Moon doodles.
I've decided to take my koumie drabbles out of the dusty chest I keep under my interwebs.
they'll look nicer(ish?) here x3
And my waifu loves them ./////.
6/01/07
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Koumyou is twenty-four. Twenty-four and counting.
-------------------------------------------
"Hey,"
Koumyou (but that is not his real name, oh no) turned around and raised his eyebrows at the young woman.
"Hello."
"Looking for a good time?" The woman was a fair brunette, with round smooth shoulders, large child-bearing hips and breasts that stretched her tiny tank top. She must've been cold because he could see her nipples through the thin material. Her forearms were dotted with black heads.
"A good time? Ah...well, I was thinking about retiring to my home. Just, for a drink..."
"A drink, eh?" The woman leaned in, her lips puckered childishly. "Why go home so early?"
Koumyou shrugged. He thought the woman might have been a little drunk herself. Her heel itched at the ground.
"Want me to do you something good?" She murmured. "You wanna take me out?"
"Out where?" Koumyou asked, and she giggled.
"You know...wanna take me home?"
"I don't know where you live."
"YOUR home," She pouted, raising a brow. "You from out of town?"
"No, no, but I suppose many people have been pouring into the city lately." He smiled, and she smiled back, captivated by the soft lift of his lips.
"C'mon then...I'll treat you to something nice." Her voice dipped into honey.
"A drink?"
"Even better..." She leaned in, earrings winking in the dim light. "You wanna bj?" She whispered.
....Bj?
"Ah..." His brows furrowed. "I don't believe I've had one of those before."
"It's nice. I'll treat you real good." She giggled again. "Or I can always do the ol' swirl and dip."
"Is that a drink too?"
"No, it's a type of bj."
"Is a Bj a drink?"
"..........."
---A few moments later--
"Okay," The woman sighed, placing her hands on her hips.
"I wanna suck your dick."
Koumyou blinked.
"....Erm. May I ask why?"
"Because that's what I do! And I ain't got any money."
"Oh!" Koumyou laughed, good heartedly. "Well, you see....I'm broke too."
-----------
Goudai licked his chapped lips, glancing at the streetlight as he watched Koumyou approach.
"Find a map? Anyone with directions?"
Koumyou sighed, and Goudai blinked and leaned in reeeeeal close.
"...That a slap mark on your face?"
1/28/0-------
Priest Tensan Sanzo was a sight to behold. His stretched skin, ever flawless over the almost gleaming crown of his skull. The black snake-tail of hair, that whipped at his neck furiously whenever he walked, or stalked. The narrowed eyes that slanted over his vision, giving him an almost feline appearance when thoughtful. His robes that strapped towards his small body, the draped Maten sutra that adorned his shoulders. And the curved pointed ears that stretched out of that head, a symbol and a testament to his youkai blood. What he lacked in height he made up for in brutality, and one would often find him scowling at an uncertain change in wind, or the slightly opened shoji that brought in the spotless streaks of light.
Koumyou Sanzo could not see this.
As an aging teen brought under Tensan's care, Koumyou's quiet nature was to be watched. The serene sway in his steps perplexed Tensan to no end, but it was not to be taken lightly. When Tensan would speak, Koumyou would follow. When Tensan cursed, Koumyou prepared himself for any blame to be brought. He would be the model student, if it meant leaving this place soon.
But that would not be the case. Tensan narrowed his eyes, when nothing was to be judged. He would punish, when there was no need to be punished. Koumyou could not find it in himself to question the youkai priest, but he would rise to the dispassion, whenever it may be.
"Tensan-sama," It would take years for Tensan to remember this voice, now. "Why do you do the things you do? Why are you angry?"
Tensan's head wretched up, as if the boy were speaking from a far distance, but Koumyou knelt before him, only a few feet away.
"Why? Such questions, coming from you. You have served me well. But that is not what a Sanzo Priest does. You know this, hmm?"
"You are suppose to be teaching me. Training me." Koumyou's knuckles slid over his knees. "I don't understand."
"Teaching. That is what a ordinary Sanzo priest does. But, as you can see, I am not an ordinary Sanzo priest. I am above. Excelled. You could not understand this," There was a satisfied croak in his tone. "I was wondering, when you would bring this up. It has been months now."
"Several," Koumyou agreed, head still lowered.
"Yes. I was beginning to think that you liked being controlled. Or are you still bitter? To whom? Me?"
