Life and Death, Sanzo, G
Title: Life and Death
Author: Kubaru Suki
Prompt: #4, Opposites
Time: 23:32
Notes: Though I don't respond to each comment left, please know that I cherish every one of them and they never fail to make me go 'eee!' and flail a little bit.
Life and Death
There is a boy running through the forest. He's tired. He's filthy. He's wounded without a scratch on him.
Master. Master!
But no matter how loudly his soul cries out, his Master cannot come to pluck him from the river of trees he is flowing through.
He's dead. He's gone. He's dead. He DIED. I'm alone.
And the little boy stops short. His heart races and his breath tears out of his lungs and his feet are silent and still.
Master is dead.
He bends swiftly, feeling like he's going to be sick and lose what remains of his dinner from only hours ago.
Master?
Here, tipped parallel to the world, he can see his Master's face. It's only as he feels the cry of gladness welling up that he realizes what he truly sees. It's his own face, reflected in a moon-dark pond on the forest floor. Blond hair that frames a solemn face. A red tilaka over the sixth chakara that denotes a Sanzo priest. He doesn't look as young as he is. He doesn't look as old as he feels.
I look like Master.
He closes his eyes and reaches into the sleeve of his robe as he straightens. There, inside a clever fold in the sleeve, is the only thing that he brought with him on his headlong flight. A scroll. A sutra. A force to help create a world or destroy one.
Master gave me the tilaka. Master gave me the sutra. Master gave his death for my life. Master trusted my strength.
The boy in the wood turns slowly back upon his path. The moon is setting. The sun is rising.
I've always trusted Master.
Death is no reason to stop.
I'm not going to die.
His feet keep a steady, measured pace back to the temple.
I'm going to live no matter what.
There is a boy walking through the forest. He's tired. He's filthy. He's scarred from a wound that might have killed a lesser man.
I'm going to live.
Author: Kubaru Suki
Prompt: #4, Opposites
Time: 23:32
Notes: Though I don't respond to each comment left, please know that I cherish every one of them and they never fail to make me go 'eee!' and flail a little bit.
Life and Death
There is a boy running through the forest. He's tired. He's filthy. He's wounded without a scratch on him.
Master. Master!
But no matter how loudly his soul cries out, his Master cannot come to pluck him from the river of trees he is flowing through.
He's dead. He's gone. He's dead. He DIED. I'm alone.
And the little boy stops short. His heart races and his breath tears out of his lungs and his feet are silent and still.
Master is dead.
He bends swiftly, feeling like he's going to be sick and lose what remains of his dinner from only hours ago.
Master?
Here, tipped parallel to the world, he can see his Master's face. It's only as he feels the cry of gladness welling up that he realizes what he truly sees. It's his own face, reflected in a moon-dark pond on the forest floor. Blond hair that frames a solemn face. A red tilaka over the sixth chakara that denotes a Sanzo priest. He doesn't look as young as he is. He doesn't look as old as he feels.
I look like Master.
He closes his eyes and reaches into the sleeve of his robe as he straightens. There, inside a clever fold in the sleeve, is the only thing that he brought with him on his headlong flight. A scroll. A sutra. A force to help create a world or destroy one.
Master gave me the tilaka. Master gave me the sutra. Master gave his death for my life. Master trusted my strength.
The boy in the wood turns slowly back upon his path. The moon is setting. The sun is rising.
I've always trusted Master.
Death is no reason to stop.
I'm not going to die.
His feet keep a steady, measured pace back to the temple.
I'm going to live no matter what.
There is a boy walking through the forest. He's tired. He's filthy. He's scarred from a wound that might have killed a lesser man.
I'm going to live.