A/N: Hello all and welcome to my story! I know some of you may be wondering why I chose a Nirvana song for the title. I can assure you, this is not a song-fic, or anything like that. There are two theories about why Tite Kubo decided to name his anime Bleach, one of them being that he named it after a Nirvana album and since I (much like Tite Kubo) enjoy Nirvana, I decided to name this fanfiction after a Nirvana song! I am going to keep the reason for choosing this particular song a secret, but don't worry, all shall be revealed soon! :)
Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticsm is and will always be welcomed!
Also, I'm not going to waste my time or yours by including some sort of disclaimer about how I don't own Bleach. Obviously I don't own Bleach. If I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, I would be writing the show.
Enjoy! :)
I sucked air in between my teeth so sharply that the whistling could be heard throughout the room. Last time, you can do this. One and done. I extended my leg out, pointed my toes, and...fell flat on the floor.
I released the breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding and slammed a fist on the ground. Thankfully, all my instructors and colleagues had gone home for the remainder of the evening so they weren't forced to bear witness to my shameful endeavor. I rested my face on the floor. I'm too tense. I could feel the muscles in my face tugging into a frown. Pressing my face into the cool wood of the floor I exhaled slowly once more. At this point in the game, tense should be my middle name. There were only six months left until I debuted my senior showcase and I had almost no progress to show for it.
Even more frustrated I sat back up, slowly relaxing my tense muscles as I prepped for another run. I snapped open my two fans and placed myself into starting position, with my left hand placed just above my face with the fan dangling over my features and my right hand posed underneath it, fan extended. Taking another deep breath, in a desperate effort to calm myself down, I began.
As I danced, swirling my fans around my body, I searched deep for the purpose behind my motions. Since this dance was silent, I was relying solely on body language and facial expressions to communicate my intentions to the audience. The idea behind the senior showcase was to create a final series of pieces that demonstrated how you've grown as an artist. I was trying (and failing) at demonstrating how I had first begun to dance. My first taste of the art came to me when I was ten years old, first beginning my training as a fledgling miko.
Part of my daily duties (besides cleaning the shrine) was to practice ceremonial dance in preparation for important rituals. After that, I devoured any type of dance I could get my hands on. My favorite by far, was ballet. With each plie I mastered, I fell in love. My family considered it a little too Western for their tastes, but it mattered not to me. So the first part (and by far the easiest to choreograph) was a more traditional dance and then from there it evolved (or devolved if you were my Grandpa) into classical ballet.
It was just that damn transition that I couldn't get down. I flourished my hand once more, bringing my fans forward, flipping one, catching it and closing them. I was nearing my last pose. I breathed in deeply, I could feel the sweat pooling on my forehead. I lifted my leg high above my head, higher, higher, almost there. Now! I threw myself off my axis and began to spin into a series of foutes. It was in the midst of these foutes that I would conclude my transformation into a modern college student. I envisioned myself throwing away my fans and tossing off my robes.
Wait.
My robes.
Shit! Ojiisan! And with that last thought in mind, my concentration broke, as did my fluidity, which sent me reeling forwards onto the floor. On my face. Excellent. I groaned audibly. I had forgotten that I was supposed to be meeting with my Grandpa to practice meditation and cleansing. I looked down at my watch. If I sprinted the two miles back to the shrine, I would only be ten minutes late. And only two limbs short. I smirked at the thought. Boy, was I going to get it.
I blazed through the streets of Tokyo barefoot, not even bothering to put my shoes back on. I loved the feeling of my barefeet slapping on the concrete. Nearly twenty minutes later, I was only five minutes late. I bowed beneath the ornate Torii. Seeing no sign of Ojiisan I offered a silent thank you to the Gods. It would seem that he was late as well. Maybe I could just sneak in right around the…
"-TSUKIKO! Does punctuality mean nothing to you?!" A gruff voice bellowed from behind me. I turned around flinching. Busted. I bowed deeply to my Grandpa, head priest of our family shrine.
"Hai, Ojiisan, I'm sorry I was late, practice ran-"
"I care not for pathetic excuses from a tardy miko!" Ojiisan snapped his fan shut...on the back of my head. I stood up rubbing the tender spot on the back of my head.
"Furthermore, how dare you dishonor our ancestors by parading out in public in that!" He thumped the fan against my head again. It was only then that I realized my disheveled appearance. I had sprinted through the streets of Tokyo wearing only my skin tight black leotard, and leg warmers. Shit! If there was one thing Ojiisan hated worse than tardiness, it was immodesty. The scantily clad dance attire that ballet dancers were routinely ordered to wear just gave my Grandpa another reason to hate it all the more.
