Disclaimer: The ideas are mine, but Saiyuki does not belong to me.
Some of you said they were confused… the idea in itself is a simple one.. What if the Sanzou ikkou were not reincarnated in the way shown to us in 'Saiyuki'? What if Tempou Gensui was born as a half demon, in the same environment in which originally Kenren was born as Gojyo? How would events change? Hopefully, this makes things more clear…
Oh, and excuse the delay, but would not accept uploads for the past week.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
While the red fragment were to take the place of the green fragment…
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The boy pulls up the nets slowly for they are much heavier then usual. He smiles, thinking of the many fish he and his mother will be able to sell at the market, and of what they will buy. With a final effort he pulls them all onto his boat, and unrolls the net to feast his eyes on his catch.
The look on his face quickly turns into one of horror. A petrified shriek echoes round the wharf.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
He turns around slowly. He knows it is the end, but he does not care. It is this end which he has longed for, this end which he has been desperately looking for. It is the death he deserves.
This time he does not tremble, nor does he cry or run to others for protection. There is no one to run to this time, he reminds himself. They are all gone. Because of me.
He clutches the knife he holds in his hand tightly. It seems but a foolish toy, when faced with the deadly claws they bear, but he has nothing else. Yet he will not merely allow them to kill him, although he knows death to be inevitable. He wants to die fighting, like his father.
He lunges forward, his knife gleaming brightly in the moonlight.
¬¬¬¬¬¬
A large crowd is on the shore. The middle-aged woman in a black habit approaches, curious to know what has drawn the crowd there. She catches a few words…dead… child…. youkai… claws…shame… The nun pushes herself through the crowd, reaching the front, where a young lad, pale and trembling, is surrounded by solicitous relatives, while he gestures weakly towards a small figure lying on the golden sand of the bay.
It is the woman's turn to pale, and she stumbles towards the still figure, once so full of life. She drops on her knees beside the dead child, and makes the sign of the cross. The crowd's attention is now shifted towards the nun, as she cries, rocking back and forth, murmuring the name of the child… Cho Gonou… Cho Gonou…
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
The youkai screams as the knife cuts through his flesh. The boy, moves back, drawing out the knife as he does so. He is small but he has nothing to lose. He lusts for blood, and does not care whether it is his or that of the youkai.
"I hate you!" His voice sounds high and childish, even to himself, but then.. he is only a child. He is answered by soft laughter as the demon approaches, holding his right arm, from which blood flows freely. The child is tense and rigid, ready for any attack, but he is too slow to avoid the sharp claws which tear at his arms, his chest, his face. So this is how my mother must have felt, he thinks, as he remembers the sight of her mutilated corpse lying on the cold ground.
He raises his eyes, eyes which have seen too much for any child to bear. They meet the murderous gaze of the youkai, lips parted showing white fangs, arm coming down for the final blow .
His foot loses its hold as he feels a tearing pain in his chest and watches the red blood gush out of his wounds… and he falls down into the darkness…
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
They take the nun into the nearest house, with a man carrying the child's body. People shudder as they see the torn flesh, the pale lips, the soulless eyes, staring into emptiness. The nun caresses the thick black hair as she weeps over him. "He would have been beautiful had he lived," she says, and the women nod.
A common story, that of this child, one of the many left orphan by a youkai attack on their homes. But this one was different, he blamed himself for his parents' death, and wanted only to share their fate; he could not take to life at the orphanage. He had run away several times but had always been brought back. But this time…
The nun puts her hand on his face and closes his eyes. She bends down and kisses his forehead, murmuring a short prayer for his soul. She can do but one thing for this child. She will take him back to their village, where in death, he will once again be with those he loves.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Down, down, down he falls over the edge of the precipice, reaching the cold waters far below. The pain grows stronger, and he feels life ebbing away. He raises his eyes to the heavens one last time and smiles, for there he sees the stars shining brightly amidst the darkness of the night.
The cold, deep waters engulf his lifeless body, while his soul soars up into the heavens.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Thank you for all those who reviewed. I'm glad most of you seemed to like it. Positive comments are always very encouraging. As for my use of the present tense, I'm sorry, but I fully intend to keep on using it, as I think it is much more effective than the past tense in such a story.
