Fic: Blind Destiny; 39
Well, in honor of Sanzo/Goku day. Barely in time, too. Since there hadn't been fic posted yet, I salvaged this from the bowels of my ancient, neglected computer. Enjoy! ^^
Title: Blind Destiny
Author: Bekquai
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, dark, violence, mentions of rape
Pairing: Faint 93
Notes: This was originally supposed to be the prologue for a much, much longer piece that never was finished. See post script if you're still lost at the end of it.
Summary: Kouryuu was tired, aching, thirsty, hungry, smeared with blood that mostly wasn't his, panicked, and getting desperate. And still that insistent voice in the back of his mind called to him.
Blind Destiny
The rocks on the mountainside cut into Kouryuu's feet - they'd never given him shoes in the years he'd been their captive, an attempt to discourage him from escaping as he had just two nights ago - but he continued running because they were on his trail, following the scent of blood. He sometimes thought he heard them shouting, the sounds echoing in his ears louder than his fearfully pounding heart and ragged breaths. He'd hoped the steep and rocky slope would discourage them, but he should have thought of the toll it'd take on him. After two nights and days running, only daring to sleep uneasily when he was too thoroughly exhausted to take another step, he was tired, aching, thirsty, hungry, smeared with blood that mostly wasn't his, panicked, and getting desperate.
And still that insistent voice in the back of his mind called to him, said he was getting close -
just a little farther, come on, come to me, let me out
- and it was maddening. He'd heard it off and on for years, certain that he was losing his sanity and almost glad of it. At least that way he wouldn't have to know what they were doing to him and how disgusting he'd become. But as the troupe of youkai bandits had drawn nearer to the foot of the mountain, the voice had come to him stronger, unrelenting and inevitable. It guided him.
He'd killed the leader. That was why they had the burning desire to hunt him down like an animal. He'd slit the huge youkai's filthy birthmarked neck when they were alone in the leader's tent, and he'd taken the sutras from where they were hidden in the leader's packs. He was lucky that they'd just been on a raid that day so everyone still reeked of blood, otherwise the scent would've brought the whole swarm of them right to him before he could even leave red, smudged fingerprints on the holy documents. His luck held, too, and he was able to sneak out of the camp unnoticed. And then he ran for all he was worth, ran until his unshod feet were raw and there was scarcely a breath of air in his lungs.
closer, closer, almost there
He followed the voice because he didn't have a better plan, and he figured he'd be dead in a little while anyway. Motivations held little importance at this point, when he was facing the threats of an angry mob of youkai on his tail, exposure, and starvation. Even if by some miracle - thought with a bitter smirk, for he knew better than to believe in miracles - he managed to evade them and get back to civilization, he didn't know what he planned to do. Return the scriptures? To whom? Everyone at the monastery was dead, had been for years. But he didn't know if he wanted to keep something that still had his master's blood on it. Those bastards never even tried to clean it and didn't know how to use it. They kept it as a perverse trophy.
He'd always had the impression that they'd stolen it for someone who'd never come to claim it, and that rendered the deaths of everyone so worthless. And he survived, which made him the most worthless. He was spared as just another prize, kept as a toy to be used and broken and fixed, a cycle he was by now far too familiar with and bore the scars of - the claw marks on his back, the shape of teeth on his shoulder from a youkai whose bite had snapped his collarbone, and innumerable bruises both fresh and faded.
so close
His blood-slicked feet slipped out from under him as he tried to edge around a jagged boulder, and he was falling, limbs windmilling and kicking up gravel and dirt. The noise and dust he raised signaled his position, and he cursed loudly as he landed with a thick thud on a thankfully stone-free and relatively flat outcropping. Before he could even get his head to stop swimming, he heard the shouts.
"He's up there!"
you're here
"You're here."
The voice... That time, it hadn't been in his head, had it?
He jerked into a sitting position and looked straight into feral, yellow eyes staring out at him from the shadows.
