A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait, and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. Thank you so much for your support. Your thoughts and comments are deeply appreciated.

"Maaaan, I knew I shoulda kept up with the weight lifting."

"If you'd just do more instead of slouching around all the time, you wouldn't need to drag around a weight set."

"But it was my favorite weight set, and you lost it in a card game!"

"Shut up. It was pink, and I wouldn't have been playing at all if you'd been able to restrain yourself. Couldn't you tell her brother was standing right behind you?"

"Noooo ... and that's so not the point!" Splashing and faint squeaking sounds were followed abruptly by a loud thump and more splashing. "AH! Dammit, that hurts! Shit!!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing over there!?"

Hakkai was amused by what sounded like the rattling of a shower curtain being yanked aside. Really, at least he knew he was heading toward the right tent. He could already hear the two of them bickering, and he wasn't even close to the tent's flaps yet.

"Oh, like I did it on purpose, you bastard! Unlike you. You wanted to get rid of those weights. You're just jealous of my perfect bod—WHOA! Ow ow ow ow OW! Watch the leg, will ya!? It's fucking broken, yanno!"

Hakkai panted, sweat beading on his forehead, as he loped the last few feet to the tent's entrance. Really, he couldn't leave those two alone for a minute. He had no idea how they'd managed to avoid killing each other while he'd been out of commission.

"Quit whining and cover yourself up already, dammit!" A loud thwap punctuated the demand, and Hakkai stumbled through the tent flaps moments later, one hand clutching a wad of clothes and the other clinging to the tent flap for support. He hated to admit it, but his body still hadn't recovered properly, which left him feeling decidedly winded, dizzy, and drained of energy.

A dripping Gojyo was perched awkwardly on a low stool, sulking, his arms crossed and a crumpled towel bunched up in his lap as he leaned heavily against the side of the tub for support. Vivid red strands of hair clung to his flushed face, and his neck was twisted around to scowl at Sanzo's stiff back. Sanzo, for his part, was facing the tent wall, his back to Gojyo and his arms crossed defensively. He looked a bit flushed too, and, despite the fact that his towel was tucked firmly around his waist, water dripped down his chest and arms. Neither of them seemed to have registered Hakkai's presence. And they didn't seem to be in imminent danger of ... killing each other. At least, not yet.

"Well, what about you, then!? Put some fucking clothes on yourself, if you're so bloody sensitive!" Gojyo had yanked a corner of the towel out of his lap and started rubbing himself down vigorously, although he seemed to be carefully avoiding undue exposure. Hakkai frowned, perplexed. Gojyo wasn't exactly what he'd call shy.

Sanzo spun around and scowled. "I'm not the one who couldn't even get out of the bathtub by himself." Gojyo rolled his eyes and casually flipped Sanzo the bird, his other hand still busy toweling himself off.

"And it's not like I have a robe to change into, thanks to you," Sanzo continued, flushing slightly, his left hand clutching the knot in his towel.

That was Hakkai's cue to step in, really, especially since his legs were traitorously giving out on him. He coughed pointedly. "Actually, we thought you might have forgotten these." Dangling his fistful of spare clothes helpfully, Hakkai managed to stay upright for another few seconds before collapsing rather heavily in the grass just inside the tent's entrance. Hakuryu kyuued in concern and nuzzled Hakkai's chin encouragingly.

Sanzo froze for second before snorting and striding over to snatch the offered clothes. "You were taking so long, we thought you might have drowned," Hakkai continued, smiling sunnily up at Sanzo, who ignored him and tossed the kappa's spare clothes over his shoulder. They landed at Gojyo's feet, just out of reach.

"Thanks a lot, bastard," Gojyo grunted as he hopped awkwardly forward to drag the clothes over to his stool. Sanzo had already made his way to the other side of the shower curtain and yanked it back into place. "You gonna be okay there, man?" he asked Hakkai, glancing up as he slid his legs into a comfortable pair of loose jeans.

