Title: Sutras
Author: AisekiAnrui
Summary: When I read a sutra, it's not for the dead. It's for the living. One-Shot. Slight 38.
Pairings: A pinch of Sanzo/Koumyou, a shake of Kanan/Hakkai, and a little snuff of 38.
Disclaimer: The works of Gensoumaden, Reload, and Saiyuki Gaiden are all created and owned by Kazuya Minekura. I am just a humble follower of Minekura-san's works.
Sutras
When I read a sutra, it's not for the dead. I don't believe in senseless chanting for someone who's not going to hear it. The person's soul is gone, floated up to heaven with angel wings and all that crap. Or maybe if the suckers were real assholes, they were kicked down with the devils into the nine levels of hell. Either way, the person you're saying the sutra for isn't there, gone to some mystical place where they're not going to hear it, where it's not going to do them any good. And that pisses me off. I hate talking when it's not necessary, and why waste the breath reading a sutra for someone who isn't there, doesn't care, and isn't going to hear it?
The thing that sucks though, is that they still ask me. Every time someone dies, every time some idiot gets himself killed, a whole wad of villagers rush up to me, and beg me to read one. "Oh please," they say. "You're a priest, aren't you? Oh, please say a sutra for our friend." It's fucking pathetic if you ask me. To recite endless rounds of a sutra that are meaningless to your average baka villager is a waste of my time. I'm not going to waste what little time I have when I could be on my way to India, or fighting with Kougaiji or that Homura bastard. Why should I go out of my way to chant a sutra for some dead guy I don't even know?
What's worse is when they find out I'm a Sanzo. Then, instead of asking, they practically demand it. In my opinion, it's fucking annoying. Can't they just leave me the fuck alone? A sutra is read to give obeisance to Buddha, to create a bond between those hearing, to wipe away all worldly emotions, and to clear their minds. Village idiots like them don't need their minds cleared, and don't need to be brought together. Their pathetic existences don't need to be helped along by me. All they're going to do with their lives is farm. And I don't waste my time and energy on fucking farmers for nothing.
So every time someone asks me, I always ignore them, or tell them to go to hell. The only time I'd read a sutra, is if someone really needed it. If someone really needed their mind cleared, really needed their soul strengthened, then I would. But that someone would have to be worth it, and they'd have to prove that, afterwards, they'd be able to survive on their own. And….that someone would have to be important. Not to the world necessarily, but to me. They'd have to be someone, who, for whatever fucked up reason, meant something to me. And I can tell you right now, people like that don't turn up often.
So when this Gojyo guy asks me, I'm about to refuse. The words, 'shut up and go to hell,' are already on my lips, when I look over at you. There you are, slumped to the ground, kneeling in the center of the ruins. The ruins of Hyakuganmaoh's castle, where you slayed so many demons long ago. With one hand covering where your eye once was, the other stretched out on the ground, you begin to cry. Quiet sobs, barely audible, leek from your chest. A few words escape your mouth as you cry, and those words float over to me. "Again," you whisper. "I couldn't save heragain."
I stiffen at the words. They seem….so familiar. I had once said something like that, I had once cried for someone I loved. I imagine that the first time you couldn't save her, you were covered in blood, your hands spread out, with tears streaming down your cheeks. I remember that I, too, was covered in blood, kneeling beside the body of the one I loved. And those words, the words you just spoke, bring my own back in a sudden rush of painful memory.
"I… I couldn't protect him."
I bite my lip, and straighten. My Koumyou, your Kanan. One murder, one suicide. One died to keep someone in this world, one died to keep something out of it. I was too weak, and you were too slow. We both lost the one thing we wanted to protect, and after that, the world became hollow, for both of us.
Cho Gonou the murderer, Genjo Sanzo the priest. Inside, we're interchangeable. Inside, we're one and the same.
Grunting, I walk forward, until I'm standing right behind you. "Fine," I say, sitting down. You look up at me, your eyes full of shock. I pull off my crown, letting it thump to the ground, and lay my sutra out in front of me. Glancing up, I look over, and my eyes lock with yours.
"Fine." I say again. "But when I read a sutra, it's not for the dead." I lower my eyes, and begin to read.