Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Tadaima ❯ Bittersweet Taste of Blithe ( Chapter 1 )

Tadaima

 

 

 

Being weak is bliss.

 

For all those times you preach strength and Darwinism, you doubly like the sweet oblivion weakness leaves, the inescapable euphoric slumber that is three days on pain killers and unconscious.

 

Oh, you recognize that only the strong survive and the weak die and all that bullshit;

 

…but…

 

In your sweetest dreams there is always a live, smiling Koumyou Sanzo. There is always a blue, blue sky for that perfect contrast and there, bare skeleton trees surround the two of you. There are waves of orange, leaves to be swept. There is unkempt hair and scrapes and bruises, affectionate murmurs and mock scowls. There is paper for gentle hands to fold. Smoke curls lazily up to the sky and soft carefree laughter is in the tender breeze…

A world where you cannot be bothered by nuisances of reality, untried by the world you are a preadolescent, naïve and jaded simultaneously.

And for a brief, fleeting, lingering moment, you are truly happy.

 

—Searing pain as your world comes crashing down about you, quickly, hastily, grasp and grab and desperately clutch onto that imprisoning memory because tragedy strikes fast and hard and you just aren't strong enough this time like every other time and—

There. The stench of death. Splattered blood. A rotting corpse, a smiling skull—guttering shadows of what once was.

 

Wake to that mocking thing that haunts you, that something terrible that isn't quite there.

 

You hate being weak. It's times like this…

You're barely lucid but you are agonizingly aware that only the strong survive.

 

You loathe yourself for being such a hypocrite.

 

Impatiently, anxiously wait for that opportunity to be weak again;

you crave that bittersweet taste with your entire being.

 

After all, you are only truly free when you have a home.

 

And this…this is your home-sweet-home.

 

This exquisite splendor of mine—I never want to let go of this feeling.