Ello, Ello!
Well you can all thank xxxkid, is what I think your name is. Here you go. Here is the sequel to Supernatural. I hope you enjoy it. I don't think that I did all that great a job on this chapter. But I promise you that I will go back and reread Supernatural so that it flows accordingly.
For those of you that didn't read Supernatural. I would suggest reading it so that if you're confused about anything, you won't be. I don't know why this is being bolded, my computer is obviously being a douche. These words are not important.
Anyway. Updates for this story will be, in a word, sporadic. Sorry in advance.
Please read, Review and Enjoy!
He can feel her. He can smell her, breathing in her essence. She's smiling. Her smile is beautiful and it lights up the enitre space. She's a supernova when she's smiling.
Softly, she trails her hands over his skin lightly, making him tingle all over. He feels warm and happy. Something that has not been with him for a while. She encases him in her arms, wrapping herself around him.
Love. It's the single word that describes this feeling. Love. He loves her. He's always loved her, even before he existed, even before she existed. It is as though they were created specifically for eachother and no one else. She can only be his, and vice versa. They will never belong to another, and as cheesey as that might sound, it is the truth.
His lips turn up into a smile when he feel his lips, as light as a ghost, fall upon his neck. Morning kisses, is what he likes to think of them as.
He reaches up to grab her arm and it's like a jolt of electricty coursing through his viens. His eyes snap open into the bleak darkness of his empty room.
He is utterly and completely alone.
Like he has been for the past 9 months.
Orihime left him 9 months ago, although he knows it. His heart does not seems to undersrtand. And him mind seems to enjoy playing cruel tricks on him.
He gasps, struggling for a breath of air as the loss of her takes its toll on him. He feel his heart breaks all over again, the pain of it overwhelming him. He struggles out of his bed on to the cold hard floor on to his knees as he struggles to breathe.
After a few painful moments, he is fine. His breath is more even and sweet relief of air flows into his lungs and his eyes water.
This doesn't happen often. But when he let down his defenses and allow himself to think about her at night, in the morning, he becomes confused and feels as though she is here with him.
But she never is.
He hates himself for the weakness, and he would do anything to wake up in the morning and nearly choke on the memory of falling asleep with her in his arms, and waking up without her.
It makes him feel…weak. It's been 8 months already. Why does it still hurt this much? He's been trying so hard to forget her. To erase her from his mind and from his heart. To move on. She left him. It's not like she died, or he left her. She choose, on her own, to leave him.
She broke his heart. He's hurting like he never knew he could hurt before. More than a yokai stabbing him in his stomach. More than him fighting his inner demon. More than her mother crushing his internal organs with the sheer power of her will.
They were together for over 6 years. He shared things with her that he hasn't shared with anyone. She fought away his nightmares, she made him feel so strong, like he could overcome anything. She was his strenght.
Or atleast, she was his strenght.
He picks himself up off the floor, detangling the covers from around his legs. He makes his way to the bathroom, shutting her out of his mind as best as he could. However, in was in his mind where she lingered.
He turns on the water in the shower on as hot as it would go. Stripping, he stepped into the blistering hot water and sighed as the memory of her was washed away, turning his peach skin red.
He scrubbed himself down, washing away her ghostly touches and kisses. He closed his eyes and instantly he could feel her hands all over his body once more, holding on to him tightly as if she never wanted to let him go. It was only natural for him to be huanted by her presence in the shower. There were so many memories of them together, of her.
When he couldn't take anymore of the self inflicted torture, he exits the shower and dons a clean pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. He pushes his hair, which he still hadn't cut since the last time that she was with him. Pushing his hair back was futile, since it fell into his eyes. Howerver, it was something comforting about the motion in which he found himself doing when he was feeling stressed, or thinking about her. Or when he would think about his friends, Yumichika and Ikaku and how he would never see them again.
Shaking his head, he grabbed his sword and headed out into the night.
He quit The Organization. After the stuff that went down with Orihime, Gramps, and her mother, there was just no point. Besides, they didn't trust him and he didn't trust them. So he went out every night and fought random yokais he found on the street. If he was lucky, he would come across a very powerful one that would actually give him a real workout. And when he wasn't in the street fighting yokai, he was in the areana, fighting for money.
