Sanzo, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Gojyo, and Goku dashed up the winding staircase that connected a perfect ground to a perfect tower that sheltered a mighty bronze bell; it hung from the rafters, hanging on a tightly sewn rope, just waiting to drop and extend a fatal hand to its observer from beneath. Every time the motley group took a lunge up each perfect step was not like an action or movement—it was like a breath, each step of the staircase was another memory, bursting through debris of thoughts and then the layer of dreams.

The door was already smashed, and there was no sign of the Creator anywhere within the widely lightened room. A blank canvas stood on the metal stand, across from a cushioned stool. The windows' shimmering light gave the walls a yellow tint upon the pale, cream-colored paint.

The girl with the midnight sky colored hair sat on the stool. The man with purple eyes and a soft expression stood behind her, hand on her shoulder, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. The girl was nervous, and it showed plainly through her pale skin and shining gray eyes.

"Are you ready?" asked Sanzo as he bent down and whispered into her perfect ear. Mitsuya shook her head "no".

"Good. Because if you were, something would be fucked up," Mitsuya grinned a small grin. She grabbed Sanzo's hand and squeezed it. Sanzo, never experiencing a woman's compassion or love before, didn't know how to react. Sanzo's teacher and master, Sanzo-houshi-sama, loved him like a son. A horrible psychotic man murdered him, and this situation with Mitsuya left Sanzo with a revolting sting of cruel irony and coincidence resting on his tongue. But this was a different love, different then any feeling Sanzo had ever experienced. In fact, love could be an inaccurate description for what the two felt. It was more like lust, desire, want, a need, a craving. Sanzo and Mitsuya were destined to be together, for love, death, anything; but together in the end.

"Mitsuya, you know what you need to paint, yes?" said Hakkai stepping into the room, gazing at the ominous bronze bell above him.

"A happy ending," she whispered, and Sanzo nodded to Hakkai's direction.

"Here we go," whispered Goku eagerly and Gojyo silenced him with an angry glare.

"Imagine a city," said Sanzo quietly, as all other mouths were shut and all others remained listening. Mitsuya shut her eyes and breathed deeply.

"A city, where the roofs are orange and silence soaks the land. The city's people are thriving and prosperous. The city is decked in flowers and bathed in sunlight…" Mitsuya dipped her brush carefully into a rich brown paint and began to place Sanzo's words on the canvas.

Minutes dragged by, as Sanzo continued to mutter into her ear and the blank canvas was transformed into a ravished piece of art. The canvas itself seemed to shine, as though lit from a flame. Blazing it was indeed, and it suddenly shot into flames. Mitsuya yelped and jumped back, knocking the stool over startling Sanzo.

"The painting, it just—" said Sanzo, as a look of worry came to face.

"Burst into flames…" whispered Mitsuya, "He's here," Mitsuya crumbled into Sanzo's arms as Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku ran to his side. They brandished their weapons as a voice echoed throughout the room, stirring fear beyond no other,

"Cornsilk's something isn't she?" laughed the voice as Sanzo calmly fired three bullets into the ceiling.

"Come out," said Sanzo quietly, "Show yourself, damnit!"

"DON'T FIRE BULLETS INTO MY CELING!" screeched the voice as the Creator, tall and menacing, descended from the rafters, his handsome face twisted into an ugly distortion. He was frowning furiously, his hands clenched at his sides. Somehow, strangely, the Creator was floating only a few inches above the carpeted floor. Mitsuya could sense a dark strength rising within his rotting soul, much darker (not eviler) then past events.

"Cornsilk…I'm so glad you're here, you're just the person I wanted to see," The Creator's mood switched rapidly as he grinned and offered a hand to help her up. Sanzo held his shoureiju and aimed dead center at the Creator's chest.

"You make one move and you can say goodbye, you sick and twisted idiot," The Creator laughed, his shoulders shaking.

"You think a little handgun scares me? Terrifying indeed…" The Creator snatched Mitsuya's arm and wrenched her toward him by surprise. She was limp in his hold, her back pinned to the Creator's chest. With the other hand, the Creator slowly stroked Mitsuya's smooth skin, toying with her like a puppet.

"Must you be so harsh to your host? What have I done to offend you, my good sirs?" asked the Creator with obvious false innocence.

