Guts
The 78th District.
If you'd been born over a cloud and hadn't the most basic inkling as to the affairs of human civilization, that awful number--78--could nevertheless make you sick to your stomach. And your gut, as always, would be right.
There were no mountains or hills nearby, or any elevations to speak of. 78th District rolled flat and uninspiring before its progeny, while the clouds brooded black and lusterless for most of the year. Often I would amble alongside the river, hoping the current would bring any sort of keepsake, or a marker to separate the days. Nothing fantastic. A finger trap. Some dice. Maybe even a friend or two.
I don't remember dreaming before you, Rukia. I don't even remember sleeping much. The fear, I guess, was just too great. Withdrawing into dreams was tempting but perilous. So I spent the nights inventing friends. My left leg couldn't get along with its brother, and my nose was itching to travel the world, if only my face would break open and let it. That I could wiggle my nose was testament enough. The individual strands of my hair, on the other hand, were growing long to keep lookout for me. My hair was red because it was an extension of my soul. I knew my soul was red because my guts were.
I was obsessed with my guts. Or rather, the lack thereof. I felt empty. The one thing that filled that chasm inside me was fear. If I didn't feed my stomach, I fretted, then it would feed on me. Rubbing the skin underneath my ribs only added to the ache. I was just a kid, but every morning I would expect the sky to be blanketed by red--my guts, finally stretched for all to see.
We hadn't come together because we trusted each other. We united because we feared each other, and feared the sole lesson tender to our hearts: "If we are not as one, we shall die."
So how did I come to head a band of rejects, miscreants and thieves?
---
"What, Renji!? So you finally gave yourself a family name!?"
As the moon ducked behind the high branches, occasional puffs of ash provided our blessed distraction from the buzzing of gnats. Agat--whom I knew from the river--was sitting across the fire, staring at me with rapt, watery eyes. When Agat told me he'd named himself, my insides skipped. Not only did I have the right to label and rename, he'd told me, it was my birthright. I'd just been Renji since I acquired language, never daring to wonder why. So my new name was a source of intense pride. But what if Agat didn't like it?
"Oh, have I got a name for you!" I shouted, orating atop a short petrified stump. "And it's a brilliant one too. From now on the people of Soul Society shall refer to me as..."
"As what, Renji!?" egged Agat.
"As... Abarairu!"
A pause, for emphasis.
"Ignore him," muttered Balsa, whose fangs promptly resumed tearing off chunks of moray eel. Balsa's sharp smirk competed against the squirrelliness of his chestnut hair as his body's defining feature. Between bites, he would congratulate himself on his excellent foraging skills, boasting that you could count on Balsa the Brave if you wanted a half-decent meal. "God, Renji, how can you've been able to catch an eel but not a fish?" he snapped, finding my catch less than satisfactory. "I mean, how is that even feasible?"
"I... I don't know..."
"And FIND YOUR OWN DAMN FOOD!" Balsa spat. Snatching three little sturgeons off the grass beside him, he threw Agat a stinging leer. Maybe Balsa isn't as secure with his food as he lets on, I thought. After that I thought: My stomach hurts so much I might die.
"But I'm hungry!" said Agat. "And there's more than enough to pass around!"
"Ain't hardly our fault," sneered Balsa's friend, Rusaka, whom I had not invited. "And you sure don't look like yeh're wanting for food. In fact, you're the fattest idiot I've ever seen."
"Say that again, Rusaka!" Agat's natural girth, to him, served as a source of pride, and a remnant of the parents he was certain had buried an extra pound of flesh within him. He vowed one day to find the parents that had loved him enough to leave him.
"I said, yeh're--"
"Enough," I said, breaking them up. "We don't need this!"
Raku and Isoru, (blank slates like me), sat paralyzed as Rusaka twisted my arm behind me and lunged toward his foe, both hurtling hard against the soil. When they started rolling by the flames, tussling blind and angry, my face blenched white. What have I done? I thought, wringing my rags in my hands. My heart bounced like a rat in a cage, and red beads of swat reflected my red thoughts. The flames!
If ever there was a sentence that I'd realized would snap me from my trance, it wasn't:
"I said, yeh're fat!"
"You morons!" I screamed, and the stone trees echoed my agitation tenfold until the entire clearing fell hush.
