The night passed without event.

He rose early, woken by the sunlight streaking through the window slats. All was calm, which was welcomed news to one who had spent too many sleepless nights in the wild. In a large city, he could let his guard down by just that tiny fraction.

He glanced over to the table, where the unfinished bottle of whisky still stood. With but a moment of indecision, he shrugged and poured himself a glass. He had breakfasted on far worse in his life.

Today, he would gather news, news about youkai movements in the region. Perhaps this large, fortified city would be safe enough to stay in for a few days... possibly a week or two. He did not dare to hope that it would be more than that. The last city had fallen within 3 days of his arrival.

Out of habit, he checked the bandanna that he always wore, the one that concealed the damning red dot on his forehead. One could not afford to be careless, not even in a supposedly secure room with the windows closed and the door locked.

He studied the bottle, half tempted to pour another glass, then decided against it. He could not afford the luxury of drunking himself into a stupor, no matter how much he wanted to...

...and gods, he wanted to. Wanted to throw caution to the winds and just...

He shot that train of thought in the legs before it could proceed any further. No, he was not keen on bolting out of this place with both humans and youkai on his heels, the way he'd been forced to flee the last time he'd let his guard down for just a moment.

One too many glasses of sake, and an absent acknowledgement to the name of Sanzo. And the whole place had collapsed around his ears.

Never again, he swore. The times were becoming far too dangerous for that.

He moved through the crowds, careful to avoid unwanted attention. The loose cloak that he wore around the robes helped, certainly. Travelling priests were objects of much speculation these days. Travelling priests with amethyst eyes and gold hair... were simply asking for trouble.

At that thought, he pulled the hood closer and clung closer to the shadows.

There had been no youkai for a while. The Minus Wave had not yet reached this place, and the youkai who retained their sanity had left quietly rather than face crowds of paranoid humans. Those who had not left... had been forcibly evicted. There was no better defence against the madness than to avoid it altogether.

At least there had not been ... much ... bloodshed.

He had seen both sides going after each other's throats. Youkai going crazy and turning on human friends who had known them since young was old news. The more secret deeds inflicted by humans on youkai were no less bloody, just less talked about it.

Witch hunts. He'd nearly been pulled into one, three towns back. A priest, they thought, would have been a valued asset.

Muttered excuses about not being allowed to kill, and, more importantly, a quick exit, had spared him from that ordeal.

Non-involvement and non-attachment were the two beliefs that he structured his life around. His mission was far more important than being involved in these matters, even matters of life and death. He would kill all those who obstructed his path... but those who stayed out of his gunsights were safe from him. He had neither time nor bullets to waste.

He was not a savior.

The knowledge that youkai in this region still retained their sanity was a welcomed breath of fresh air. It seemed that he had outrun the Minus Wave for a moment, and a much needed rest was on the cards. Just three.. four... five days. That was all...

Ducking out of the crowds, he turned for the inn. He'd always hated crowds with a vengeance, and with the extra onus of maintaining secrecy upon his shoulders, the press of bodies and the sheer weight of numbers strung his nerves so taut that it was a miracle that they hadn't snapped.

It was then that he noticed the man, standing at the corner of a dark alley, halfway between the light and the shadow.

And if the red hair was any indicator, he also stood halfway between humans... and youkai.

The man turned, and he noted the red eyes, the tell-tale mark of a child of taboo, the product of intercourse between the human and youkai races. He did not know why the halfbreed was here. Certainly, staying in a human settlement with the youkai half of his heritage in plain sight was asking for trouble.

But he cared not. It was not, after all, his business.

Then the red gaze locked with his, and there was a start of recognition in the other's eyes.

He swore and ducked back into the crowd, vaguely aware that the half breed was hurrying towards him. Another one. Another one who knew...

He fled through the market with practiced ease, flowing through the milling masses like water through sand. Evading pursuit was a skill that he had learnt, a long time ago, a skill constantly deployed and which suffered from no lack of practice.

The stream of curses behind him, however, showed that his pursuer was following him with equal speed, if somewhat lacking in grace.

But he'd done his homework -- mapped out the layout of the place and discovered all the hidden alleys and nooks and crannies that could be ducked down and used to evade pursuit. Taking a sharp left, he disappeared into the darkness and vanished down a deserted sidelane.

He turned the corner and paused, the Smith and Wesson appearing in his hand with the speed of thought. And waited.

