voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post March]

A New Platform [Intro Post March]

PLATFORM STOP: MONTH 17
(QUICKSAND)

BEFORE ARRIVAL

"Good morning Voidtreckers, it is day 1 of the month of Quicksand. Points have been updated on the system."
The voice of the Voidtrecker Express welcomes passengers at the same time as always, sometime after breakfast. With points updated, everyone can spend the morning shopping. Most people will be expecting the second announcement that comes a few hours later, as the colours of the void outside the windows blur more and more.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. The weather is cold and damp. Exit from void in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
A lurch and a jolt, and the windows fill with the fog that means they are at a platform.

ON THE PLATFORM

1. THE ARRIVAL

At first, all your character can see is steam billowing around them as they come to their senses. But as their eyes adjust, they find themselves on a platform.
It is cold, a slush of ice and rain on the ground underneath their feet. It's not currently raining though. The platform is made of black cobbles, slippy under their feet, dark stone gates serving as barriers giving the impression of a severe and grim place.

They stand in clothes not their own, in a style they might not even recognise. They're carrying a rucksack on their person, and for a moment it seems to just be them, alone on this platform. Before the fog starts to subside, and they'll see they're one of eleven figures: all facing the tracks, and all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies, the latter in one of four colours. Purple, red, blue or orange.

But then there's a roaring sound to get their attention, and out from the fog arrives a train. A sleek black, it it reads The Voidtrecker Express in gold lettering on the side. Every one of the doors hiss as they open automatically, and out pours a strange assortment of people, over a hundred at least. Some are human, some less so, with a majority wearing the same hoodie of four colours as they do, though some sport outfits in a variety of styles.

The train doors close behind them, and the vehicle is cloaked in the same fog that hides the world beyond the platform. A group of people head towards the gates of the platform, their expressions blank and unaffected by their surroundings. Ansem, Connor, Curufin, Elle Days, Freddy Fazbear, Margulis, Murderbot, Potato, Vexen, Will Stanton and Yota They disappear through the barriers, but no one else can - all people can do is wait until the train re-emerges, finishing whatever changes it's making.

2. BOARDING THE TRAIN

After a short time, perhaps ten minutes or so, the fog clears and the doors hiss open again. Everyone will feel a pull when they do, a need to board, and those from the train may encourage new arrivals to board. This feeling grows into one of apprehension and turns worse the longer they stay off-board.

For those that do board, they may find themselves in a few different carriages, but most likely the standard coach. A row of seats sit available, with a few tables between each. More likely than not, some cookies have been set out with jugs of drink, and cups available for pouring.

For those that don't, however, they're likely to attract attention if they're spotted. And if that fails... an unfortunate end will await them.

3. DEPARTURE

Do a little exploring, if you will. But people will have half an hour total from the train's arrival before a second horn sounds, encouraging any stragglers taking advantage of the fresh air to board. After five minutes from this, the doors slide shut. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, but they may wish to brief their new companions.

The train begins to rumble with activity, and the platform starts to disappear into a fog as the voidcraft moves. A female-coded artificial voice echoes throughout the train.

"Welcome aboard, passengers of the Voidtrecker Express. Please take the time to read the passenger information displayed on the Information and Communication points, and familiarise yourself with the layout and emergency exits."

The train begins to tilt, leaving the ground and rising up into the fog-filled sky.

"Entrance into Voidspace imminent. New passengers are advised to remain seated. Entry into Voidspace in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

A shudder, a jolt, a lurch to the left. A flash of light, colourful and blinding. As quick as it happens it is done. The train seems to steady itself. The fog from the windows is gone now, replaced with a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colours.

Welcome to the Void.

ON THE TRAIN

1. EXPLORING

With nowhere to go but through the train's carriages, this is a good time for newcomers to explore. For veterans, it's back to your everyday life aboard the Voidtrecker Express.

¤ New arrivals will notice a screen and console in every carriage sharing the same message, and a stack of leaflets in holders by them offering further information to the curious (see 'Publications'). There are lavatories available on each carriage on one end, with another console with a deposit box under it at the other. This is the train shop.