Hakkai nodded and rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "I just get tired really easily. It's a bit maddening when I can't quite manage to make my body cooperate, but I'm already feeling much better than I was before."

Gojyo stared at him, hard, for a couple of seconds. "Yeah, you're gonna be fine." He smiled crookedly as he dragged a tank top over his head. His stomach growled. Loudly. "Aaaah," he grunted, stretching. "Time to recharge, yeah? We can't let the monkey clean them out all by himself."

"Oi!" he called over his shoulder as he slid his crutches into place. "You coming or what?" Turning back to Hakkai, who had managed to regain his feet, he grinned. "Man, what is it with priests and layers?"

Hakkai covered his mouth with one hand, but his eyes gave him away. "It's a uniform," a gravely baritone ground out. Gojyo twisted around to see Sanzo settling the holy scripture across his shoulders. Privately, Gojyo thought the robe looked more like a dress, and he couldn't imagine that leather armor or jeans were part of the official "uniform" of a sanzo priest, but he didn't say a word because, somehow, the unlikely ensemble was Sanzo's uniform, and that was enough.

A warm hand reached up and tucked a wayward strand of red hair back into place. "Sloppy," was all Sanzo said before he strode past them and out of the tent.

Feeling dizzier than he had a moment before, Gojyo gave himself a couple of deep breaths before he forced a scowl to replace his inexplicably silly grin. Hakkai was smiling at him oddly, so Gojyo hurriedly swung forward on his crutches and began complaining loudly and bitterly about worldly priests who just let the sick and injured STARVE.

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Sanzo reached for a meat bun, only to have it snatched out from under his hand. He wouldn't have minded so much, except it was the THIRD time this had happened, and he was hungry, dammit! This was why he hated communal meals, especially when he had to compete with Goku, the bottomless stomach, and Gojyo, who seemed to be under the mistaken impression that eating was a competitive sport. Growling threateningly, Sanzo caught one of the kappa's roving fingers between his chopsticks. Poaching was a nasty habit, after all, and he was in no mood to indulgently ignore it just now. Lifting the offending hand away from the plate of pickled plums sitting in front of him, he reached with his other hand for the bowl of ramen. Goku already had one hand on the rim of the bowl, but it retreated hastily when Sanzo glared at him.

"Uh, Sanzo-chan, can I have my finger back now? It's just that I'm STARVING here, and if you're quite through—"

"Where's the mayonnaise?" Sanzo demanded, tucking the bowl of ramen comfortably within his sphere of influence. When the redhead had the audacity to try to yank his finger free, Sanzo squeezed it once, hard, then let it drop.

"Che!" Gojyo scowled before sucking accusingly on the injured digit. It was such a pathetic display of childish sulkiness that Sanzo couldn't help staring in disapproval. His chopsticks suddenly seemed irrationally heavy, and his face felt unusually warm. Dammit! Why the hell were things getting worse!? He'd thought that if he actually indulged himself, the whole sordid mess would lose its appeal, or, at the very least, be held off until he could come up with a better plan. Instead, he'd had to turn tail and run, and now he was having more trouble focusing than ever. It was maddening, and it was all that damned kappa's fault. Sanzo shot a venomous glare Gojyo's way just to let him know that he was by no means winning.

Hakkai laughed quietly, his face relaxing and his eyes softening. "It's better not to provoke him, Gojyo-san. Here, have some of these pickled Brussels sprouts. They're good for you." When Hakkai lifted one of the green monstrosities with his chopsticks and waved it under Gojyo's nose, Sanzo stiffened and his eyes narrowed. The kappa's face contorted and he shook his head violently. Yanking his finger free, he pushed the proffered vegetable away while holding his other hand in front of his mouth. "No, thanks. I'm plenty healthy as it is."

"Is that so?" Hakkai asked, his face serious but his eyes twinkling. "Well, then I guess I'll just have to share them with Hakuryu instead." The white dragon kyuued triumphantly and snatched the proffered vegetable with relish. Gojyo grimaced.

