It is trapped in an impure place where perfection is lacking and petty desires dressed up as ritual are left to fester. Purity cannot comprehend this, it does not understand the ways of the impure--it can only suffer as fumes of decay surround it, straining it like the sound of nails across blackboard and the feel of fingers on velvet slime.
Purity longs for the solace of Nirvana, but does not know how to reach it. Nor does it realise that it is longing in the first place. All it is able to do, is to withdraw into solitude and routine like an hermit crab hides in its hand-me-down house. All it has mastered are little things; fixed rituals which it performs without fail while wondering what this feeling is that gnaws inside its chest.
Purity hasn't made the connection between the emotion and the name of the emotion. It has no past and no future, it just is. Purity has no concept of self, no insight into its own existence. And so, it is stuck and in pain--trapped like a larvae in its cocoon. Mercy wonders how much longer it will take for it to get a clue.
Behind Kanzeon Bosatsu's irreverent smirk lurks a smidge of concern. The final motes of entertainment value in watching Konzen Douji suffer unknowingly are long gone. Se knows that as long as he is unaware of himself and his path through the world, he will carry his pain with him without knowing how to transcend it.
That is why Kanzeon tries as best se can to guide hir stubborn nephew; to nudge him into motion and change so that the purity he is can transcend into the light he is meant to be. Unfortunately, Konzen is so firmly entrenched in his chosen routines that even hir blatant flirting, goading and various other torments have failed to dislodge him from the cocoon of paper and dust that chafes on his wings of enlightenment.
But then something unexpected happens that breaks the monotony. The Earth itself produces something so unique that order has no pre-constructed place for it.
A creature, shackled and bound, is brought before Kanzeon's throne. It has been taken from Under Heaven, and is to be held in Heaven for safekeeping. The creature looks like a young human boy, but in reality it is itan; an entity branded by Heaven as impure. Itan are feared and loathed as aberrations and bringers of misery; doomed to stand forever on the outside looking in, for no one knows what would happen if an itan was to be allowed to carve a place for itself within the universe.
This itan is cranky and unruly, like the child it resembles; hungry and unhappy to be yanked about without getting the promised food. The Goddess of Mercy watches its antics amusedly, knowing a wild card opportunity when se sees one. "Wild" being the operative word, se quietly notes to hirself as se looks into the child's golden eyes and perceives the primal force within. A promising creature if se's ever laid eyes upon one.
To Kanzeon's smug delight, the boy suddenly sees Konzen Douji and a momentary hush settles over the child--echoed by a similar hush within Konzen as his frosty, impassive gaze meets the itan's wide-eyed, wonderstruck stare.
Absolute innocence. Absolute purity.
The great wheel hesitates for a fraction so brief only the greatest of deities notice it; but it is enough. The pulse beat of birth-life-death-rebirth changes and future is unleashed from predictability.
Innocence ignores the mask of detachment and the wall of incomprehension as it looks straight into the heart of purity, resonating with the promise of unsullied perfection. Where others see only the exterior of sharp, discouraging angles and frigid glares, innocence sees brilliant, welcoming light and gold-glow serenity.
Purity senses something new, something right, but it cannot express what it is. Nor does it understand or appreciate Mercy's gift, when Mercy places innocence in its keeping. What it sees is its perfect order crumbling; brought to its knees by sticky fingerprints on the walls, crumbs in the sheets, droplets of peach juice on the papers, sand in the carpet, dirty little paws pulling at clean robes, endless questions and complaints and demands.
Konzen, I'm hungry!
Konzeeeen, can we go outside?
What's a recc...rekisi...re-cui-sish'n, Konzen?
You never told me I couldn't drink ink, so how was I s'posed to know it was gonna turn my mouth black?! An' it tastes like yuk!!
Why's he so grumpy, Konzen? The cherries were just hangin' there, an' noone was using them or anything!
I'm HUNGRY!
Konzen, come on!
SHUT UP!!!
It is enough to drive anyone to despair, and Konzen responds with the only expressions he knows; anger and physical sanctions. Not that the latter make any impressions on the whirlwind of guileless curiosity that has invaded his well-ordered life, nor does the former cause more than mere moments of offended pouting.
Contrary to certain kamis' jaded beliefs, innocence in itself is no new quality to Heaven. It was always here, but it has been passive; and thanks to the growing momentum of greed and corruption it has become a fleeting thing--a fragile prey favoured by gourmets. They don't know it yet, these connoisseurs, but along with the rest of creation they are on the threshold of very interesting times indeed.
Interesting because innocence is about to stop being a victim and start being the lever that will move Heaven and Earth. It can do that when it is fuelled by primal drive and protected and guided by purity, valour and method. Each at odds with the current state of decay devolved from stagnation, but until now without a catalyst to spur them into action and evolution.
Kanzeon Bosatsu knows all about primal drives, and approves of their return to the Heavens in this new guise. Kami are part of the great wheel too, and move along the same paths of evolution and enlightenment as those Under Heaven. The perfection of Heaven has become nothing but stagnation, trapping the kami in an ever murkier pool of inertia. With eyes no longer upon the grander picture, but rather focused on petty ambition and selfish schemes, they are allowing the baser drives to entangle them instead of lift them--thoughtlessly increasing the amount of suffering in all of creation.
And suffering, well -- that's old hat. Boring, pointless and so five thousand years ago.
Kami have no business adding to the suffering. It goes against their mandate.
As the embodiment of Mercy, it is Kanzeon's directive and choice to ensure relief from suffering; but nowhere did the founders of order say that mercy had anything to do with comfort. Kanzeon wouldn't have taken the mantle of Mercy upon hir if it had, because comfort is also boring. Comfort teaches nothing and changes nothing. Things that don't change are unbelievably dull, and Kanzeon is tired of waiting.
To purge the Heavens, there must be light.
For light to shine, it must become aware of itself.
That primal innocence sees the sun that is the seed from which light will spring, is a good start.
In a way it is fitting that teaching the sun to shine will take nothing less than the very essence of life itself.