¤ It'll take some time for newbies to figure out the layout, even if there's only two directions to go in. Go one end, and you'll find the food stores and washing utilities. This month's key ingredient is pineapple, and you're sure to bump into others curious about what's in the stock.

¤ Go to the other end, and you'll find the sleeper cabins. Plaques sit on the wall by each door with the names of their occupants, and one of these will be yours - hopefully, they'll figure out that swiping their ticket against the doorpad will open it up to them. In most rooms, the occupied beds are obvious, leaving the spotless, empty spaces for the newcomers. Room is tight, but there are storage cubbies at the head of each bed, beds fold up and, the bottom bunks double as benches for the small table. There is storage under those benches full of spare blankets and pillows.

¤ At the farthest end in this direction is the luggage carriage, where passengers who have bought items from the train shop will find their purchases. There are also medical kits for every one, each labelled with their full roster name. These are scattered around the luggage carriage in various suitcases and bags, but there's also a small fridge and kettle here with bottled water, for those who want a quiet drink.

For those of Purple team who go looking for their reward they will find simple boxes of cupcakes to share out. There's a cupcake for all of purple team, even the new arrivals, share in your new team's success!

2. ACTIVITIES

But of course, there's also everything in-between those two directions, and the people in them.

¤ Areas of note will be the training gym, where there's always regulars training to pass the time. There's a training board offering services, but maybe you'll find someone who catches your eye in here. Or even its gear?

¤ Is your character used to the appliances to be found in the kitchen? Depending on when your character wanders in, they may find someone testing out a recipe, preparing for lunch, or even dinner time.

¤ The library offers a quiet place, with a fair selection of books from fiction to non-fiction. Is your character interested in learning more about the void? Picking up an action or adventure book? Wow, there sure are a few magazines.

¤ There's also media to consume, from the games car, the cinema, to the arts carriage. Ever played a virtual reality game? Wanted to learn how to fly? Have you seen a screen of moving pictures? There's now documentaries to be found in the cinema's catalogues, from How To programming, Void-related topics, and sports.

3. REST AND SLEEP

¤ Time is difficult to track in the void, even with the few clocks around showing a 21 hour time. But the windows allowing a view of the kalediscope void will shift to a pitch black once the time reaches 12, and keep for the rest of the day.

¤ Breakfast, lunch, and dinner time is usually announced by whoever's cooking that day, and when. Sometimes it's decided by the team chores; other times, it's decided by who wants to be cooking.

¤ But sleep eventually comes to all, even if they don't want it to. When 21 hours have finally passed on the train, all passengers, whether they need sleep or not, will see black - only to start a new day in their cabin beds, with the sound of the train's automated voice greeting them with a 'Good morning' message.

NAVIGATION ~ GAMEPLAY ~ SETTING ~ CHARACTER INITIATIVES ~ QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You know what, Kouryuu?

Koumyou stows the sweater back into the ARMs band, then just flat out reaches to take one of Genjo's hands himself.

(He's met grown-up Genjo once before, after all, he has a hunch his boy has become pretty stunted in this department.)

Whether he succeeds in taking a hand or not, Koumyou turns to lead the way down the train aisle. If he has a hand, he gives it a squeeze.

"This way! And it is, isn't it? Not from our world, it's from another passenger's. Ah... Roland, I think. We can't even buy them anymore, just him. I got mine in the nick of time!"

Panic mode initiated.

Koumyou's sudden attempt at an arm grab was not at all what Genjo was expecting in what was initially a basic conversation. And because it was so unexpected, and because Genjo had managed to drop his guard just enough at the sight of his master, Koumyou has managed to succeed. The reassuring squeeze and playful tugging only further caused the sirens in Genjo's mind to go off.

Eyes wide and alert, the fear (the first authentic expression he had managed to show since he had gotten here) made itself more than apparent.

And then the reflexes kicked in.

He was barely even thinking as he did it. Years of instinct took hold as he gripped back at his master's wrist, instead of following him, turning away from him, and using the older man's forwards momentum to pull him back with a slingshot-like reaction. He was procedurally attempting to grab his beloved master's arm instead and flip the entirety of his body over his shoulder to pull off a perfectly choreographed seoi otoshi.

