Sanzo's shoulder to get his attention and glared at him.

Sanzo shook his shoulder free and slipped an arm out of his sleeves to point at the corpse. "Look carefully, idiot!" Sanzo turned the lifeless head from side to side and stared expectantly at the redhead next to him.

Gojyo stared at the dark, trailing braids; the thick, parted bangs; the delicately pointed ears; and the bruised and battered face and neck. He shook his head, irritated. "I don't get it! She's a youkai. So what?" She probably wouldn't really want a sutra read, but Hakkai might. What the hell was his holiness on about now?

"The pattern on her neck," Sanzo growled, pointing again. "Bruises are never that regular."

Gojyo's eyes swung back to study the neck more carefully. There were two very symmetric black triangles on either side of her neck. "That's ... weird," he admitted, "but that's definitely Yaone's face, man. I'd know it anywhere. I mean, she is ... uh, was, hot and all."

"Those markings were barely visible last night when they discovered the corpse. Apparently, they match the markings of a king cobra snake. And, according to the medics," Sanzo's eyes flicked toward Tenjo, who was now conversing in low tones with Sergeant Nu, "that's the type of venom they found in Hakkai."

Gojyo frowned, confused. He didn't know what type of youkai Yaone was, but he was pretty sure she wasn't a snake youkai. They had distinctive markings, and he'd never seen any on her before. "So, this isn't Yaone?" he asked in disbelief. Other than the strange markings on her neck, it certainly looked like Yaone.

"Who knows," Sanzo answered, dragging out a cigarette and lighting it, "but this is probably what attacked Hakkai, and therefore I'm not inclined to read a sutra." He blew a puff of smoke in Gojyo's face.

Gojyo's eyes watered briefly as he stared at the set lines of the priest's face. He'd seen that look before. That look meant that someone was in his way and wouldn't be for long.

"Right, which is why I proposed that we collaborate here." Tenjo had apparently finished his conversation with Sergeant Nu because he was once again facing Sanzo with a determined look in his eye. "You seem to have considerable experience dealing with youkai, and we have a youkai problem. You help us sort out our youkai problem, and we'll help your friend get back on his feet ASAP."

Sanzo pushed past Gojyo and glared up at Tenjo. He hated people who towered over him. "And I said," Sanzo growled, "Your youkai problem is none of my concern. I have a monkey to fetch. Fix your own damn problems!" With that, Sanzo stalked past Tenjo, robes swishing, toward the tent's flaps.

Gojyo's gaze darted back toward the youkai corpse, then slid to Hakkai's still form, and finally rested on the departing priest. "Hold it there, Sanzo." The priest spun and glared. "If Goku's really lost, we'll have a better chance of finding him if more people are looking." He turned to Tenjo. "We already cleared out most of the youkai in the area. What do you expect us to do? We're travelers. We're not staying. Besides, it didn't look like you needed that much help with them."

"We don't need help with those riffraff. They're annoying, yes, but we can certainly handle them. The problem is that we've been suffering from surprise attacks by creatures that inject poison and decompose their victims. I've already lost several men, most of whom we've never found, but the village has lost a good third of its population over the last two weeks. And that's a problem. It looks like your group has been targeted as well. I don't know who or what this Goku is, but we'll help you look for him if you'll cooperate with us on the venomous youkai. We're pretty sure this isn't the only one." He gestured toward the corpse.

"Fine, whatever." Sanzo growled, turning back toward the tent flaps. "We owe the bastards anyway for what they did to Hakkai. Just don't get in our way!" This time he really did leave, and Gojyo headed out after him, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his newly acquired army fatigues.

"Thanks, man. We're counting on you," Gojyo called without turning, waving his hand casually as he passed through the flaps.

ooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooo

"Piiiing poooong!" a cheerful voice sang out. "Someone's being a naughty boy." The sound of disapproving clucking echoed over the P.A. system in the room of Rasetsunyo. Kougaiji whirled away from the bulkhead doors where he'd been using his body as a shield while he attempted to burn out the locks.

