Disclaimer: Saiyuki doesn't belong to me, but to Minekura and all parties associated. I don't get money for this at all. (As if anyone would pay for it...)
A/N: Another one shot angsty!Goku piece (456 words). I really love Goku angst. It's so refreshing from everyone else's angst (at least for me). Cry your hearts out.
By the way...I really seem to have a thing for celestial bodies, hm? The sun, the moon... well I can't help. What with Goku repeatedly calling Sanzo his sun... shrug
By the way, I did a little doodle of a part of this fic... nothing special, but I'd be very pleased if you checked it out... g Here's the link, just copy paste it to your browser if it doesn't work... --> Moon Was Red
That night the moon was full, and red.
Red like his hands. Red like his heart. Red like the deeds he'd done. Red like the fierce passion that had swamped him when he'd lost control...when his limiter had broken.
Goku howled up at the sky, a sob choking his scream midway. He was so lonely; there was no one left for him...because he'd killed them all.
It had happened during one of the many demon attacks. Sanzo had been hurt, as usual. He'd gone frantic with worry, as usual. And when he was held back from reaching Sanzo, he'd gone berserk, as usual. Only this time, no one was able to stop him.
Correction: Someone had been able to stop him, but by then it was too late. All he remembered was waking up on top of Sanzo's dead body, covered with blood.
He'd dragged his friends' bodies 'til they were side by side, and stayed close to them for several days, just lying down near them. Maybe if he'd waited long enough, they would've gotten up and laughed and told him it was all a joke....
He gave up when the stench of rotting meat made him nauseous. Numbly, he dug three graves, and buried them. Then, unable to deal with it anymore, he wandered off aimlessly.
He hardly ate, but he wasn't hungry. He could still taste the remains of blood in his mouth; he'd probably licked it off of his claws. Dried blood was caked underneath his nails, and his clothes were torn and dirty. But he didn't care.
He was alone. It was just him and the darkness. There was nothing else.
He'd vaguely remembered feeling this way before, and before he knew it he was standing atop of a rock covered with wards and chains. This place had called to him, and he had returned home.
He screamed up at the moon once more, a moon that couldn't shine pure white anymore because the sun was dead, a moon that was covered with red, murky clouds that taunted him. He'd killed the sun....
Goku fled from the rock when he heard people coming to investigate the noise. He fled and ran, ran deep into the mountains and curled up in a cave, resigned to waiting. They'd come back. They had to.
The moon shone down upon him, drenching him in loneliness, reminding him of the void inside.
He turned his back to the bars so he wouldn't have to face the night sky outside and that moon. Turned his back and curled up into a little, sad, tired ball as he sobbed, hating the world outside.
Because though the moon was red, like him, it was full, and he was empty.