That's okay, son. Dad has instincts of his own when surprised!

In the flash of an instant that Koumyou is over Genjo's back and in the nanosecond where he starts to be flung forward, Koumyou suddenly lifts off of his son. Fast and hard enough that if Genjo doesn't let go of his arm, he's taking a trip up with him.

Where?

Oh, just up to the ceiling. There are Seiten tendrils everywhere, pressing against the walls of the narrow hall hard enough to make them creak audibly and keep one or both of them up there just with sheer pressure.

There's a second of surprised silence from the older Sanzo, and then Koumyou bursts into a fit of giggles. "Sorry, sorry! Are you okay? I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

Thankfully the shock of the entire scenario mixed with Sanzo's survival instincts made him more than aware enough to let go upon feeling the retaliation. Instead, stumbling forward slightly, his eyes still wide with alert as he immediately looked up with panic-- Only to see the Seiten's sheer display enact before him.

The sight had left him in a moment of stunned silence. Simply starting at the scripture as it expanded and moved across the cabin's walls. His eyes fixated primarily on the figure that summoned them.

A beautiful yet horrifying sight, the view of his master descending from above with the full extent of the scripture sprawling out from him.

Even as the scene calmed itself and merely ended with Koumyou landing upon his feet and letting out a soft laugh, Genjo could only stare on in dazed wonder. Instead, he slowly returned to his feet and gave himself time to compose himself during the others' giggling.

"It is you."

He couldn't deny himself this any longer, could he? As much as he wished he could. He would be a fool not to accept Koumyou Sanzo for who he was.

"Well, I sure hope so. I'd be really bad at being someone else!"

Now that the older Sanzo is on his feet again, the Seiten's many, many extra tendrils vanish, back to laying quietly on Koumyou's thin shoulders once more.

"Now that that's settled," Koumyou holds out his hand again, palm up, wiggling his fingers, "take my hand so I don't get thrown this time? That was well done, by the way! Very smooth and efficient, as always."

And not at all surprising. Even as a kid, little Kouryuu had been kicking full grown adults' asses in the temple in practice on a regular basis.

It was still pretty cool though.

Amazing.

So little in the world was capable of leaving Genjo Sanzo awestruck. But this was one of the few genuine moments that had left him stunned on what to do. Koumyou's familiarly playful attitude did not aid in the plethora of confusing feelings that Genjo was experiencing.

This time, as Koumyou reached out, Genjo did not fight. He winced. He could feel his chest racing, a surge of strange and unfamiliar emotions rising, fighting for escape. His pulse pounding in his ears like a sense of panic one would experience while fighting on the brink of their life. But he didn't fight.

It took every bit of will he had to suppress that urge alongside every other desire he had felt.

But instead, he kept silent, and his head lowered obediently despite the compliments Koumyou gave as he dragged him along in tow.

His gaze instead just fixated on their hands where the fingers interlocked. Koumyous voice felt like white noise upon his ears.

Koumyou glances back around that point, but he doesn't let go of his son's hand. He just leads him to the quiet car with its myriad of little rooms that lock from the inside, and leads him in. Once there, he actually tugs his grown-up son to one of the benches along the walls, then lets go to go lock the door and throw something out of his ARMs band over the window.

"There, privacy."

The older Sanzo nudges the little table in the room closer to Genjo's bench, and produces a few nice cups and... yes, a steaming pot of tea, from the gaudy bracelet next. He pours for them both, then sets the pot down, and then sits down beside his son. Not touching, but not pulling away either.

"Please tell me what's wrong? No one else can see or hear us in here."

It was all too much. Even in such a small and secure room, just looking up at Koumyou was difficult. Genjo felt more incentive to trust him, but looking up at him and making eye contact? Genjo felt himself getting little flashes of a life he thought had long since gotten over.

A calm smile. The soft breeze of autumn leaves. An orange paper airplane along a blue sky. And his face- lifeless- bloody- yet oh so oddly serene.

