TOUSHIN TAISHI'S NOTE: This is dedicated to all my faithful readers, who have not lacked a single review for all the times we've been together. I love you all.
Beautiful
Heretic.
An ordinary word for niingen and yokai, but it can spell a lifetime of hell for a god.
Heretic, a nuisance to Heaven. Heretic, one who brings good fortune and ill luck. Heretic, defined by marks of unusual physique, uncommon ancestry, limitless power and an empty heart.
I am a heretic. I have all the marks that make me nuisance to Heaven, yet, unlike others of the same Fate, I am not bound by steel chains.
All of our lives we had to cope up and bear with misery. Our early days were wasted over to pain and suffering. As children we never really had anyone, except perhaps Homura, who was lucky enough to feel the love of a family, the guidance of a true father and warmth of a mother who was never ashamed to tell them that he was her son.
Seiten Taisei Son Goku, having both eyes of the rarest golden orbs, yet loved by the Nature who gave him life. Of all of us, he can be considered the luckiest. He has friends, and he hasn't got to bear with the pain I have, or put up with a crowd that would call him "monster" behind his back.
Homura and Goku, both heretics by birth like me, both encased with chains and robbed of absolute freedom.
I look at my hands. Unchained, unmarred…and yet…
Now to me. I, Nataku, forever doomed to be Heaven's killing machine (?).
As I stand here on this cliff, surveying the gathering soldiers underneath me, I contemplate upon my own life, and how am I interrelated to Goku and Homura through the blood I've shed, tears I've cried and everything else I have suffered.
Unlike Homura and Goku who've had love from long ago, I have nothing of the sort. I am cold and alone, abused and not really knowing if I can manage once I am left to my own devices. My mother left me to the hands of the god who forced her, not really caring for her child except to have him separated from her because she thought him an abhorrence to the Nijuken clan whence they both came from.
Homura and Goku can feel emotions to their fullest. I cannot.
Seiten Taisei Son Goku, wanting those around him to be happy and doing all he can for them. He is protective of his friends. I envy him.
Homura, beloved of Rinrei and his friends. I envy him too. Does their love sustain him? Is it what makes him smile in spite of the fact that his true father, Tentei, ruler of Heaven himself, Almighty Creator, refuses to acknowledge his birthright?
Homura and Goku, both beautiful by the fact that they can love and feel.
Am I beautiful? Are these sweet words enough to console me when I know I am just making a fool out of myself, oblivious, forcing to turn away from the truth? When will I have the courage to admit that I am weak and I depend on those who surround me?
I cannot live without them–Death will be far better if they choose to desert me.
How shall I put it?
I cannot feel properly. What is outrageously funny to others can be very dull for me. In the other hand, what can be very funny to me can be offending to others. When anger surges through me, heating my blood, I am amazed that I can still contain it. I consider it as the most powerful emotion in me, shadowing all others.
Anger.
It might be the strongest emotion for all heretics. Homura has anger for his father and the whole damned heavenly public. Goku, angry at the gods who once tried to lock him in the mountain and leave him there to go insane, alone and friendless as the years passed.
Yet, in the light of things, there are still those who consider us Beautiful.
Homura, beautiful for his mismatched eyes and resemblance to Hou Mei of Ch'angan. Homura, beautiful because of his stout heart and unending courage. Homura, beautiful because of his enigmatic and (at times) childish personality.
Goku, beautiful because of the smile that can light up the world. Goku, beautiful because of his eternal innocence. Goku, beautiful because of the monster in him, restrained by the golden headband that can equal his eyes.
And then there's me…
Nataku, beautiful because of the blood on his hands. Nataku, beautiful because of his passion for killing. Nataku, beautiful because of his bitter silence and inability to free himself from the web of the title of Toushin Taishi. Nataku, beautiful because he's the Devil in the guise of a serene and graceful god.
Beautiful.
Nay, are we really?
I think not.
I think what makes us beautiful is the fact that we're not like them.
—The End—
