Post by silverflame on Oct 16, 2007 19:20:30 GMT -5
Note: I'll rate this T for blood and I guess the mention of violence. There might be some mild language, I just don't remember. I don't own any of the characters mentioned. They are all from Saiyuki which is owned by Kazuya Minekura.
This is Genjyo Sanzo's thoughts as he looks out his hotel room window during a rainstorm. It's all in first person, something I haven't done in a while.
Falling Rain
I can remember everything, thanks to the rain. Just the sound brings back the screams, the fear….the tears, though they’re never seen. So many years ago I saw him fall. Why did he have to shield me? If he hadn’t, he would still be alive. He would be here, the only man I saw as my father, my master. Does he see me now? What does he think of the orphan he plucked from the river? I don’t know. I’ve fought to keep his words alive, to keep them inside.
“Be strong.”
I’m not strong. Not like he was. He was stronger than all of us. Yet I’m the one that’s alive.
The drumming rain.
If I look close enough I can almost see him sitting in the window, watching the drops collecting on the glass, the ground. He was always so kind, gentle. He was the only one I could ever truly trust.
To hell with this.
I should have done something. I should have… How could I? He had made sure I couldn’t do anything. I was frozen in place, not with fear but by a spell. Was it his way of protecting me? I still don’t know why I was spared. And those creatures, they stole what was precious to me.
Koumyou Sanzo.
I lost my master’s scripture that night, have been searching for it ever since. How long before I get it back? The last bit of my master that was put into that sutra, at least that’s how I see it. He was meant to protect it, and now that’s passed onto me. To make him proud, to prove I am worthy to carry his title, I will get it back.
All the battles I’ve fought, none compare to the one I face now. These memories, they’re suffocating. I need a breath, but all around me is the rain. The sound is like falling blood. The ground almost seems to turn crimson as I watch. The blood I’ve spilt, covering it completely, leaving no sign of the ground. Is taking a life worth the pain you feel in the end? I’ve wondered about this since those four years. And they still haven’t come to end. I still feel the emptiness, the silence that echoes around me. Is it strange for me to crave the silence even though it’s brought nothing but these painful memories? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I don’t care any more.
Hold nothing.
I’ve lived by what I thought it meant to hold nothing, never letting anything hold me back. So why do I let the three idiots lead me into situations I’d rather avoid? Or is that all just an excuse for how I act about it? I still go into the fight, gun drawn, prepared to take another life. It’s all so easy. The weight of their lives, the weight of my own, when will it all crush the breath from me? When will it end?
The sun peaks through the clouds, yet the rain continues. Millions of tears, some falling for the loss, for what I’ve taken, other for what was taken from me, a past that now seems like a nightmare I wish I could wake from.
It rained the night my old friend came. He had changed almost beyond recognition. Those eyes which had once held kindness, and concern, had turned into eyes full of pain, and yet empty, so much like my own.
He asked me to take his life, his eyes begged for it. His soul was suffering, and all I had to do was pull the trigger. I still remember the feel of his hand as he held my wrist before the end. For a moment, he had come back, the same old Shuei I had remembered. The only one I had ever given anything to. Such a token was the reason why he was still alive, if you could call it that.
Another life taken by me, more blood covering my hands, splattered on my skin. Am I recognizable by anyone any more? The boy everyone had seen as an orphan prince now bathed in such a deep red as to never be pure again.
Who cares? I doubt anyone does, and I don’t want them to. I don’t want them to think I’m not capable of taking care of myself. Their voices are so irritating; so empty, and lacking in sincerity. I want to silence them all, but I won’t strike someone that hasn’t done anything to stop me. Some might see me as a monster, no better than the demons that attack. What do they know? They’re the same hypocrites that called themselves holy only to turn away someone that needed their guidance most. They make me sick. I won’t condescend to their level. I know my honesty is hard for people to handle. It’s for them to decide if they want to listen or not. I won’t force them.
The rain dwindles down to a drizzle, though the ground is still soaked with patches of water that Goku is likely to splash in, such a stupid monkey. I’ve never found an answer of why I took him with me. Was it the dumb look on his face as he looked up at me? Or was it the fact he’d been locked up for so long, he wouldn’t have survived without someone there for him? Maybe it was just fate, if there is such a thing.
I gather what few things I have in the room with me, we’ll be leaving soon. One more glance out the window, one more view of the peaceful moment after the storm. They’ve said there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, calm after the worst storm, and end to everything. Why do I still feel this way? Why do I still feel like my heart and soul are still coursing as though in their own storm? I might not be the same as a few minutes before, but I still feel it. When will it end? When will I find my own peace?