Genjo felt his body tense up once more, simply sitting down as requested and focussing instead on the tea that Koumyou poured out. His head tilted away, arms crossing around his torso as he was asked the inevitable question.

"... It's nothing," He was adjusting. He had to adapt and get past this. People who didn't cope and push forward didn't survive. "How long have you been here?"

Best to focus on the present. Best to figure out what the hell was going on. Fixating on old questions would solve nothing.

"Kouryuu," Koumyou says gently, his concern writ on his face, "Genjo. I know you've lived a long time without me, now, but I'm still your-- I still think of you as my son."

He's not sure he ever put it so bluntly in words, before. Couldn't, really, in Kinzan temple.

"I don't know if you do -- if you can -- trust me. But I wish you still did, if not. You can tell me anything, I won't say a word to anyone about anything private like this."

He picks up his tea, and clears his tight throat.

"I noticed how you were on the way here, with me holding your hand. I want to at least know how to not make you miserable, now that you're grown."

How horrible was it that something like Koumyou's admission of a parental role was enough to get Genjo's shoulders to tense up? His fingers dug into the fabric of his hoodie as he listened intently to his masters' pleas.

Genjo didn't wish to bother him. He understood the concern which that tone of voice held, the pain shared through mutual years of gods only know. They understood so very little about one another now, didn't they?

It was stupid.

Genjo wished to tell him, but even thinking about it brought up so many different and conflicting emotions that he wasn't even sure what to express.

He hated seeing Koumyou give him that look.

"I... Will need time," It took all of his power to keep his voice calm, to keep it from shuddering out as he spoke. His sheer stubbornness of will was the only thing keeping him together. "This is a lot to take in."

Koumyou nods, and takes a drink of his tea to ease his throat.

"I can give you that, sure. Just... it's okay to tell me, if I'm doing something that makes you too uncomfortable. Okay? I promise."

He lets that sit for a moment, then continues, "As to your earlier question, I've been here for about nine months."

He digs into his ARMs band again, and pulls out a steaming bowl of rice and cooked fish, along with a set of chopsticks. "Want some fish from an alien world? They were fun to hunt, and they're super tasty. The locals there showed me how to cook them."

Yeah, hunt. Not fish. Alien world.

He sets the food and chopsticks on the table for Genjo to take if he wants, and pulls out another for himself.

"Okay, so the gist of this situation is that this is a magic space train that not only goes to different worlds, but different versions of different worlds, too. I've met a 'you', from another version of our world. He was real; the Maten was real then, too. That's why I'm not more surprised to see you all grown up and big, though it's totally going to get me sometimes anyway."

Koumyou offers a smile, and stuffs a big bite of rice and fish into his mouth, chewing for a few moments and getting it swallowed before he continues.

"So, the multiverse is a thing! Little layers of reality piled on top of each other, too thin to perceive. There are quite a few people on the train now, or who have been on the train before, who are also from 'Earth'... but wildly different than the one you and I know. Shangri-la is just a story to them, a myth, not even a real place. I assume that means their layers are further from ours in the... I don't know, infinite cosmic stack of magazines?"

Koumyou gives that all a moment too, then adds, "So, we go around and save worlds that need it. It usually involves a good deal of violence, but other things, too. We're not restricted to our teams -- ah, you're in purple, I'm in blue -- so whatever you feel like doing is pretty much fair game. Diplomacy, herding scared civilians somewhere away from the chaos, fixing things... all kinds of stuff comes up, depending on what's needed to fix the situation on that world. I mostly stick to the violence, myself, it's what I'm best at."

Edited 2022-03-19 09:43 (UTC)

It was a lot of information, of course, but it was information he was able to manage emotionally, at least. Genjo was used to the abrupt and constantly changing world around him. In truth, he couldn't imagine himself adjusting if his life suddenly decided to calm itself.

His few years running Keiun Temple felt like a dream. His early days in Kinzen even more so. And even those were turbulent in a way.

Something was endearing about seeing Koumyou, though, full of vigor, chattering along as he casually pulled thing upon thing out of that strange band of his in hopes to appease his weary disciple.