Now that he was no longer a part of The Organization, he no longer needed to work at the menial gaming design game that he hated so much. However, he still needed a means of money and it was something that he stumbled across.
6 months prior
Ichigo stumbles around the darkness blindly, he was drunk off of some really potent rice wine, or prehaps it was vodlka, he couldn't quite remember, niether did he care all that much. As long as it held thoughts of her at bay, he was fine.
He knocks into a fellow that is quite burley. He mumbles an aplology and continues on his way. However, the man obviously had something to prove and saw Ichigo as an easy, druken target.
"Hey, asshole! Watch where the fuck you are going, before I beat your fucking head in!" he swore violently. Ichigo ignores him and contiunes on his way, barely having heard the man in the first place.
"Did you hear what I said dip shit?You owe me a fucking apology!" He bellows loud enough for the people waiting egarly across the street to get in to a happening club to hear him. Many turned their attention to the behemoth of a man. That only serve to add fuel to the fire that was already burning brightly inside the man.
Ichigo once again, ignores the man and it's the final straw. The man storms to Ichigo, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder. Reacting on pure reflex alone, Ichigo grabs the man's thick arm, and twists it at an unnatural angle. The sickening sound of bone snaping is heard clear across the street. However, it's not as loud as the man's bone chilling cry of pain.
Not stopping at just breaking his arm, Ichigo spins and lands his elbow square into the man's nose, blood squirting out as the soft cartelige is crushed. The man howls again, the sound pericing through the night.
Ichigo releases the man in a crumpled heap on the ground and contiunes about his way, sadly, a more sober than he wanted to be.
However, a man, the owner of the happening club across the street, sees the exchange between the two characters and becomes instantly intrested in Ichigo and wonders if he would be a good additon to his underground fight club.
The next night, the club owner is waiting patiently outside of he bar in which he saw the oragne-haired man leave and sure enough, he walks languidly towards the bar, completely shutting the world out.
He was perfect for the line of work that he had in store for him. A man that has nothing to lose because he already lost everything. He makes his way to Ichigo, not sure about how to get his attention. If he touched him he could end up like the poor sod last night. However, its obvious that he wasn't going to talk to him if he just called out.
Ichigo makes it to the bar. He makes his way to the booth that has become his second home in the past 2 months and he nestles in, waiting for the bartender to bring his starting pitcher.
A short man with little to no hair comes into his booth with a pitcher of beer and two mugs. Ichigo looks at him with dead eyes and no expression.
"Ohayo, I'm Cyrus. Can I pour you a glass?" he offers, already pouring a pint and handing it to him. Ichigo just stares at the man, not sure what to make of him, hoping that he will just go away on his own.
"Listen kid, I saw what you did to that big fellow, the other day and I have to say that I'm impressed. Very much so. You took him down within seconds. It was beautiful, truly, a beautiful sight."
Ichigo just stares at the man. He has ablsoulutely no idea what he's talking about. Lately he's been getting into so many fights, it doesn't matter who he person is or what they are. They all blend together is a blur of activity that he doesn't spend too much time mulling over.
"Listen man, whatever you're selling, I'm not buying. Take your beer and get out of my face." Ichigo growls lowly.
The man raises his hands in defense and leans back. "Cool it man, all I'm saying is that you have a really nice talent there. It's very useful in my line of work and I was wondering if you could be intrested, that's all. You don't see too many people with your fighting skills is all I'm saying."
Having grown irritated with the man, Ichigo allows his power to build up and he feels it coating him as his teeth and nails elongate and sharpen, and his hair grows longer and turns a shade lighter.
The man eyes widens, and leans further back into his seat.
"I'm not human." He says, his voice disorted and shaky. "If you don't want me to eat your fucking heart out. I suggeest you get as fartest away from me as fast as you possibly can, before I chage my mind."
Instead of being frighten, the man is only more excited. "Shit, you're even better than I could've a hope. You're a fucking yokai!" He whispered excitedly. Ichigo scowls at the man, ready to rip him a new asshole. The man notices Ichigo's state of fury and calms down.
