Painting Flowers
Viva la Viveca
Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach. Don't own the song Painting Flowers by All Time Low.
Summary: The world seems so confusing when you lose the one you love the most. Songfic.
Strange maze, what is this place?
(I hear voices over my shoulder)
Nothing's making sense at all.
Wonder, why do we race?
(When everyday we're runnin' in circles)
Such a funny way to fall
Byakuya sighed softly. It had only been weeks since she had left him. His precious Hisana, gone forever. Yet despite the fact it had only been a month without her, it felt like he had lived a thousand lifetimes. He was a captain. He had duties to his division and to his family name. There was also that promise he made to Hisana, but he just didn't have the willpower to go and search for some girl who may or may not want to be found, or may not even be alive.
Everyday mundane tasks he normally preformed with ease were getting harder as the days passed, his grief weighing on his heart heavier than any stack of paperwork they could ever conjure up for him. He did it though. If anything he poured himself into his work, trying to forget her pretty smile, the soft tinkling of her laughter, the way she felt in his arms after a night of passion.
Some days it felt like it was all just a nightmare he would wake up from; if he could only manage to open his eyes and look down he'd see her curled up at his side snoozing with her head on his chest. If she would just shake him awake, then everything would be alright. This was far too long and painful to be a dream though. More than a few times he had pinched himself to check. One particularly bad day he asked Ukitake to slap him. Ukitake gave him a kind smile and reasoned with him.
The memories were always there, it mattered not the task at hand. It was worse at night, part of the reason he developed a habit of walking at night. Laying in that room where they had spent so many nights together was too difficult. Some nights he cried, not that anyone ever heard. If they did they pretended not too, and he didn't care enough to track down anyone that might. Some nights he would walk for hours until the sun came up, then just come home and dress for the day. Either way he didn't sleep.
Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright.
When I wake up,
the dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face
and know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you.
Everyone thought him cold and heartless before, but they always caught that glimpse of happiness that was in his eye before her death. Now he seemed even more distant. Still a perfect mask of emotionless aristrocrat, only marred by the dark circles under his eyes. No one commented though, it was to be expected after all. The man just lost his wife, and no noble married a woman from the Rukongai for anything less than love, especially with so many women available in the Seireitei with much better blood in them, all of which were ready to throw themselves at your feet.
But no one argued the marriage except for his clan, who were simple a small roadblock in the end. They accepted the marriage, and moved on. Byakuya felt his grandfather might have had something to do with it, but he never mentioned it. No one did.
Holdin' my clutch,
Even my heart,
(Wish we could start all over)
Nothing's makin' sense at all
Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright
He felt so lost without her. The spot on his bed where she used to lay felt so cold and empty, almost like his world was starting to feel. He vowed never to let another into his heart, he didn't want this pain anymore. As hard as the nobleman worked to block it out of his mind and heart, it was just as much as a physical problem as it was anything else. He felt like it would never go away, like it would always lurk there, unwanted.
Eventually he managed to perfect his mask again. He started to sleep. In another unrelated room, where dreams didn't come unbidden, where there were no memories of her that he could recall. The dark under his eyes disappeared, the work didn't take so much effort. Life seemed normal. He felt the worst was over.
When I wake up,
the dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face
and know I made it home
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you;
I am still painting flowers for you.
Then he saw her one day. She was the very spitting image of his beloved wife. She could have easily have been a clone of Hisana, if not for her temper and a bit of rough language that he could never picture his precious Hisana ever using. There she stood, arguing with some red-headed student over their lunch break, her eyes alive with energy. Eyes that burned brightly, much like her sister's had before she fell ill. Byakuya did what he promised Hisana. He talk to his grandfather and adopted her just a few days after seeing her. She was so energetic, but she tried so hard to be proper, to act like a noble lady and try to catch his favor.
It was a lost cause though. His nights had become restless again. He could hardly look her in the face in fear of breaking down. When they spoke he stared at some point above her head if he needed to look at her at all, and most of the times he just avoided her, citing his duties as an excuse. Obviously it was a good one, as at the time Hollows started attacking left and right. He spent few nights at the manor at all, mostly staying in the barracks with his men in case of an emergency.
The dreams still came, her face triggering his memories of the dead woman he loved. He tried not to blame her, even though Hisana would have lived longer, maybe even never gotten sick in the first place, had she not been determined to find the girl. When those cruel thoughts seeped into his conscious, he shook them away and focused himself on paperwork, training, or his newest hobby, calligraphy.
Using these simple maneuvers, his life went on comfortably with few incidences. He didn't cry ever again, and eventually the only time he was truly miserable was on the anniversary of their wedding and the anniversary of her death. Years passed quickly.
I heard everything you said,
I don't wanna lose my head!
The order came. Rukia Kuchiki. Execution. Crime, giving a human her powers.
He didn't know what to think the first few hours after he received the news. At first: "Was her crime really so horrible? All because of a stupid human boy?"
Then: "She's dishonored the family name, I will never get help trying to get her out of this mess."
And after that: "I promised never to break the rules again. This is her fate for her crime."
And finally: "Hisana, help me."
When I wake up,
the dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face
and know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you.
I am still painting flowers for you.
I am still painting flowers for you
----
AN: Sorry, just feeling a bit depressed. And I like the dedication that he has for Hisana, despite everything he goes through and the internal dilemmas. This was inspired by one of my new favorite song off of the Almost Alice soundtrack! I haven't seen the movie but I'm loving the music off the soundtrack, and it might inspire a few other things. There might be a few others like this actually. I miss doing songfics a bit. My songfics are always one-shots. =3 maybe the next one will be connected to Sweet Dreams or something?! Read, Review and Receive teh Love of teh Vive!