Shadow Over the Sun

Chapter one

The Wrongness

A/n: This is the first time I\'ve written Kougaiji or any of his group. So please bare with any OOCness. Some was necessary, you\'ll understand by the end.
More at bottom.

Warnings: Some gore, self-abuse, swearing

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. As if you didn\'t know that.

To the reviewers:

NJ- Yeah, I totally hated myself when I wrote it. Um, Goku... Sadly you find out here how he died. I went easy on him, but I still hate myself for killing him. I love that kid. I think Goku is adorable. You also find out who killed them here. I\'m glad you liked!

BakaTulip- Thank you. Here\'s more. Unfortunately, this chapter isn\'t any happier, but it\'ll get alittle lighter next chapter. I promise!

Liz- Oo, brownies! ^_^ I agree, Hakkai/Sanzo doesn\'t get nearly enough attention. This story is mostly shonen-ai, but I promise there will be smut at least twice by the end. Thank you. I hope I don\'t disappoint.

MikaSamu- Thank you. I\'m glad I kept their actions true to the characters. Hakkai really can smile through anything, if he thinks it\'ll help someone else. And I always though Sanzo cared a lot more about his companions than he lets on. Hope you enjoy this next part.

nekomegami_chan- Thank you so much.

FeistyRed- Beautiful? Really? Thank you. I wanted the reader to be right there with Sanzo. I\'m glad I succeeded.

Tab- Thanks muchly!


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It was the smell that he noticed first, as he stood outside the plain door of one of the many empty rooms that made up his home, Houtou Castle. He couldn’t place the smell, it was something cloying and familiar but the source eluded him.

Kougaiji’s hand froze on the handle. For some inexplicable reason, he was nervous. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to find out what happened to Sanzo and his companions after one of his men had waltzed in with the blood stained Maten sutra in hand.

Goku’s death was the only one he had witnessed, having faced off with him at the start of the battle. But Sanzo and the others were nowhere in sight and the boy had been distracted. Which left the perfect opening for a few of his men who had gotten overzealous in the protection of their prince.

A crossbow bolt had taken Goku in the chest as he whipped around, calling Sanzo’s name. He hadn’t gone down right away, fighting bravely despite the injury. It had taken Kougaiji’s entire unit to finally bring Goku down.

The prince shuddered as he recalled the boy’s arrow-riddled body. But Goku had died a warrior’s death, and Kougaiji deeply respected his spirit and skill.

After the havoc died down and Koushu’s quacks settled down with the sutras, readying for the final experiments that would revive Goumao, Kougaiji insisted on seeing the other’s bodies.

He honestly didn’t know how to react when told that the Sanzo party had been taken care of. Part of him had never expected it would come to this, that he wouldn’t be the one to finish it. Another part, a part he spent so much time denying, was unbelievably sad. He knew grief, having become acquainted with loss too often in his life.

“Mother,” he whispered, thinking of his ever present guilt.

Why he felt guilty, he couldn’t really say, but he felt it nonetheless. It confused him. This feeling he was having now was very different from the guilt and grief he felt for his mother’s situation.

A strange sense of foreboding gripped him and he tightened his hold on the doorknob. A shiver raced down his spine. Dokugakuji and Yaone hovered tensely behind him, probably sensing the same thing as him. Something was very wrong.

He opened the door and the world stopped, freezing him in place so quickly, Yaone almost ran into him. He heard her gag. It smelled like a slaughter house, the thick odor of blood and death coiled in the back of his throat like a noxious snake, assaulting his heightened senses and choking him.

At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. Something in his mind kept repeating, “It’s not real. It can’t be real,” stopping any other thoughts.

Sanzo lay in the center of the room, his legs spread out from his body, recognizable only by his blond hair and loose robe. But Kougaiji couldn’t believe it was him. Surely the human body wasn’t capable of producing that much blood.

Yaone collapsed to her knees beside him, pulling his attention away from the gruesome sight before him. One hand flew to her mouth, the other pressed flat against her breast as it heaved with her sobs.

“Oh, gods.” She moaned the words, repeating them over and over like a prayer.

Kougaiji looked away, wanting to comfort her but unable to do it. He studied Sanzo’s lifeless body, unable to tear his eyes away, taking in every detail. He heard Dokugakuji mutter something under his breath and run from the room, followed by the sound if his retching.

