Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. I just write these for fun.
Author's Notes: Written for Spring Kink on Livejournal. The first piece of Shounen-ai I've ever written. I hope you enjoy. I LOVE this pairing so much! I think they're very sweet together. Also note that I use Japanese formalities (where the surname is first given name is second) and suffixes such as; -chan, -san, -sama, -dono, etc.
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Scars. These are the things we carry with us that remind us of our mistakes or how far we've come. Some people carry only a few, others carry many and there are the lucky few that have none at all. Some people's scars are heavier than others and they walk with a slump to their shoulders and a desperate sadness in their eyes. Others hide their scars from the world and fake the smiles and laughter so that no one can see how badly they've been injured.
Scars… We all have them, the giant millstones that hang from our necks, weights that we can never be free from. All we can do is find some way to ease the burden of our sins.
Hisagi Shuuhei put down the pen and closed his journal. He touched his face where three thin stripes marked him; the reminder of a heavy mistake that he bore the weight of in his soul. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Every night he saw their faces in his dreams, the ones he'd let down…
"Kanisawa. Aoga." He whispered their names, asking for forgiveness. Many years have passed, but still he carries the weight of their deaths around his neck like a chain.
Outside the window, the sun was setting and Shuuhei stood up and stretched. He'd completed his duties for the day, stacks of reports stood in neat piles at the corners of his desk and the latest edition of the Seireitei Communicator had been proofed and approved. Standing in the receding patch of red sunlight, he tried to shake the gloom from his head. "If I keep this up, I'll become as depressed as Izuru," he muttered to himself.
The war was over and the truth of the deep betrayal by Aizen, Gin and Tousen had been revealed to all of Soul Society, but this did nothing to assuage the guilt in Shuuhei's heart. It only seemed to deepen the wound and make it raw again. The Winter War had only added new scars and closed the door on any hope he had that Captain Tousen would return.
Muscles strained and ached as he stretched again. He had sparred earlier that day with Renji before assuming his duties as acting commander of the 9th Division and spending all that time at his desk had made him tense and stiff. Feeling the need to relax, Shuuhei left the squad office for the night and went down to the bath house for a steam and a long soak.
This late in the evening, most other Shinigami were at a tavern or in their barracks, and the bath house was usually pretty empty. Shuuhei liked to come this time of day for just that reason. He could relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. He stripped down and wrapped a towel around his waist; the steam room was calling to him. Perhaps after that he would take a long soak to ease his tired muscles.
At first he thought the room was empty, but when he saw his fellow fukutaichou, Kira Izuru, Shuuhei's mind wandered back to his journal. Scars. Izuru-san has so many scars, just like me, he thought. If anyone needed to lighten their burden, it was Izuru.
Shuuhei sat down on the bench next to Izuru, the blond man hadn't heard him enter; if he did then he gave no indication of it. Before he spoke, Shuuhei took a good look at his friend. Izuru's head was back, resting against the wall of the steam room, his blond hair fell over one eye, damp from the condensation in the air it clung to the right side of his delicately featured face. Shuuhei had always liked the way Izuru looked. His face was finely crafted and those heavy lidded blue eyes could send a wave of electric sadness through you with one glance. It made Shuuhei long to take away his friend's pain. Erase the constant despair that furrowed that pale brow.
Lingering for another brief moment on Izuru's face, Shuuhei's gaze traveled down the slope of the slumped shoulders and then to the well muscled torso. He noticed thin white lines across the abdomen and chest that he'd never seen before. Scars. Visible scars too thin to be from battle, too old to be from the war. These lines were numerous and varied in length and size. What could have caused them Shuuhei didn't know until a sickening thought blossomed in his head like a dark and terrible flower. Gin. Could Captain Ichimaru have caused these scars? And how had he never noticed them before? Were there more? More scars on Izuru's body that he couldn't see?
A myriad of emotions filled him, horror, sadness, disgust and hatred of Gin welled up inside him. His hand reached out to trace one of the thin white lines, but he pulled back and let his hand drop into his lap. Izuru's eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head, giving Shuuhei a small smile.
"Ah, Hisagi-san, when did you come in?" Rubbing the back of his head he blinked a few times. "I must have dozed off. Was I asleep long?"
"Erm… I dunno. I just came in a minute ago." Shuuhei picked at the edge of his towel and tried to think of something besides the scars. He'd never noticed them before and now that he had, it was all he could think about. He wanted to ask his friend how he had gotten them, but he didn't want to bring up a painful subject. Shuuhei was sure that any discussion involving former Captain Ichimaru was a painful subject for Izuru.