Koumyou's lips tightened. "Tensan-sama, I could not..."
"Idiot child!" Tensan was suddenly inches away, billowing, thundering; a storm behind the wooden door. "You are a human. You would know. Do you hate me?"
"Tensan-sama. Priest Tensan."
"Well? Fool!"
"No, I do not." Koumyou had not felt fear in years. Not until this moment.
"Hmph. Stand up."
Koumyou's body paused, but his mind hurried to follow the order. Slowly, he stood, now towering above his youkai master. Tensan took one step back, his expression stoic.
"Do you hate me?"
The teen hesitated. "Tensan-sama...?"
"You will be a Priest. You will equal to me. Surpass me. But you must free yourself. Release yourself. Hold nothing."
Koumyou was silent.
"Now I ask, one more time. Do you hate me?"
"No, Tensan-sama."
Koumyou didn't know what happened next. He felt nothing at that moment- no slap of pain or pulse of fear. But he didn't know what it was. He did not know what had just happened.
Then, he fell to his knees, palms on the ground. He stared wide-eyed as the bound in his hair slipped to the dirt, coiling slowly in silk. His mane unraveled slowly, veiling his shoulders and his face. He could heard small footsteps passing him, sated and content. As Tensan prepared to enter his room, his ears picked up the soft whisper, scattered somewhere in the afternoon breeze.
"I hate you."
And Tensan snorted, pleased for the first time in centuries.
1/6/08
When he goes outside, unfit and barely dressed, the first thing he notices is the chill of the air around his body, seeping into his robes. The clouds are spread apart, melting together slowly in the cool color of gray that has formed overnight. Everything seems brighter now. The rocks, the wood beneath his sandals, his own two hands. Everything is bright and quiet.
Koumyou Sanzo recalls a morning like this, many years ago. He was inside a small cheap inn, standing by the open window.
"Oh," He said, in a voice he can no longer remember. "Look, it might snow today. It's so cold." And then, he remembers someone beside him, with dark black hair.
"Mmhm." Both breasts pressed against his shoulder, the woman sighed. "Close the window. Snowy days always depress me."
"I wonder why that is."
Koumyou never did find out. She left earlier that afternoon, with his money, his belt, and his shoes.
He didn't mind. He didn't like that pair anyways. Walking across town bare-footed was a bit of a hassle, though.
"Ah! Koumyou-sama! Please, come inside. It's snowing."
When did that student sneak up behind him? And...when did it start snowing? Koumyou glanced up, and spotted the first few speckles of white falling over him. The chill in the air had vanished. All that was left was the cool breath of winter approaching once more.
One day, Tensan Sanzo said, 'Fast.'
And Koumyou did.
5/27/08
Day 1.
Koumyou sleeps in, and is woken by the sound of his own stomach. It grumbles and growls through lecture. It is murmuring with air and gas in the afternoon, and Koumyou drinks tea to quiet the beast down. When it stops snarling, he is content and takes a two-hour nap.
Day 2.
When Koumyou wakes up on the second day, he feels nothing. He goes through his duties like a ghost; quiet and wistful. He laughs with a few stumbling students, and feels as if he could take a nice walk through the forest. He almost does, until he realizes there are scriptures to be sorted through.
Day 3.
Koumyou stays in his room for the morning. He is reading, and writing, and speaking quietly to himself, and thumbing through books and scrolls and anything, anything to take his mind off the steaming smell of food that lingers at his door, like a tempting woman with her dress drawn upwards. The matsuri will last until dawn.
Day 4.
On the fourth day, Koumyou sneezes, and his whole body trembles with the intent of a heart-attack. When a student finds him on the floor, the boy says he will get help. Koumyou says, 'No.' and listens to the birds singing outside his window.
Day 5.
On the fifth day, Koumyou does not want to leave his bed. He gives out a quiet, melancholy sigh. He is empty. Everything inside of him is empty. The day is like a year twisted into sunsets and sunrises. For the first time in a long time, Koumyou wishes he were in love.
Day 6.
Koumyou sits outside, watching students work and tease and prove their worth. He stands up and walks into the garden. One curious student follows him, and is forever engrossed by the sight of the priest holding a pebble to his mouth, as if he was going to eat it.
Day 7.
On the seventh day, Koumyou is too weak to rise from his bed. He jokingly admits that he never liked waking up early, especially on warm days. After a small while, Koumyou no longer speaks, because he is too busy trying to sleep. The chaos in his stomach distracts him from doing so.