There was a cave there with stone bars across the mouth, and it was then that he noticed the fuda scattered everywhere. They were powerful, and so old he could feel the weight of the enchantment pressing down on his skin with almost suffocating force. Behind the bars, wreathed in shadow, there was a boy - no, a youkai - scrawny but about his age. The age of the binding fuda belied that appearance, though. The boy watched him intently, a small smirk on his face. He stuck a long-clawed hand through the bars, the shackle and chain on his wrist trailing and rattling.
"They're coming for you," the boy said. "Let me out and I'll protect you."
Kouryuu stared back, too shocked to think. It was so bizarre to see lips forming those words, a face to go with the voice he'd been hearing all these years. But there wasn't much time. He willed his brain to function, glancing over his shoulder towards the edge of the ledge, the shouts of the pursuing youkai ringing through the thin mountain air, threats and promises of what he could look forward to if they ever got their hands on him again. He looked back at the boy, whose hand was still outstretched. Dare he release this creature? It was obviously sealed away for a reason, but it was offering help. And even if he did turn out to be a monster, it was better than getting caught by the bandit youkai again. What other choice did he really have?
Decision made, he scrambled forward and grabbed the boy's hand just as the first of the bandits leapt up onto the ledge.
at last
The chains and bars melted away instantly, and he found himself pulled into the cave and flung against the rough wall. He fell to the ground and rolled onto his side. The boy was silhouetted against the sky in the mouth of the cave, the youkai beyond frozen in surprise.
"Who the hell is this kid?" one of them demanded.
"Get out of the way, brat! We're here to take back what's ours!" shouted another.
The boy gave a low chuckle, his eyes scanning he growing crowd of youkai.
it's been so long
There was something wedged into Kouryuu's back on the floor of the cave where he lay. He shifted and pulled it out from under him, hands on cool metal.
"Fuck it! Just kill him, too!" the first one decided and charged to attack.
...so long...
The boy reached out one hand as he dodged to the side, and as the youkai passed -
Kouryuu looked at the object in his hand uncomprehendingly, a half-circle of gold with jagged edges as if it'd been ripped apart.
- claws flashed quicker than the eye could follow and the bandit couldn't even scream in shock or pain because he didn't have a throat anymore.
The boy was laughing.
...so good...
Kouryuu watched with growing shock as the boy quickly began to dispatch the search party made of the toughest, most seasoned, armed youkai fighters with his bare hands. None of the youkai even got close to touching him, and Kouryuu had witnessed these men take down heavily guarded trade caravans with little effort. Already the boy was soaked in blood; his hands glittered red in the setting sun as the light caught on small, wet chunks of gore that clung to them. And he was beautiful, really, with his body of sinew and bone and long, wild hair swirling around him. He was laughing the entire time, an angry sound, derisive and cruel. But Kouryuu almost felt like laughing, too, seeing his captors, his tormentors, his rapists messily dismembered.
How do you like it? he thought with satisfaction, because if there was one thing he'd learned these past few years, it was to enjoy the moment because everything could change in a heartbeat. This time it'd changed in his favor, but who was to say that the boy he'd unleashed wouldn't turn on him as soon as there were no other targets? He'd been taught well - and most of the time harshly - that sometimes one would struggle as hard as one could, but it wouldn't make a difference. Sometimes all one could do was roll with the punches. And so he did, with an almost apathetic disregard because if there was no way to avoid it or fight it, one may as well take it without pointless sniveling and whining - or worse, praying. He did have his pride, after all.
He'd always had his pride. Even when he'd lived at the monastery, he hadn't prayed. He didn't put his faith in gods for they were unfaithful themselves, caring naught about the humans who worshipped them, and yet still demanding that worship. Koumyou hadn't minded his lack of faith, perhaps even encouraged it by teaching him this path, the way to nirvana that meant tearing down anything in the way. Koumyou had raised Kouryuu as his own child and a favored student despite the complaints of the other monks, and Kouryuu wondered why.
Even now, he was wondering what Koumyou had wanted him for that night, the night of the attack. He wondered if he'd just gotten there on time instead of letting himself be drawn into conversation with Shuuei, then maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe he could have protected his master. Maybe he could even have leapt in front of the fatal blow and at least bought some time for his master to prepare an attack or flee. The sutras would still be safe, then. Maybe most of the monks would still be alive, too, though he didn't really care much about them with their cold and jealous eyes and their pointed contempt.
