A puppet on strings is a wooden figure, carved, painted and adorned with silks and pearls and feathers. The strings attach to the wrists, head, legs and feet. The strings tie of to a wooden cross of some sort to make the puppet move and dance. A puppet is used to entertain and delight, to satisfy, to use and abuse at the makers will. But what any normal puppeteer couldn't spot is that puppets are quite diverse; in such ways humans can be puppets too…not actually human, not all puppet. But like Pinocchio, many puppets can be rebellious. And then again, some stay silent…
It all depends on who holds the strings. Mitsuya was a puppet, her wooden limbs weighing her down and the strings tied tightly. Her fleshy heart within debris of tree was still beating though, because a heart is never truly gone or dead…no matter who twists it and bends it.
"Bastard…" whispered Gojyo as he struggled to maintain his position. Blood dripped down his wrists and arms like melted butter, soaking his skin and staining his clothing. The Creator just stood and watched and laughed. Hakkai sagged as well, clenching his teeth and wincing.
You could hardly say Sanzo was trying to help, but in truth, there was nothing he could do. They were up against a madman, controlling everything around them that would stop at nothing to murder the Sanzo party.
"You're next in line, Sanzo. And the only woman you ever tried to love is going to kill you,"
Sanzo frowned, raising his gun. He fired two shots to the Creator's belly as the bullets plummeted through his body. Leaving no trace of any wound, he laughed again. Harder.
"Did you honestly think that with all the power I have, two bullets could bring me down? My my, we are in need of some new lessons…Cornsilk, paint me a picture, please?"
No reply, just blank, heartless staring.
"A picture…madness, saturating every drop of paint. Give me a vision, give me a death of a certain someone standing before you and I. Give me shards of glass…penetrate his body, rip his robes and slice his skin…" Every word echoed through the tower.
Mitsuya dipped her brush into a deep brown paint. She placed on the canvas and stroked gracefully, and then began to move her wrist in a circular motion. Then white paint. More circles.
Sanzo just stared.
"Run, Sanzo…Just run, there's nothing you can do," whispered Hakkai, as the nails stretched his palm wretchedly. Hakkai dropped to the ground, his hands useless and his mind and heart in worse shape. Gojyo dropped as well. The nails fell harmlessly to the floor beside them.
Immediately in a blinding orchestra of sound and Technicolor, a roar of shearing light, the windows of the tower shattered and began to rise from the floor. In a simple movement, they became a swirl, a whirlpool of window fragments. Very sharp window fragments.
Creator smirked.
Sanzo looked down and clenched his teeth.
A small, unrecognizable tear fell from Mitsuya's cheek. Like a glistening diamond to a porcelain mask.
"Your painting serves as my weapon, Cornsilk, and now show me his fate! Give me Sanzo, dead and filled with glass…"
"Mitsuya, don't—"
"Be quiet, your words mean nothing! She can't hear you!"
"Damn you and your paintings!"
"Silence! You are a waste of pathetic human life! Cornsilk doesn't love you, she loves me!"
Sanzo quieted his voice, crossed his arms and smiled.
"So this is what its all about, then?" Sanzo laughed.
"What are you saying!" the Creator whispered dangerously.
"The only reason you want me dead, is because you want Mitsuya to love you. So you kidnap her, rape her, posses her, and then you expect Mitsuya to except your so-called 'love' and love you back!"
A vein pulsed in the Creator's forehead as he clamped a hand down on Mitsuya's feeble shoulder.
"Kill him already, just do it—"
"This isn't love, idiot, and it never will be!"
"BE QUIET! SHE LOVES ME! YOU JUST DON'T KNOW LOVE! Your heart is too small!"
Sanzo laughed another laugh.
"Mitsuya," he said simply, "I love you,"
Silence. The glass started to ascend more and dance in a faster circular motion. Sanzo's eyes widened as he yelled, louder this time, "I love you, Mitsuya!"
Another tear fell from her blank eyes.
Sanzo reached in his robes and grabbed his shoureiju, and fired across the room to the wall with the paintings just as the glass began to charge, so to speak…
The glass dropped and shattered at Sanzo's feet.
The Creator screamed an inhuman wail.
"You…how could you stop—"
The Creator turned his head to Mitsuya and it dawned on him. He gazed at the a certain painting (on the floor, of course) that had been shot by Sanzo, at the moment when the glass almost hit him. The Creator walked to the painting. It was a simple one, the first masterpiece. There was a girl with midnight sky colored hair, sitting at an ornate fountain, with a tall man beside her. The Creator glared at Sanzo, grasping the painting with shaking hands.
"How did you know which painting to shoot!", he croaked. There was a bullet hole right where the tall man's head had been.
"If Mitsuya could paint and her art would alter and twist everything and everyone around her, then the equal logic would be to destroy the paintings. The opposite reaction happens, and the paintings are reversed. Look at your precious painter. Look what a simple bullet can do,"
At those words, Mitsuya's eyes had dialect and her cheeks became rosy. All hell loosened the grip on her soul and mind her eyes shined with tears. Those tears, those diamonds, shining clear as glass run down her face like dancing a ballroom tango. They plummet and fall and redden her face and moisten her lips. The salty sting brings Mitsuya the memoirs of an ocean.
"Sanzo!" She whispered hoarsely and desperately, throwing the painting to the ground in an abrupt motion, spilling the paints on the floor and staining the carpet.
"WHAT DOES EVERYONE HAVE AGAINST MY CARPET!" screamed the Creator, grasping Mitsuya's wrist and wrenching it stalwartly. There was a sick cracking sound as she shrieked and grasped her hand softly in pain, melting to the ground in a clump.
Sanzo growled and aimed his gun again at more paintings.
"Don't you dare fire, or—"BANG!