"Get out of my sight and don't return until you are properly dressed and bathed! Honestly child, you stink. How can we hope to commune with the spirits when your smell is scaring them off?" Ojiisan turned on his heel and stalked off.
"Uh-oh, I think someone's upset," a serene voice echoed off from my right. I didn't need to turn, I already knew who it was. Hachiko-dono and my Aunt exited one of the storage rooms, their kimonos swirling about their legs gracefully. My aunt was carrying several large boxes of mismatched size.
"Obasan, please allow me," I ran up to her, sheepishly (I was after all, mostly naked). My aunt stifled a giggle as I relieved her of her parcels.
"Sounds like someone's late again," Obasan smiled. Her father had luckily raised her to be much more forgiving than he was.
"Hai, I was working on my senior showcase and I lost track of time."
"Oh my, senior showcase? Setsuka-san, doesn't that just sound lovely. I wish I could attend, I do so love to see you dance, miko-chan," Hachiko-dono said crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Hai Hachiko-dono, I would love for you to be there as well, but since you're unable, perhaps I can give you a special performance when it's ready!" I said setting the boxes down.
"Yes," Obasan said ruffling my hair, "I'm sure Hachi-dono and the others would love that."
"Maybe after Tsukiko-chan's recital we can talk again about crossing over, Hachiko-dono," Obasan rested her hand on Hachiko's shoulder, or what would have been her shoulder.
"Perhaps we shall," Hachiko-dono flashed me a coy smile and wink, as she straightened one of the many layers of kimono she always wore.
See, Hachiko wasn't really there, at least not in the sense that my aunt and I are. To the family, she was as physical a presence as any other person, but to an outsider, she was invisible, and that's because Hachiko was dead. And had been, by the looks of her clothing, for a long time. Hachiko-san's spirit was one of the first I was able to see, back when I was first coming into my spiritual powers. I believe I was three. My Obasan had been communing with her for much longer, and as was her mother before her. We weren't sure who Hachiko-dono was in her previous life, but judging by the many layers of expensive kimono and ornate headpieces she wore it was safe to say that it was somebody important. Ojisan was of the mind that she was of imperial blood, which isn't such a lofty accusation considering our shrine had once been part of the royal court.
High spiritual awareness was something that our family was gifted with. When I was a child, this used to frighten me. Sometimes spirits would present themselves to me, expecting help, but as a toddler, I was obviously in no position to come to their aid. The spirits would then grow more and more persistent as their souls became more and more restless. Then of course, there were always those spirits too. The bad ones. The ones with vengeance and malice so deep in their soul, it swallowed them up, consuming everything in its path. I used to see those a lot as well, but not so much anymore.
Nobody in my family could really tell me why that was. Ojiisan attributed it to his fantastic (sarcasm) and rigorous (unfortunately accurate) training regimen he had implemented after my tenth birthday. Obasan had her own theory, much to her father's chagrin. She believed it was the spirit of my departed parents, laying a watchful eye on me. Whatever the case, I was just glad I didn't have to deal with it anymore. It had been twelve years of peace and quiet and for that I was thankful.
"What's in the boxes, Obasan?" I asked.
"Nothing that you should concern yourself with right now, I think it best that you leave this for Hachiko-san and myself and go ready yourself for your studies."
I suppressed an audible sigh as I bowed to the ladies and wished them goodnight. Ojiisan was in some kind of mood tonight, and the way things were looking, his temperament was most likely not going to be improving anytime soon.
Much to my dismay, I ran through my shower quickly. Although every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to soak in our tub, I knew that further delaying my training would just piss Ojiisan off even more than he already was.
Tying the last sash of my hakama, I slipped on my tabi socks, and sandals and all but sprinted to our main shrine house. I paused outside the door, smoothing my red locks so that they fell in soft waves around my face. Ojiisan despised an unkempt appearance. Taking a deep breath, I pried open the screen. Wordlessly I bowed low to both the fire and my Grandpa. Ojiisan sat in front of the roaring fire a serene look on his otherwise grumpy features. I couldn't help but notice how young he looked without his characteristic frown deepening the lines of his cheeks.
"Ah, Tsukiko-chan, thank you for gracing us with your presence," he snapped an eye open, swiveling it in my direction. "Sit."
I stifled a yawn as I assumed seiza next to my Grandpa. Meditation was always most difficult when the body was exhausted. But if I fall asleep again Ojiisan will have my head! I flinched as the memory of our last session came to mind.
"Now, miko, please center yourself and breathe with me…" Ojiisan's voice trailed off, as he punctuated his words with a loud inhalation. I followed suit.
