Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ The Becoming ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

:: The Becoming ::

Gensomaden Saiyuki

Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Sanzo/Goku, hinted Gojyo/Hakkai

Warnings: language, eventual shounen ai/yaoi, some violence

Notes: Started because of a dream I had, and somehow turned into a yaoi fic by the end. O.o; Darn. ^^; I hope it doesn't ruin the fic *too* badly...

There are actually a lot of categories I wanted to put this under, but I eventually just went with the two strongest. x.x; Damn multi-category fics of mine... Please keep in mind this fic isn't intended to focus on the demon, but the events around it. (Which is basically my excuse for not going into great detail on it. ^^;;)

I'll be hosting the NC-17 version on AFF and on MediaMiner. The PG-13 version will be on fanfiction.net.

Constructive criticism and feedback appreciated.

** indicate italics



Chapter One

--

At the time their first priority had been to stop, restock on supplies, and eat. The first two had been easily accomplished, but the last was always harder simply because of the ruckus that always took place amidst eating. Several gunshots, thwacks, shouts, and curses resounded during each mealtime. It wasn't exactly peaceful, though today was relatively peaceful in comparison to other evenings-- so far no one had been shot at and Goku had only been whacked with the infamous paper fan once.

Finding lodgings for the night was usually their second priority. However, this village hadn't exactly had the best reputation as of late, and Sanzo in particular was reluctant to stay. After all, the villagers were having troubles with a local demon, one that had no ties with Kougaiji whatsoever. Why bother staying and getting involved?

His reasoning, though selfish and a bit twisted, was sensible. They would have left right away-- had it not been for the sudden downpour.

The four stood in the rain for a few moments, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Gojyo was the first to break the silence.

"Shit! It just put out my cigarette!"

The curse seemed to break the dam, because then Goku started to complain about the wet and Hakkai was calmly reasoning that they didn't have much choice but to stay the night. Sanzo was reluctant, but he was even more reluctant to travel in the rain-- in fact, he loathed the idea.

That was how they ended up there, staying in a village they didn't want to be in, ensconced in separate rooms, attempting to fall asleep but having difficulties for various reasons.

While the sound of rain against the window was soothing in its rhythmic manner, it was also disquieting. Hakkai had trouble lying down and relaxing-- in fact, he had trouble just relaxing. He kept himself occupied by petting Hakuryuu, and the dragon seemed to appreciate the attention. Absently, the man ran his fingers down the creature's prickly spine, his gaze fixed outside. The glass seemed to be showing him rivers, rivers that slowly sank into a deep crimson colour until all he saw was blood. He stared hazily, his eyes growing unfocused. Almost dreamily he reached out to touch the glass, wondering if the blood would feel as thick and smell as coppery as it should.

The contact of cold glass on his skin jolted him back to reality. With a sigh and a rhetorical, "What am I doing?" he turned away. Green eyes refocused. He was no longer dreamy, but now tired and weary. Some things simply refused to go away. It was one of those times he wished he could wipe the memories clean from the slate, but deep down he already knew that would only complicate things for him.

Then again, who's to say any of them had ever led a simple life?

Across the hall, one room was filled with the scent of burning tobacco. In this room, another person was gazing out the window, only his glare was cold, hard, and violet. There was nothing hazy in the lines of his face, nothing to indicate that there was a dreamy quality about him. Even at his most relaxed he would unintentionally give off the feeling that he was not one to be crossed. Not everyone could interpret these vibes, of course; some were too stupid or blind.

There were some things he just didn't want to deal with. The rain was the first thing; right now, the second being the village's problem. It was relatively small as far as most villages went, the type of place where word got around fast. (Thankfully, it was also one of the few that didn't realize he was the legendary priest Sanzo.) He didn't want to be caught up with a demon that had nothing to do with them or the random assassins that still liked to pop up from time to time. From the stories he had heard, this demon had no interest outside of thrill killing.

All the more the reason Sanzo wanted to get out as fast as possible. If someone did find out who or what they were before then, he would inevitably be coerced into doing the village's dirty work. Really, it was none of his concern. He just wanted to move on as quickly as possible.

In the room next door, another man seemed to share the same thoughts-- and the same smoking habits. Gojyo was stretched out on the bed, putting out his last cigarette for the night. Then again, that had been his resolution for the cigarettes before that, and the one before that. Damn the chain smoker in him.

