Usual disclaimer applies…but this Shunrei and Hiroshi belong to me!
Thank you to all those who reviewed! I appreciate every single one! It's true that you don't write only for the reviews, but I do like to have some!!! Glad you enjoyed my previous chapters, hope you won't be disappointed by the next…. These were written while I was in a very depressing mood. So more sadness, more anxiety… oh… and more Goku too! ^_^ Why I was depressed?
1. Saiyuki is going to end soon 2. I only get to see till episode 50. 3. I'd just listened to "Alone" 4. Lots of other reasons which were not Saiyuki related ;-p
Just a small note: for those of you who haven't read the Ice maiden, Hiroshi is Shunrei's lover i.e. Sanzo's father. (well ok, his father according to my story!)
Chapter 3
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Shunrei
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"I've never seen violet eyes before," I said. Hiroshi smiled when he heard me speak. I turned my head away, slightly afraid. Usually I never started a conversation. But today felt…special.
We had spent the whole afternoon together that day, and I felt that sense of tranquillity which is only felt by those who are at peace with themselves and the world. Every minute spent in his company made me thankful to be alive.
"It's not a usual colour in fact," he replied, as he walked slowly to the river's edge. I leaned back as I watched him as he bent down to choose a pebble.
"Look at me! I'm going to hit that tree, on the other side of the river!" He was laughing like a boy, this man I had learnt to love. I wondered how long I could keep my feelings secret… I had no right to love him…
"I did it!" He came back, eyes shining with elation. I envied his ability to find pleasure in such simple things. We were so different. I was the younger, but he was the one who kept the innocence and joy of his childhood. Hiroshi sat down beside me, and his hand accidentally brushed mine. I felt a thrill of excitement and longed to catch his hand in mine, feel the touch of those long slender fingers against my skin.
Instead, I snatched my hand away and glared at him. "Don't touch me!" I made my voice harsh, to pay for my lapse before. He flinched at the tone of my voice. I could not bear to look into those beautiful eyes and see the expression of pain I had now come to know by heart. I had caused it too often.
We stood there silently for some time. I hated myself for braking the serenity which had previously reigned, but that was how it had to be. I could not let him know about my feelings towards him. I did not want to hurt him and to hurt myself.
His soft voice broke into my thoughts. "Few people are born with eyes like mine," he said reflectively, "The people in my village believed that it is the colour of sorrow…My father used to tell me that people like me were destined to be surrounded by misery and despair…" He passed his hand through his thick, black hair. He smiled, but his voice sounded sad. "He couldn't understand my having been born that way…"
I stared at him. Misery? Perhaps it was true…He had made me miserable, for I knew that mine was an impossible love. And yet, he also made me find happiness and warmth in a life which had been empty and cold.
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Who are you?" he repeated, jerking me back to my senses. I tried to maintain my composure, but it was hard with those violet eyes searching into mine, reminding me of my past.
It is impossible. I'm fooling myself…
"Shunrei," I finally made myself say. My voice sounded higher than usual, and I felt almost terrified.
"Shunrei?" He frowned at my words.
"I'm the high priestess of the temple. You were brought here, injured." I said, trying to sound cold and indifferent.
A hard task when your heart is beating so hard that you think everyone can hear it.
A hard task when a man who might be your son is there in front of you.
My son? Who said that he was my son? It was a coincidence. It had to be so. I looked at him and saw that his eyes were closed and that he was breathing rapidly. He had drifted back into a troubled sleep. I sighed in relief. Now that that piercing gaze was no longer fixed on my face, I could think rationally. I pulled up a chair by his bedside and collapsed into it. I attempted to steady my shaking hands and to try to regain hold of my senses.
Nonsense. You were just thinking about Hiroshi and your son and you jumped to conclusions when you saw those eyes.
But those eyes…
Hiroshi was not the only one around with amethyst eyes.
Golden hair, violet eyes, probably the same age as my son. What more proof could I want?
Do you want to get hurt? Imagining things which are not true? Do you want to break your heart when you realised that it was only a stupid dream?
Golden hair framed that thin face. His lips were slightly parted and his cheeks were flushed with fever. I searched for any resemblance in those delicate features, trying to find something which would make me know whether to hope or not. Perhaps that was why he was so familiar… he did look a little like me…
Stop it! You know you are willing yourself to find something similar. You're fooling yourself !