There was a footstep near him and the sound snapped him out of his reverie. He pushed himself up on his arms and looked around rapidly. There, in the shadows to his right, a youkai creeping along so as not to attract the boy's attention. Kouryuu recognized him - the one who'd given him the teeth-marks on his shoulder between the joint and the base of his neck, large, ugly scars where soft, pale flesh had been mauled mercilessly. The youkai snarled when he saw Kouryuu move.
"I always knew you were trouble, you filthy, pathetic human," the youkai grit out and spat at Kouryuu. "I'd tell you that if you gave me the sutras then I'd spare your life, but I don't waste my time lying to scum. Pray to Buddha and maybe you'll be reincarnated as something strong enough to kill me-"
The youkai stopped advancing, pausing in his tirade with a strangled, gurgling sound. He let his gaze drop to his chest, from which protruded a razor-clawed hand, completely covered in blood. For a shocked moment, all the youkai could do was goggle helplessly until the hand withdrew and he fell to his knees. The boy stood behind him, smirking maliciously as the youkai coughed up blood.
"You... accursed...bastard," the bandit said before he gave another gurgling gasp and fell face-forward onto the cave floor.
The boy stood looking down at the corpse slowly leaking blood on the cave floor, his grin and eyes wild. He was dangerous like this. Kouryuu had stared down wild animals before; the trick was to avoid any quick or unnecessary movements, and right now he was almost not breathing to keep still enough. This boy had taken out the entire search party of fifteen youkai in a matter of minutes and acted like it was fun, and the look in his eyes was a mix between ecstasy and bloodlust. Finally, the boy shifted to meet Kouryuu's regard and a spark of sanity showed on his face again. The slightly deranged smile faded but did not disappear entirely as he stepped over the body and knelt in front of Kouryuu, who resisted the strong urge to shy away.
"You... you finally came," the boy said, reaching forward and brushing slick fingers across Kouryuu's face, leaving wet, red trails that cooled almost instantly. "I've been waiting for such a long time."
It was sheer willpower that kept him from flinching at the copper-scented caress. Somehow, he managed to get it together enough to respond, "I can see that. Who are you? How long have you been... waiting?"
"Oh, about five hundred years," the boy said, his eyes never leaving Kouryuu's for a second. His hand slipped lower, curling around the back of Kouryuu's neck and ruffling the thick blond hair, making it vaguely sticky. Kouryuu could not help the shiver, though he didn't know if it was from fear or... something else. "You're still the same as I remember you, Konzen."
Kouryuu stared. Five hundred years? How did he survive that long? What was that name he called him? Why did it sound familiar?
The boy saw his blank look and reluctantly dropped his hand. Kouryuu breathed easier.
"You don't remember me, though. I guess I should've thought of that," the boy said. "I am Seiten Taisei Son Goku. Since you're you, though, I'll let you call me Goku. And if you're not Konzen anymore, what should I call you?"
"Kouryuu," he said, managing to find his voice again. "I'm Kouryuu."
Goku seemed to think this over. Finally, he said, "It's a good name for you. Pretty." He paused and stood, his impressive mane of tangled brown hair swishing around him. "I'm hungry. Do you know where we can get some food?"
Kouryuu thought of the bandits' camp and eyed Goku's hands with the blood only now drying upon them.
"Yeah."
END
Post script: H'okay. So, for those who are going "WFT? Seiten Taisei can't TALK!" I was going to establish a few things in the longer, multichaptered fic that I never wrote about the relationship between Goku, Seiten Taisei, and the power-limiting diadem.
1) When Goku was put into the prison, the limiter was left on to help control him. Unfortunately, Goku eventually remembered what happened in Heaven so long ago. The force of the emotion split his limiter, and he became Seiten Taisei.
2) The emotions were so strong that even Seiten Taisei felt them and struggled to remember. Over the centuries of imprisonment, Seiten Taisei gained a measure of feral sanity. Thus he did not rip Kouryuu apart. *coughs*
3) The power limiter also inhibited Goku's natural aging process. Without it, Seiten Taisei grew up more in prison than Goku would have.