Genjo knew he tended to squirrel things away in his sleeves, but how much was this man keeping!? Wasn't that a ridiculous amount of supplies to be considered practical?

"'Tch. What a nuisance," When not sure which specific thing to comment on, why not give your overall opinion on everything? Sanzo reached out for the strange meal despite complaining, doing his best to contemplate Koumyou's words. Was the food even still warm? How long was Koumyou hiding this in his band? Was it safe to eat at this point? "You're implying that we currently exist in some interdimensional space between worlds and time."

It wasn't a complex concept to understand. When first initiated into the 'Sanzo' title, he had been introduced to such things. The realizations of 'gods' and 'monsters' come from planes entirely beyond their existence. It was a known secret to only those within the good graces to truly accept their presence.

Sanzo saw such interdimensional hopping as an ability lorded over others to attain a higher-than-thou status. It was a nuisance.

And yet here he was, in a place between worlds. Sitting with his master who had died so long ago and enjoying a nice cup of tea and some, admittedly not bad, fish over rice.

"What is the incentive? For forcing us to play the part of world traveling heroes of justice?"

Because that's pretty much how this sounded, and frankly, it felt ridiculous.

Koumyou sets his bowl down after another huge chew-and-swallow, and nods at the question.

"For you? I'm not sure there's incentive at all. I've noticed the people who don't do missions seem to be the ones who leave the most often. It's not a perfect pattern, there have been exceptions, but if you want to go home as soon as possible, that might be the route to take. The train doesn't believe people who leave go home, but it could turn out to be the only path."

Koumyou isn't going to assume he himself is worth sticking around for. That's just his way. He never assumes that sort of thing. Even his fiance, he fully expects to move on from him at any moment. Why would his kid be different? Either of his kids? If they even think of him as their father to begin with.

"For me, I want to stay. There's nothing else for me but reincarnation, after all. If I could have gone back to our world, as myself with my memories, able to affect anything..."

The older priest trails off, gazing into empty space for a moment, holding his tea cup tightly in both hands. After that moment stretches on to the breaking point, he clears his throat and takes a drink of his tea. He's still gazing off into nothingness as he says quietly, "I would have in a heartbeat, if I could just help you."

Koumyou drops his gaze to the tea in his hands, and sighs.

"I was fully confident that you were strong enough, but that doesn't mean I didn't send you down a hellish path. A Sanzo, at that age..."

It haunts him. Less ever since he'd met his adult son the first time, but it still lurks as a weight in his heart.

"I failed you, and my duty, and even my own teaching."

Edited 2022-03-21 10:00 (UTC)

Crap.

There Koumyou went taking Genjo's attempt to steer the conversation, miraculously bringing it back to the topic he wanted to most avoid.

But there was no avoiding it, was there? As much as he wished for time to adjust, process his own emotions, sort them out, and categorize them appropriately, Koumyou wasn't giving him much chance. It worried him. He worried about approaching his master with the onslaught of raw emotion that he had felt.

But Koumyou was right.

He did fail him.

Just not in the way Koumyou probably thought. The hatred Genjo Sanzo had felt mixed and convoluted. He blamed his master for his self-sacrificial death and all he endured because of it. But it was far more profound and far more than just that.

Koumyou failed him not for the path he led him on. He was able to handle that. Despite it all, he did handle it. Koumyou failed him emotionally. In willingly deciding to sacrifice one of the few people who had ever meant anything to him.

Because of Koumyous actions, he lost the only person he had ever considered family.

Genjo Sanzo sighed as he left another moment of silence between them. He was trying to center and ground himself. He was forming a plan in his mind to approach this without losing control.

"With all due respect with Master, I mean this with utmost sincerity," he lifted his gaze. His eyes were intense as he met Koumyou from across the table. "What do expect to achieve with this display of self-flagellation?"

"I just want you to know," Koumyou says with a sigh, "that I know. I didn't train you properly, and then I wasn't strong enough to watch you die like I watched everyone else I ever cared about die, mostly before your time."

Goudai had been the last of them, other than Koumyou himself, but Kouryuu had been four when Goudai found a solution to his failing state that wasn't fully a suicide.