It was not long before I drifted into a tranquil state. As I breathed, I could feel myself slipping through the rings of consciousness. Deeper...and deeper...and deeper still, until I took my final breath and opened my eyes to reveal myself. I had finally landed into my inner world and it was beautiful.
It was serene in a way that the city of Tokyo often was not. A large ornate palace rose out of the darkness. Much of the palace's details were not able to be revealed to me in the inky night, but from what I did observe it seemed to be a classic feudal Japanese palace, with high sloping roofs and columns fashioned from the finest wood.
Just like all my visits, I was seated in the seiza position (a proper miko indeed, eh Ojiisan?) in what appeared to be one of the palace's gardens. I say "appeared" because I am not really sure. Usually, I was unable to move. I was only able to maintain this level of consciousness for several minutes, which was a decided improvement from my first few visits.
The stars were as bright as ever. I traced the blinking constellations with my eyes. Although this world provided no light, it was never dark or scary. The stars and the moon beamed down bright enough to illuminate much of the surrounding grass tickled my bare feet. Wait bare now there's a change. Usually along with the paralysis, I was numb to this world. I wonder…
I took several deep breaths and willed my littlest toe to move. Reluctantly it obeyed. I tried again, this time with the other foot. I was met with success there as well. Next I tried to move my fingers. Unfortunately that's where I lost it. I bid the night goodbye as I watched the last of the stars being snuffed out as I fell out of my unconscious world.
I was thrust into reality with a start. I looked over at the silent man next to me. "Ojiisan! Ojiisan!" I yelled grasping his shoulder!
"Good gracious child, what is it?" My Grandpa gasped as I jolted him out of his meditative state.
"I did it! I did it!" I leapt out of the seiza position in excitement.
"What did you find my child?" Ojiisan's usually gruff voice held a hint of excitement.
"Well, nothing yet, but I was able to move my extremities a little bit!"
While Ojiisan didn't appear to be as thrilled as I was, it was still enough to soften his demeanor. "Excellent miko-chan, now sit. Today we read the flames." Although my aching joints complained, I reluctantly settled back into seiza on the mat next to him.
"With posture that is becoming of a priestess, please," He quipped. I sighed loudly, straightening my back.
"Ojiisan?"
"Yes, miko-chan,"
"Do we have to? Last time I singed my hai-"
Before I could finish he interjected, "Do not attempt to shirk off your duties! You've spent enough time avoiding the flames."
I let out another hefty sigh. If he heard it, he didn't acknowledge it.
"Are you centered?"
"Hai, Ojiisan."
"Let us begin."
I sucked in another large breath of air as the heat from the flames licked my face.
We began the ritual by calling on the first word of power, "Rin!" I made the first sign. The other's quickly followed, "Pyou, tou, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai, zen!" I was surprised by how surely my hands moved through the movements. Usually that was the part that I always botched. I flicked the final hand sign and exhaled. The flames roared to life. I gazed deeply into the fire, not expecting much, and that's when I saw it.
Images danced across my eyes: A bed, a splash of crimson, slate gray eyes, and a face frozen in the middle of a scream. The images danced faster and faster now across the back of my eyelids, until they were running together on a loop.
A bed, a splash of crimson, slate gray eyes, and a face frozen in the middle of a scream. I was no longer at the temple.
A bed, a splash of crimson, slate gray eyes, and a face frozen in the middle of a scream. I was...on a bed.
A bed, a splash of crimson, slate gray eyes, and a face frozen in the middle of a scream. I was bleeding, and I was the face screaming as the slate gray eyes cut through the darkness. They held so much pain. A bed, a splash of crimson, slate gray eyes, and a face frozen in the middle of a scream...
"AAAAAH. MAKE IT STOP!" I thrust the palms of my hands into my eye sockets. My whole body began to involuntarily quake.
"Evil spirit, be exorcised! Akuryō Taisan!"
My body dropped in a heap on the mat, almost as if I were a puppet with her strings cut. I was vaguely aware of cool hands lifting me up and then a soft wind caressing my face as I was carried away from the shrine and into the main house.
"Setsuka! A cold cloth please!" Ojiisan threw open the door to our house and carried me to the sofa.
"What's the matter! What's happened?" I could hear Obasan's voice take on a more shrill tone, a tone I had not heard her use since my parents passing. I wanted to reassure her that I was alright, but I didn't have the strength. My eyelids were heavy with the images I had seen, and although it was not my wish for them to close, that's what they did.
"Sleep now Tsukiko-chan, that's my girl...sleep…"
That night, I dreamt in shades of red. It was opaque. I was powerless against it. The only thing I could do was chase after a pair of gun metal gray eyes, but try as I may, I never caught up to them.