But…
No. He is not your son. Wake up. You will never see your son again.
Yes… you are right… he is not my son. It was just… a vain hope.
I bit my lip. I was an old fool. It would have been nothing short of a miracle if my son suddenly appeared on the doorstep of my temple. It was true, there was an uncanny familiarity in those features but nothing more. I hardened my heart, cursing myself for having been so weak so as to have believed in such folly. I clutched at the bowl in my hands and continued to clean his wounds. He winced, and a small cry escaped his lips. I paused. Somehow I could not bear the thought that I was hurting him, even though I had no reason to care.
I forced myself to continue, but at every lament or cry, I felt a thousand daggers stabbing my heart. "It will soon be over." I knew he could not hear, but I felt the need to comfort him.
~~~~~
I was tired. My head felt heavy on my shoulders, and I longed to rest. But I could not leave him to the care of another.
Foolish fantasies.
Perhaps. But I still could not leave. I rose suddenly, to keep myself from dozing off. My elbow caught the bowl on the table and it fell with a clatter. He shifted slightly, and his eyelids flickered. His eyes opened and his gaze fell on the chain of rosary beads which always hung on my robes. I waited for him to fall back asleep, but he seemed transfixed by the sight of those beads. I was impatient; he was a monk, surely he had seen such things before?
I stiffened as he reached out, and cautiously fingered my beads. "I had a chain like that," he said slowly. "But mine were red…"
I felt my heart beat faster.
Could he? Could they?
"Where did you get them from?" I felt breathless, and the suspense was choking me.
His hand dropped to his side, and he seemed to be about to drift back into sleep again. I felt as if I wanted to scream, to shake him by the shoulders and make him answer me.
"It was in the basket… but it got broken…" His eyes closed. The only sound in the room was that of his shallow breathing.
I placed it in the basket, together with the child, my lady, for protection…
He was my…
The door flew open as the golden eyed boy burst into the room. His eyes travelled to were Sanzo lay and he dashed to his side, pushing me aside. "I'm here. Sanzo, I'm here. Please wake up!" He dropped to his knees by the bed. His voice rose. "Sanzo? I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, please don't give up, It will be ok you'll see!" Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he begged the monk to get up, to forgive him for not being there… he talked incoherently, desperately looking for any kind of response.
Sanzo gave no answer… he only muttered incomprehensibly to himself while he tossed and turned. Suddenly, his eyes jerked wide open. I felt a shiver running down my spine at the empty expression in his eyes. It was as if he were staring through the boy, through me… he was delirious. His breathing grew more shallow and rapid, and coughs racked his body, and his shoulders shook. He tried to shift himself up, and as he did so, the blanket slipped slightly, and his chest was uncovered. The boy's eyes widened, as he took in the scene.
Eyes wild and unseeing. Face flushed with fever. Bandages soaked with blood.
The boy's expression changed from incredulity, to horror, to despair.
Sanzo fell back on the bed, still moaning.
"I'm sorry, couldn't stop him,…he's too strong…" Aiya was sobbing behind me. The two men were standing at the doorway, eyes fixed on Goku. The red head took a step forward.
"Goku…" his voice trailed away. The boy was shivering violently, eyes fixed on the monk.
"He promised he wouldn't leave me…" The words, all charged with pain came out in a hoarse whisper.
The two men moved towards him and the green eyed man knelt down beside him, "Goku, I think we'd better leave now," he said softly. The boy seemed dazed, and allowed the other to guide him out of the room. Before they left, he turned to face me. His golden eyes begged me to do something for his companion. I felt helpless. I could do nothing for him. Nothing.
His face was white and drawn. "He can't die. Not yet," he said, voice calm with despair. I could see my own pain reflected in those large eyes. I nodded to him slowly, and they lead him out of the room. The girl followed them, still sobbing.
I leaned on the wall, and I closed my eyes.
He is my son.
And he is fighting for his life.
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Sanzo: Is this the best you could do? It grows from bad to worse…
Konzen: *glares at him* I know. Thanks a lot.
Sanzo *smirking* You're welcome…