A/N: Sorry there was no update last week. I wanted to make sure everything hung together properly. :) Although, honestly, I've revised this chapter so much that, by the end, I just wanted to chuck it out the window. I hope it's okay. As always, I sincerely appreciate any and all feedback. Thanks for reading!
As they were passing the outskirts of the camp, Gojyo waved cheerily at the sentries. They frowned and clutched their weapons, but apparently word had spread that the two travelers were now allowed to come and go as they pleased. A flushed and frowning Li brushed past them, her eyes catching on them briefly before she called a curt acknowledgment to the guards and continued striding rapidly toward the center of the camp.
Gojyo's head turned a bit to follow her until she disappeared out of sight. He turned back to Sanzo, who was also frowning. "Witchy looked like she was in a bit of a hurry," he commented lightly.
"Mmmm," Sanzo grunted in acknowledgment and continued forward, his hand slipping through the slit in his robes to drag his pistol out of his pocket and flip it open.
"So, fearless leader, where're we gonna look first?" Gojyo asked, leaning into Sanzo's range of vision to get his attention.
"Hell if I know. You're the one who lost him." Sanzo's cigarette twitched as he spoke, and he pointedly ignored the red hair swinging in front of his face.
"'Kay then." Gojyo pulled back, and surveyed their surroundings as they continued to walk forward. "Guess we'd better go look where I left him. Maybe he's just sitting in one of those trees an' pouting 'cause we forgot about him." He didn't believe a word of it, but there was no point getting all worked up when they didn't have any information. Sometimes no news was good news. Gojyo pulled out one of his new cigarettes and fumbled for a lighter. Damn. He'd lost his back at the army camp. He glanced over at the scowling priest. "Uhhh, Sanzo, d'ya mind?"
Sanzo glanced at him, tossed a lighter at his head, and then sped up so that he was walking in front. Heh. His Holiness really was missing his monkey. The brat could be a bit much sometimes, especially when he insisted on stealing food from other people's plates, but at least he wasn't a repressed bastard. Gojyo lit the cigarette, pocketed the lighter, and followed the swishing muddy robes that were now fluttering in front of him.
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"Sir!" Li burst into the medical tent, and scanned the room for signs of Captain Tenjo. The guards had told her he'd be here, and they damn well better be right. Her eyes fixed on the black beret floating above the sea of camo and white lab coats. "Sir!" she called again, and shoved her way through. Tenjo looked up from a clipboard to stare at her impatiently. "We've got a problem, sir. The villagers. They're refusing to go near the mine."
"What?" Tenjo snapped, brow furrowing. He shoved the clipboard at a nearby medic. "Why? We need to make that shipment. It's overdue as it is."
Li's head bobbed in acknowledgment. She knew as well as he did that, without high-quality iron ore, their country would be defenseless against the hordes of youkai monsters. If no more shipments were sent, at the very least they would all be facing a court-martial for gross incompetence. "Sir, it's the cave-in. As you know, the youkai attacks have been reducing the village's population for weeks now, despite our patrols. After their monk went missing last week, they've been virtually unmanageable. The cave-in was the last straw. Another three miners went missing during the clean-up operations, and now they refuse to work for us anymore, no matter what we pay them."
Tenjo brought his hand to his forehead and nodded sharply. "Understood, lieutenant." He turned to the man next to him. "Sergeant Nu, take a squad and go check on the cave's status. See if Sergeant Rei's men are done clearing the entrance. If they are, relieve them of their duties and send them back to camp."
Nu nodded. "Sir!" He saluted and turned to leave the tent.
"Oh, and, sergeant," Tenjo continued. Nu turned back to face his superior. "Be vigilant." Nu nodded again. "Dismissed." The soldier was gone.
"Lieutenant Li," Tenjo turned back to the redheaded liaison officer, "let's go have a chat with the natives about appropriate contract negotiations."