Day 8.
Koumyou stops drinking tea. He says it is a hassle to wake up in the middle of the night with the overwhelming urge to piss, without the strength to lift himself from the bed.
Day 9.
Koumyou's voice is much quieter. He sounds like he is straining to keep his bones from crushing his body. He says he feels like a sad animal. He drifts off to sleep in the afternoon, and does not wake.
Day 10.
Tensan Sanzo visits the Temple. He pushes his way past several students and rolls his way into Koumyou's room. Anxious disciples wait outside and hear nothing for the next five hours. When the shoji snaps open, Tensan is walking out in a flurry of robes. Koumyou follows behind him and greets every single weepy face in the room. After that, he turns to one student, and kindly asks for a cup of tea.
1/10/08
"Goudai, what is paradise to you?" A calm, visiting wind.
"Paradise?" The low hum of a mountain.
"Mmhm. What's it like, you think."
"Hn," Goudai lifted two heavy fingers to scratch thoughtfully at his chin. "Paradise. What am I suppose to say?" He glanced at the man beside him, who lied comfortably upon the cool wood, his fair head rested above his arms.
"I think it has to do with Nirvana. People who go there. The ultimate knowledge?"
Goudai gave a bear's snort. "Paradise. To me, it's a cool, summer afternoon like this one here. But, instead of you lying there, it's a beautiful girl in a two peice bikini. With D-cups."
Koumyou's tummy arched as he laughed. "Paradise would have you between her legs, then. Hm?"
"That would be it." And they both laughed, tickled by sake, freed by the tumbling winds that fell over the valley for that sunny afternoon.
1/4/08
____________________ The appearance of Mushi are often unpredictable, unexplained, and unnoticeable. They come and go as they please, whether they are seeking shelter or seeking other Mushi to interact with. Together in colonies, Mushi have been known to cause extraordinary phenomenons, as well as miracles, and calamities. Simple Mushi are often mistaken for ghosts, illusions, and demonic presences..... ______________
"Has anyone else been informed of this?"
"Only you and Senosuke-kun."
"The west garden, you say?"
"Yes, we saw it there."
"Alright. I will try and find the meaning of this.Where is Priest Sanzo?"
"I would imagine in his room, sir. It is nearly midnight."
"Yes, I'm sure. It is dark, this corner here....! What are you all doing!?"
The crowd of students faltered, like a swarm tumbled by wind. They all turned, watching as the Head Priest stomped his way towards them. "All of you! Back to your rooms!"
"But, Jurochi-sama! We want to know what it is too!" One student shouted. They all began to murmur, mindlessly, their young eyes drawn downward. Head Priest Juriochi tightened his lips together. Beyond the crowd, he saw it there, and he'd be damned if this thing threatened to take away the respect and authority of his title...!
"Enough! All of you, at once. Return to your beds. This matter will be handled soon--
"It's moving again!" Another student shrieked, and they all jerked back in a heavy motion of bodies and limbs. Some cried out, while others stared at the being as if it were already killing them. Jurochi's patience spent, he shoved the weaklings aside and made his way through the disciples with his jaw set and his eyes hardened. The boys watched as the Head Priest moved himself forward, toward the soft sprinkling light that had caught their attention from the very begining.
As Jurochi inspected the "creature", he found it was not a living thing at all. Well...it certainly didn't react, as he had expected.
It was perched above the highest limb of a tree. A simple blob of light that rested over the arm of the wooden surface, quiet and content. It seemed to be dripping, but every drop of light that threatened to fall simply floated away and vanished. It wasn't just a color of white, it was also blue, and purple, and violet, and white again. As constant as the tree itself, the light's attractive colors had no begining and no end. It was almost delightful.
"When we first saw it," Someone said, behind Jurochi. "it looked like it was...breathing. But now it does nothing but sit there."
"Head Priest, what is it? Is it of our world?"
"Of course not!" Jurochi spat, shoulder jerked. "What, this thing! It mocks us! Sitting here, as if it is not a crime! You are in my home! You insult me! You, and the grace of our Priest! Koumyou Sanzo!"
The blob made no acknowledgment of hearing. Or understanding, at that. Jurochi's lips pressed together again. "I see. You must be a youkai, then, of some kind. A trickster. The result of a wish gone wrong."
The students behind him inhaled and exhaled quietly. "We must be rid of it."