When the sandy-haired soldier, Newbie or whatever, tapped him on the shoulder, Sanzo almost jumped. He'd been so focused on the stupid water sprite that he'd lost track of his surroundings. Glaring, he twisted his head around to see what the soldier wanted. Newbie set a jar of mayonnaise down next to the bowl of ramen, a knowing look on his face and the beginnings of a smirk on his face. Sanzo ground his teeth and yanked the cap off the jar with a vicious twist of his wrist. Snatching one of the black plastic spoons lying in a heap in the middle of the table, he dished several large helpings into the bowl of ramen.

"Awww, man, that's just not fair!" Gojyo whined, spotting Sanzo's clever maneuver. Giving up on the ramen as a lost cause, Gojyo reached clear across the table to snatch the last meat bun. He had to knock Goku's hand out of the way, but he did manage to take a bite out of it before Goku bit him. "Oi! Chimp-boy!" Gojyo complained around a mouthful of food, "I am NOT on the menu. First come, first served!"

Tucking the mayonnaise-laden ramen into his mouth quickly, before the baka-tachi decided to try the concoction anyway, Sanzo heard the mess tent's flaps rustle and footsteps draw near. The murmur of voices from the other tables stopped abruptly as all the soldiers scooted their chairs back and rose to their feet to salute. Sanzo reached for the tea pot and poured himself a generous serving. Hakuryu was nudging the soy sauce closer to Hakkai, and Gojyo and Goku were currently involved in a wrestling match.

"As you were." The soldiers sat back down and resumed their interrupted conversations, and Tenjo pulled up a chair next to Newbie. "I've just come from the village, and it appears we have quite the venerable guests here with us today." Sanzo could feel the man looking in their direction. His eyes narrowed as he poked at his ramen. What the hell was the man up to?

"I was informed that a certain Buddhist priest, a priest who fits the description of the legendary Priest Genjyo Sanzo, rescued two village boys last night," Tenjo continued. "It seems this Genjyo Sanzo is well known in Shangri-La as a holy man who defends the people against the evil youkai hordes." Tenjo snorted a bit, and Sanzo ground his teeth. "Last night, the village leader came to us willing to offer anything in exchange for his sons' safety, so it would've been great if we could've brought them back ourselves. After all, we're still short on our iron-ore quota." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But, instead, they snuck past all our patrols on their way in and on their way out, and got rescued by a famous priest instead. Now the village can't talk about anything else. They think this great sanzo priest is going to save them. After he reads them a few inspirational scriptures, that is."

Tenjo glanced pointedly at Sanzo, who lifted his head to glare back at the man. "Lucky you. You're a hero, my friend." Sanzo massaged a throbbing temple and wished fervently that he wasn't surrounded by idiots.

"Wait, Yun and Wai made it back okay?" Gojyo asked, releasing Goku and thereby forfeiting the second half of the contested meat bun. "What about their friend, what's-his-name?"

"Apparently their friend made it back with them, but he's still unconscious. I left him in Lieutenant Li's very competent hands, so I'm sure he'll be fine." Tenjo was smiling. Sanzo transferred his glare to Gojyo. He opened his mouth to tell the both of them, in no uncertain terms, that they were NOT staying and that he was, by no means, going to be reading scriptures to anyone who wasn't already DEAD, dammit!

"Well, that's a relief. I mean, when we got ambushed by that weird mist and started getting shot at, I figured they were goners for sure." Gojyo seemed to be ignoring Sanzo, which was completely unacceptable. The redhead frowned a bit and slid his hair away from his face. Sanzo couldn't help staring and hated himself for it. "Wait, the gunshots. ... Were you guys shooting at us? 'Cause sneaking up on a guy like that is totally low. Besides, it's not like we did anything that awful. I mean, we drank some of your beer and stuff, but really—"

"Shut up! Just shut up," Sanzo growled, massaging both temples, the ramen now completely forgotten. "I'm getting a headache, and your stupidity is making it worse." Gojyo flipped him the bird.