Anwyay. Yeah. Most of you don't care. I just am anal-rentive enough to want to explain stuff like this. ^^;; Thanks for reading!
Title: Blind Destiny
Author: Bekquai
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, dark, violence, mentions of rape
Pairing: Faint 93
Notes: This was originally supposed to be the prologue for a much, much longer piece that never was finished. See post script if you're still lost at the end of it.
Summary: Kouryuu was tired, aching, thirsty, hungry, smeared with blood that mostly wasn't his, panicked, and getting desperate. And still that insistent voice in the back of his mind called to him.
Blind Destiny
The rocks on the mountainside cut into Kouryuu's feet - they'd never given him shoes in the years he'd been their captive, an attempt to discourage him from escaping as he had just two nights ago - but he continued running because they were on his trail, following the scent of blood. He sometimes thought he heard them shouting, the sounds echoing in his ears louder than his fearfully pounding heart and ragged breaths. He'd hoped the steep and rocky slope would discourage them, but he should have thought of the toll it'd take on him. After two nights and days running, only daring to sleep uneasily when he was too thoroughly exhausted to take another step, he was tired, aching, thirsty, hungry, smeared with blood that mostly wasn't his, panicked, and getting desperate.
And still that insistent voice in the back of his mind called to him, said he was getting close -
just a little farther, come on, come to me, let me out
- and it was maddening. He'd heard it off and on for years, certain that he was losing his sanity and almost glad of it. At least that way he wouldn't have to know what they were doing to him and how disgusting he'd become. But as the troupe of youkai bandits had drawn nearer to the foot of the mountain, the voice had come to him stronger, unrelenting and inevitable. It guided him.
He'd killed the leader. That was why they had the burning desire to hunt him down like an animal. He'd slit the huge youkai's filthy birthmarked neck when they were alone in the leader's tent, and he'd taken the sutras from where they were hidden in the leader's packs. He was lucky that they'd just been on a raid that day so everyone still reeked of blood, otherwise the scent would've brought the whole swarm of them right to him before he could even leave red, smudged fingerprints on the holy documents. His luck held, too, and he was able to sneak out of the camp unnoticed. And then he ran for all he was worth, ran until his unshod feet were raw and there was scarcely a breath of air in his lungs.
closer, closer, almost there
He followed the voice because he didn't have a better plan, and he figured he'd be dead in a little while anyway. Motivations held little importance at this point, when he was facing the threats of an angry mob of youkai on his tail, exposure, and starvation. Even if by some miracle - thought with a bitter smirk, for he knew better than to believe in miracles - he managed to evade them and get back to civilization, he didn't know what he planned to do. Return the scriptures? To whom? Everyone at the monastery was dead, had been for years. But he didn't know if he wanted to keep something that still had his master's blood on it. Those bastards never even tried to clean it and didn't know how to use it. They kept it as a perverse trophy.
He'd always had the impression that they'd stolen it for someone who'd never come to claim it, and that rendered the deaths of everyone so worthless. And he survived, which made him the most worthless. He was spared as just another prize, kept as a toy to be used and broken and fixed, a cycle he was by now far too familiar with and bore the scars of - the claw marks on his back, the shape of teeth on his shoulder from a youkai whose bite had snapped his collarbone, and innumerable bruises both fresh and faded.
so close
His blood-slicked feet slipped out from under him as he tried to edge around a jagged boulder, and he was falling, limbs windmilling and kicking up gravel and dirt. The noise and dust he raised signaled his position, and he cursed loudly as he landed with a thick thud on a thankfully stone-free and relatively flat outcropping. Before he could even get his head to stop swimming, he heard the shouts.
"He's up there!"
you're here
"You're here."
The voice... That time, it hadn't been in his head, had it?
He jerked into a sitting position and looked straight into feral, yellow eyes staring out at him from the shadows.
There was a cave there with stone bars across the mouth, and it was then that he noticed the fuda scattered everywhere. They were powerful, and so old he could feel the weight of the enchantment pressing down on his skin with almost suffocating force. Behind the bars, wreathed in shadow, there was a boy - no, a youkai - scrawny but about his age. The age of the binding fuda belied that appearance, though. The boy watched him intently, a small smirk on his face. He stuck a long-clawed hand through the bars, the shackle and chain on his wrist trailing and rattling.