"A lot of shit," said Goku, brandishing his weapon as Hakkai and Gojyo did the same.

"Let Mitsuya go--," said Hakkai

"HER NAME IS CORNSILK!" screeched the Creator. His voiced dropped to an angry whisper. "This is my dwelling and you shall refer to my painter as Cornsilk. I make the rules here," Mitsuya slowly opened her eyes, and smirked.

"But without me, you would have no control over the rules," she said dangerously. With that risky comment, the Creator's eyes widened, as they then grew dark and he clenched his teeth together.

"Sit down," he said lividly, pushing Mitsuya into the stool. She sat with no protest, as if transfixed again.

"No, Mitsuya—" started Sanzo as the Creator grinned at Sanzo, "You like my puppet, my china doll?"

Sanzo blushed furiously, eyes thinning.

"That's beside the point,"

"You like her, obviously, but do you love her?"

Silence.

"What do you mean, damnit?"

The Creator clapped his hands together and then picked the charred canvas that was recently painted. He seemed all to eager to explain.

"Please, do let me tell. You tried to paint a canvas to shape and fashion reality, hoping it would work because you loved Cornsilk. After failing, the painting burst into flames. Do you know why?"

Sanzo glanced at the floor.

"Because you obviously don't love her. Or perhaps your heart is to small and concealed and hidden away you couldn't love her even if you tried,"

"Sanzo, don't listen to him!" shouted Hakkai.

"Poor Sanzo…" the Creator laughed as tears welled in Sanzo's eyes, something that's never happened since he was a small boy,

"He wanted so much to help the woman he could've loved. To save her, to scare away the nasty man in her nightmare, to hold her and make sure everything's all right…" the Creator mocked

"Shut up, bastard…" whispered Sanzo dangerously, cocking his gun.

"Don't use those mean words, Sanzo. You don't know what trouble it could get you into,"

"Damn, why can't we just kill him Sanzo?" shouted Goku, raising his staff high above his head as Gojyo grabbed it tightly.

"Because, monkey, we can't attack his because he has the girl as a shield. You're a stupid chimp," said Gojyo matter-a-factly. Goku growled and stayed put, his feet planted.

"You are a stupid chimp, aren't you?" laughed the Creator, "Well, truthfully, you're not a chimp yet,"

"And what do you mean by that?!" shouted Goku.

"Perhaps Cornsilk can explain…" said the Creator gleefully as he whispered a few words into Mitsuya's ear. He stopped, her eyes widened. Something inside her wanted to fight the urge to pick up the brush and paint the grave scene pictured in the Creator's twisted mind. Two sides of her heart fought, and it showed through her eyes and skin as she twitched and cried and screamed. Two sides of her heart fought to control the other. And the wrong side won. Mitsuya stopped twitching, her eyes losing dialect, as she calmly picked a brush. The Creator gave her a new canvas from the air and she began to paint quickly and fiercely with a passion so raw and unbelievable. Slowly, Goku's shape began to change. He grew hair all over his body, and his screams (high pitched they already were) became meaningless screeches. Soon enough, he was an innocent chimp, dashing across the floor and up the walls and into the rafters.

"Goku, holy shit!" yelled Gojyo, dropping the staff as he and Hakkai chased after the screeching chimp. They were stopped in their tracks by the Creator's single finger flicking upward. They stood paralyzed in their exact positions, feet glued to the carpet, mouths open and faces frowning. It was a like a snapshot photo had caught them in action and clicked. The running motion was still intact and Hakkai and Gojyo's arms were still in front of them, trying to reach Goku the monkey.

"Such men with energy to chase after a monkey have to be calm, perhaps nailed to a wall to get them to slow down!" said the Creator, shaking his finger with dissatisfaction. With those fateful words, Hakkai and Gojyo moved once again. Only because of the rusted nails that now resided in their now bloody palms, dragging them back to the wall and trapping them there. They sunk as far as they could without ripping the metal out of their hands. Pain shot through their wrists and arms when unfrozen they became as Sanzo irately just watched the Creator's every move.

"Bastard," croaked Gojyo, barely supporting his own sagging weight.

"You're next in line, Sanzo. And the only woman who you ever tried to love is going to kill you,"