Nu leaned forward at that point. "The men we lost weren't anywhere near the abandoned section of the mines last night, so we weren't the ones who attacked you. In fact, my team was the only one actually inside the caves, and we never really left the main cavern." He turned away from Gojyo at that point and addressed his superior. "Captain Tenjo, we found Lieutenant Po and most of his men. They'd been ambushed on the tracks. We didn't find any survivors, but two of Po's men are still missing."

Tenjo frowned and rubbed a hand across his mouth. "I see. I assume you conducted a thorough search before you left the area."

Nu nodded emphatically. "Yes, sir. We executed search pattern alpha, and, after three hours of intensive searching, I called it off to avoid any further casualties. With respect, sir, my men are exhausted. We transported the soldiers' remains and the mined iron ore back to camp, and I sent one of the medics over to have a look at the bodies we were able to recover."

Tenjo nodded several times absentmindedly. "Good work, Nu. Make sure you and your men get rested up. We're going to need you to take third shift tonight." Nu sighed and nodded, resigned.

"Wait, so, if you guys didn't attack us, then who did? Man, freaking everybody has guns around here." Gojyo was leaning forward, his chin propped in his hand and his elbow resting in the middle of a puddle of spilled tea. The tea appeared to have been a casualty of the meat-bun war. What a mess.

Sanzo grimaced, then felt the corners of his mouth turn up a bit. Why the hell did he find the kappa's obliviousness endearing? It wasn't endearing. It was pathetic. Food fights were for children and wild animals. God, he was being infected with the stupid. He sank down so his chin rested on one of his hands, then twisted his hand around so his traitorous mouth was no longer visible.

"They were probably youkai," he grunted, forcing himself to rejoin the conversation. He managed to turn his head away from Gojyo, but only long enough to discover that Goku had passed out, his head pillowed on an outstretched arm as he snored gently.

Sanzo dragged a packet of Marlboro reds out of his pocket and lit one. As he drew in the first calming wave of nicotine, he reflected that it was just as well for all involved that he'd kept some spares in the jeep. "That fog had a definite edge to it," Sanzo continued, turning to Hakkai, whose face had hardened in concerned concentration. "They were probably even the same youkai who ambushed the soldiers, which would explain how they got the rifles."

"It takes skill and power to create a fog, especially a heavy one, which means your assailant was fairly powerful. I assume you didn't catch sight of the person responsible." Hakkai's hands were steepled, and a frown had settled in. Hakuryu kyuued in concern and licked his face.

"That's right! The cowardly assholes just dropped this really thick fog on us and then started taking potshots without so much as a 'by your leave,'" Gojyo ranted, outraged. Damn. The bastard was even cute when he was worked up. Sanzo frowned and forced himself to focus on Hakkai.

"Wait," Tenjo barked, grabbing Nu's arm. "What does he mean the youkai had rifles?"

"Uhhh," Nu shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, sir. I'm just ... having trouble focusing." He took a deep breath and continued, head bowed, "When we found the bodies, they'd been stripped of all weaponry. Several of them appeared to have been slashed, a few dismembered, and some had even been shot."

"Shot," Tenjo repeated, his fist clenching. He released Nu's arm. "Anything else?"

"I ... I don't think so, sir."

"I see. You're dismissed, Sergeant Nu."

"Yes, sir." Nu rose to leave and turned to go.

Tenjo grabbed Nu's sleeve, holding him in place. "Get some sleep, Nu. That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

"And, if you remember anything else, do let me know, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." Tenjo released him, and Nu left, only stumbling slightly as he made his way through the mess-tent flaps.

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Kougaiji was lying on his back on the cold stone floor. Theoretically, he was meditating, but since he couldn't actually manage to find his center, or even concentrate on anything other than picturing the charred remains of that depraved human scientist, he supposed he was really just restless and frustrated and trying not to wake up his little sister. At least she had been fed properly for the last few days. When he saw her relaxed face and her even breathing, he could almost convince himself that it had been worth it, humiliating himself before that worm, Ni, but then red-hot anger boiled to the surface again and he ended up enduring another sleepless night.