Jurochi then made a grand show of pulling back his sleeves. "I, Head Priest Jurochi, will see the end of this. I give you this last warning, beast. Be gone."
The blob bubbled silently, blue to red, pink to orange.
"Stand back," Jurochi growled, pressing both index fingers tightly against each other. "Now, you will!"
"Koumyou-sama!!"
The crowd broke through their stares and turned as they spotted the old priest approaching. Jurochi turned, withered eyes widening. "Ka...! Koumyou-sama! Please, stay back! This beast is unpredictable!"
"You mean," A voice said, in Koumyou's direction. "This, Mushi."
And the horror-strucken students watched as a man appeared behind Koumyou, sliding beside him. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with white hair and green eyes. Koumyou, pleasantly serene, glanced upwards. "Oh! Look at the colors!"
"Koumyou-sama...?"
"'Scuse me," The man inched his way through the others, brows furrowed. "Yes, thank you. Please. It is not a demon."
"Then?" Jurochi huffed, face pinched in anger. "Then, what is it!?"
The white-haired man smiled. "It's a mushi. Simply trying to keep cool in the shade of this impressive tree."
"A moo..."
The man then pulled a syringe from his pocket, and twirled the glass between his fingers. "Mushi. Little beings. Cute, sometimes." He whistled low, a high pitched sound that made Jurochi curl away from him. The blob rippled violently for a moment, shaking the limb of the tree as it did. Then, it was still, and it poured away from it's perch, swimming inside the very tip of the syringe.
The cylinder glowed now. Blue to green. Pink to white. "This particular Mushi likes to rest on trees. Sometimes, when they gather, it looks like the limb is burning. Some call it God's cigarette."
"Jurochi-sama," Koumyou said, suddenly at his side. Jurochi could not find it in himself to be startled. "This is Ginko. He is a Mushishi."
"Mushi.....shi..."
"Yeah," Ginko turned to Koumyou, grinning. "Is he always like this?"
"Not often..."
"Jurochi-sama? Are you alright..??"
He was. We were.
The tree and the Mountain.
Goudai hated dirt.
He hated squatting in it, laying in it, eating on it, sleeping on it, making little drawings and circles in it, shitting in it, walking on it, dragging in it, and a lot of other shit he was supposed to do in it.
Dirt is the horizon. The temporary ground in which you will live and strive on. That's what he said.
Fucking dirt.
It got in his nails and it sunk into his skin, creating little brown blotches underneath his ankles and on his toes. Sometimes it was really dry and sometimes it was nearly as soft as sand. Either way, he had come to hate it. So when Goudai trained or was forced to stand outside, he tried to stay away from dirt as much as possible.
'Course sometimes that's not always possible, but he wasn't going to be living on fucking dirt for the remainder of his life. So he grew.
He made himself grow, in mind and thought, where he could think higher than hills and think about things that never concerned dirt. And as he aged life itself began to carve him. Add on him. Strike him. Soothe him. Hardened him.
He became like a mountain. A tall, strong mountain. Hailed, and tall, and broad, and wise, even when cracked and burned. A strong mountain.
And dirt never bothered him again.
---6/8/07
_______________________
Koumyou Sanzo once heard of a philosophy that became a religion that became a rebellion that became something he must have forgot.
He didn't know what it was called but he remembered the ideal of it all and the teachings it preached while he was staying at that small sunburnt village.
We are the whole of everything. We are intelligence, and life, and death, and rebirth, and new birth, and sacrifice, and faith and we are all of it. The whole of everything is inside us. We have war inside us. Peace is inside us. Anger and love is inside us. It is together like wind and water. There are no boundaries, and no right and wrong. We are right and wrong. We are law and freedom and guilt and hate and wisdom. We are the books of knowledge- all of us. We read ourselves, page by page, until we are done with the book that is ourselves. Is it our great God who learns. It is He who does not teach, but is taught. It is He who learns but does not know. We are his knowledge and his purpose. He reads us, like a library filled with books, and we are all his. Everything of everything and nothing of everything is in us. We read ourselves, until we are spent, and there is nothing more to know or read. But our God reads every day, every year and there will never be a book short for him to read because humans, we, are born everyday. Our God is great and red, with blue solid eyes. He is the empty universe, and we must fill it with our everything.
The war is inside you. Everything is inside you.