"What shall we do to make sure he doesn't try again, Bunny-chan?" Kougaiji froze for an instant, then darted over to where Lirin was lying limply on the couch, and dove on top of her. He could hear an explosion off to his left, and he felt chunks of concrete land on his back. Most of them were small, but a few were large enough to leave bruises.

"Oniii-chaaan," Lirin moaned. "You're heavy. Get uuup." She pushed ineffectually at the body sprawled over hers and coughed fitfully as the dust settled around them.

Kougaiji slowly pushed himself up off the couch, carefully surveying his surroundings. He'd learned the hard way that the bastard could be rather unpredictable and devastatingly callous. His arms stiffened. The column. His mother's column. A large crater was glaring at him just above of his mother's bowed head. Bits of her hair, chunks of concrete still clinging to it, hung down around her face. Some of it had been ripped free of her head and lay in winding trails on the floor at her feet.

His face turned deathly pale and twisted into a bitter grimace of barely repressed fury. "You fucking MONSTER!!" he roared, racing toward the column, knowing he couldn't protect it or even touch it when all the warding spells were still hanging in place.

"Oh, dear! And in front of your mother, too. How shocking. Brats today have no respect." The voice crackling over the P.A. system sounded deeply amused and gratified. Kougaiji saw red as he bounced off the wards and landed flat on his back, his mother and her hair entirely beyond his reach.

"Don't you DARE speak of my mother! You insidious WORM!!" Kougaiji's chest was heaving, but he had regained his feet, and was now facing one of the cameras installed in the high ceiling.

"Hooooh? After you were the one who put her in jeopardy? I thought we had an understanding. You don't try to escape, and I don't detonate the column. Next time I'll set them ALL off. It would be inconvenient if you wandered off just now. So stay put like a good dog."

Kougaiji seethed and trembled with anger, wishing he could wring the smug bastard's neck. This was getting him nowhere, and it might provoke another attack. He couldn't afford to lose it now, not when his mother was depending on him.

"Onii-chan ... are we gonna eat soon?" Lirin had rolled halfway off the couch. Her face was pale, and her body drooped. She'd been angry when she'd first realized that they were captured, and she'd paced endlessly, looking for exits and demanding to be released, but, as the weeks had passed, she had left the couch less and less often. Now her voice was a mere shadow of its former self.

Kougaiji's gaze flicked from his sister's limp form back to the swiveling security camera. She'd held out longer than he could ever have hoped or imagined. She was a child, for all her bravado, and it was his responsibility to protect her. He could humble himself for that. He could. And he'd pay the bastard back a hundredfold later. Right now, staying alive was more important.

"Lirin's hungry," he finally managed to choke out. His voice was remarkably even, but his eyes were fixed on the dusty cables strung along the walls. Defeat tasted bitter in his mouth. To think that it would come to this, that his family would fall this low. He hadn't shed a tear when his father had died. The bastard could rot in hell for all he cared. But he would never forgive that vile, conniving slut for imprisoning his mother and then inviting that human bastard into the palace.

"Well, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement," Ni's satisfied voice purred, his voice echoing in the huge, empty room. "I'll send Hwan with food, but I'm going to need a blood sample. So make sure you cooperate. Bunny-chan's counting on you."

Kougaiji's eyes closed, and he sighed. Sometimes he envied that human priest, Sanzo. He only ever fought for himself, or so he said. Kougaiji had his doubts sometimes, though. The bastard was strong, and so were his minions, but surely even he would humble himself to save their lives. He couldn't really have nothing precious in his life, nothing worth protecting.

When he turned around again to check on Lirin, he saw that she'd fallen back into a fitful doze, her head hanging off the edge of the couch, the knuckles of one hand brushing the floor, and her boots tucked behind one of the battered cushions. No, he couldn't honestly wish he had nothing to protect. He just wished he could be stronger or smarter so that the people who were precious to him wouldn't have to suffer.