Saiyuki Reload Fan Fiction ❯ The Sutra ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

The Sutra - Chapter 1

In the western land of Tenjiku, a land where darkness and solitude reigned stood Botou Castle, the last dominating fortress for the demons living in Tengenkyou. Approaching the throne room, Kougaji walked down the same hallway as he did for the last centuries. In the dimly lights, his figures were fully revealed. His skin was dark copper, gleaming like it has been oiled. Red hair, as red as the marks on his face, was thick and long, shadowing his sharp pointed face. His violet eyes bore resentment as the doors opened for him.

Sitting high above him was no other than his father's foxy mistress, Gyokumen Koshu. Cunning and crafty, she had his father, Gyumao, twirled around her little finger like a child's toy, poisoning his mind with lustful thoughts and idleness. If only his mother, Resetsugyo, had hardened her heart a little bit more, Gyumao wouldn't be subdued by the fighting god, Nataku and his mother cast under a spell that couldn't be broken by ordinary magic. Though Kougaji lacked concrete evidences, he always believed Gyokumen Koshu had something to do with his mother's plight. Now, she had this insane idea of relieving Gyumao with science and sorcery, the two conflicting elements since the beginning of time. As Gyumao's son, he should be filial and support her but there was something biting into his heart.

Fear? Maybe. The fear he hated was becoming to be a reality. His fellow demons had awakening their dormant bloodthirstiness and only desire to wreck havoc over the land. Gyokumen Koshu didn't mind it. In fact, she loved it. The killing was made her popular and increased her influential over her enemies, especially the other mistresses of Gyumao, except that they were all dead now.

Sinking in comfortably on the throne, Gyokumen Koshu saucily addressed him and ordered him to do an errand for - the retrieval of a Sutra. Another Sutra? Smirking, Gyokumen Koshu told him that her scientist, Dr Ni concluded that the Sutra was located in a village that was once a shrine years ago. Based on rumours and stories, a Sanzo had settled down there and hid his Sutra somewhere a couple of months before he died.

With a flick of her highly polished hand, she dismissed him after adding her irritating request for Kougaji to accept her as his mother. As soon the coast is cleared, Kougaji cursed under his breath that as soon his mother was freed, Gyokumen Koshu's head would be rolling on the ground.

& nbsp;

At somewhere else, not far nor near, a jeep, carrying four men, was traveling along the plain. At the driver's seat was a man, in green oriental shirt and jeans. He had brown hair with its fringes covering almost half of his face. Yet his green eyes shone out brightly. Next to him, a blond haired man in priestly robes, smoking a cigarette. Behind him was a young chirpy boy looking longingly for something. The last occupant was a ruffian-looking fellow with shoulder-length red hair. He, too, was smoking a cigarette.

“Sanzo, I'm hungry,” groaned the boy, Goku, rubbing his stomach.

“Shut up, baka saru (stupid monkey),” replied Sanzo, the priestly robed man.

“But…”

“Then eat the weeds around you!”

“Really?” Goku looked around excitedly. “Where? Where?”

“Idiot!” Gojyo, the red haired ruffian grunted. “There's nothing growing on this hard and dusty road! Use your head!”

“But I'm hungry!” Goku wailed, hearing another rumble of his stomach.

“Just endure,” Hakkai cheerfully said as he turned the steering wheel. “There's a village a mile away. We'll reach there at around evening.”

“Really?” Goku's brown eyes brightened. “Hooray! I want to eat dumplings, fried noodles, steam pork buns, Peking's duck, roast beef…”

“Shut your gap, monkey!” Gojyo growled. “You are making a racket!”

“Who's talking to you? Kappa (water demon)!”

“I am, you imbecile!”

“But I'm not, you red-haired kappa!”

“What was that?”

“You know what I meant!”

“SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!!!!” Sanzo yelled, hitting both Goku and Gojyo with his huge white fan.