And after reading the soft, crumpled scroll in his hands, he placed it to his side and stood into the quiet night, inhaling deeply and letting the moist air enter his peace and his war.
they'll look nicer(ish?) here x3
And my waifu loves them ./////.
6/01/07
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Koumyou is twenty-four. Twenty-four and counting.
-------------------------------------------
"Hey,"
Koumyou (but that is not his real name, oh no) turned around and raised his eyebrows at the young woman.
"Hello."
"Looking for a good time?" The woman was a fair brunette, with round smooth shoulders, large child-bearing hips and breasts that stretched her tiny tank top. She must've been cold because he could see her nipples through the thin material. Her forearms were dotted with black heads.
"A good time? Ah...well, I was thinking about retiring to my home. Just, for a drink..."
"A drink, eh?" The woman leaned in, her lips puckered childishly. "Why go home so early?"
Koumyou shrugged. He thought the woman might have been a little drunk herself. Her heel itched at the ground.
"Want me to do you something good?" She murmured. "You wanna take me out?"
"Out where?" Koumyou asked, and she giggled.
"You know...wanna take me home?"
"I don't know where you live."
"YOUR home," She pouted, raising a brow. "You from out of town?"
"No, no, but I suppose many people have been pouring into the city lately." He smiled, and she smiled back, captivated by the soft lift of his lips.
"C'mon then...I'll treat you to something nice." Her voice dipped into honey.
"A drink?"
"Even better..." She leaned in, earrings winking in the dim light. "You wanna bj?" She whispered.
....Bj?
"Ah..." His brows furrowed. "I don't believe I've had one of those before."
"It's nice. I'll treat you real good." She giggled again. "Or I can always do the ol' swirl and dip."
"Is that a drink too?"
"No, it's a type of bj."
"Is a Bj a drink?"
"..........."
---A few moments later--
"Okay," The woman sighed, placing her hands on her hips.
"I wanna suck your dick."
Koumyou blinked.
"....Erm. May I ask why?"
"Because that's what I do! And I ain't got any money."
"Oh!" Koumyou laughed, good heartedly. "Well, you see....I'm broke too."
-----------
Goudai licked his chapped lips, glancing at the streetlight as he watched Koumyou approach.
"Find a map? Anyone with directions?"
Koumyou sighed, and Goudai blinked and leaned in reeeeeal close.
"...That a slap mark on your face?"
1/28/0-------
Priest Tensan Sanzo was a sight to behold. His stretched skin, ever flawless over the almost gleaming crown of his skull. The black snake-tail of hair, that whipped at his neck furiously whenever he walked, or stalked. The narrowed eyes that slanted over his vision, giving him an almost feline appearance when thoughtful. His robes that strapped towards his small body, the draped Maten sutra that adorned his shoulders. And the curved pointed ears that stretched out of that head, a symbol and a testament to his youkai blood. What he lacked in height he made up for in brutality, and one would often find him scowling at an uncertain change in wind, or the slightly opened shoji that brought in the spotless streaks of light.
Koumyou Sanzo could not see this.
As an aging teen brought under Tensan's care, Koumyou's quiet nature was to be watched. The serene sway in his steps perplexed Tensan to no end, but it was not to be taken lightly. When Tensan would speak, Koumyou would follow. When Tensan cursed, Koumyou prepared himself for any blame to be brought. He would be the model student, if it meant leaving this place soon.
But that would not be the case. Tensan narrowed his eyes, when nothing was to be judged. He would punish, when there was no need to be punished. Koumyou could not find it in himself to question the youkai priest, but he would rise to the dispassion, whenever it may be.
"Tensan-sama," It would take years for Tensan to remember this voice, now. "Why do you do the things you do? Why are you angry?"
Tensan's head wretched up, as if the boy were speaking from a far distance, but Koumyou knelt before him, only a few feet away.
"Why? Such questions, coming from you. You have served me well. But that is not what a Sanzo Priest does. You know this, hmm?"
"You are suppose to be teaching me. Training me." Koumyou's knuckles slid over his knees. "I don't understand."
"Teaching. That is what a ordinary Sanzo priest does. But, as you can see, I am not an ordinary Sanzo priest. I am above. Excelled. You could not understand this," There was a satisfied croak in his tone. "I was wondering, when you would bring this up. It has been months now."
"Several," Koumyou agreed, head still lowered.
"Yes. I was beginning to think that you liked being controlled. Or are you still bitter? To whom? Me?"
Koumyou's lips tightened. "Tensan-sama, I could not..."
