Che. It's raining again. Why won't the rain stop, damn it?
I hate the rain. I hate the rain more than I hate most things. Simply because it reminds of stupid things.
Koryu. That was what they used to call me. Koryu, the river drifter. Everyone used to mock me- I was often taunted and laughed at - because Master had found me drifting in the river, abandoned, cold, and shivering. Master told me that I hadn't made any noise, but he had heard me all the same.
I was calling him, begging him to come forth and save me. I refused to believe that I had been in need of such desperate help, and I still don't believe it. Who am I to call for Komryo Sanzo? I was nothing more than an unwanted child. I had no right to live.
But he, my Master, proved me wrong. He was special to me and I loved him. When others mocked me, he praised me. When others hurled insults, he gave me advice. He taught me life itself. He taught me everything. For that, I am grateful.
He is gone now, simply because I had failed to save him that night. Yet, he is with me still, always. When it rains, it reminds me most of my days with my loving master. I feel empty, almost lost, and I curse myself for being so weak. I wish he were alive.
But he is not. That much I know. No matter how painful it is, I will never see his smile again. And the rain that reminds me of him, I hate it, yet deep inside, I secretly hope that it will never stop pouring. For as long as it rains, the memories are imprinted freshly in my mind, brought forth from the depths of my memories, and whatever obstacle I am facing, is obscured. I see only myself and my master.
And I am, in a twisted way, glad.
I hate the rain. I hate the rain more than I hate most things. Simply because it reminds of stupid things.
Koryu. That was what they used to call me. Koryu, the river drifter. Everyone used to mock me- I was often taunted and laughed at - because Master had found me drifting in the river, abandoned, cold, and shivering. Master told me that I hadn't made any noise, but he had heard me all the same.
I was calling him, begging him to come forth and save me. I refused to believe that I had been in need of such desperate help, and I still don't believe it. Who am I to call for Komryo Sanzo? I was nothing more than an unwanted child. I had no right to live.
But he, my Master, proved me wrong. He was special to me and I loved him. When others mocked me, he praised me. When others hurled insults, he gave me advice. He taught me life itself. He taught me everything. For that, I am grateful.
He is gone now, simply because I had failed to save him that night. Yet, he is with me still, always. When it rains, it reminds me most of my days with my loving master. I feel empty, almost lost, and I curse myself for being so weak. I wish he were alive.
But he is not. That much I know. No matter how painful it is, I will never see his smile again. And the rain that reminds me of him, I hate it, yet deep inside, I secretly hope that it will never stop pouring. For as long as it rains, the memories are imprinted freshly in my mind, brought forth from the depths of my memories, and whatever obstacle I am facing, is obscured. I see only myself and my master.
And I am, in a twisted way, glad.