Oh well. He lit another one, taking advantage of the time and space to just think. Without the annoying monkey around he could do this without being taunted and distracted.

According to what snippets of conversation he had overheard, people had been murdered in their sleep nightly in the past two weeks. In such a small town it was bound to be noticed by everyone; if it kept up the way it did (two kills a night, at most) then the populace of this place was going rapidly die out. That was a problem-- to the village. Gojyo admittedly did feel bad for them, but what could they do? The demon had nothing to do with them, and anyway it was such a tiny little place that no one else in the world would notice if the entire town died.

That was what he kept telling himself, and that was what he was determined to believe. Any further attachments to the situation wouldn't be a good idea, and despite all appearances, Gojyo wasn't that stupid.

Two doors down, one boy was characteristically fidgeting as he lay in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He had shed his day clothes earlier, now lying in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, staring at the ceiling as his foot bounced restlessly upon his knee. His ever-curious nature demanded that he think when a problem was presented to him, and against his will he was doing just that. For example, why was it women and children were always killed first? Actually, he had wondered this before, and upon askance Hakkai had explained that women and children were, supposedly, the frailer creatures of the human race. Goku hadn't understood. To him, strength was strength and weakness was weakness. Who was to say a certain part of mankind was weaker just because of how old or what gender they were?

That was when Sanzo had called his way of thinking simple-minded, whacked him on the head, and changed the subject. It had driven the questions from Goku's head at the time, but now he was remembering them, wondering about the strangeness of people even more. The murderer in this town seemed particularly fond of killing young women, occasionally teenage boys.

Goku felt his heart twist. His mind told him that Sanzo would disapprove of this thinking, but he couldn't help but wish they could somehow help these people. In the long run, he knew it wouldn't benefit them or their journey-- it may even hurt it. Still, he wanted to do *something.* He eventually shed this train of thought, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

The town was cloaked in trembling darkness. In their beds, children would quiver with fear, helplessly wondering and wishing that the demon wouldn't come after them. Mothers prayed for their families. Fathers drank until they passed out, many unable to find any other way to handle the situation. Those sober sat up for much of the night, armed and prepared to defend their families if need be. Young women curled beneath their blankets, some crying in fear. Young men sat with their best weapon at their side -- a pole, a heavy piece of furniture, anything -- ready to fight in a moment's notice. It was a tense night, and ever so slowly did it fall reluctantly into sleep.

Sanzo never did figure out what had awakened him, but later when he had the chance to sit back and reflect, he would be grateful for whatever it was. He had been asleep, his gun hidden beneath the thick covers and within arm's reach should he need it. The covers concealed his weapon, provided simply because winter drew near and the nights could become unbearably chilly. Here they served him well.

Whatever had awoken him made him tense. He quickly told himself to relax; he wouldn't be able to move quickly if his muscles were locked up. The coldness of the Smith & Wesson radiated; he wasn't touching the metal, but he could feel it millimeters within his reach. There was no sound in the room. The faint creak he heard could have just been the building settling, but those sounds tended to come from the walls, not from the middle of the room.

There was the softest *swish,* indicating that the enemy was ready to strike. Sanzo waited a moment, ears straining for even the softest breath.

The moment he heard the almost inaudible sound of someone sucking in air, he moved.

For a human, his reflexes were commendable. Sanzo's hand shot out for the gun. At the same time he launched upward; common sense told him that he wouldn't be able to shoot the intruder before he brought the gun to the bastard's head, and that he wouldn't be able to shoot at all if his head was dissevered from his shoulders. Long nails tore the mattress where his torso had just been. He heard a dark, rough curse. All that could be made out in the darkness was a silhouette darting for the shadows. He cocked the gun, firing off a single round, but the only sound he heard in return was the bullet hitting wood and plaster. He'd missed.

He knew the gunshot would have roused his companions. Narrowing his eyes, Sanzo tried to adjust to the dark, straining to make out more than just shadows.

He almost missed the flicker in front of him. Ducking to the right proved to be the best way to go; had he gone left, the claws surely would have pierced his gut rather than simply graze his side. A snarl fell from his lips, one not unlike a demon's. Sanzo fired two more rounds. Dimly he heard shouting, but it was muffled and outside. There was a crash; the floor seemed to tremble beneath him.

