Just a short musing on Kira to take a break from my other work.
Before Ichimaru had entered his life, Kira had enjoyed the rain.
Rain quieted life in Soul Society. Festivals were canceled due to it, funerals were more somber in it, and even the most ferocious fights halted under the watery pour.
Rain brought the lieutenant peace, and quiet; something that he prized highly in his life as a Shinigami.
Rain brought him joy and mystery. He had shared his first kiss under the protective bow of a large oak tree during a spring downpour. He had read with Renji during their academy days when it rained and the fiery red-head had had to cancel his zanpakuto practice due to the grounds being too muddy.
Rain brought him closer to his own soul, and deeper into his own senses. He had first spoken to Wabisuke during a thunderstorm. He could perfectly recall the smell of an April morning after a previous evenings rainfall. His bare feet walking on wet grass was his guilty pleasure, and he felt more energized right before a storm, as if the electricity that was building in the atmosphere also built inside him as well.
Kira had loved the rain.
Then Ichimaru came into his life.
Ichimaru too, enjoyed the rain. He had liked to try to catch the raindrops with his long, thin fingers. He had taken more walks during wet weather, and his ever-present smile seemed more genuine on those days when he came into the office soaked to the bone and leaving a large puddle of water by Kira's desk just to let him know that he was thinking of him.
These days, to Kira, rain was unwelcome in every sense of the word.
When it rained, he couldn't fight in the training arena because the mud would be horrible. When it rained, it seemed louder and more crass sounding than soft and soothing like it had sounded in his youth. Instead of breathing in the soft smell of new life, Kira gagged on the wet kimono smell.
When it rained, he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts of Ichimaru.
Kira was aware of the rumors that were circulating about what had really happened between him and the former Captain of the Third Division.
Some believed that he had been bewitched. Others believed that the lieutenant and the smiling fox-faced captain had had a physical relationship where Kira had been dominated and forced into permanent submission.
Yet nothing of the sort had happened.
It was worse; they had understood each other, had been friends, and had loved the rain together.
Sex wasn't the only tool someone could utilize to utterly destroy someone, the lieutenant knew. It was a potent tool to be sure, but not the only one.
He, Kira, had been totally blind not to a domineering lover or a wicked Captain.
He had followed a friend.
And for this reason, he now hated the rain.