Sanzo smirked as another canvas fell to the floor. It was a picture of children. Lots of smiling tots. A chill ran down Sanzo's spine as a small bullet hole filled the space where a head of a tall, dark man used to be.
"My painting…" gasped The Creator as Mitsuya struggled with her broken limb. The Creator kicked her as she whimpered softly. Sanzo twisted his pinky in her ear.
"I WILL KILL YOU, SANZO!" screamed the Creator, and bent low and jolted off like a rocket toward him. With an outstretched arm, he reached for Sanzo's neck but Sanzo simply stepped out of the way and fired to more bullets. More canvases fell with snap! as the Creator stumbled and stopped in front of Hakkai and Gojyo's bodies.
"That's interesting," Sanzo remarked, reloading the gun, "Looks like you screw up every time you lose a painting. I think I'll play a game. How many paintings can I destroy before you die?"
"No—" croaked the Creator, standing up and brandishing a fist.
"I have a gun and you a hand. Charming," said Sanzo, firing three bullets. Quietly, everything around the three began to change. The sun became brighter. The carpet faded. Mitsuya's figure began to change, her hands, delicate and soft became bruised and rough. Her clothing, comfortable and stylish, turned to gray and brown wool. Her lips plumped, her skin scratched and hurt. The sounds of people, happy people, filled the gloomy aura. Bullets penetrated the air like fire and ice, paintings fell, and surroundings morphed. Goku's screams quieted and he was human once again. Gojyo and Hakkai's wounds were gradually healed, as they lethargically got back up. The Creator, though, was twitching, crying, groping his face with his nails, falling to the ground and hurting inside and out.
"Please…just kill me!" the Creator bellowed from the darkest crevasses of his rugged heart.
"With pleasure, I assure you," said Sanzo carefully shutting one eye and aiming not toward the cowering creature resting on the beaten carpet, but the fragile and brittle cord latched to the tip of the bell.
"Sanzo, don't!—" Mitsuya shrieked abruptly, raising a quick hand as if to stop the blow from the bell, but alas no dice. A simple hand could not stop the fate bestowed upon her twisted muse. The brass bell fell from the rafters with a crash, and falling upon The Creator, but didn't create any hole in the wooden floor. The impact was immediate, but he didn't die in a matter of seconds, no, he was suffering. Pain shot threw his back and paralyzed his spine, so close to death and on the edge of oblivion.
"Why?" he asked hollowly, his voice echoing of the walls of the imperfect tower, "One simple request, and you failed to shoot a bullet through my head. One simple shot…just one…" He coughed, blood spilled on to the floor as Mitsuya slowly approached the Creator. She sat, and cradled his head and back in her arms and whispering softly, "You were my inspiration, my perfection…"
The Creator gazed back at her with blank eyes as his lids began to close.
"My painter…you were always perfect. You never needed me. Paint again, Mitsuya, forget The Creator. Live with your savior, your violet eyed and golden haired reassurance,"
"No, I can't just let you die. You are perfect, perfect in my eyes,"
"You could never love me,"
"Just rest…"
And with that, his eyes shut and his breathing ceased and she cried. She cried as Sanzo slowly put away his gun.
"Why did you kill him? Why couldn't you have just let him live, damnit!" Mitsuya jumped up, and with a fiery rage, she pushed Sanzo as he stumbled and yelled,
"What is the matter you? He fucking raped you, tortured you, almost killed my friends, and you're sorry he's dead!"
"He LOVED ME, Sanzo! "
"I LOVE you, Mitsuya! Are you saying you actually, forget loving, forget adoring, considered him to be at the level of your respect? After what I did you save you, how I risked my god damn life, you're telling me you want him back!"
"No! Sanzo, we had a connection"
"What!"
Mitsuya glared horribly. "Sanzo," she started simply, "You don't love me. You don't know me,"
Sanzo shook with anger. "You fucking owe me for saving your life!"
"HAVE YOU EVER HAD SOMEONE WHO LOVED YOU DIE, SANZO?"
Silence.
"The fact of the matter is, Sanzo, I don't love him, and I don't love you. I didn't like him, I never will. But when you have someone who loved you die, it's different. Perhaps you just don't understand!"
Sanzo shut his eyes in aggravation.
"I understand," he growled, "Something like this happened when I was very young,"
"Is that why you're so bitter? Because you couldn't stop fate?"
"Don't call it fate," said Hakkai slowly, interjecting in the argument.
"Stay out of this," snarled Mitsuya, crossing her arms in defiance.
"Fate didn't take the ones we love, it was all bad timing," said Gojyo, standing at Hakkai's side.
"I never experienced love in my life, Sanzo. I didn't have a family. But when HE showed up, I didn't care what happened. He loved me, he actually adored me. That counts for something,"
"What about me, Mitsuya? I guess my 'love' doesn't 'count' for much!"
Mitsuya stamped her foot annoyance, "You don't love me, damnit! You loved Cornsilk, perfect and beautiful and silent Cornsilk. You never knew ME, and I won't give you the chance!"
"Why not?"
"Can we go?" shouted Goku in the midst of all the angst.
"Yes, Sanzo, let's get out of this tower. Hakuryuu is probably well. We could continue West, forget all of this," said Hakkai as Gojyo and Goku walked to the doorframe.
"Fine," he hissed, "Let's get out of here, for fuck's sake. I'm tired and I need a smoke,"
Mitsuya stared in amazement.
"Go," she said, pointing irately to the stairs. "Just get the hell away from me. I don't need you or your friends,"
"Don't make the same mistake I did, Mitsuya. Don't shut everyone away,"
"GO," she said, crying.
"I will," said Sanzo, walking irritably unhurriedly, watching the tears run from her face.