"Idiot child!" Tensan was suddenly inches away, billowing, thundering; a storm behind the wooden door. "You are a human. You would know. Do you hate me?"
"Tensan-sama. Priest Tensan."
"Well? Fool!"
"No, I do not." Koumyou had not felt fear in years. Not until this moment.
"Hmph. Stand up."
Koumyou's body paused, but his mind hurried to follow the order. Slowly, he stood, now towering above his youkai master. Tensan took one step back, his expression stoic.
"Do you hate me?"
The teen hesitated. "Tensan-sama...?"
"You will be a Priest. You will equal to me. Surpass me. But you must free yourself. Release yourself. Hold nothing."
Koumyou was silent.
"Now I ask, one more time. Do you hate me?"
"No, Tensan-sama."
Koumyou didn't know what happened next. He felt nothing at that moment- no slap of pain or pulse of fear. But he didn't know what it was. He did not know what had just happened.
Then, he fell to his knees, palms on the ground. He stared wide-eyed as the bound in his hair slipped to the dirt, coiling slowly in silk. His mane unraveled slowly, veiling his shoulders and his face. He could heard small footsteps passing him, sated and content. As Tensan prepared to enter his room, his ears picked up the soft whisper, scattered somewhere in the afternoon breeze.
"I hate you."
And Tensan snorted, pleased for the first time in centuries.
1/6/08
When he goes outside, unfit and barely dressed, the first thing he notices is the chill of the air around his body, seeping into his robes. The clouds are spread apart, melting together slowly in the cool color of gray that has formed overnight. Everything seems brighter now. The rocks, the wood beneath his sandals, his own two hands. Everything is bright and quiet.
Koumyou Sanzo recalls a morning like this, many years ago. He was inside a small cheap inn, standing by the open window.
"Oh," He said, in a voice he can no longer remember. "Look, it might snow today. It's so cold." And then, he remembers someone beside him, with dark black hair.
"Mmhm." Both breasts pressed against his shoulder, the woman sighed. "Close the window. Snowy days always depress me."
"I wonder why that is."
Koumyou never did find out. She left earlier that afternoon, with his money, his belt, and his shoes.
He didn't mind. He didn't like that pair anyways. Walking across town bare-footed was a bit of a hassle, though.
"Ah! Koumyou-sama! Please, come inside. It's snowing."
When did that student sneak up behind him? And...when did it start snowing? Koumyou glanced up, and spotted the first few speckles of white falling over him. The chill in the air had vanished. All that was left was the cool breath of winter approaching once more.
One day, Tensan Sanzo said, 'Fast.'
And Koumyou did.
5/27/08
Day 1.
Koumyou sleeps in, and is woken by the sound of his own stomach. It grumbles and growls through lecture. It is murmuring with air and gas in the afternoon, and Koumyou drinks tea to quiet the beast down. When it stops snarling, he is content and takes a two-hour nap.
Day 2.
When Koumyou wakes up on the second day, he feels nothing. He goes through his duties like a ghost; quiet and wistful. He laughs with a few stumbling students, and feels as if he could take a nice walk through the forest. He almost does, until he realizes there are scriptures to be sorted through.
Day 3.
Koumyou stays in his room for the morning. He is reading, and writing, and speaking quietly to himself, and thumbing through books and scrolls and anything, anything to take his mind off the steaming smell of food that lingers at his door, like a tempting woman with her dress drawn upwards. The matsuri will last until dawn.
Day 4.
On the fourth day, Koumyou sneezes, and his whole body trembles with the intent of a heart-attack. When a student finds him on the floor, the boy says he will get help. Koumyou says, 'No.' and listens to the birds singing outside his window.
Day 5.
On the fifth day, Koumyou does not want to leave his bed. He gives out a quiet, melancholy sigh. He is empty. Everything inside of him is empty. The day is like a year twisted into sunsets and sunrises. For the first time in a long time, Koumyou wishes he were in love.
Day 6.
Koumyou sits outside, watching students work and tease and prove their worth. He stands up and walks into the garden. One curious student follows him, and is forever engrossed by the sight of the priest holding a pebble to his mouth, as if he was going to eat it.
Day 7.
On the seventh day, Koumyou is too weak to rise from his bed. He jokingly admits that he never liked waking up early, especially on warm days. After a small while, Koumyou no longer speaks, because he is too busy trying to sleep. The chaos in his stomach distracts him from doing so.