"Oh. Why didn't you say something?" Izuru asked, those deep blue eyes penetrating.
Shuuhei ran a hand through his hair that was starting to curl and dampen in the humid air. "I… Well you looked so peaceful; I didn't want to disturb you. I just came here to relax a little… You know."
His friend nodded. "You must be quite busy between all the duties of being an acting Captain and being chief editor of the Seireitei Communicator. I haven't even seen you around the tavern."
"Ah, yeah. It's been a challenge to balance everything. I don't even have time to practice my guitar." Shuuhei's tension broke with a smile from Izuru and he momentarily forgot about the scars as the conversation turned towards idle chitchat. "How are things with the 3rd Division?"
Izuru shrugged. "About the same. I think everyone is still recovering."
Shuuhei nodded in sympathy. "I think things are rough all over." He rotated his shoulders trying to ease some of the tension from spending the day hunched over his desk filling out reports.
"Long day of paperwork?" Izuru guessed.
"Yeah. The never ending red tape and bureaucracy."
Scooting closer, Izuru put his hand on Shuuhei's shoulder. "Here, let me help. Lean forward a little bit."
Repositioning himself, Shuuhei let Izuru slip behind him. Having once been a member of the 4th Division Healing Squad, Izuru was skilled in the art of massage and healing kido. He worked Shuuhei's knotted shoulder muscles with intensity. It hurt at first, but as the kinks were slowly removed, Shuuhei found himself relaxing more and more as his body released a surge of endorphins. Izuru worked all the way down his back until Shuuhei was wrapped in a warm fluffy cloud of steam and comfort. When his friend was done, Shuuhei felt light and his eyelids drooped from the contented drowsiness that comes when one is completely at ease.
Izuru's hands were still resting lightly on his shoulders and Shuuhei slumped back against his friend. Izuru stiffened at the sudden contact of skin on skin, but relaxed when Shuuhei emitted a happy sigh. "You're really good at that, Izuru."
"Th-Thanks," he muttered, his face turning red. He didn't know what to do so he sat there awkwardly with Shuuhei in his lap.
Sensing his discomfort, Shuuhei took Izuru's hands and pulled them forward so that he was now being embraced by the blond man. "It's ok."
"What do you mean?" Izuru asked. His voice was so close to Shuuhei's ear that it sent a shiver down his spine.
"The war is over now. And someday these scars we have will fade like a bad dream and all we'll be left with are the good times to look forward to."
Izuru's eyes welled up with tears. Shuuhei's words were so unexpected and comforting. He didn't realize how badly he'd been looking for someone to tell him that it would all be ok until the words were spoken. He buried his face in Shuuhei's shoulder and tightened his embrace on the dark haired man. Shuuhei's hands came up and pressed themselves over his own in a comforting gesture.
"The war was harder for some than others and everyone's wounds will take time to heal. Not just the physical wounds either. The emotional ones are harder to mend." Shuuhei was speaking from experience. Tousen's betrayal still burned in his chest like a bullet ripping away all the dreams and hope that had been instilled in him. He knew how Izuru felt even though their psychological scars were of different natures. Izuru had been used and mistreated by his Captain and he blamed himself for all the damage Ichimaru had caused as if it was his own fault. Shuuhei had been close to Tousen and he revered his former Captain. When he was betrayed it was the most horrible gut wrenching feeling; losing someone he had been so close to.
Shuuhei knew that the scars they carried inside were different but the need for comfort was the same. He turned towards the smaller man and looked into those sorrow-filled eyes. "They'll heal. We'll grow stronger because of these scars," he told Izuru, brushing the hair away from his face so he could see both of those beautiful blue eyes. "These scars can't last forever, Izuru." He whispered before leaning in and placing a kiss on his friend's lips.
"Shuuhei…" Izuru whispered in soft surprise. The kiss was too short, and Izuru wanted more. The sadness inside of him was like a sucking hole that needed to be filled, filled with something other than pain. Shuuhei was offering the kind of comfort he needed. Pulling the other man against him, Izuru kissed him hard, searching for what he desperately needed; reassurance and solace in someone's arms.
This is the way we mend. We try to soften the time, make the scars fade just a little bit with each caress. We have to help each other lighten the burden on our souls…