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"Nasty," Gojyo grumbled, holding his nose as he sloshed through the swamp. "The reek's familiar, and the muddy shit's back, but are you sure this is the right way? I mean, the sun's starting to go down and all. Shouldn't we have gotten there by now?" His right foot slid treacherously out from under him again, and he latched onto the nearest tree. This terrain was fucking hell on a recovering leg injury.
Sanzo turned and sloshed back toward the panting water sprite. "If you're so smart, then, by all means, you lead the way."
Gojyo grinned disarmingly. "Nah, couldn't see a thing last night. Except your ass, of course." Sanzo loomed dangerously close, his eyes hooded. "Very nice ass, too," Gojyo continued with relish.
The blond priest seized Gojyo's chin. "I'm warning you," he hissed, glaring, nose inches from the redhead's. Gojyo's grin relaxed as he leaned forward just far enough so their noses touched. A challenge. For a breathless moment, calm scarlet eyes stared frankly into startled violet depths. So? Whatcha gonna do now? No fooling. Cards on the table.
Sanzo's brow furrowed. He hesitated, searching eyes flicking over the face violating his personal space, then backed away as if scalded, his eyes flashing. "Right. That's it. You're going first. Put your fucking antennae to good use for once." His Holiness still looked a bit off balance, his face cycling through unreadable contortions, but his imperious finger wasn't wavering at all as it pointed into the distance. Back off.
Gojyo's eyes fluttered briefly, and a smug smile slipped back into place. Right. 'Kay then. He pushed away from the tree and slogged forward, passing the wary violet stare. One small step for the incredibly long-legged Sha Gojyo, one giant leap for His Iciness. No violence. Definitely an improvement, although maybe a bit of wrestling was exactly what was called for about now. Shrug.
The water sprite forged ahead into the great unknown with a confident swagger. They'd get where they were going when they got there.
An hour or so later, Gojyo had given up deliberately swinging his hips as he walked. Sanzo had been silent since they'd switched places. Apparently, his ass wasn't as attractive as The Lord High Blond Bombshell's. Nah. Couldn't be. He actually worked out. Blondie was just blind. Meh. Priesty-boy's loss.
Gojyo winced as a sharp shape once again jabbed into his useless army-issue socks. Noting the presence of a convenient rock outcropping, he stopped and flopped down onto it. "Rock in my shoe," he announced, and glanced back at the priest, who had caught up to him and was now leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed and head turned pointedly away. The light really was fading fast. Gojyo could barely make out the symbols on the ever-present sutra. Lowering his eyes, he focused on the filthy boot perched in his lap. Ugh.
The priest's stomach growled. Gojyo's head rose from its unenthusiastic examination of his boot laces. Blondie was trying to pretend he didn't know any stomachs, and, if he did, they certainly weren't his. "Wanna snack?"
Violet eyes regarded him with suspicion. "You have food?" he asked accusingly, as if Gojyo had been withholding this whole time.
"Yeah," the redhead answered, digging through his pockets. "I was saving it for monkey-boy, but ... Ah! Here ya go." He withdrew two foil packets. "What'll it be? Pretzels or trail mix?" He grinned and waved the two packets invitingly.
Sanzo stalked over and grabbed both. "Hey! Can't I have one?" Gojyo protested, reaching out to snatch one back.
"No." Sanzo stepped out of range. The bastard could be really cold sometimes. It was hardly Gojyo's fault they were lost. "One of them's for Goku. You've had yours."
Irritation warred with amusement on Gojyo's face as he sat on the rock, muddy boot lying across his thigh. The sight of His Holiness popping open a foil packet of pretzels and shoving an entire handful in his mouth, however, decided it. The kappa's shoulders started shaking with repressed laughter. The bastard really was starving ... and oblivious. He hadn't looked up once since opening the packet.
In the interests of conserving ammunition, Gojyo clamped a hand over his mouth until the urge passed. Dragging his attention back to his boot, he started untying and loosening the slimy laces. He'd gotten the muddy boot off and was shaking it to get rid of the offending rock when he noticed a glistening thread swaying in his peripheral vision. Immediately alert, Gojyo tensed and conjured his shakujou, still holding the heel of his boot in the other hand.
