Author's Notes: I know I haven't got Sanzo's traits nailed here. It's just that it's been a long time since I've handled characters not of my own (pathetic excuse I know). Besides, I really do need a 'reflective' Sanzo for the succeeding chapters. So please, bear with me.
Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Chapter 1
"Musings"
Even after living in the temple for most of my life, I found that I never got quite used to having so many people around me. At least not those who constantly annoy me. Being a Sanzo at such an early age gave me the luxury of power. And anyone who dared cross my path was struck down by my wordless glare. Thus people usually left me alone, preferring to approach me only when dire matters needed to be discussed. But I was content to be left alone. Alone to stew in my own private thoughts. I did not need anyone near me especially when I engage in one of my dark moods. I don't really want to involve anyone when I start to agonize about my past. They had nothing to do with it, so I prefer that they not be dragged into the dark realms of my mind, considering my tendency to lash out without much consideration to the feelings of the other when I'm lost in my past. They were some who managed to pluck enough courage to talk to me, to try to get me to engage in their senseless conversations. Others scurry about to try to please me to the best of their efforts, only to annoy me in the end. I have no patience for such people, and I often give them the dressing down they deserve. Though most times a simple glare would be sufficient to send them off their way, giving them enough fright to behave themselves in front of me the next time we met. But these men who surrounded me now were very much unlike the ones I had met before in the past. Countless time I have bestowed upon them my infamous glare. Countless times I have whisked away my harisen from the folds of my robes to send it crashing down upon their heads. I shouted at them. I scolded them. Hell, I even fired at them, but still they would not listen. Oh they'd fall silent for a while. But then the peacefulness would be shattered mere minutes later as one of them starts opening his mouth. And then the string of insults would start again. I never understood how any of them could last so long in my company. I never understood how and why after everything we've been through, they could still find it in themselves to laugh, to be so carefree. But then I realized those smile were only facades. It was their way of coping with the scars of their past. They've tried so hard to mask the pain, and they've worn those masks for so long that it finally became integrated into their being. When confronted, I doubt they would be able to distinguish the mask from the real self. We are all so jaded after all. Men still in the early 20's, but the burden we carry on our backs make us feel older. Maybe this is the reason behind their behaviors. 'Live your life while you can,' I think I heard someone say. Probably Gojyo. But those are all mere hypotheses. The thoughts of a troubled man. I will never know the reasons behind their actions...their motives behind everything...because I will never ask. What they do with themselves, with their lives, I do not care. I have enough already on my hands worrying about the mission, and about the enemies that seem to delight on accompanying us wherever we go. More important, I have their childish attitudes to take care of. I don't care alright if they prefer to act 10 years less their age, but I start caring when their voices start to grate on my ears, like what they're doing now.
I feel the anger mounting inside of me as the baka saru continued on with his tirade on the injustices of the weather, his whinings on his hunger, and his bombardment of questions on when we'll reach the next town. I could feel the veins popping on my head as his nasal voice continued to assail my ears. I tried to ignore him. One would think that after living with him for so long I would get used to his behaviour by now. But I was never a patient man. On top of that, I was one of those who tend to react on instinct, having to rely on it to save my skin in numerous occasions. My instincts have yet to fail me. So now, as I feel the uncontrollable itch on my fingers, I give in to the desire and draw out my gun, eliciting silence in the air as I fired a couple of rounds.
I almost sighed in bliss as I drowned myself in the serenity that fell on the group. They've probably caught on to my moody silence as no words of comfort escaped Hakkai's lips. We drove on in perfect tranquility, a luxury I do not often get to enjoy as of the late. The calming silence soothes my anger, and it dwindles rapidly. I am again lost in my own mind, as I let myself be swept by the torrent of my own thoughts. I resume the line of thought I have been pursuing a while ago, before I had been rudely interrupted by their loud racket. And I realize with a start that I had not given any thought to the youngest member of the group. It was completely unnecessary though. I do not need to put in any real effort to understand that saru. Goku had never been hard to read from the start. He was as open about himself as an open book. Every single play of emotion was displayed upon his features. The fact that he did not hesitate to be vocal about his own thoughts only made him easier to decipher. He was in so many ways like a child. So innocent and naive about the world. Easily excitable with new knowledge gained. Exuberant in facing all that life had to offer. There were times when I regret ever bringing him with me in my journey. He should've stayed at the temple, then perhaps his innocence will be spared. Perhaps then his hands wouldn't have been stained with so much blood. Yet there was also a part of me that vehemently denied this accusation. The colder part of me refusing to be defeated and claim responsibility for his current situation. 'He tainted himself with blood by his own will. I never forced him to join me. I never asked him to kill for me. What he does is his own choice and is of no consequence to me.'
