Title: Anchor.
Author/Artist: GuardianYugi/Carolyn Steven/WhiteAsh
Warnings: Rated G.
Pairing(s): Koumyou Sanzo and Kouryuu.
Notes: While reading the manga, I discovered Koumyou Sanzo didn't like the rain either. I decided to expand on it, and then this story was born.
I don't know why I woke up that night. It was calm; for once in my life I was sleeping peacefully.
I don't know why I awoke.
Kouryuu opened his eyes, a tremor in his heart and sweat on his brow. He thought, no, he knew something was wrong. Getting out of his bed and leaving his room, the ten year old apprentice of Koumyou Sanzo walked down the corridor to his Master's chambers.
I heard something from inside my master's chambers. Strained breath, groans. I was frightened for my master's safety so I entered without thinking. He was struggling in his sleep, his usually calm face twisted with what looked like pain and fear. I hurried to his side and clutched his arm, shaking him.
"Master!" I shouted at him. He opened his eyes wide, in shock and for a moment, terror reminiscent of his nightmare.
"Kouryuu..." he spoke my name, as he always did when I was flustered. I sighed; hearing how he spoke my name, it flowed like silk as it rolled off of his tongue. All he said was my name and I felt much calmer. "What's wrong?"
"You were having a nightmare, master." I spoke the obvious, my meaning was a direct question. My master had other plans rather than answering it though.
"Ah." He nodded, then smiled. The smile was one that told me he was going to simply shrug off the nightmare and move on. I felt envy rising within me. My Master could easily shake off whatever trouble came his way! He often reminded me of my inability to let things go. I often had to repeat myself to get him to answer at all.
"Master, what happened? Why were you so terrified? What was your nightmare of?" I knew I'd asked too many questions when he turned to look at me. At first, his face was stoic, emotionless... then I saw the pause. He was debating whether or not to divulge a secret to me. A look into his nightmare. He smiled, and I knew it was useless.
"Kouryuu..." Saying my name like that... I just wanted to help him. "It's over now. It's no longer important. It holds no power over either of us and is best left forgotten."
"But, Master! You were afraid!" I couldn't believe he could simply ignore that! He put his hand on mine and I realized I was still clutching tightly to his arm out of concern.
"A nightmare is something directed at our weary minds, Kouryuu. A man controlled by the fear of his nightmares can never move on. A nightmare can do no harm to you. Know this and be strong." He said this often. Be strong. "Ah, it's raining."
I couldn't believe that. The sky had been as clear as crystal when I'd last checked... that is... until just a moment after the words left my master's mouth. The soft pitter-pat of rain drops against the window soon escalated into a torrent. How did he know? My master had so many mysteries . . .
"Master... the rain will let up soon." I reassure him whenever it rains, as always. He tends to grow distant, stoic, and unresponsive. Even now, I could see his face and how old and tired he looked in those moments of unrest.
"The rain is a necessity for life..." He told me things like this often. I knew that plants needed the rain, but whenever my master repeated it to me, I would listen with polite attention... also because... even the most common things seemed new to me after he explained them. "The rain in excess also brings death. Do you know what this means, Kouryuu?"
"Even though the rain brings life to some, it brings death to others. Good things can still be bad if used improperly." I recited my answer from memory, having told it to him before. He blinked, then smiled and nodded. It was his method of changing the subject. This time, however, I wouldn't back down.
"Master . . . why don't you like the rain?" I finally managed to ask him this question . . . and at first, he looked uncertain. . . then he answered, slowly.
"Perhaps, to me, it is a reminder of an anchor." His voice was soft, unsure. I hated it when he sounded unsure of himself... it made him look much older and more tired then I'd care to believe he was. He was my Father and Master. He was strong.
"An anchor, Master?" I was puzzled. This was a new one.
"An anchor, Kouryuu." There he was, mentioning my name again, hinting at me to go back to bed. I wouldn't. I stood defiant and looked into his eyes. He smiled and continued, "Think of it in this respect. If I was the happiest man on earth, my anchor would be mortality."
I... didn't understand at all. I sighed. He sat up in his bed, as he'd been lying down, and gestured for me to sit beside him. I did so, the creaking of the bed as I sat down was the only noise in the room to be heard aside from the rain against the window.
"Even if a man has no troubles he can think of and is able to live a completely happy life... he will still die, Kouryuu. This is the one trouble that he has, the one anchor, that will forever root him in reality. He knows he is mortal, and this is his only trouble." So this is what he meant. I struggled to understand how this related to my Master.
