Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Saiyuki doesn't belong to me. Lyrics by Fuel.

Author's Note: This was inspired late one night by the song 'Hemorrhage'. A little musing from one of the Saiyuki boys. (By the way, there is a set character that this is about, but you can pretty much choose who you want it to be)

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Fallout

Don't fall away

and leave me to myself

Don't fall away

and leave love bleeding in my hands

in my hands, again...

I think red might be my favorite color. If not, then I'm probably it's favorite person.

I know blood isn't the only red thing in the world, but it's the first thing I think of. I know the rain can't wash my red memories away, but I still let it try.

I glance at my hands briefly before washing them in the streambed again. And for a minute, I wonder what it would be like if I hadn't won this fight. If the blood on my hands were my own. I imagine my stomach being torn from me, my limbs severed, and my innards spilling helplessly to the ground. I imagine the feel of my life seeping away. My blood pools around me, softening my fall. The warmth of it clings to me, wanting to return. Its coppery taste fills my mouth. And so I die, drowning in a red sea. The deep red liquid wraps itself around me, pulling me down into hades. It no longer feels warm, but like ice. It continues to flow from my wounds, throbbing in time to a foreign heartbeat.

As I sink, my blood turns into needles and bony arms that prod me along a path of decaying flesh. Mutilated faces bite at my ankles with their small teeth, opening new holes for my blood to gush from. I see a jagged gate made from the bones of all who enter. And beside it, stands Death. It smiles; like you would to an old friend. In its black eyes I can see it say, 'Ah, there you are. We've been waiting.' Just as I see darkness and ruin pour forth from the gate, someone taps me on the shoulder. He says time to leave.

I guess I'll let my hands stay red for awhile. Blood doesn't bother me as much as it used to, and I'm still deciding whether that's a good thing or not.

He walks away, and I can see the blood he tried to wash from his hands. Then I wonder, what if he had been the one to die in his own blood?

That bothers me; To think of him slipping away.

And I'm still deciding whether that's a good thing or not.