Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.
Dedicated to Pegy (aka Mare). For flying with me.
– ¤
pixie dust
––
one: poppies
(imagination, eternal rest, oblivion)
Long, long ago fairies lived in our mind. Along with other mystical creatures, they were often depicted as beautiful beings with mesmerizing wings, billowing hair, enthralling eyes reflecting starry skies, smiles matching the sunshine.
Over centuries, their existence waned as the human mind grew stronger. They forsook superstition, pursuing what was right before their eyes, neglecting to acknowledge what couldn't be seen. Beliefs clashed, reasons challenged, fairies and their fellow mystical creatures began to fade when human's belief in them disappeared. Soon, these otherworldly creatures were trapped in nonexistent worlds called fairytales.
However, just because humans refused to believe that the creatures were there, it didn't mean they never existed.
It didn't matter whether they were visible, lived alongside us, or you believed in them or not.
Because they were still there, a shadow of our ignorance.
–
Eyelashes fluttering open, dark eyes roll down lazily, and a voice escapes her cherry lips in a deliberate drawl; "It's my nap time now. Why are you here?"
The person in question pulls orange strands of hair behind her ear, gazing up at her with soft yet determined eyes. "The Queen has requested of your presence."
The dark haired girl doesn't restrain her annoyance; a groan punctuates the still, afternoon air. When the orange-haired woman doesn't make any sign of leaving – just standing there, staring at her with trained patience – the girl finally sits up, red leaves rustling and bouncing in the small makeshift hurricane as she hops down, leaving her bed.
"I thought I could get some rest, or something. And the Queen… never actually does anything. Just eating candies and cakes."
The citrus-haired girl shoots her a look of disapproval, swiveling on her heels, starting for the exit. "Don't speak like that of the Queen. Besides, it's not like we can do whatever we can here. Our job is to lead the dead to eternal rest, and we're obliged to do it. Let's go, Karin."
Another sigh. The raven haired girl shakes her head, mumbling as she follows the older woman, the sound of their flapping wings soon pervading the calm afternoon.
–
Fairies guided wandering souls to eternal rest; illusive and beautiful, they implanted contentment and hopes inside their preys' hearts, subduing their struggle to haunt the earth by showing mirage, sweet, white lies.
The living would never know of their existence. Because the dead kept their secrets to the grave.
–
Dim, yellow light glows in the late afternoon shower, cuddling the mellow evening in paradoxical rendezvous. Verdant stalks bend in the breeze, rustling as a figure lands. A moment later she walks silently through the grass. The yellow bulbs – adjacent to each other – line up on her sides, as if making a pathway for her.
Trees thin, iridescent beams fall upon a clearing which is occupied by an exquisite throne; lavishly decorated in white and fuchsia ribbons, kaleidoscopic lights spraying, swirling around it. On the oversized throne, a petite girl with pink hair sits; a huge box of candies and cookies in her embrace, as her tiny fingers dig into the sea of multi-hued sweets.
"Fairy no.26, Karin."
Karin rolls her eyes in the direction of the authoritative voice, where a woman adjusts her glasses and stares down at a pile of papers.
"You're assigned to escorting someone to his place today."
Meanwhile, the pink haired girl keeps eating her sweets raucously, heedless to other two.
Karin glances at the petite female, expelling a sigh, before diverting her attention to the woman with the glasses again. "Fine. Give me the data."
The dark haired woman hands Karin a paper.
She glances down at it, the unfamiliar name.
Karin shrugs and flies away; the smell of dying souls somehow sweet, almost sugary in her mouth.
The sky is now illuminated, incandescent as if fire has lit up the whole firmament. And she soars higher and higher, welcoming the bright spheres falling from the sky, ever so freely, like meteor shower.
–
They called this guiding process a game. A game that would be tainted with twisted truth and white lies, false contentment and deceptive hopes.
A game that would begin as soon as the stranger's name was spoken.
–
The paper read: Hitsugaya Toushirou.
–
Outside, he sees all shades of blue – cerulean and azure and aquamarine and indigo – flashing into blurs, white specks trailing behind them, racing and chasing each other in their haphazard circus.
Then, a loud voice booms in his ears.
"We require the passengers to remain seated and calm; everything is going to be okay—"
Frantic shrieks, desperate screams fill the suspended air.
Contrasting the occurring chaos, he remains impassive. In the inside, he lets the irony wash over him like acid rain; bitter and sharp and mockingly true.
Nothing's going to save them – no knight in shining armor, no angels, no savior, no miracle.
Of course everything is not going to be okay.
Another shake, and everything seems to break away; cataclysm is just around the corner, its dark claws clambering around their victims' necks.
And they aren't flying anymore.
–
When a human met his demise, everything around him would become vividly alive.
He remembered every second of it, as if everything had been nailed to his mind. And his head was throbbing as he savored the details – the burning smell, the clanking metal, the frantic screams, the rumble of failed engine, and after that they weren't flying anymore; the blue sky seemed to lunge forward, gravity pulling them in.
And before darkness completely took over, the only logical thing coming to his mind was: he was going to die.
And then, all was devoured by endless abyss.
–
He lies motionless on the ground.
He has lost track of time. He feels so peaceful somehow; it's so quiet, there's no pain, and he feels… oddly contended. The repose feels almost too blissful, and he just wants to sleep and let the exhaustion go away. He just wants to lie there forever, forget everything.
"Hey."
He fights the urge to open his eyes.
A female voice.
He keeps his eyes shut, ignoring it. It sounded distant, as if coming from far away. Maybe he was imagining it.
But something is now tugging at his hand, breaking his equanimity.
He muffles a groan and remains stationary, but it only makes the tug stronger and stronger.
"How long are you planning to lie there, seriously?" The voice speaks again, this time closer, irritated.
Giving in, he finally opens his eyes (because the tug and the voice are becoming unbearable), and he finds himself staring at a pair of midnight eyes, dark locks of hair falling down, obscuring her face.
The only logical thing he does is blink.
The raven haired girl draws away and places her hands on her hips; her ruby, translucent wings twinkling and jingling behind her. A smirk dances across her lips.
"Took you long enough, huh. Good morning, sleepy head."
– ¤
& tbc.
––
a/n: I decided I didn't like the intro of pixie dust I'd posted yesterday, so I rewrote some parts and added new things, in hopes it would give a clearer vision of the universe and the general idea. However, I can't replace chapter one with this, as it will confuse those who have read the previous intro, so I repost this again. Sorry for the confusion.
I need to write something else between my Momentum updates, so here it is; yet another TouRin, this time AU. (Besides, this idea has been bugging me for quite a while, so.) I promise you'll see more TouRin-ness soon enough (and some fluffiness, perhaps?). Suggestions/opinions are very much welcomed, so please leave a review. Until the next chapter!
– Ryfee