Eyes darting around, Gojyo caught a stray gleam reflecting off a shiny surface. He focused in on the area and recognized the object as a jointed black leg. It was hanging from a branch directly above Sanzo's head. "Move it, Sanzo!" Gojyo yelled, and dove for the startled priest.
The two foil packets, one mostly empty and the other untouched, dropped immediately. The blond's hand had just pulled the pistol free when his whole body was thrown off balance by a heavy weight colliding with it and driving it into the muck.
An angry hiss sounded from the vicinity of Gojyo's exposed right ankle as the spider's head whipped around to face them. Shit. Through the red fringe of his hair, Gojyo could see that the fucking monster's body was over five feet long. And it was wicked fast. It had missed pinning Sanzo under it by a hair's breadth. Before either of them could move, the long, deadly legs had already cut off their escape routes to either side as the monstrosity hovered over the mud-splattered figures.
Sanzo's elbow connected solidly with Gojyo's gut above him as he shoved the water sprite out of his way and brought his pistol to bear on the translucent eyes hovering over them. He fired once, twice, deadly accuracy causing an eye to go dark with each shot. Before he could fire again, though, the spider's body had leapt aside and was perching in a tree once again, its shiny black segmented legs tapping ominously on the branches.
Gojyo rolled away from the priest and onto his feet, panting and clutching his stomach with one hand and his shakujou with the other, boot long forgotten. "You bastard," he hissed, glaring up into the trees at the hovering arachnid. "What the hell do you want!?"
Sanzo was standing next to him, dripping slimy muck from head to toe, but his pistol was aimed directly at the hovering spider. No fucking way was he letting it out of his sight.
Ooze dripped from two of the spider's eight eyes. Its fangs clicked together sharply. "Hand over the scripture, human," it hissed in a deep, reverberating voice.
Sanzo's eyes narrowed, and he resisted the urge to wipe the muck off the side of his face, even though it was now trickling down his neck and seeping under his black leather undershirt. "Go to hell," he ground out. "If you want it, come pry it out of my cold, dead hands."
Gojyo's shakujou was raised, and his eyes were darting around the clearing, noting with unease that he could barely make out wisping strands of silken thread hanging from most branches. He edged around to the other side of Sanzo, away from the trees, and earned a fierce glare for his trouble.
The spider's voice was rumbling again. "Hand over the scripture, or your minion dies."
Sanzo's eyes darted toward Gojyo, and then back to the spider. "Do as you like," he growled. The water sprite could damn well take care of himself.
"Not that one." The spider's fangs clicked in impatience. "The little one. The one that's always hungry."
Gojyo's eyes narrowed in fury. "Yeah? You've seen 'im, eh? I'll bet he's REAL hungry by now. I wouldn't go near 'im if I were you." He clutched his shakujou tighter and forced himself to wait for the spider to come back within range.
"No deal." Sanzo's fierce growl rang through the clearing. Gojyo could see that his knuckles were white as they clutched his pistol. Hoooh boy, priesty-boy was piiiissssed. Nobody messed with his monkey and lived. Except Gojyo, a small voice in the back of his head commented irrelevantly.
A hiss of acknowledgment was their only warning before the monstrosity was once again airborne. It sailed clear over their heads, strange red markings on its abdomen and a silvery trail of thread flashing by as Sanzo fired off two more shots. Neither one managed to connect with a target. Gojyo turned, tracking the spider's flight, and let his shakujou fly. The blade sliced cleanly through the air until it ran out of chain and landed with an ominous splash, its wicked curve planted firmly in the swamp. Frustrated and impatient, Gojyo yanked the blade back out and straightened again to meet the anticipated attack.