"I just couldn't 'hold nothing' when the alternative was my son's hand. I'm sorry."

Edited 2022-03-23 04:55 (UTC)

"Hmnh," Sanzo could only lower his head slightly with that. He was breaking the momentary eye contact they held like a child who had been shot down—repeating the silent rules he had established for himself throughout this conversation. Keep calm, don't lose yourself, and most of all, don't break. It's best to sort this out analytically.

But all logic seemed to be tossed out the window when it came to the matter of Koumyou Sanzo, didn't it?

"Your son... I knew that was how you felt. I always knew. I never could get used to it."

Even as a child, he knew as he was pulled up from the river's edge. Raised from an infant in the arms of this man. The priest that he knew loved him so deeply. It also meant he had to deal with the constant admonishment of his fellow disciples—a reminder of preferences he held due to being so unique in Koumyou's eyes. Most of the priesthood throughout eastern china had known of Genjo Sanzo far before he had obtained the title if simply through stories of Koumyous love for him.

"... I was weak."

"Were you?" Koumyou asks, which is at least a response more typical of him.

Another silence. It hurt talking about this. It hit a part of Genjo that he thought he would never deal with again.

"I was. You sacrificed yourself for me because you knew I could not protect myself," But, then again, Genjo never thought he would find himself face-to-face with Koumyou Sanzo once more. "I was a liability."

He lowered his head, his eyes closing as he offered a bow against the table between them.

"I'm sorry, Master."

"That isn't what happened at all," Koumyou says, picking his teapot up and refilling his cup, then holding the pot angled a little toward Genjo in a silent question. Want a refill? You know, once he picks his head up.

"Would you like me to explain what actually happened, that night? Or, later. Or... not."

He's trying to give his son the time that he'd asked for. Besides immediately telling him that he knew he had failed him. That one had had to be now, in case Genjo walked away into the mist at the next platform.

Edited 2022-03-26 06:09 (UTC)

It was a bit too late for that, in Genjo's opinion. He had lost time to adjust the moment Koumyou insistently kept bringing feelings into the conversation.

Genjo lifted his head in response to the counterclaim. Only to find himself staring face-to-spout with the teapot offered out to him. He was sitting back up straight once more to allow Koumyou the ability to move in for his cup.

How could that not have been the case? The entire scenario had felt fairly apparent in Genjo's eyes. Despite his wish to forget, the memory was a clear one that played itself out time and time again countlessly in his mind.

"We were attacked. You knew what was coming. It was why you offered me the title. You knew you would be dying that night. All because I was there."

"I knew," Koumyou agrees gently, "but it still wasn't your fault, or anything to do with your strength as a young boy under my care. You were always far, far stronger than I had been at your same age. Still are, I suspect. How old are you now?"

"... Twenty-five," Truthfully, he felt so much older with all he had to deal with throughout his time alive. But that was perhaps always the case. He had quite a lot to handle even back then, didn't he? But that was not the point of this conversation. He could have been thirteen, or he could have been seventy, and the topic of the matter wouldn't have been any different. "If I weren't there, you would have handled them just fine."

His gaze grew serious, focused for the first time squarely on Koumyou. There was no point in wavering anymore; his master was sitting in front of him. He accepted this.

"I know you are stronger than that. The youkai that attacked shouldn't have been able to take you down."

It was the one thing he and Ukoku Sanzo both agreed on.

It was Genjo's fault that Koumyou died.

Koumyou drops the age question for the moment, following his son's lead and focusing on the big issue at hand here.

"Do you remember when I introduced you to Ukoku Sanzo?"

Think of the devil, and there he is.

"He and I had quite the past, you know. And that boy he had with him..."

Koumyou clears his throat a little uncomfortably, and takes a drink of his tea.

"Looked a lot like I did at that age. Well... at that age I was still shaving my head, but if you took a young me and gave him my current bangs, it would be eerie."

He's tangenting, but only a little. Young future Kami-sama, a child prostitute who looked just like that, had been another sign of what was festering behind Ukoku's cold, dead eyes.

"Those youkai never touched me while I was alive. And I did save you, yes... but from an assassination neither of us could have countered quickly enough. An assassination targeting you. I felt it coming, and I got in its way."