"They're coming for you," the boy said. "Let me out and I'll protect you."
Kouryuu stared back, too shocked to think. It was so bizarre to see lips forming those words, a face to go with the voice he'd been hearing all these years. But there wasn't much time. He willed his brain to function, glancing over his shoulder towards the edge of the ledge, the shouts of the pursuing youkai ringing through the thin mountain air, threats and promises of what he could look forward to if they ever got their hands on him again. He looked back at the boy, whose hand was still outstretched. Dare he release this creature? It was obviously sealed away for a reason, but it was offering help. And even if he did turn out to be a monster, it was better than getting caught by the bandit youkai again. What other choice did he really have?
Decision made, he scrambled forward and grabbed the boy's hand just as the first of the bandits leapt up onto the ledge.
at last
The chains and bars melted away instantly, and he found himself pulled into the cave and flung against the rough wall. He fell to the ground and rolled onto his side. The boy was silhouetted against the sky in the mouth of the cave, the youkai beyond frozen in surprise.
"Who the hell is this kid?" one of them demanded.
"Get out of the way, brat! We're here to take back what's ours!" shouted another.
The boy gave a low chuckle, his eyes scanning he growing crowd of youkai.
it's been so long
There was something wedged into Kouryuu's back on the floor of the cave where he lay. He shifted and pulled it out from under him, hands on cool metal.
"Fuck it! Just kill him, too!" the first one decided and charged to attack.
...so long...
The boy reached out one hand as he dodged to the side, and as the youkai passed -
Kouryuu looked at the object in his hand uncomprehendingly, a half-circle of gold with jagged edges as if it'd been ripped apart.
- claws flashed quicker than the eye could follow and the bandit couldn't even scream in shock or pain because he didn't have a throat anymore.
The boy was laughing.
...so good...
Kouryuu watched with growing shock as the boy quickly began to dispatch the search party made of the toughest, most seasoned, armed youkai fighters with his bare hands. None of the youkai even got close to touching him, and Kouryuu had witnessed these men take down heavily guarded trade caravans with little effort. Already the boy was soaked in blood; his hands glittered red in the setting sun as the light caught on small, wet chunks of gore that clung to them. And he was beautiful, really, with his body of sinew and bone and long, wild hair swirling around him. He was laughing the entire time, an angry sound, derisive and cruel. But Kouryuu almost felt like laughing, too, seeing his captors, his tormentors, his rapists messily dismembered.
How do you like it? he thought with satisfaction, because if there was one thing he'd learned these past few years, it was to enjoy the moment because everything could change in a heartbeat. This time it'd changed in his favor, but who was to say that the boy he'd unleashed wouldn't turn on him as soon as there were no other targets? He'd been taught well - and most of the time harshly - that sometimes one would struggle as hard as one could, but it wouldn't make a difference. Sometimes all one could do was roll with the punches. And so he did, with an almost apathetic disregard because if there was no way to avoid it or fight it, one may as well take it without pointless sniveling and whining - or worse, praying. He did have his pride, after all.
He'd always had his pride. Even when he'd lived at the monastery, he hadn't prayed. He didn't put his faith in gods for they were unfaithful themselves, caring naught about the humans who worshipped them, and yet still demanding that worship. Koumyou hadn't minded his lack of faith, perhaps even encouraged it by teaching him this path, the way to nirvana that meant tearing down anything in the way. Koumyou had raised Kouryuu as his own child and a favored student despite the complaints of the other monks, and Kouryuu wondered why.
Even now, he was wondering what Koumyou had wanted him for that night, the night of the attack. He wondered if he'd just gotten there on time instead of letting himself be drawn into conversation with Shuuei, then maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe he could have protected his master. Maybe he could even have leapt in front of the fatal blow and at least bought some time for his master to prepare an attack or flee. The sutras would still be safe, then. Maybe most of the monks would still be alive, too, though he didn't really care much about them with their cold and jealous eyes and their pointed contempt.