My mind became a battle zone as conflicts arouse within my soul. Old issues resurfaced accompanied by new ones that left more questions in its wake. Unbidden, my gaze flew up to the rearview to catch a glimpse of him. To seek some form of reassurance within myself and end this inner turmoil, only to find myself staring at those luminous gold eyes as he returned my gaze evenly. In spite of myself, I find I couldn't tear my eyes off him, try as I might. I feel myself sinking into those pools of gold. Sucking me in until all coherent thought fled my mind. I was fascinated with those eyes. How it remained so vibrant, radiating with such purity it almost hurt to look at them. The utter ridiculousness of those thoughts escaped me for the moment as violet remained locked with gold. But then his gaze shifted, and those eyes looked on to me with question and worry. With that simple gesture, the spell that seemed to hold me dissipated, and I was snapped back to reality. Yet, even as my gaze left his, I could still feel those eyes burning on my back.
"Hn," was all I said in reply to that silent inquiry. My features dropped into a scowl as I realize that I let it happen to me. Again. I seem to be experiencing these spells of captivation more often. This insatiable hunger for those eyes makes it harder for me to withdraw. It scares me how addicting those eyes can be. I feared the day when that addiction will get a hold of my life, not being able to pass a day without gazing at that pair of jewels that were his eyes. But for now, I can hold on. I am determined not to give in to this desire. I am safe for the meantime.
The first time those eyes held me captivated flew way back three years ago when I had been in the middle of my journey back to the temple. It was that annoying voice in my head that prompted me to veer off my path and to find the source of my irritation. It took me five damn days to get there. The experience was one I would not like to be repeated again considering all the cuts and wounds I received, not to mention the exhaustion I felt upon climbing that stupid mountain. It was a tremulous hike, to say the least. Suicidal to say the most. If it were not for that insistent voice in my head, I would not have gone so far. My need to get rid of it was so bad I even considered blowing up the mountain in my ire. But as they were no explosives at hand, I was left with the other viable option, which was to continue climbing up and shoot whoever that person's brains out the moment I catch sight of him. As I reached a certain distance, halfway to the top, I was able to spy this small cave barely jutting off the cliff you could almost miss it at first glance. The only reason why I didn't was that voice. That annoying voice. It seemed to come out stronger here and I could almost hear what that voice was saying. At first it was just my name being uttered. So softly you could mistake it for the lonely cry of the wind. Then I could hear it. The despair. The pleading in his voice. Then the sounds became words forming in my mind.
'If this was underground then I would never have longed for the sun...'
'It's so cold. So heavy. So painful. I don't want to wear these chains anymore... I don't want to stay in the darkness anymore. Please...I just want to touch the sun...'
The pain in those words served like a compelling force. It beckoned to me from where I stood, until I found my feet carrying me to the mouth of the cave, curious eyes eager to penetrate the darkness from within. What I saw startled me beyond belief. Inside sitting hunched on the ground was a scrawny little boy. Maybe 12 or 14 years of age. Ugly black chains held him shackled on the ground, its short length never allowing him more than a few paces of movement. His thinness betrayed the starvation he was put through. The chaffs on his wrists betrayed the painful sensation he must be feeling, of metal rubbing roughly against lightly tanned skin. But it was those eyes, those molten gold eyes that had me enthralled. Never before had I seen such a beautiful shade of eyes on a seemingly innocent face. But the look of utter desolation on it seemed so wrong for one as young as he. And the bars and shackles seemed too extreme to hold such a captive. Against my own accord my hands move to reach out to him. The bars that held him shattered into millions of pieces like glass. And the shackles on his neck and limbs broke and fell to the floor in a dull thud.
And then the emotions were replaced with surprise and uncertainty. However, after seeing my stretched hands, it dawned on him. He was finally free! And I was there to witness the marvelous change in his eyes. From the dull dead look, to one of immense joy. The words inside my head had also changed into a lighter tune. The dark emotions already swept away by disbelief and excitement. And an immeasurable amount of gratitude. Slowly he stood up and placed his own grubby little hands upon my own. The feeling of hesitancy gradually diminishing as I clasped my hands on his and drew him closer, wanting to take a closer look at his eyes as it shined brightly in the sunlight. The words came rushing back to my mind. But the urgency was gone. And the pleading note was replaced with one of awe.
'His hair..so beautiful...like the sun...'
Before I could stop myself, the words had already left my lips. "Kono baka saru."
And there the cycle started.
His unwavering devotion probably stemmed from that incident. I never questioned it. He never bothered explaining. I doubt his rusty little brain would even be able to come up with a decent answer when asked. So I saved him the effort of thinking. But I always wondered, if someday he'll get tired of following me, of trying to withstand my verbal and often times physical abuse. Tired of my callousness. Tired of me...
-TBC-
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Reviews will be much appreciated.