"Listen. I'm have this little club beneath my own club. It's somewhere for humans and yokai alike to go down there and get a little relief through a little thing called fighting. And it's not that whole pussy shit that you see on the movies, it's none of that. It's secrective, and you make atleast 500 a fight. And that's if you lose. If you win, it's 1500. And you, you look like a winner."
"I'm leaving." Ichigo stands abruptly, pissed beyond all reason that he would have to find another place to drown his sorrows.
"Fine, don't take it, don't even finish listening to what I have to say. You can go back to your little whole in the wall, and contiue to drink until you can forget whatever you're trying to forget. We'll see if you'll still be playing that little tune that you're going on about after you drink all the money that you have left and you need a place to stay and a new way of making money to buy alcohol." He calls out to him. He recognized him. He sees guys like him all of the time. They have nothing to lose, because everything they had, is already lost to them.
And surely, he was right. His words registered with Ichigo, and for a moment, he actually thought about his future. Something that he's been putting off, because for so long, his future was with a girl so beautiful, she was painful to look at, who had broke his heart to the point of his distruction. Without her in his life, he was certain that he had no furture, even more so that he didn't want one.
However, he didn't want to be without alcohol. So he would need money, atleast to keep that flowing.
Abruptly, he turns around and storms back to his booth in which the little, balding man resides.
"These fights, when and where do they happen?"
"Across the street, at 12. Go to the bar ask for me."
"Is tha all?" Ichigo asks.
"That's all."
"Then get out of my fucking booth, before I rip your throat out."
Cyrus throws his head back and laughs loudly. Calming down, he nods his head and gets up, he turns towards the bartender.
"Hey, everything that this man right here orders. Put it on my tab." And with that, he leaves the bar, leaving Ichigo to sulk in his own misery.
oOo
A few days later Ichigo had struggled with himself enough to decide to go to the club and check it out. It was a relief to struggle with something else other than if it was worth getting up in the morning, if she was really gone, or maybe just in the shower, or down stairs.
It was a relief not to be so pathetic.
So when he found himself outside the club, he swallowed his pride and went in. he hasn' been to a club since that night…that night that seems so far away,
But he wouldn't mull over it. He would see what that man was about. He would see if he could make a few bucks tonight and he would be done with it. His curiosity sated and he would put tha whole mess behind him.
But after the first fight, he won. Cyrus handed the 1500, however, he didn't leave. For a first time in a long time, he didn't think about her, she didn't consume his life, and he didn't have to drink to forget about her.
The rush of adrenaline that pumpped viciously through his viens during the fight was addictive. While he was fighting, he was soley focused on the fight, solely focused on winning.
He started back exercising, weight training and discipline. He was drunk less and sober more. He went back to hunting yokai, though on his own, without the help or any information. Regardless, he found them, and he killed them. His life has become an endless cycle of fighting. He was a well oiled machine in arena, and a beast on the darken streets at night.
He couldn't stop the thoughts of her that came unbidden into his mind, that crept into his thoughts and assulted him, confusing him and making him suffer heartbreak all over. However, he felt that he was doing better. He felt that he could finally move on, without her in his life, he will live.
He would forever be broken. There isn't anything that could fix him. A large chunk of him is missing. Gone away from him, far, far away to a place where he can't find, a place where he can't reach.
He will always miss that piece of him.
But he's done living in misery, in depression. He refuses to give anymore to that beast that stole so much from him.
It didn't stop it from taking whatever it wanted from him, at times when he was vulnerable.
It didn't mean that his constant everyday life wasn't bathe in a dreay grey, but it did mean that he wasn't going to be weak anymore.
oOo
She watches him from far away, leaving the home that has become unkempt and seemingy empty.
His hair has grown longer.
She likes that. She's always liked his short spiky hair that was surprisingly soft when she ran her hands through it. He loved it when she would softly scrap her nails against his scalp.
It's been a full year since the events in which set that seperation in motion happened.
She wonders if he knows this.
If he cares.
They've been apart for so long.