There was a footstep near him and the sound snapped him out of his reverie. He pushed himself up on his arms and looked around rapidly. There, in the shadows to his right, a youkai creeping along so as not to attract the boy's attention. Kouryuu recognized him - the one who'd given him the teeth-marks on his shoulder between the joint and the base of his neck, large, ugly scars where soft, pale flesh had been mauled mercilessly. The youkai snarled when he saw Kouryuu move.
"I always knew you were trouble, you filthy, pathetic human," the youkai grit out and spat at Kouryuu. "I'd tell you that if you gave me the sutras then I'd spare your life, but I don't waste my time lying to scum. Pray to Buddha and maybe you'll be reincarnated as something strong enough to kill me-"
The youkai stopped advancing, pausing in his tirade with a strangled, gurgling sound. He let his gaze drop to his chest, from which protruded a razor-clawed hand, completely covered in blood. For a shocked moment, all the youkai could do was goggle helplessly until the hand withdrew and he fell to his knees. The boy stood behind him, smirking maliciously as the youkai coughed up blood.
"You... accursed...bastard," the bandit said before he gave another gurgling gasp and fell face-forward onto the cave floor.
The boy stood looking down at the corpse slowly leaking blood on the cave floor, his grin and eyes wild. He was dangerous like this. Kouryuu had stared down wild animals before; the trick was to avoid any quick or unnecessary movements, and right now he was almost not breathing to keep still enough. This boy had taken out the entire search party of fifteen youkai in a matter of minutes and acted like it was fun, and the look in his eyes was a mix between ecstasy and bloodlust. Finally, the boy shifted to meet Kouryuu's regard and a spark of sanity showed on his face again. The slightly deranged smile faded but did not disappear entirely as he stepped over the body and knelt in front of Kouryuu, who resisted the strong urge to shy away.
"You... you finally came," the boy said, reaching forward and brushing slick fingers across Kouryuu's face, leaving wet, red trails that cooled almost instantly. "I've been waiting for such a long time."
It was sheer willpower that kept him from flinching at the copper-scented caress. Somehow, he managed to get it together enough to respond, "I can see that. Who are you? How long have you been... waiting?"
"Oh, about five hundred years," the boy said, his eyes never leaving Kouryuu's for a second. His hand slipped lower, curling around the back of Kouryuu's neck and ruffling the thick blond hair, making it vaguely sticky. Kouryuu could not help the shiver, though he didn't know if it was from fear or... something else. "You're still the same as I remember you, Konzen."
Kouryuu stared. Five hundred years? How did he survive that long? What was that name he called him? Why did it sound familiar?
The boy saw his blank look and reluctantly dropped his hand. Kouryuu breathed easier.
"You don't remember me, though. I guess I should've thought of that," the boy said. "I am Seiten Taisei Son Goku. Since you're you, though, I'll let you call me Goku. And if you're not Konzen anymore, what should I call you?"
"Kouryuu," he said, managing to find his voice again. "I'm Kouryuu."
Goku seemed to think this over. Finally, he said, "It's a good name for you. Pretty." He paused and stood, his impressive mane of tangled brown hair swishing around him. "I'm hungry. Do you know where we can get some food?"
Kouryuu thought of the bandits' camp and eyed Goku's hands with the blood only now drying upon them.
"Yeah."
END
Post script: H'okay. So, for those who are going "WFT? Seiten Taisei can't TALK!" I was going to establish a few things in the longer, multichaptered fic that I never wrote about the relationship between Goku, Seiten Taisei, and the power-limiting diadem.
1) When Goku was put into the prison, the limiter was left on to help control him. Unfortunately, Goku eventually remembered what happened in Heaven so long ago. The force of the emotion split his limiter, and he became Seiten Taisei.
2) The emotions were so strong that even Seiten Taisei felt them and struggled to remember. Over the centuries of imprisonment, Seiten Taisei gained a measure of feral sanity. Thus he did not rip Kouryuu apart. *coughs*
3) The power limiter also inhibited Goku's natural aging process. Without it, Seiten Taisei grew up more in prison than Goku would have.
Anwyay. Yeah. Most of you don't care. I just am anal-rentive enough to want to explain stuff like this. ^^;; Thanks for reading!