When the doors to his prison swished open behind him, he managed to restrain himself and remain motionless where he was. If it was Ni coming to gloat again, Kougaiji certainly wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of responding. The door hissed as it closed once again. He closed his eyes and imagined leaping to his feet, dashing to the door, and tearing the smirking bastard limb from limb.

What he certainly had not been expecting was to hear Dokugaku's concerned voice calling his name. Kougaiji's eyes flew open, and he whipped around so he landed crouched, balanced on the balls of his feet, his arms hanging loosely, ready for anything. This couldn't be real. The bastard Ni was just messing with his head again.

"K-Kou? It's me. Your unworthy servant, Dokugakuji." Kougaiji froze and hesitated, his eyes narrowing. It certainly looked like Dokugaku. The figure before him was on its knees, head bowed low, but the eyes that were raised to meet his were dark with guilt and concern. Kougaiji relaxed marginally, but he frowned as he straightened, confused. If this really was Dokugakuji, how the hell had he gotten in here, and what did that mean?

Dokugakuji rose slightly and held out a thick pair of handcuffs in both his hands. "I ... I'm terribly sorry, my lord."

Kougaiji stared at them, feeling even more bewildered, then met Dokugakuji's eyes full on, his gaze hard, demanding. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Your mother ... Lady Rasetsunyo ... We can set her free at last, my lord." Dokugakuji's eyes strayed to the column at the far end of the room.

Kougaiji's eyes narrowed. "What? With these?" He gestured distrustfully toward the handcuffs still clutched in Dokugaku's hands.

"Exactly," a voice called over the intercom. It was a woman's voice, not Ni's. Kougaiji transferred his glare to the nearest camera. "You can have your mother and your freedom. I'll even set your minions free." He knew that voice. That was Ni's flunky.

"What's the catch?" Kougaiji demanded suspiciously. His thought were whirling. Was it really possible? Could he finally set his mother free? And what would he have to barter in exchange for this, his heart's desire?

"My lord, we just need to retrieve Priest Sanzo's scripture." Yaone! Kougaiji's heart leapt into his throat. He hadn't heard from either of them since his imprisonment began weeks ago, and he'd feared the worst.

His instincts were still radiating caution, though. After all, wasn't this the same as the original deal he'd made with Koushu? And why weren't Koushu and Ni involved? "Then why the handcuffs?"

"Insurance." Ni's flunky again. Kougaiji gritted his teeth. "Lady Lirin stays here until you return with the Maten sutra. After that, you can take her and never come back, for all I care."

"Absolutely not," Kougaiji growled, power crackling through his veins. He could feel his hair standing on end as his anger surged. How could Dokugaku and Yaone even contemplate this? He would not abandon his own sister. He couldn't.

"My lord!" Dokugakuji exclaimed, leaping to his feet and reaching out, concern etched into every feature. The palpable fury emanating from Kougaiji's glare stopped him short, and his hand fell.

"Oh, come on. This is the best deal you're going to get. I could always just leave your mother there and send your minions out right now. I don't have to set her free, you know." Ni's flunky did have a point. But how could he leave his sister?

"Do it, Onii-chan. Lirin can take care of herself, nyah." Lirin was on her feet, hands planted on her hips as she faced him down fearlessly. Dammit, when had she woken up? "Your mother needs you," she said simply, then walked past him. He was too stunned to move. She grabbed the handcuffs and slipped them over her own hands, snapping them awkwardly into place. "Okay, hurry up and set Onii-chan's mom free now." She held her hands up high so that they were in plain view of the security cameras.

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Sanzo's restless feet carried him down yet another temple corridor. It didn't matter which way he turned; every one was filled with an impenetrable wall of fog that seemed to be clouding his mind as well. The urgency of his search spurred him on, and he started walking faster, turning corners randomly. He'd lost something, something important, and if he didn't find it soon, he'd lose it forever. Clutching his pistol in his left hand and feeling his way along the wall with his right, he tried once again to remember what it was that he'd lost.