He's doing things that are hurting him. He cannot see it, but she can. When she is able to, she watches him. She cannot help herself. She is connected to him, although she severed his connection to her, she kept hers to him. She refuses to release, she cannot. She loves him. She loves him too much and far too deeply.
It pains her to see him in such a destructive state.
The endless fighting and drinking. He rarely eats, and he sleeps most of the day away so that he can fight. When he's not fighting or sleeping or drinking, he's exercising.
She knows that he deluded himself to thinking that he's doing better, but he's not. He's just trading one vice for another and she knows that it is all of her fault. She's done this to him. She allowed him to become this way. He's a shell of his former self. It's as if the man that she knew and fallen in love with no longer existed.
He's only one step away from being those yokai that lives purely on instinct. No feelings, no emotions. He's a macanical being.
She misses his rare smile more than anything. She would give her life to see it once more.
She turns away from him, unable to take the pain of watching him. She's back in the castle. Back in her prison from which she cannot leave. Not that she would want to. How can she go back?
She attacked her sisters, killed members of The Organization, killed his friends, her friends.
The worst thing she's done though, was killing the very piece of him that made him who he was. She destroyed him and that is unforgivable.
She walks to her overized canopy bed that was draped in blood red covers and drapes edged with gold trim. Theres a fire lit in the center of the room, the flickering flames making everything's shadow dance seductivily.
Her heart caves in on itself as it normaly does when she watches him and realizes that she can never be close to him again.
She brings her fist to her chest and presses against it tightly, trying to capture her breath which has escaped her.
Her door swings open and a large gush of wind sweeps through the room, killing the fire, the whole room becomes bathe in darkness and cold.
Her mother stand at the door, the look of pity and disgust clear on her face. She knows what her daughter has been up to. She knows her secrect obession of looking over her lost love.
"I've told you that if you were to do it again. I would make you suffer."
"How can I suffer more that what I already am?"
"My dear sweetheart, there are plenty of ways. I'm only trying to help you. It's been months and you can barely conjur a fire. It's because you're still holding on to him that you're not able to do more."
"Really? I thought it was because a caged birds are normally unable to fly."
"Do not give me that. Remember, you came to me of your own volition, I did not force you."
"My greatest mistake." She whispers to herself. Her mother's keen ears hears her.
"My dear I'm sure that you have plenty of other great mistakes in your life." She looks at her daughter, drawing her into herself, making her remember her every mistake.
Absorbing Ichigo's power, not going to help when she needed, killing her brother.
She faces them bravely, knowing that if she caved to them, her mother would only be triumphant. Her mother smiles, slightly proud that she has the gall to stand up to her. There were so few who did, and they were normally dealt with.
"Are you one day going to show me somehting that I don't know? I know that I am weak and that my mistakes have caused those around me, even me great pain. You cannot hold that against me anymore."
"I am not holding it against you, I'm trying to get you to use their pain as strenght."
She looks away from her mother, out the window of the blood red sky. She would leave this place if she could. She never wanted to see her mother again. She didn't know that she was capable of hate, but she is and she hates her mother. This entire town is filled with nothing but death and false happiness. If any one of her citizens becomes unhappy in any way, three black horses appears to them. The unhappy citizen is tied to the horses and they are drugged throughout the city to the city edges. And whatever remains of them is left on the edges. As a remainder that you cannot leave, that you cannot want to leave.
It's a horrible place to live. She's seen countless people die, or cower before her mother, their undeserving queen.
She wonders how so many people have come to this place. Why there are still citizens, living in this eternal hell.
Like a devious spider, she lures them with a beautiful paradise, and once they are ensnared in her web of deception, they are here forever.
She hears of sceram of pure, undulated torture ringing out, cutting clear through the silent night.
Someone has become unhappy.
It kills her to hear those cries, to know that there isn't anything that she can do to stop them. She looks to her mother.
"Please, have mercy." She begs of her, like she does everytime. "They have the right to live."
"Life is for those who know how to live. And mercy is for the weak."
"I am certain that someone showed you mercy once."
"They did." Her eyes becomes hard. Harder than they were before. "And now they are dead."