Evening came and the foursome arrived at the nearest inn in the village. Luckily for everyone, the inn had enough guestrooms for all of them as well as food. After a satisfying meal, the four went in their separate enjoyments of life. Goku went with Hakkai for shopping, Gojyo at a pub to drink his fill of liquor and women while Sanzo stayed behind in his room to rest. Changing into more comfortable clothes, Sanzo rubbed his aching head. What a nuisance everyone was!

Lying back on the soft bed, he stared upward at the ceiling and took a small reflection of the past uneventful days. So far, no demons had attacked them yet and the potential of an assassin was great. Based on logic, it would be safer for all four of them to be together. However, under the given circumstances of the availability of a room to himself, he wouldn't care in the world if an assault were to happen in the next second. With a tired sigh, he closed his eyes and slept.

Though sleep came to him speedily, so did dreams. He dreamt of the night that haunted him for years. The night he lost his sanctuary and the only person who truly cared for him. It was Kyomo Sanzo, a father and mentor to him, always guiding him, navigating him, and encouraging him to become an individual, not succumbing to the monotonous ways of the norm. Kyomo Sanzo always said the definition of being someone should not be bound by the prohibition of meat and liquor or the strict practice of Buddhism. No matter how many things a man could do to make himself religious, it is a plain and simple fact that he is nothing more than a show-off.

Based on this, Kyomo Sanzo did not allow him to have his head shaved though the other monks insisted that he should because that was the rule for monks to have their heads shave. The rules? Kyomo Sanzo repeated that word very clearly.

I know the rules of any monastery but did I say this boy is to be a monk?

Oh yes, the boy remembered the expressions the monks had pasted on their faces.

This boy is my disciple and the decision on whenever he should be a bald monk lies within me. Based on this, he is allowed to keep his hair as for long as he wish.

Once again, the monks, startled, tried to speak but Kyomo Sanzo cut them short.

Then, I take it that everyone has understood or do I have to repeat it again in simpler words understood by five years olds?

Grudgingly, the monks obeyed and left. Jealous of Kyomo Sanzo's attentions on the boy, found abandoned by the riverside, they gossiped all sorts of stories behind the boy's back, taking any moment to find the flaws in him. However, the boy was smarter than them and had every opportunity to make them eat their own words. Despite this, the boy found comfort and joy in Kyomo Sanzo and had made up his mind to serve him for as long as he lives.

Sadly, that wasn't his path.

On a stormy night, demons had sneaked into the temple and into his mentor's room. For a young boy, he was no match for their speed and strength and his dharma powers had little effect on them. They were too strong. Sadly and cruelly, they were too strong. They knocked him down as if he was a ragged doll. The pain was intense and blinding. In the midst of the blankness, someone came and stepped in, his arms stretched out. He didn't know what happened or some it happened. After the blankness had faded, came the fresh smell of blood.

Not his own but Kyomo Sanzo's.

In the pool of scarlet glistening blood, Kyomo Sanzo's lifeless body laid there. His clothes were ripped apart from the blow and his internal organs were bursting out from its wounds. The boy felt nauseous and couldn't stop shaking. Blood was everywhere. Everything was everywhere. Then, the boy bent down and gently pulled aside the stray locks of his mentor's brown hair. Kyomo Sanzo looked like a peaceful child sleeping in the warmth of his mother.

The boy bent even closer.

Suddenly, Komyo Sanzo snapped open his eyes and snarled.

“Genjo Sanzo!”

Instantly, Sanzo awoke, sat rigidly upwards, in cold sweat. Panting for some time, his breathings and heartbeats gradually returned to their normal pace. Still caught up in the lingering memories, Sanzo felt discomforted at the feeling he had not slept at all. At that moment, he heard a low hissing. He couldn't sense any presence of an intruder. This hissing seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, resonating inside his head.

“What the hell do you want?” He said, holding out his gun.

Genjo Sanzo… Come… Find me…

“Show yourself first!”

Come… Find me…

Strangely, the hissing disappeared and silence led the darkness once more.

To be continued…