Day 8.
Koumyou stops drinking tea. He says it is a hassle to wake up in the middle of the night with the overwhelming urge to piss, without the strength to lift himself from the bed.
Day 9.
Koumyou's voice is much quieter. He sounds like he is straining to keep his bones from crushing his body. He says he feels like a sad animal. He drifts off to sleep in the afternoon, and does not wake.
Day 10.
Tensan Sanzo visits the Temple. He pushes his way past several students and rolls his way into Koumyou's room. Anxious disciples wait outside and hear nothing for the next five hours. When the shoji snaps open, Tensan is walking out in a flurry of robes. Koumyou follows behind him and greets every single weepy face in the room. After that, he turns to one student, and kindly asks for a cup of tea.
1/10/08
"Goudai, what is paradise to you?" A calm, visiting wind.
"Paradise?" The low hum of a mountain.
"Mmhm. What's it like, you think."
"Hn," Goudai lifted two heavy fingers to scratch thoughtfully at his chin. "Paradise. What am I suppose to say?" He glanced at the man beside him, who lied comfortably upon the cool wood, his fair head rested above his arms.
"I think it has to do with Nirvana. People who go there. The ultimate knowledge?"
Goudai gave a bear's snort. "Paradise. To me, it's a cool, summer afternoon like this one here. But, instead of you lying there, it's a beautiful girl in a two peice bikini. With D-cups."
Koumyou's tummy arched as he laughed. "Paradise would have you between her legs, then. Hm?"
"That would be it." And they both laughed, tickled by sake, freed by the tumbling winds that fell over the valley for that sunny afternoon.
1/4/08
____________________ The appearance of Mushi are often unpredictable, unexplained, and unnoticeable. They come and go as they please, whether they are seeking shelter or seeking other Mushi to interact with. Together in colonies, Mushi have been known to cause extraordinary phenomenons, as well as miracles, and calamities. Simple Mushi are often mistaken for ghosts, illusions, and demonic presences..... ______________
"Has anyone else been informed of this?"
"Only you and Senosuke-kun."
"The west garden, you say?"
"Yes, we saw it there."
"Alright. I will try and find the meaning of this.Where is Priest Sanzo?"
"I would imagine in his room, sir. It is nearly midnight."
"Yes, I'm sure. It is dark, this corner here....! What are you all doing!?"
The crowd of students faltered, like a swarm tumbled by wind. They all turned, watching as the Head Priest stomped his way towards them. "All of you! Back to your rooms!"
"But, Jurochi-sama! We want to know what it is too!" One student shouted. They all began to murmur, mindlessly, their young eyes drawn downward. Head Priest Juriochi tightened his lips together. Beyond the crowd, he saw it there, and he'd be damned if this thing threatened to take away the respect and authority of his title...!
"Enough! All of you, at once. Return to your beds. This matter will be handled soon--
"It's moving again!" Another student shrieked, and they all jerked back in a heavy motion of bodies and limbs. Some cried out, while others stared at the being as if it were already killing them. Jurochi's patience spent, he shoved the weaklings aside and made his way through the disciples with his jaw set and his eyes hardened. The boys watched as the Head Priest moved himself forward, toward the soft sprinkling light that had caught their attention from the very begining.
As Jurochi inspected the "creature", he found it was not a living thing at all. Well...it certainly didn't react, as he had expected.
It was perched above the highest limb of a tree. A simple blob of light that rested over the arm of the wooden surface, quiet and content. It seemed to be dripping, but every drop of light that threatened to fall simply floated away and vanished. It wasn't just a color of white, it was also blue, and purple, and violet, and white again. As constant as the tree itself, the light's attractive colors had no begining and no end. It was almost delightful.
"When we first saw it," Someone said, behind Jurochi. "it looked like it was...breathing. But now it does nothing but sit there."
"Head Priest, what is it? Is it of our world?"
"Of course not!" Jurochi spat, shoulder jerked. "What, this thing! It mocks us! Sitting here, as if it is not a crime! You are in my home! You insult me! You, and the grace of our Priest! Koumyou Sanzo!"
The blob made no acknowledgment of hearing. Or understanding, at that. Jurochi's lips pressed together again. "I see. You must be a youkai, then, of some kind. A trickster. The result of a wish gone wrong."
The students behind him inhaled and exhaled quietly. "We must be rid of it."