It was wrong, so very wrong. The wrongness of it hung thick in the air, making bile rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Somehow, it seemed too disrespectful.

Tattered robes lay open around Sanzo’s lithe body, soaking up the blood flowing freely from wounds too numerous to count, so that the once-white cloth looked like a crimson aura surrounding his prone form.

The smooth column of his throat and the white flesh of his finely muscled chest were violated by slashed streaks of red and jagged lines of puncture wounds that looked like teeth marks.

Eyes, the same deep purple as a fresh bruise, stared into nothingness, glassy and useless as a porcelain dolls. Gone was the spark of life created by the priest’s fiery personality and indomitable will, leaving nothing but the broken, empty shell of a once great man.

It looked as though someone had made an unsuccessful attempt to skin him. There were long deep gashes covering his entire body. Some were deeper than others, cutting all the way through soft tissue and muscle on the sharp angles of his hips and along his ribs, exposing the white, glistening wet of bone.

Black jeans barely clung in shreds to long bloodied thighs littered with deep punctures where claws dug into flesh.

Kougaiji moved closer to the priest, kneeling beside his body, mindless of the blood soaking into his white pants. He let out a low anguished moan when his noticed the blood pooling under Sanzo’s hips. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one deserved to die this way. Sanzo didn’t deserve to die this way.

The prince tore open his white coat, ripping the fastenings in his haste to get it off. He gently laid it over the priest’s exposed body, knowing proud Sanzo wouldn’t want to be left that way.

Extending his hand, his fingers wavered over the priest’s face. He stared into glazed violet eyes, swallowed back the thickness in his throat, and tentatively brushed his fingers over the lids, closing them.

Anger, pain, and sorrow so black and consuming it numbed him, took over and he choked back a sob. Tears fell from his eyes before he realized he’d started crying. They landed on Sanzo’s slashed, crimson streaked face as Kougaiji bent over his body, ragged, broken sobs issuing from his open mouth. They were mixed with unintelligible words only he knew the meaning of.

“This is my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kougaiji let out a pained, defeated cry, fisting his hand, welcoming the pain of his claws digging into his palm. He slammed his fist into the floor, sending long cracks through the grey marble by Sanzo’s head.

He brought his hand back and slammed it down again, unaware of the pain blossoming through his hand as the small bones of his knuckles cracked. The sickening snap of bone was audible the third time he punched the floor. Kougaiji reveled in it, determined in his quest to break every bone in his hand.

Yaone’s panicked voice broke through his haze of self-abuse. “Lord Kougaiji! Stop! You’re hurting yourself,” she cried through heaving sobs.

That was the fucking point. Didn’t she see that? He was useless, completely and utterly useless. Prince Kougaiji was nothing more than a pawn in that bitch’s games. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t save his mother from her pillar prison, couldn’t save his sister from that sick freak Nii, and couldn’t save Sanzo from the brutality and humiliation of rape. He was such a useless weakling, he couldn’t even save himself.

Kougaiji knew, deep down, that he was not meant to win this fight. The real victors lie dead on the floor before him. It felt like someone’s idea of a twisted cosmic joke. Fate had screwed up somewhere, he could feel it. There was the wrongness again, teasing at the corners of his mind, hinting at some greater truth he couldn’t begin to comprehend.

He yelled again. He was going mad, his mind trying to shy away from that haunting whisper that told him he knew something he was not meant to know.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him away from the blood and the death and into a warm, comforting embrace. Kougaiji twisted and buried his face against Dokugakuji’s hard, unyielding chest, unable to control his trembling.

The taller demon hugged him tighter, whispering meaningless, soothing things in his ear. Kougaiji clung to Doku’s torso, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and allowed himself to be led from the room.

Kougaiji ordered that Goku’s body be brought to the room after he’d had a few hours to get a hold of himself. He sat in a far corner, knees drawn up, keeping a large distance between himself and the bodies of the Sanzo Party. Every time he neared, the little voice he referred to as ‘the wrongness’ would make chaos in his mind. Kougaiji was reaching the end of his rope. There was no doubt that he was truly going insane.

Two demons brought in Goku’s body, one holding his legs, the other his shoulders. They dropped the boy unceremoniously to the floor, where he landed beside Sanzo with a sickening thud.

