Challenge 62: Hakkai-centric; PG-13
Title: Alternative
Author: winged_sandals
Warnings: Worksafe
Characters/Pairings: Hakkai, Sanzo, Goku, Gojyo; squint-and-miss 85
Summary: Rambley Hakkai introspective from somewhere in the middle of Be There
Notes: Challenge 62 "Blood". Time allowed: 30 minutes. Time taken: 36 minutes. Concrit welcome~
At first, the prosthetic hurt.
My eye-- the socket, I should say--was still raw and scarred, and the glass irritated it. It hurt to have something so cold and solid in a place that had once been empty. Sometimes the flesh reopened, and I would bleed around the glass eye, staining it red. I would blink and find blood on my eyelashes, blood falling into my lap like tears. I don’t know when it was that I last cried water.
It still happens sometimes, like a nosebleed. I’ll dab a handkerchief over the eye and apologize if I’m in company. (If the company are monks, they make the most amusing faces. They must think I’m possessed by something.)
When he first gave me the eye, Sanzo also gave me a monocle. At first, I assumed it was out of that odd sort of kindness Sanzo has. A consideration: it would be nice to hide that eye behind something, even just a piece of glass.
I had not expected to be able to see through it. I don’t know how the prosthetic works. Sanzo never explained it to me. But I can see with it, only just. It’s mind-boggling.
Without the monocle, the world through my right eye is warped. It swims. It isn’t quite the same as my eyesight used to be before my Transformation. I always needed glasses, even as a boy.
The moment I became a youkai was the moment my eyesight cleared. Ironically enough. It cleared, and then I blinded myself again. Maybe I saw too clearly was the thing. But I’m thinking too much again, aren’t I?
Goku says the monocle looks stylish.
Of anyone’s presence at this temple, Goku’s is the most refreshing. In some ways he can be tiring--where does he find all of that energy?--but in other ways he’s like a shot of caffeine. When I need to wake up, I talk to Goku.
Sanzo’s is a much quieter presence. You know, I still don’t entirely understand that man. He’s an odd sort. I think maybe we have that in common. There’s something calming but also unnerving about the way he speaks to me at times. If I’ve been brooding over something, trying to figure it out, he has a tendency to summarize it and answer all of my questions in one blunt--and not especially polite--comment. He’s a good person for bouncing back ideas. It‘s the off-kilter Genjyo Sanzo brand of wisdom.
Oh, but if he were without his faults, I don’t think he’d quite be Sanzo.
I like it here. But, you know, I’ve never fit very well in temples.
Gojyo. I think about him sometimes. About his nook in the woods and the smell of his cigarettes. They smelled awful.
His hair reminded me of blood. How melodramatic! I’m glad he didn’t laugh at me. We should have laughed, both of us.
But… Well, we were both fools, I suppose.
Are. I don’t think I ever stopped.
“Jacks of all trades and masters of none.” That’s what he called us. That’s what we are. The two of us.
On second thought, maybe there is a “were” in there somewhere…
There are gardens sprinkled about the temple. I like to walk through them in the afternoons, and sometimes I’ll spot the red poppies and, instead of blood, I think of Gojyo.
Author: winged_sandals
Warnings: Worksafe
Characters/Pairings: Hakkai, Sanzo, Goku, Gojyo; squint-and-miss 85
Summary: Rambley Hakkai introspective from somewhere in the middle of Be There
Notes: Challenge 62 "Blood". Time allowed: 30 minutes. Time taken: 36 minutes. Concrit welcome~
At first, the prosthetic hurt.
My eye-- the socket, I should say--was still raw and scarred, and the glass irritated it. It hurt to have something so cold and solid in a place that had once been empty. Sometimes the flesh reopened, and I would bleed around the glass eye, staining it red. I would blink and find blood on my eyelashes, blood falling into my lap like tears. I don’t know when it was that I last cried water.
It still happens sometimes, like a nosebleed. I’ll dab a handkerchief over the eye and apologize if I’m in company. (If the company are monks, they make the most amusing faces. They must think I’m possessed by something.)
When he first gave me the eye, Sanzo also gave me a monocle. At first, I assumed it was out of that odd sort of kindness Sanzo has. A consideration: it would be nice to hide that eye behind something, even just a piece of glass.
I had not expected to be able to see through it. I don’t know how the prosthetic works. Sanzo never explained it to me. But I can see with it, only just. It’s mind-boggling.
Without the monocle, the world through my right eye is warped. It swims. It isn’t quite the same as my eyesight used to be before my Transformation. I always needed glasses, even as a boy.
The moment I became a youkai was the moment my eyesight cleared. Ironically enough. It cleared, and then I blinded myself again. Maybe I saw too clearly was the thing. But I’m thinking too much again, aren’t I?
Goku says the monocle looks stylish.
Of anyone’s presence at this temple, Goku’s is the most refreshing. In some ways he can be tiring--where does he find all of that energy?--but in other ways he’s like a shot of caffeine. When I need to wake up, I talk to Goku.
Sanzo’s is a much quieter presence. You know, I still don’t entirely understand that man. He’s an odd sort. I think maybe we have that in common. There’s something calming but also unnerving about the way he speaks to me at times. If I’ve been brooding over something, trying to figure it out, he has a tendency to summarize it and answer all of my questions in one blunt--and not especially polite--comment. He’s a good person for bouncing back ideas. It‘s the off-kilter Genjyo Sanzo brand of wisdom.
Oh, but if he were without his faults, I don’t think he’d quite be Sanzo.
I like it here. But, you know, I’ve never fit very well in temples.
Gojyo. I think about him sometimes. About his nook in the woods and the smell of his cigarettes. They smelled awful.
His hair reminded me of blood. How melodramatic! I’m glad he didn’t laugh at me. We should have laughed, both of us.
But… Well, we were both fools, I suppose.
Are. I don’t think I ever stopped.
“Jacks of all trades and masters of none.” That’s what he called us. That’s what we are. The two of us.
On second thought, maybe there is a “were” in there somewhere…
There are gardens sprinkled about the temple. I like to walk through them in the afternoons, and sometimes I’ll spot the red poppies and, instead of blood, I think of Gojyo.