"*Sanzo!*"

Both occupants of the room froze. Sanzo had his gun pointed toward the demon, aimed at the general vicinity between a pair of opaque eyes. His side burned furiously, but he couldn't afford to pay it any mind.

Something slammed into the door. The demon bolted, crashing through the tightly shut window. He probably rolled, but Sanzo didn't see it. He was transfixed in his spot, his breathing heavier than it should have been. Cold chills washed over him, rolling to the floor as the adrenaline high wore off. Once he had full control of his limbs, Sanzo strode to the door, opening it just as someone came hurtling forward. There was a brief glimpse of a surprised expression, then another crash as something solid and heavy hit the floor.

"*Ow!* Geez!"

"Are you all right?"

"God damn it, what was all the noise for? Can't you get a silencer for that thing?"

"Those cost money and are hard to find besides. Shut your damn mouth."

It took a few minutes for the initial excitement to calm down. Once Goku was certain his keeper was all right, Hakkai had tended Sanzo's minor wound, and Gojyo had lit another cigarette, silence fell over the group. All four understood what had happened even without having to talk about it. Judging from the broken window, the severe lack of blood or other gruesome body fluids, and the loud noises, Sanzo had been attacked by the demon and hadn't been able to kill him.

Once Sanzo had gotten a hold of his own cigarettes, Gojyo asked the obvious question. "Well, now what?"

Sanzo waited until he had inhaled some nicotine, allowing the drug to further calm his nerves. "Obviously," he said, his voice low and carrying a deadly edge. "We'll have to stick around a bit longer until we can kill the bastard."

"Gee, you're so noble once your life is threatened."

Sanzo narrowed one eye in a glare. "One shouldn't expect to attack me and escape with their life. I'm taking him out, with or without you."

"Well, of course we're going to help," Hakkai said, eyebrows raised slightly as though surprised. Most likely it was feigned... or he just enjoyed putting on random expressions. "It would be horribly difficult to continue the Sanbutsushin's journey without their servant boy to guide us along the way."

Goku shot him a puzzled look, obviously missing the light teasing. "But we're just going west."

Despite the sudden tension in his arm, Sanzo decided to ignore both comments. He scowled at the window; the floor was getting all wet and the rain hadn't let up one bit. This was, altogether, not a pleasant night.

"I'm going to report the damages to the manager," he said flatly, with the tone of someone acting very reluctantly. "Everything else can wait till morning-- and you are coming with me," he snapped, delivering a sharp whack to Goku's head before the boy could leave with the other two.

Goku rubbed the sore spot on his head. "Why me?" he whined.

"Never mind that. Let's go."

Sighing heavily, Goku resigned himself to the order and hurried after the priest. In a way, he was actually relieved Sanzo had told him to come with. It was silly, but even now his heartbeat hadn't completely slowed down. The gunshots had terrified him into waking, and even before he was stumbling out of bed, blindly groping for the door, he knew that Sanzo was in trouble. It was a feeling he had often but never got used to; a prickling sensation that made his entire body tingle at once, a faint whisper in the back of his head, quiet alarms that sounded as loud as earth-shattering screams.

And now... now he was going to stick close to Sanzo as long as the man would allow. No one was allowed to hurt his sun, and despite all he said, Goku was more than willing to jump in if the monk's life was in jeopardy.

Sanzo stopped in the middle of the staircase, causing the boy to nearly collide with him. A piercing violet glare was sent his way. "Stop thinking so loudly. Idiot."

"Sorry."

The next hour was filled with arguing, accusations, and a whole string of unpleasant words on the innkeeper's part. Goku kept unusually silent throughout the whole escapade, half asleep and half pondering as he watched Sanzo keep an amazing hold on his patience. Strange; a complete stranger had a harder time annoying him than anyone close to him... but perhaps that was because the latter simply knew which buttons to push.

Goku closed his eyes. He was tired, but he couldn't afford to drift off now. Somewhere the demon lurked, somewhere close. Goku could smell him, but couldn't place the scent. He could hear him, but couldn't pinpoint the sound. Sometimes he was sure he could see him through the walls, but of course the walls were solid and impenetrable by gaze alone.

And somehow he simply knew that this demon wasn't going to be a pushover like the rest.