Silence echoed back down to him. No sound of pursuit, no slap of boots on cobblestones, no hurried footsteps. It seemed that he'd lost the man. At least the fool had the sense not to yell something that would have given the game away.

Or he could look forward to a massacre.

He waited another five minutes, but when no sign of the half breed appeared, he quietly disappeared down another alley, climbed over a wall, and made his silent way back to the inn.

***

No one looked up when he glided silently into the common room and headed for the stairs. There was no sign of the half-breed, for which he heaved a sigh of relief, and something unwound in his chest. But, damn it all, it still meant that he would be leaving a lot earlier than expected. Scowling, he began a mental count of the provisions that he would require to make it to the next town. It was, at least, a good week's travel on foot away.

He flung the hood back as he reached the door, welcoming the breath of air. It was mid-summer, swelteringly hot, and running around had not helped any.

It was then that it hit him, as he laid one hand on the door knob. The whiff of youki, that characteristic aura that surrounded all youkai. And it was faint enough that--

--the door was wrenched open under his hand. Even as he leapt back, someone grabbed him by the front of his robe and yanked him into the room.

There was a slam as the door closed behind, as he kneed the attacker viciously in the stomach and scrambled for his gun. The grip was released and he rolled away, seeking the advantage of space, and mentally measuring the distance between himself and the window. He prang to his feet in one move as the enemy came for him, and brought the gun up and snapped off the safety.

The other skidded to a halt. "Well. At least that's evidence enough that you're not an ordinary monk."

He swore. And swore again. And cursed himself for being utterly careless.

It was the half-breed.

"I'm not here to kill you," the man said, holding out empty hands.

He didn't reply. The gun spoke enough for him. But he didn't shoot, either.

"Ahhhh, you're hopeless." The half-breed sauntered over to the chair and dropped into it, brushing long, shoulder-length red hair out of his eyes. "If I'd really wanted to kill you, my weapon's right there." He glanced over to the side where a long, double-bladed metallic staff leaned against the wall. "So. Are you going to shoot me or what?"

"I should," he bit back. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Gojyo," came the reply. "Genjo Sanzo, I believe?"

The bullet whistled through thin air and slammed into the wall. Sanzo barely had time to wonder where his target had gone, when someone grabbed his gun hand from behind and slammed him, face first, into the wall.

"Idiot! Gunshots in rooms don't go unnoticed!" Gojyo snapped.

He snarled viciously and kicked backwards, and was rewarded with a curse. The grip on his hand didn't slacken, so he jabbed an elbow back, hit thin air, and suddenly, someone kicked his legs out from under him.

The last thing he saw was the floor rushing to meet him.

Then darkness.

Consciousness returned a minute or so later. He blinked, his vision blurring in and out unsteadily, then swore violently and pushed himself off the floor. His gun was gone. Damn damn and damn.

"Sorry about that," a voice said from somewhere to his right. "But then again, you were trying to kill me."

"Who the hell are you?" he ground out, staggering to his feet with one hand pressed against a throbbing temple.

"Gojyo. Sha Gojyo. And, I guess the chakra says what you don't seem to want to admit to."

It was then that he realized the bandanna was gone. Hellfires.

So. He'd lost the advantage for the moment. But the game was far from over. Sighing, he stepped over to the bed and sat down, since the only chair was taken. "Alright. You have my attention. What do you want?"

"Only the same thing that everyone wants you to do, Sanzo-sama. Save the world."

He was going to have the mother of all headaches in a moment. And the gun was nowhere in evidence. This guy was good. He was also, in short order, going to be dead. "And what if I say no?"

"I'm afraid it isn't really up to you to choose, is it?" Gojyo commented.

"It's my life."

"One life against the lives of millions. Isn't personal sacrifice supposed to be one of those Buddhism ideals?"

He was sick and tired of conversations like these. "No. It isn't. Not that I would buy it, even if it was."

Gojyo laughed. "No, you don't look like the sort."

Ah. So perhaps this wasn't going to follow those normal, tiring arguments that he'd had to face, usually at swordpoint, one too many times. Still, the outcome would probably be the same, and he'd be on the road East within a few hours. No one ever stood in his way for long.

"Still, you can't run away from it forever, you know. Everyone's after you. The youkai for your sutra, the humans for whom you are ..."