He gives that a beat to soak in a little before continuing.

"I suspect I was meant to stand by and watch. Muichimotsu, and all. And then I'd have been free to spend all of my time with my very possessive, entitled stalker of nine years. The youkai were scapegoats, sent for me to mow down while you died. Plausible deniability, and another move in the chess game for us to both slyly allude to later the way we did most things in our little dance."

Koumyou sits back a little and sighs, looking less serene and more tired.

"Or perhaps I would be angry enough to finally attack him. Either way would have been a win in his book. I expect he was very angry with you for daring to be more important to me than he ever was. For being someone whose life I chose over the future he had planned for me. He's never been a gracious loser, that one."

Ukoku had been a spoiled brat from start to finish.

"You could have been ten times stronger than me and I would have done nothing differently that night. I regret what it did to you; it's haunted me ever since. But I don't regret saving you, just like from the river. It's what a father should do, isn't it? If there had been another way, I would have taken it. If we both could have lived, I would have done that instead.

"But I just wasn't strong enough to watch you die. So I abandoned muichimotsu, and you had to see... that. I know what that's like, seeing something like that happen to someone important to you. I watched the very same spell do the same thing to my last living friend, when you were four, and then I was ordered to travel with and train his killer for a year. Goudai's killer, wearing his sutra and crown. I think after that is when I stopped listening to orders from above.

"I'm the one who named him Ukoku, you know? Because a single raven cried out the moment he killed Goudai."

Edited 2022-03-29 12:16 (UTC)

Genjo did his best to listen, as tricky as it had been. It took all his might to not visibly cringe at the very first mention of Ukoku, even more so at the mention of Kami. Right, Koumyou wasn't aware of how much he did know about that. Of course, if it were merely a few years before, he may not have.

But he didn't flinch. He felt his hands clench, but he did not withdraw even as he felt the anger consume him with confirmation of something that was once pure suspicion.

Of course that man had something to do with Koumyous death. It made sense with how the Seiten had managed to find itself in the hands of Gyumaohs revival practices.

But no amount of emotion or rage would change his original statement. Was it warming to hear that Koumyous love for him was so strong that he became dedicated to protecting and caring for him? Of course. But he was not worth all that had happened. The Koumyou Sanzo should not have been sacrificed for the sake of a small weak child like him.

In the end, he was still a liability. And one that ended the life of his master at that.

"It must have been hard for you. Dealing with that," Genjo wanted to argue that to Koumyou. He wanted to scream at him. Tell him that his life wasn't so unimportant as to sacrifice it as he had. That Koumyous life was just as precious. No, it was even more so. "I've seen him, you know. Quite recently at that."

Was Genjo's existence such a hindrance to the crow?

"He's an asshole."

Koumyou chuckles at that, picking his bowl up again to pick at the rice and fish. "To say the least, yes."

Dealing with that, and that Ukoku is an asshole.

"I encountered him quite recently, myself. He got one thing he's always wanted from me; I fought him, and I killed him. I should have done it a long, long time ago. Another failing."

If he'd just killed Ken'yuu in that cell the night before Goudai's death, none of this would have happened. Of course, that would have fucked up Goudai's planned retirement, as his other students likely couldn't have taken the old man even in his extremely weakened state.

Taisouji temple had never produced a weak Sanzo. Those candidates tended to die very, very fast in the years-long process.

Well, even if he'd fucked up Goudai's plans, Momo-chan could have found another way to go out fighting. Perhaps even one that wouldn't involve Koumyou standing on the sidelines as an observer.

But muichimotsu had been in full swing at the time, and Koumyou hadn't particularly cared about the young asshole's wishes. Not after the incident that had gotten him locked up.

"You know, he was an asshole before he became a Sanzo, too. But he still had a tiny spark, a little scrap of a soul left in him. I suspect the Muten ate it; that can happen with that particular sutra. With any of them, really, but especially that one."

Koumyou looks up from his food to gaze at Genjo steadily.

"You were already strong in a way he never was, that night. And arguably a way I haven't been in decades."

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