Categories > Anime/Manga > Saiyuki
A giggle.
Hey sensei, I met some new people today. Some new toys. They were pretty interesting; they really thought they could beat me. They couldn't though, sensei. They were weak, just like all my other toys. They left me though, ran away, and I was alone again. Why am I always alone?
He fumbles through the toys, seeming to be looking for something. His beads click together as he moves.
Except for when you found me, I wasn't alone then. You found me and took me in and taught me that everything was God's personal toy. I thought that you were God, you know that, sensei? When I first saw you, you were dressed all in white and shining. You wore a crown and a smile that knew everything. You were the only one who was nice to me. I thought you were God.
He picks up a rag doll, pets it absent-mindedly on the head before tossing it to the side. It lands next to an eternally smiling, china harlequin doll. He pauses to look at them, to laugh at the silly picture they made; an innocent rag doll next to the vaguely sinister harlequin.
You know what, sensei; a part of me still thinks you are God. You said that everything is God's personal plaything, and I know that I am yours. You play with me and others, for your own amusement, the way I play with my toys. You built this castle, and when the game ends, so do I. You have the power to control lives, like God does. I try to be like you, to be like God.
A glimpse of gold shines through the toys, and the not-quite-man dives to grab it. He pouts as he finds it to be merely a gilded chariot, but perhaps that could provide some amusement? Back and forth, back and forth the chariot goes, until that too, fails to bring him happiness and he tosses it to the side, not even bothering to watch as one of the wheels falls off, as the horse's tail breaks.
I got something new from them though, sensei. I got a sutra. Like the one you never gave me. Why didn't I get it, sensei? You gave me everything else. You gave me a castle, you gave me robes, you gave me a home, and a life. I suppose that the sutra was too much. Besides, I know that you only give me your throw-aways. I guess you weren't done with it.
Pushing away some dolls, he finds a hat with horns on either side. He looks at it, puzzled. A half memory surfaces. There were two boys, right? Two boys, and this belonged to them. His childish mind has already begun to forget them, but he knows that Mister Red has not. Frowning, he drops the hat.
Those two boys, they really thought I was God, didn't they? They believed until I killed them. Why is it that people get so attached to things? Mister Blondie was very attached to the sutra I took from him, but he wasn't worthy of it. The sutra is mine! It belonged to you! And you should have given it to me, but you didn't. I told him that he wasn't good enough for it, that he was weak. I told him 'Muichimotsu,' like you told me so many times. Hold nothing, and yet, as I look around, I see so many things that I hold dear. This castle you gave me is dear to me, because it reminds me of you. You gave it to me, and you led me out of the dark. Anything of yours is dear to me. You are special, because you are like God, and you will eventually dispose of me as you have all your other toys.
Laughing delightedly, he spies what he has been searching for. His golden crown, hidden under a stuffed bird. The bird is black, and seems to suck up all light, but he does not care. He smiles and places the golden crown upon his golden head, trying to find a mirrored surface he can preen in. Finding none, he pouts a bit and rubs his eye, thinking about the Sanzo who had been his master and savior.
I know you have more toys, sensei. Despite what you think, I am not stupid. I can tell that you are spending less time with me than before. I know that you are more interested in that Prince than you are the young boy you took in years ago. You have others to teach, others to rule over. I hope though, that you can remember to visit me before this all ends. I think it will end soon. The look in their eyes as they left was not like the others. The four of them will try again soon, if they don't die. Sensei, why do they have such an urge to live? I know that I had it, once. Lately though, things have got so boring. Is this what you feel like all the time? Like nothing you do will satisfy you? Is that why you have your toys? If they come back, I think that I can beat them, but at the same time, I don't know. I am so tired lately, sensei. I took that sutra, and my shoulders have hurt since then. Did you hurt too, sensei? Did you feel like you had the world's sin on your shoulders?
Readjusting the sutra around his shoulders and fixing the crown to a jaunty angle, he picks up a broken rabbit from the pile of toys around his ankles. He looks around, finds some fake glasses, and picks them up too. Putting them on, he wanders to the bedroom on the second floor; avoiding the traps he had set up in case of 'company.' Looking at the mirror and smiling broadly, he looks like a blonde, slightly grotesque version of the man he so admires, but he does not see that. Instead he sees black eyes and hair, a strong profile and the aura of one who knows what they were doing and who has the ability to control others knowledge of what they are doing. He doesn't see what others see, a immature, blonde, weak man who looks up to those who show him kindness, like a child. He doesn't see what he really as, a mere shadow of his master. He fixes the glasses upon his nose and smiles again.