"I don't understand what this has to do with me or you, Master." I admitted this with some reluctance. He chuckled, then got to his feet, the blanket falling away from him, revealing his slender shoulders and long, flowing hair. He normally wore it in a long, tight braid... but a braid is useless at night, and I was granted a rare sight in seeing it freed of its usual bonds. I then realized I was staring, and he'd noticed. He smiled, as was his custom, and ignored it, continuing with his teaching.
"Kouryuu, what do you suppose your anchor is?" He sat down on the window sill, looking out at the rain.
"My anchor?" I didn't know. I had absolutely no idea.
"Kouryuu," He was doing it again! "Think of what I've told you, then you will know your answer."
I thought. If the only thing that troubles the happiest man in the world is death, then that's because he knows that he won't be able to continue living his happy life anymore. But I don't care about death, it happens to everyone. My Master interrupted my thoughts.
"Kouryuu, an anchor is not always a bad thing. For, you see... even death itself has two lights. It can be seen as a dark, terrible thing; something painful and terrifying... but for the old, sick, and weary, death can be seen as something of glorious light and freedom. Do you understand?" I did understand.
"Yes, Master." I began thinking it through again.
"An anchor keeps you from drifting too far into the ethereal, Kouryuu. Despite the path to Enlightenment, one must always realize that there are certain things that keep us rooted to reality. Something that calls us back when our minds threaten to wander too far. It is always there, deep inside, and you can never forget it..." He produced a wooden pipe from behind his back. He must have picked it up off of his bedside table as his nightclothes were a simple gown-like robe and had no pockets... at least, none I could see. He added, softly, "Even if you wish at times that you could forget."
Again, I ran through what I knew. Something to keep me rooted in reality. Something that calls me back when my soul is wandering. Something I can never forget. Something...
And then it hit me. The children throwing rocks at me, calling me the River Orphan Kouryuu, the stares from the other monks, the accusation of being similar to a Rasetsu... they all lead me back to one thought. The one who didn't care what my name was. The one who gave up part of his life to raise me. The one who protected me when I felt I was weak. I looked to my Master and blinked; he'd been looking at me.
"Now you understand, Kouryuu." He said this to me slowly, but his voice and expression seemed slightly disheartened. Had he known all along?
"Master-" I still didn't know what his anchor was. He turned and gave me a smile that usually meant he was going to say something stupid to ruin the mood and to embarrass me.
"You should go to bed, Kouryuu. If you stay up late and end up getting wet in the rain then you'll catch a cold and you'll be cranky tomorrow." I blushed. How could he go from teacher to child in so little time?
"I won't catch a cold." I felt like screaming at him to be serious for once. He began to speak again, and this time it wasn't lighthearted at all.
"Kouryuu," He sounded sad. I didn't understand why he sounded like this, so I listened and hoped he would explain. "A time will come when your anchor will try to do more than keep you rooted in reality. There will be a time when your anchor will begin dragging you deeper into yourself. At that time, you must remember my other teaching."
"Hold Nothing." I sighed; this teaching meant so much to my Master, but I barely understood it. Why teach me of anchors if I'm supposed to hold nothing close?
"Now it's time for you to go to sleep." He was finished with me. I could tell from the slight change in his tone of voice that it would be best to listen. As I turned to leave his room, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned slowly to face my Master. "Kouryuu. My anchor is very similar to yours. This is why I have said to you that an anchor can be both light and dark depending on how one sees it."
He patted my head then returned to his bedside, lifting the covers and settling back down under them. I left his room quietly, my feet slapped against the ground as I ran back to my room. The rain was blowing and I ended up getting a bit wet. As I returned to my room I thought about my Master's words.
An anchor similar to mine. I knew what my anchor was. If his was similar to mine, then...
I smiled as I got back into my bed and looked up at the ceiling. I knew what his anchor was and the thought both pleased and worried me, as he'd mentioned seeing it in two lights... but soon, I grew tired and I felt my eyelids closing of their own device.
I had a cold the next day and I was extremely cranky, but at least he was there beside me, making sure that I had at least one person I could grumble to who would always be there for me.
"And even when he wasn't there anymore..." Genjo Sanzo bit the end of his pencil in thought as he looked out into the rain. He touched the pencil to the paper once more and wrote, "He would always be in my heart... rooting me in reality."
owari