Kougaiji hissed something at them, but he didn’t know if they’d heard him or if he’d actually spoken, because they didn’t acknowledge him. The demons left silently, sending nervous glances at Dokugakuji’s imposing figure at the door.

The door closed, sending them back dim flickering light created by the candles Yaone brought in.

Yaone had taken over the task of cleaning and preparing the bodies for burial. Dokugakuji had tried to help, but every time he looked at Gojyo’s broken form, he choked back a sob and left the room.

Sanzo and Hakkai’s bodies lay wrapped in white linen side by side on the floor. Kougaiji watched Yaone put the last wrap over Hakkai’s face. Candlelight played over her pale, tear streaked face, making it look hauntingly drawn and waxy.

Kougaji fingered the bandage on his hand. New tears began to flow down Yaone’s cheeks, as she looked sadly into Hakkai’s slack face.

“Hakkai-dono,” she whispered through the tears, covering his face for the last time.

Kougaiji laughed, a short, manic sound, and shook his head. Yaone’s head shot up, obviously startled. She looked at him sadly for a moment, and then returned to her task. Dokugakuji gave him a narrow-eyed look, part confusion, part reproach at the sudden sound. Another laugh surfaced in his throat but he held it back, shaking his head again.

“You’re losing it, Kou,” Doku said from his place by the door, disapproval clear in his tone.

Kougaiji had to laugh at that. That was Doku, never one to mince words.

“I lost it awhile ago, Doku,” Kougaiji responded, mocking his tone.

Doku walked over and eased himself down beside Kougaiji. Their shoulders touched. The prince stiffened, then relaxed.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Doku said, concerned. “You need to get it together.”

Kougaiji laughed bitterly. Doku ignored him.

“I know this is hard for you. And I know you think it’s your fault, but people die, Kou. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“But it’s wrong,” Kougaiji whispered, eyes fixed on the still, linen wrapped forms.

“Death is never right,” Doku answered bitterly.

Kougaiji shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He leaned toward Dokugakuji. “Can’t you sense it? Something went wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Doku looked confused. “What’re you talking about?”

Kougaiji leaned against Doku’s shoulder, taking in the comfort of his presence. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. And it’s driving me crazy.”

Doku let out a defeated sigh and put his arm around Kou, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised softly.

Yaone finished the preparations silently, giving no sign as to whether or not she’d heard their hushed conversation. Kougaiji didn’t know if he wanted her to know he was slowly losing his mind. She counted on him. He didn’t want to be useless to her, too.

Kougaiji stood awkwardly, legs stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. He nodded to Doku, signaling him to go get the men who would carry the bodies to their graves. His friend left with a slight nod and a soft concerned glance. Kougaiji placed a gentle hand on Yaone’s shoulder, earning a weak, sad smile from the purple-haired apothecary.

“We need to go,” he said quietly.

“Of course, my lord.”

His mother’s garden: a single spot of life in the desolate landscape surrounding the castle. In his mother’s absence, the flora had grown wild, overtaking the neat, orderly plots. The savage beauty of it never failed to take Kougaiji’s breath away.

Trees, whose branches hung heavily with a riot of hearty deep red flowers, lined the high walls. The thick fleshy petals littered the ground beneath the trees, bruised and defeated, but still beautiful. Dark green strands of vines wound around the trunks and curled over the ground, dotted with large blooms in varying shades of purple, red and yellow.

Kougaiji buried the Sanzo party by the far side of the garden, where the large blossoming trees heavily scented the air and created cool, soothing shade. The four fresh graves with their plain wooden markers were all that remained of the supposed saviors of the world.

And the wrongness clung to the area, sending now familiar chills down Kougaiji’s spine. It whispered through the trees, speaking of truths and destinies and fate, and the prince collapsed to his knees, sobbing as it ransacked his mind.

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TBC

A/n: There, first chapter done. I\'m glad I was able to get it out relatively quickly. Kougaiji took over. But I like him so it\'s okay. Don\'t worry Sanzo party fans! They\'ll get their turn.

I hope you enjoyed this. I don\'t know about it. One of my pre-readers said she was disappointed. *shurgs* Well, readers? What do you think? I would still like to know if I\'m wasting my time. Review, please.

Next Chapter:

Our heroes return, but their deaths have forever changed them. Can they still save the world? Or have they admitted defeat?

And where is Goku?