All That Remains--Challenge #7 "Ghosts"--PG
Title: All That Remains
Author: eyesofshinigami
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Bit of angst
Notes: Written in 33 minutes and written for prompt #7 "ghosts". This turned out MUCH different than what I expected it to, but I rather liked it. ^___^
Goku had never believed in ghosts before he met Sanzo and the others. They weren't like the silly pictures of things in white sheets that rattled chains and made ridiculous noises to scare people. No, their ghosts were things that didn't seem out of the ordinary, things that wouldn't mean much to anyone else.
The ghosts he knew would be plain to most, but not to his companions. They were the sound of raindrops pinging against ever-changing rooftops, or the whisper of paper folded into a fragile paper airplane. It was the copper scent of blood, fresh like new pennies and twice as vivid. They were the scars etched into skin, both visible and not. Forgotten memories buried deep and at the surface alike were spectres too stubborn to leave this world.
Ghosts were the flick of a brown braid and a soft voice on an unfamiliar face that made Hakkai stop and clutch at his stomach. It was the thick scent of tobacco from a pipe or the scrape-scrape of a broom against cobblestones that made Sanzo retreat behind a blank expression and guarded purple eyes. And it was the warmth of a numberless face and a forgettable night that left Gojyo feeling empty and unsatisfied.
Goku wasn't exempt either. Sometimes, when he stared off into the fathomless desert, trickles of blurry memories would come to him. Sometimes it was a flutter of white robes, the rustling of paper marked with a twinge of dust, or it was the sweet scent of blossoms rivaling with the tang of sake. They often left him disoriented and aching for something he didn't know.
Hakkai had explained to him that ghosts haunted the living for a number of reasons, be it unfinished business, vengeance, or because they simply refused to be forgotten.
How very, very true.
Author: eyesofshinigami
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Bit of angst
Notes: Written in 33 minutes and written for prompt #7 "ghosts". This turned out MUCH different than what I expected it to, but I rather liked it. ^___^
Goku had never believed in ghosts before he met Sanzo and the others. They weren't like the silly pictures of things in white sheets that rattled chains and made ridiculous noises to scare people. No, their ghosts were things that didn't seem out of the ordinary, things that wouldn't mean much to anyone else.
The ghosts he knew would be plain to most, but not to his companions. They were the sound of raindrops pinging against ever-changing rooftops, or the whisper of paper folded into a fragile paper airplane. It was the copper scent of blood, fresh like new pennies and twice as vivid. They were the scars etched into skin, both visible and not. Forgotten memories buried deep and at the surface alike were spectres too stubborn to leave this world.
Ghosts were the flick of a brown braid and a soft voice on an unfamiliar face that made Hakkai stop and clutch at his stomach. It was the thick scent of tobacco from a pipe or the scrape-scrape of a broom against cobblestones that made Sanzo retreat behind a blank expression and guarded purple eyes. And it was the warmth of a numberless face and a forgettable night that left Gojyo feeling empty and unsatisfied.
Goku wasn't exempt either. Sometimes, when he stared off into the fathomless desert, trickles of blurry memories would come to him. Sometimes it was a flutter of white robes, the rustling of paper marked with a twinge of dust, or it was the sweet scent of blossoms rivaling with the tang of sake. They often left him disoriented and aching for something he didn't know.
Hakkai had explained to him that ghosts haunted the living for a number of reasons, be it unfinished business, vengeance, or because they simply refused to be forgotten.
How very, very true.