The spider was now perched above one of the many dangling threads hanging nearby. Like a fucking trapeze artist. And, Gojyo noted with shock, Sanzo was being dragged backward toward it, a sticky gray thread wrapped around his neck. The priest's face was red, his mouth was wide open in a strangled gasp, and both of his hands were clutched around his straining neck, straining to tear the thread loose.
"You will give it to me, human!" the spider hissed. "But first you will beg for mercy!" Apparently, the freak took the damage to its eyes personally.
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Goku twitched, violently. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. His head was throbbing in an uneven, staccato rhythm, and his nerves were on fire. Breakfast! He must be late. Sanzo wouldn't leave without him, would he? His whole body convulsed, straining against the confining bindings cutting into him and stinging as they clung to his unprotected arms and neck. No! He didn't want to be alone. Sanzo! Wait, Sanzo!
In a burst of unfettered panic, lightning crackled throughout Goku's small frame, bursting out in a flash that obliterated the restraints holding him back. Suddenly, Goku found himself falling, falling, wind rushing past his face. His eyes flew open. In the blurry darkness, he could make out a dark blob scuttling across the deeply shadowed space below him. Clumsily conjuring his nyoi-bou—why were his limbs so stiff?—he extended it and aimed it at the ground, vaguely registering that he needed to get out of here, and fast. Sanzo was going to leave without him! A loud squelching sound, followed by rapid, uncoordinated clacking, accompanied his pole-vault descent to the slimy muck below.
He landed, face-first, in an undignified heap—damn, he hoped this stiffness was only temporary, he was in a hurry—but he was up again in a flash and stumbling through the muck as fast as his tingling, uncooperative legs would carry him. Don't leave, Sanzo! Don't leave!
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Gojyo's blade swished out again, this time connecting. It sliced cleanly through the thread, but he'd had to jerk extra hard on the chain, and the effort had left him panting, clutching his shakujou and using it as a temporary crutch. Damn, that shit had been tough. He slogged forward to where the priest was still lying on his back, making desperate wheezing sounds and clawing at the unyielding strands of silk.
"Let's see you try that again," Gojyo growled as he stood between the priest and the crouching arachnid, but he knew he was too angry, and his right leg was wobbling underneath him. If only he were wearing both boots. That, at least, would have been something. He swiped a swath of muck off his face and tried for a defiant leer.
"Get out of the way, little brother," the spider hissed as it leapt into a closer tree, one standing just off to Gojyo's left.
Gojyo sloshed around so he was once again blocking the spider's access to the gasping priest. "Fuck off, you sonuvabitch! If you're afraid of me, just say so!" Just a little bit closer. Come on, just a bit closer, and I can nail your ass, you overgrown toad bait.
"Geheh." Sanzo's strangled struggles were becoming weaker. Gojyo could tell because there were fewer splashes now. Sweat ran down the back of his neck, and his hair hung in muddy clumps around his face. Come on, Mr. Indestructible. Just hang in there. He shifted his weight, listened to a couple more weak gurgles from the priest behind him, and decided to rush the tree. The eight-legged wonder looked like it was just gonna wait it out, and Gojyo was running out of time.
Coiled like a spring, he leapt at the tree, weapon raised. Two bounds forward, one foot already planted on the tree's trunk, he was just about to release his weapon, eyes fixed on his target, when it vanished and a dark shadow passed over his head. "SHIIIIT!" Gojyo yelled, face contorted with rage, and spun, launching himself off the trunk as he leapt back toward the exposed priest.
Everything suddenly slowed down and acquired a red tinge. His hair was taking forever to move past his eyes, but he could see the form in front of him well enough to make out the exposed abdomen. His arms swung on autopilot, and the wicked blade curved out in a deadly arc, burying itself deep in the spider's ungainly backside. A strangled hiss accompanied frenzied twitching of impossibly long, jointed limbs. Gotcha, Gojyo thought distantly as he yanked on the chain, throwing all his weight into it. He fell backward, heels digging in, but he didn't let go of the chain, so he knew the bastard was moving too.