This is Genjyo Sanzo's thoughts as he looks out his hotel room window during a rainstorm. It's all in first person, something I haven't done in a while.
Falling Rain
I can remember everything, thanks to the rain. Just the sound brings back the screams, the fear….the tears, though they’re never seen. So many years ago I saw him fall. Why did he have to shield me? If he hadn’t, he would still be alive. He would be here, the only man I saw as my father, my master. Does he see me now? What does he think of the orphan he plucked from the river? I don’t know. I’ve fought to keep his words alive, to keep them inside.
“Be strong.”
I’m not strong. Not like he was. He was stronger than all of us. Yet I’m the one that’s alive.
The drumming rain.
If I look close enough I can almost see him sitting in the window, watching the drops collecting on the glass, the ground. He was always so kind, gentle. He was the only one I could ever truly trust.
To hell with this.
I should have done something. I should have… How could I? He had made sure I couldn’t do anything. I was frozen in place, not with fear but by a spell. Was it his way of protecting me? I still don’t know why I was spared. And those creatures, they stole what was precious to me.
Koumyou Sanzo.
I lost my master’s scripture that night, have been searching for it ever since. How long before I get it back? The last bit of my master that was put into that sutra, at least that’s how I see it. He was meant to protect it, and now that’s passed onto me. To make him proud, to prove I am worthy to carry his title, I will get it back.
All the battles I’ve fought, none compare to the one I face now. These memories, they’re suffocating. I need a breath, but all around me is the rain. The sound is like falling blood. The ground almost seems to turn crimson as I watch. The blood I’ve spilt, covering it completely, leaving no sign of the ground. Is taking a life worth the pain you feel in the end? I’ve wondered about this since those four years. And they still haven’t come to end. I still feel the emptiness, the silence that echoes around me. Is it strange for me to crave the silence even though it’s brought nothing but these painful memories? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I don’t care any more.
Hold nothing.
I’ve lived by what I thought it meant to hold nothing, never letting anything hold me back. So why do I let the three idiots lead me into situations I’d rather avoid? Or is that all just an excuse for how I act about it? I still go into the fight, gun drawn, prepared to take another life. It’s all so easy. The weight of their lives, the weight of my own, when will it all crush the breath from me? When will it end?
The sun peaks through the clouds, yet the rain continues. Millions of tears, some falling for the loss, for what I’ve taken, other for what was taken from me, a past that now seems like a nightmare I wish I could wake from.
It rained the night my old friend came. He had changed almost beyond recognition. Those eyes which had once held kindness, and concern, had turned into eyes full of pain, and yet empty, so much like my own.
He asked me to take his life, his eyes begged for it. His soul was suffering, and all I had to do was pull the trigger. I still remember the feel of his hand as he held my wrist before the end. For a moment, he had come back, the same old Shuei I had remembered. The only one I had ever given anything to. Such a token was the reason why he was still alive, if you could call it that.
Another life taken by me, more blood covering my hands, splattered on my skin. Am I recognizable by anyone any more? The boy everyone had seen as an orphan prince now bathed in such a deep red as to never be pure again.
Who cares? I doubt anyone does, and I don’t want them to. I don’t want them to think I’m not capable of taking care of myself. Their voices are so irritating; so empty, and lacking in sincerity. I want to silence them all, but I won’t strike someone that hasn’t done anything to stop me. Some might see me as a monster, no better than the demons that attack. What do they know? They’re the same hypocrites that called themselves holy only to turn away someone that needed their guidance most. They make me sick. I won’t condescend to their level. I know my honesty is hard for people to handle. It’s for them to decide if they want to listen or not. I won’t force them.
The rain dwindles down to a drizzle, though the ground is still soaked with patches of water that Goku is likely to splash in, such a stupid monkey. I’ve never found an answer of why I took him with me. Was it the dumb look on his face as he looked up at me? Or was it the fact he’d been locked up for so long, he wouldn’t have survived without someone there for him? Maybe it was just fate, if there is such a thing.
I gather what few things I have in the room with me, we’ll be leaving soon. One more glance out the window, one more view of the peaceful moment after the storm. They’ve said there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, calm after the worst storm, and end to everything. Why do I still feel this way? Why do I still feel like my heart and soul are still coursing as though in their own storm? I might not be the same as a few minutes before, but I still feel it. When will it end? When will I find my own peace?