Now I'm just like you, sensei.
Hey sensei, I met some new people today. Some new toys. They were pretty interesting; they really thought they could beat me. They couldn't though, sensei. They were weak, just like all my other toys. They left me though, ran away, and I was alone again. Why am I always alone?
He fumbles through the toys, seeming to be looking for something. His beads click together as he moves.
Except for when you found me, I wasn't alone then. You found me and took me in and taught me that everything was God's personal toy. I thought that you were God, you know that, sensei? When I first saw you, you were dressed all in white and shining. You wore a crown and a smile that knew everything. You were the only one who was nice to me. I thought you were God.
He picks up a rag doll, pets it absent-mindedly on the head before tossing it to the side. It lands next to an eternally smiling, china harlequin doll. He pauses to look at them, to laugh at the silly picture they made; an innocent rag doll next to the vaguely sinister harlequin.
You know what, sensei; a part of me still thinks you are God. You said that everything is God's personal plaything, and I know that I am yours. You play with me and others, for your own amusement, the way I play with my toys. You built this castle, and when the game ends, so do I. You have the power to control lives, like God does. I try to be like you, to be like God.
A glimpse of gold shines through the toys, and the not-quite-man dives to grab it. He pouts as he finds it to be merely a gilded chariot, but perhaps that could provide some amusement? Back and forth, back and forth the chariot goes, until that too, fails to bring him happiness and he tosses it to the side, not even bothering to watch as one of the wheels falls off, as the horse's tail breaks.
I got something new from them though, sensei. I got a sutra. Like the one you never gave me. Why didn't I get it, sensei? You gave me everything else. You gave me a castle, you gave me robes, you gave me a home, and a life. I suppose that the sutra was too much. Besides, I know that you only give me your throw-aways. I guess you weren't done with it.
Pushing away some dolls, he finds a hat with horns on either side. He looks at it, puzzled. A half memory surfaces. There were two boys, right? Two boys, and this belonged to them. His childish mind has already begun to forget them, but he knows that Mister Red has not. Frowning, he drops the hat.
Those two boys, they really thought I was God, didn't they? They believed until I killed them. Why is it that people get so attached to things? Mister Blondie was very attached to the sutra I took from him, but he wasn't worthy of it. The sutra is mine! It belonged to you! And you should have given it to me, but you didn't. I told him that he wasn't good enough for it, that he was weak. I told him 'Muichimotsu,' like you told me so many times. Hold nothing, and yet, as I look around, I see so many things that I hold dear. This castle you gave me is dear to me, because it reminds me of you. You gave it to me, and you led me out of the dark. Anything of yours is dear to me. You are special, because you are like God, and you will eventually dispose of me as you have all your other toys.
Laughing delightedly, he spies what he has been searching for. His golden crown, hidden under a stuffed bird. The bird is black, and seems to suck up all light, but he does not care. He smiles and places the golden crown upon his golden head, trying to find a mirrored surface he can preen in. Finding none, he pouts a bit and rubs his eye, thinking about the Sanzo who had been his master and savior.
I know you have more toys, sensei. Despite what you think, I am not stupid. I can tell that you are spending less time with me than before. I know that you are more interested in that Prince than you are the young boy you took in years ago. You have others to teach, others to rule over. I hope though, that you can remember to visit me before this all ends. I think it will end soon. The look in their eyes as they left was not like the others. The four of them will try again soon, if they don't die. Sensei, why do they have such an urge to live? I know that I had it, once. Lately though, things have got so boring. Is this what you feel like all the time? Like nothing you do will satisfy you? Is that why you have your toys? If they come back, I think that I can beat them, but at the same time, I don't know. I am so tired lately, sensei. I took that sutra, and my shoulders have hurt since then. Did you hurt too, sensei? Did you feel like you had the world's sin on your shoulders?
Readjusting the sutra around his shoulders and fixing the crown to a jaunty angle, he picks up a broken rabbit from the pile of toys around his ankles. He looks around, finds some fake glasses, and picks them up too. Putting them on, he wanders to the bedroom on the second floor; avoiding the traps he had set up in case of 'company.' Looking at the mirror and smiling broadly, he looks like a blonde, slightly grotesque version of the man he so admires, but he does not see that. Instead he sees black eyes and hair, a strong profile and the aura of one who knows what they were doing and who has the ability to control others knowledge of what they are doing. He doesn't see what others see, a immature, blonde, weak man who looks up to those who show him kindness, like a child. He doesn't see what he really as, a mere shadow of his master. He fixes the glasses upon his nose and smiles again.
Now I'm just like you, sensei.
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