A shot rang out, then another, from Sanzo's direction, but Gojyo didn't even pause as he leapt onto the spider's back and yanked his blade free once again, this time aiming for the closest front foreleg. No way the bastard was going to lay one claw on his Sanzo! The blade sliced through a joint in the leg with a loud, sickening snick. He was twisting around to aim for the other foreleg when the body under him reared and tossed him off the back. By the time Gojyo had regained his feet, the spider was nowhere to be seen, and the world had sped back up enough that he could hear his own ragged breathing.
Wild red eyes homed in on the haphazard pile of robes splayed in the mud. Legs sliding out from under him, Gojyo landed with a splash on his knees at the priest's side. The body lying next to him was unnaturally still.
With infinite care, Gojyo raised his curved blade and dragged it over the sticky thread still wound around the blond's neck. "Please please please be okay you royal fucking bastard what the hell would I do without you don't you dare leave me."
On his third attempt, the thread parted. With terrified, impatient, trembling hands, Gojyo tore the thread away and tossed it behind him into the swamp. He yanked the priest's torso out of the slime and pressed his head to Sanzo's heart, listening intently for that distinctive thump-thump that meant the bastard was still indestructible as ever. After a couple of confused seconds, in which Gojyo wasn't sure he could hear anything over his own panicked breathing, he collapsed forward in relief as he felt the chest under his head move.
"Get ... the hell ... off! Can't ... breathe ..." The gasped, hoarse pants were nearly inaudible, but Gojyo immediately raised his head and stared at the limp blond head that was lolling forward. A weak hand, still reflexively clutching a muddy pistol, swatted the redhead away as Sanzo choked and bent farther forward. That was when Gojyo realized that the front of Sanzo's robe was actually getting damper. Oh damn. He leaned closer to get a better look, still supporting Sanzo's back with one arm, and saw that one shoulder of the muddy robes was glistening with a dark liquid that was dripping down both their sides now.
Despairingly, Gojyo examined both his clothes and Sanzo's, only to confirm that neither of them had a square inch of clean cloth to his name. At least Sanzo's scripture was still intact. It suddenly struck him that it was odd, really, that the scripture never managed to get dirty or wrinkled despite all their traveling. Shrugging and chalking it up to the sutra's inherent holiness or some such bullshit, Gojyo thought it was a shame it hadn't also protected Blondie's shoulder. Now the bastard was going to be cranky, on top of everything else.
"Nnnn, move it!" Sanzo finally managed to free himself, one-handed because it hurt to move his other arm, from the cloying embrace of the world's biggest flirt by flattening the idiot's irritatingly springy red antennae with the butt of his pistol.
The priest flopped back toward the swamp when Gojyo let go to clutch his throbbing head, but he managed to heave himself to his knees by rolling onto his good side. Once he shoved himself to his feet, he had to pause because the world had taken to spinning. Sanzo glared.
Yup, the ungrateful bastard was cranky, and Gojyo was taking the lumps, as usual. Gojyo shoved himself to his feet and ran a hand through his wet hair, sliding it back out of his face. A dull red lump was forming on the heaving kappa's forehead. The flashing red eyes were closed, and Sanzo felt oddly bereft. After a couple more ragged breaths, Gojyo's eyes flew open, and he grinned smugly. "I love you too, Sanzo-chan."
"In your fucking dreams," Sanzo growled, and fished clumsily for his fan. Damn, he hated it when the bastard messed with him. Why the hell couldn't he leave him alone already? Sha Gojyo, ladies' man, would laugh his ass off if the uptight priest showed even a glimmering of interest. Worst of all, Sanzo always felt oddly competitive around the damn cockroach, driven by the need to prove he didn't need him. Fuck! He couldn't find the blasted fan one-handed, and he sure as hell wasn't letting go of his pistol.
