A/N: So, yeah, this bunny would not leave me alone until I wrote it out, and it all started with the first phrase… Anyway, it's kinda drabble-y and shorter than my usual, but that's just how it came out, and I was positively itching to publish something Bleach. (Please keep in mind that I am not a native English speaker, and point out any errors.)
Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own Bleach, which is the property of Kubo-sensei and I would never claim the opposite. I make no profit from this.
Silence
He'd always liked silence; sought it even.
First, it had been the other kids' whispers and taunts. Later, frolicking ghosts in his room in the middle of the night, his father's ridiculous whining, annoying shinigami only he could see, the Hollow inside his head… all he desired was a moment of peace and quiet. He would loudly swear that his head was going to explode then he'd put on his headphones and drown the world out. It was like everyone made it their personal goal to annoy the hell out of him.
He had thought keeping in mind all the people that are safe now because of him would soothe the sting of losing his power.
He hadn't asked for this life, never pursued it, yet it had always been that way for him, and it was safe to assume that some deity didn't like him at all. Maybe now everything would finally fall into place, in time.
He never thought he'd hate being normal so much.
...
Now he despised silence. This, this silence was stifling, heavy. It felt like the world was mocking him, being a constant reminder that now, he was only a human, just a simple human who couldn't protect anyone. He'd give anything to hear a ghost requesting assistance again, or Zangetsu lecturing him, or Rukia calling him an idiot. Hell, if only he could hear the hollow call him 'King' again…
He didn't know what he'd do if this silence continued. He'd heard people went mad after long periods of silence, cut off from human contact, but he did not know if that applied to him.
How long had it been now anyway? He didn't take note of time anymore… It must be over a year. One year during which the worm of melancholy slowly but surely made its way to his heart. He could see the signs himself. He mostly put up a front of normalcy for his friends, both the ones who knew and those who didn't. He caught himself contemplating the meaning of life, and if there was any meaning in it at all. His marks were near the top too, particularly since he had more free time than ever in his hands. With no spirits to help and no Hollows to purify, every day just blended in with the others, making a pattern that he was sure he would have loathed before. Now he just endured it.
He was starting to question his ability to move on. Scratch that, he knew that he would be haunted by those few months for the remainder of his life. Being a shinigami was intrinsic, like it had been ingrained in his DNA, and losing this power meant losing his true purpose. It was only a matter of time before it became too much.
...
He could almost hear the crack as his spirit was torn to shreds. He didn't know whether it was from betrayal or false hope or despair. This couldn't be happening. It was a nightmare, simply a nightmare, and he would wake up in a minute, powerless maybe, but at least without having experienced the hopelessness of his power fading from his soul for the second time.
The tears were alien, burning, and he could not remember the last time he had cried. The rain, the betrayal, the sword, it was all too much. He could not believe that his father…
And yet, there she was. In a split second, all his previous anguish disappeared, swallowed in that familiar face, and for the first time in a long while he felt as if his soul was sturdy again. He could feel every one of them inside him. Battle-crazy, composed, soothing, icy… The world was making sense again for the first time in seventeen months.
Finally, everything was as it should be. It did not matter what life threw at him next. He now had the power to fight again, and he'd be damned if he let anything stand in his way.