"Then I intend to run as long and as far as possible."

"... even the gods are pissed."

"What?"

Gojyo produced a pack of Hi-Lites from a pocket and tooking his time lighting up. Sanzo waited, quietly assessing the situation and trying to locate his gun. The search proved futile; it was not in plain sight.

A stream of smoke curled away as Gojyo exhaled. "Two weeks ago. I was quite happily -- well, quite unhappily, but that's another story, sitting at home. Then there's this flash of light, this blast of trumpets, falling confetti, birdsong--"

"--get to the point, damnit."

"Not patient, are you?"

No. He wasn't. Not when he was so furious that he wanted people dead. Preferably Gojyo. But the man had his gun and his sutras, and.. for the moment, his interest.

"Get to the point."

"Then this goddess appears. Kanzeon Bosatsu herself, if what her shadow says is right. And man, is she one hot--"

"--Get. To. The. Point." The headache was starting to make a grand entrance, alright. Where the hell was that bottle of whisky?

"Yeah. We talked. But the long and short of it is that... you're basically going in the wrong direction. So she pointed me in the direction, and said : Go and get him back. Normally, I wouldn't drop everything and run for anybody, but that witch can be persuasive."

So. Either this guy was lying through his teeth, or he had some serious evading to do. Not easy, when gods could reputedly see you whereever you were. "And why doesn't she turn up herself?" he asked, deliberately keeping his tone as skeptical as possible.

"Non-interference policy and all that. Can't get directly involved, because this is basically our business. Actually, it's probably more along the lines of : This is your world, Big Fat Demon King's your problem, fix it yourself." He glanced over, red eyes partially shielded by red hair. "And you, mister, are supposed to be in charge of fixing the problem."

"Which is exactly what I'm doing," Sanzo returned, leaning back against the wall. "I don't intend to bring the sutras into danger. Logically, it's the most stupid thing you could possibly do."

"Yes, but who's going to stop this whole thing?"

"If they don't get the sutras, they can't very well even start it, right?"

"You call this 'Not starting'?" Gojyo replied, a hint of anger seeping through his previously relaxed tone. "This Minus Wave nonsense and all that?"

"The Minus Wave will burn itself out sooner or later. Or they can send someone else. Someone who doesn't have his hands full looking after the sutras."

Gojyo jabbed the cigarette viciously into the asstray. Ah. Somehow he'd pissed the man off.

"Sooner or later?" Gojyo growled. "Define 'later', asshole. Look around you. Don't you see all the carnage and bloodshed? Or are you way too caught up in your own petty little troubles to care? It's all about you, isn't it? The world can go to hell as long as you don't have to get your hands dirty?"

If he'd not gone through this so many times before, he would probably have lost his temper entirely and gone after Gojyo, headache or no, gun or no, and not stopped until he'd beaten the man into a bloody pulp. As it was, he dug for his own pack of Marlboros instead. "As I said, they can always send someone else."

"Ah. I think I forgot to mention." The anger had gone cold now, an icy, biting sort of cold. "They need the sutra to complete the resurrection, we need the sutra to stop it. And, if you just happened to give a damn, there are two people who's lives are depending on you right now."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I mean that you screwed up. You should have gone to Chou'An a long time ago. There are three people who were supposed to follow you. One of them, much to my regret, appears to be me. The other two have yet to be found. One of them... is going to die if you don't stop this pigheaded running. The other one's been waiting for you for five hundred years. And, at the rate things are going, is liable to continue waiting for the rest of eternity."

This was rapidly becoming ridiculous. "And you expect me to believe all of that?"

"No. I expect you to buy the whole thing, turn around, get back on that road to Chou'An, and, incidently, stop companion number 1 before he goes on a rampage and slaughters one thousand youkai."

"Right," he replied sardonically. "And how do you know all of this, pray tell?"

"Divine intervention. I mentioned it before."

Sanzo rose and stepped over to the window. "And, just out of curiosity... what if I don't buy into all this nonsense?"

"Then I knock you over the head and drag you back to Chou'An where the Three Aspects can give you the ass-flaying of your life."

Sanzo turned from the view with deliberate slowness, the fires of fury smouldering in his eyes. "I don't take orders from anybody," he ground out. "Not the gods. Not the priests. Not you."

"Yeah. I wouldn't expect you to. But like it or not, you're heading back west with me. Now."

***
TBC
***