"If you say so." Gojyo's grin evolved into a smirk before he turned, slogged back over toward the protruding rock, and started digging around in the muck next to it. The soaked army-issue trousers were clinging in entirely indecent ways to the curves that nature had so foolishly bestowed upon him.
Sanzo's eyes flicked away impatiently. Focus. He glanced down at his pistol. It was dripping with gelatinous spider ooze and muddy slime. He glanced back at the kappa, who was now on his knees in the muck, muttering to himself. Damn. Not a clean square inch to wipe his pistol off on. Inconsiderate bastard. Reluctantly, and with great distaste, Sanzo bent over and gingerly sloshed the gun in a shallow pool that looked relatively undisturbed by recent events. Not good, but it'd have to do. He needed to reload anyway.
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After the first shot had rung out, the guards on duty at the cave's mouth had sent word to Sergeant Nu. After a brief conference, word had been sent back to camp, and Sergeant Nu had set off with Private Shin to investigate, leaving the burly and dependable Private Rin in charge of the men stationed at the cave's entrance.
As they sloshed through the dusk, Nu kept his reservations to himself. He didn't think it was likely that the blasted youkai had stolen a rifle, but what if they had? No patrols should have been in this sector, other than his. Part of him whispered that this was the perfect trap, and, since the deadly poisonous bastards seemed to specialize in divide-and-conquer tactics, they could be playing right into their hands ... jaws ... whatever. But if the shots had been fired by a soldier who'd been isolated and probably was in need of assistance, he couldn't bear to abandon the man to his fate. So far, four shots had been fired, so they'd managed to get a fairly decent idea of the general direction.
Just when Sergeant Nu was getting ready to turn around, he heard another two shots. Well, that was a fairly odd firing pattern. Maybe it was too convenient, but it could also mean that the soldier was still alive and was signaling for assistance. Whatever it was, it was nearby. He dodged off to the left and picked up his pace, Private Shin splashing along by his side. They gripped their weapons tightly, and Sergeant Nu kept glancing from side to side, and, occasionally, above.
Just as they were winding around a particularly dense stand of trees, Nu thought he heard rustling. He jerked his rifle to his shoulder, and spun to track the motion. Shin sloshed a couple more steps before he also stopped and took up a defensive position with his back to a tree. After a few breathless minutes of waiting, Nu decided he'd been imagining it. He'd thought he'd caught a darker patch of shadow flitting through the trees, but it must have been a trick of the light. Everyone was on edge these days. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon and gestured to Shin to follow.
Five minutes later, they were stunned by what they saw before them. Two grown men appeared to be involved in a shoving match and completely oblivious to their surroundings. After a couple of minutes of open-mouthed shock, Nu identified the voices as belonging to the two travelers they'd detained earlier.
"Just let me fucking tie it up, you stubborn SOB!" A hand darted out to touch the other's shoulder. The offending hand was deflected by an elbow, and a gun was shoved in the first guy's face. "Oh, whatever! It's not even loaded."
The long-haired one—Gojyo, if Nu remembered correctly—ducked a vicious swing. "It's fine. Get the hell away from me." The growl sounded more irritable than threatening, somehow.
When the robed one tried to leave again, Gojyo danced after him, brandishing what appeared to be an extremely filthy army-issue boot. So much for Rei's spare boots. "If we don't put pressure on it, you'll lose more blood, you git! What're you gonna do if it comes back? Bleed on it!?" The two springy bangs bounced emphatically in the fitful moonlight.
Nu sighed, partly from relief and partly in confusion. That gun didn't look standard-issue. Where the hell had the robed fellow gotten it? Oh, well. It looked like the sort that was meant to be concealed. He'd have to speak to Li about her soldiers' sloppy work. He cleared his throat loudly and rather pointedly.
Both figures swung, frowning, toward him, and a long pole with a vicious curved blade appeared in Gojyo's hands. Whoa. Nu could have sworn that hadn't been there before. After a tense, awkward pause, the blade lowered and vanished. "Oh, hey, Noodle-boy. How's it going?"