Jurochi then made a grand show of pulling back his sleeves. "I, Head Priest Jurochi, will see the end of this. I give you this last warning, beast. Be gone."
The blob bubbled silently, blue to red, pink to orange.
"Stand back," Jurochi growled, pressing both index fingers tightly against each other. "Now, you will!"
"Koumyou-sama!!"
The crowd broke through their stares and turned as they spotted the old priest approaching. Jurochi turned, withered eyes widening. "Ka...! Koumyou-sama! Please, stay back! This beast is unpredictable!"
"You mean," A voice said, in Koumyou's direction. "This, Mushi."
And the horror-strucken students watched as a man appeared behind Koumyou, sliding beside him. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with white hair and green eyes. Koumyou, pleasantly serene, glanced upwards. "Oh! Look at the colors!"
"Koumyou-sama...?"
"'Scuse me," The man inched his way through the others, brows furrowed. "Yes, thank you. Please. It is not a demon."
"Then?" Jurochi huffed, face pinched in anger. "Then, what is it!?"
The white-haired man smiled. "It's a mushi. Simply trying to keep cool in the shade of this impressive tree."
"A moo..."
The man then pulled a syringe from his pocket, and twirled the glass between his fingers. "Mushi. Little beings. Cute, sometimes." He whistled low, a high pitched sound that made Jurochi curl away from him. The blob rippled violently for a moment, shaking the limb of the tree as it did. Then, it was still, and it poured away from it's perch, swimming inside the very tip of the syringe.
The cylinder glowed now. Blue to green. Pink to white. "This particular Mushi likes to rest on trees. Sometimes, when they gather, it looks like the limb is burning. Some call it God's cigarette."
"Jurochi-sama," Koumyou said, suddenly at his side. Jurochi could not find it in himself to be startled. "This is Ginko. He is a Mushishi."
"Mushi.....shi..."
"Yeah," Ginko turned to Koumyou, grinning. "Is he always like this?"
"Not often..."
"Jurochi-sama? Are you alright..??"
He was. We were.
The tree and the Mountain.
Goudai hated dirt.
He hated squatting in it, laying in it, eating on it, sleeping on it, making little drawings and circles in it, shitting in it, walking on it, dragging in it, and a lot of other shit he was supposed to do in it.
Dirt is the horizon. The temporary ground in which you will live and strive on. That's what he said.
Fucking dirt.
It got in his nails and it sunk into his skin, creating little brown blotches underneath his ankles and on his toes. Sometimes it was really dry and sometimes it was nearly as soft as sand. Either way, he had come to hate it. So when Goudai trained or was forced to stand outside, he tried to stay away from dirt as much as possible.
'Course sometimes that's not always possible, but he wasn't going to be living on fucking dirt for the remainder of his life. So he grew.
He made himself grow, in mind and thought, where he could think higher than hills and think about things that never concerned dirt. And as he aged life itself began to carve him. Add on him. Strike him. Soothe him. Hardened him.
He became like a mountain. A tall, strong mountain. Hailed, and tall, and broad, and wise, even when cracked and burned. A strong mountain.
And dirt never bothered him again.
---6/8/07
_______________________
Koumyou Sanzo once heard of a philosophy that became a religion that became a rebellion that became something he must have forgot.
He didn't know what it was called but he remembered the ideal of it all and the teachings it preached while he was staying at that small sunburnt village.
We are the whole of everything. We are intelligence, and life, and death, and rebirth, and new birth, and sacrifice, and faith and we are all of it. The whole of everything is inside us. We have war inside us. Peace is inside us. Anger and love is inside us. It is together like wind and water. There are no boundaries, and no right and wrong. We are right and wrong. We are law and freedom and guilt and hate and wisdom. We are the books of knowledge- all of us. We read ourselves, page by page, until we are done with the book that is ourselves. Is it our great God who learns. It is He who does not teach, but is taught. It is He who learns but does not know. We are his knowledge and his purpose. He reads us, like a library filled with books, and we are all his. Everything of everything and nothing of everything is in us. We read ourselves, until we are spent, and there is nothing more to know or read. But our God reads every day, every year and there will never be a book short for him to read because humans, we, are born everyday. Our God is great and red, with blue solid eyes. He is the empty universe, and we must fill it with our everything.
The war is inside you. Everything is inside you.
And after reading the soft, crumpled scroll in his hands, he placed it to his side and stood into the quiet night, inhaling deeply and letting the moist air enter his peace and his war.