It wasn't his sensei's scripture. That was settled firmly across his shoulders. He reached up again to touch it, reassuring himself that it was still present. Whipping around another corner, he wracked his brain to come up with something, anything else that was important to him. Goku. No, he'd left Goku in his room, hadn't he? The chimp had been curled up in a muddy tangle of limbs with the mutt he'd found. He was sure of it. So, what was it, then? What was the hell was he missing?

The ground suddenly became uneven, and Sanzo wondered whether he'd somehow managed to leave the temple grounds. It was impossible to tell when the fog was this thick, and his head was throbbing so hard that he could barely think at all. Something was missing. Something important. His breath started coming in jagged gasps, and he felt his shoulder brush against jagged stone. This only increased his panic, compelling him to increase his pace to an uneven run as his mind dimly registered that he was most definitely no longer in the temple. The cave walls tore at him and forced him to duck, even crawl, but every obstacle only increased his desperation as he scrambled along at an ever-increasing pace.

Finally, chest heaving, gasping, he tripped over a ledge and landed face-first in a heap on the cave floor. Shoving himself to his feet and gripping his pistol tightly as he swept it right and left, he felt the brush of a clinging strand against his hand. Backing up slowly and deliberately, Sanzo strained his eyes to see something, anything in this dense fog, but it remained maddeningly impenetrable. Straining his senses, he thought he felt a feather-light touch on his shoulders accompanied by a soft rustling sound alarmingly close to his ears. He stiffened, then realized the familiar weight of his scripture was gone. Gone! Hissing laughter was followed by prodding claws shoving him from behind. Whirling around, he fired wildly spreading his shots out in the hopes that one of them would find a mark. His shots echoed oddly, rumbling and reverberating, then a bright flash of light exploded in front of him, banishing the fog so that he could see, in crystal-clear clarity, the eight-legged monstrosity crouching on the wall above him and the crumpled, lifeless heap at his feet, its spreading pool of crimson rushing out to meet familiar twisted, blood-red strands of hair.

Sanzo's eyes flew open wide as he screamed past the impossibly tight lump in his throat and shoved himself bolt upright, fighting off the paralysis that had held him in place. Holy shit! A sharp crackle was followed by a rolling rumble. His breath came in uneven gasps, and his whole body shuddered as the rain poured relentlessly all around him, beating on the roof and sides of the tent. A second crack of thunder rolled through and was followed by another flash of lightning. Dammit!

Sanzo scrubbed his face with his hands, his body still shaking. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he hugged his arms around himself and glared at the grass beneath his feet. After he'd had a few minutes to calm down, when his heart had stopped racing quite so hard and fast, he decided that what he really needed was a cup of hot tea and a smoke because it was abundantly clear that sleeping was no longer an option.

As he shrugged his robe on over his shoulders and tied his sash firmly in place, he counted himself lucky that nobody had been around to hear him make a fool of himself screaming the kappa's name. Insisting on separate tents hadn't made him popular, but dammit it had been worth it. Slipping on his sandals with a grimace—his feet were going to get drenched in this downpour—he patted his jeans pockets to be sure that his gun, cigarettes, and scripture were all present and accounted for.

Scowling and tucking his arms into the sleeves of his robe, he ducked through his tent flaps and strode purposefully out into the night. Somehow, even though he'd meant to head straight for the mess tent and the promise of hot tea, his legs acquired a mind of their own, and, before he even quite realized what was happening, he found himself ducking through an entirely different set of tent flaps.

He knew very well who was sleeping in this tent, and he had absolutely no business being here. None. So, he was just going to turn right back around and ... The sheets were rustling, and he thought he could hear soft grunts over the incessant pounding of the rain outside. For some reason, his treacherous feet had become rooted to the spot, locking him in place. What the hell did he think he was doing? It wasn't like he needed to see the kappa's face to know he'd been a victim of his own overactive imagination. This was stupid, so very stupid. And dangerous. He should go. Now. Right ... now.