Koumyou hums to himself in thought, and folds one leg up onto the edge of the bed before him, horizontally. The fingers of both hands grip his shin through his jeans, less out of any necessity to hold the position and more... for something to do with his hands.
"Muichimotsu, or roughly, 'hold nothing'," he recites, "If you meet Buddha, kill Buddha. If you meet the patriarchs, kill the patriarchs. Free of all, bound by nothing, you live your life simply as it is."
Koumyou's gaze drops from Devero, to the floor. He's not really seeing it, though.
"Everyone has their own interpretations of these teachings, that's just how it is. For me..."
He has to think about it for a second. "I... watched so many people I cared about die, you know. The impermanence of life... the inevitability of death. It was comforting to think... there was nothing I could do about it anyway, right? So I may as well just... let go of them."
It's so hard to try to put into words, but he's trying.
"I let myself care about the people I cared about, sure, but how much? When it was time for them to die, I just... over and over. Just..." Koumyou lifts his bandaged hand into the air, closed, and opens his fingers like he's dropping a fistful of ashes into the wind. "Gone. It's the only Buddhist teaching I ever passed on to anyone. I taught it to Ukoku, and I watched his soul shrivel away... and I did nothing to stop it."
If there had been anything to do to stop it, was another question altogether. But he hadn't even tried. Ken'yuu hadn't been entirely empty, surely, there must have been a chance. But, in the year they'd traveled together after Ukoku inherited the Muten sutra... Koumyou had just watched, a passive observer to life, as the last flicker of light faded away.
no subject
"Muichimotsu, or roughly, 'hold nothing'," he recites, "If you meet Buddha, kill Buddha. If you meet the patriarchs, kill the patriarchs. Free of all, bound by nothing, you live your life simply as it is."
Koumyou's gaze drops from Devero, to the floor. He's not really seeing it, though.
"Everyone has their own interpretations of these teachings, that's just how it is. For me..."
He has to think about it for a second. "I... watched so many people I cared about die, you know. The impermanence of life... the inevitability of death. It was comforting to think... there was nothing I could do about it anyway, right? So I may as well just... let go of them."
It's so hard to try to put into words, but he's trying.
"I let myself care about the people I cared about, sure, but how much? When it was time for them to die, I just... over and over. Just..." Koumyou lifts his bandaged hand into the air, closed, and opens his fingers like he's dropping a fistful of ashes into the wind. "Gone. It's the only Buddhist teaching I ever passed on to anyone. I taught it to Ukoku, and I watched his soul shrivel away... and I did nothing to stop it."
If there had been anything to do to stop it, was another question altogether. But he hadn't even tried. Ken'yuu hadn't been entirely empty, surely, there must have been a chance. But, in the year they'd traveled together after Ukoku inherited the Muten sutra... Koumyou had just watched, a passive observer to life, as the last flicker of light faded away.
Muichi motsu.
"I even taught it to my son."