Then I said, in an even, controlled voice: "You think I brought you all to the outskirts to squabble or to pummel each other? Apologize to him, Rusaka! If you're lucky, he'll forgive you!"
Crude, but effective.
"Yeh're right, redhead. I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I'd forgotten to add that he's ugly."
"Leave, Rusaka," I bellowed. "Now!"
"D-don't, Renji, he was only joking..." said Balsa. I'm not sure who frightened him more, me or his friend.
Rusaka, predictably, started to square on me, despite the surrounding glares. Once, that glowering might have anchored me with shame, I thought. Nervous, I gripped the boy's hair nigh instinctively, and, thinking quickly (if at all), held his head by the bonfire.
"See that, Rusaka? Scary, isn't it?" I heard myself say. "This is what hate looks like. No satisfaction. No rewards. Only burning. Of course, if you weren't such a punk, you would never have had to humiliate yourself like this!"
The tinkling noise and calamitous smell that issued from his newly drenched pants triggered peals of laughter amongst us. Mercifully, I chased him away brandishing a burning stick and turned to address my loyal recruits.
"My name is Abarai Renji," I said, squeezing the shoulders of each comrade as I paced our noble ring. "It's a name you should all commit to memory, because it contains a piece of you. I picked that name after my new family."
"Wait, I thought it was Abarai-ru," grinned Agat, who was wiping the crud off his nose.
"It was, until I thinned our number--'A' for you, Agat, 'Ba' for Balsa..."
"...'Ra' for Raku and 'I' for Isoru," finished Balsa.
Isoru emitted a rarest squeak. She had been acknowledged.
"But I kind of liked Abarai-ru," I said, looking at her. Paler than when I met her last, I remember thinking, but it didn't trouble me too much. I was flush with victory. "Our first mission: Hunt and recruit someone whose name starts with Ru!"
The three boys raised their fists in the air and whooped their approval. We laughed and laughed until the embers faded and dawn broke over. Agat, Balsa, Raku, me and Isoru-- not even the pesterment of moths could distract us from that moment together.
---
Isoru, unfortunately, fell ill shortly after. Don't worry about missing out on her company; by the time she died she'd never uttered a single word. We were forced to honor her by likewise keeping our lips closed about her.
Not three weeks after that night, we'd found another Ru. You won't believe this, but... I actually lacked the guts to add your name to mine. As though afraid it might contaminate you. I know, it's weird. But your name was too beautiful; beautiful because it was yours. I couldn't strip it from your bones like some empty beast. I had to be stronger than my hunger.
"Rukia... Can I ask you something?"
Thanks for bearing with me. I've never really talked this much about myself with anyone. It feels... nice, for once. Is there something you'd like to get off your chest?
You were always the silent type.
I'm not being mushy.
I'm not!
What do you mean, I look dopey when I smile!?
Look who's talking, little miss sleeve of white snow!
All right, maybe I am a tad sentimental. It's nothing I can't help, though! Look at my Soul Slayer--jagged but handsome. Just like me.
Now that I'm stopping to think about things... You were my perfect foil, weren't you? If ever I was mouthing off about one thing or another, your simple proximity would be enough to cool my head. When I was training, you were the only person who could break my concentration; I would drop everything when you needed me. In return, I kept depression from swallowing everyone whole with my... what do you call them? God, what's the word... Flights of fancy? Thanks, Rukia. I was thinking more inspired leadership.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure the group would have ground to a halt without either of us!
Yeah. The moon does look big tonight.
Hold my hand, won't you?
I'm not sentimental, dammit.
---
I slammed the scroll so hard against the wall I could feel the splinters trace dots of blood down my knuckles. My sunglasses clattered to the floor, guided hotly by tears. It was all I could do not to crush them.
I failed the test.
No, I blinked: I'm the failure.
Eighteen multiple choice missed. Four short answer. One question short of passing.
I was so scared, Rukia, out of my mind scared. You'd helped me study at great personal expense, when I told you it was hopeless for me... together we'd trained so hard... and all for nothing.
NOTHING! my brain blared, my lips unequal to utterance.
I slumped in the shadowed corner of my dorm and hung my head and closed my eyes and thought What will she say when she finds out I failed?
Nothing. She would say nothing.
Nothing, o loneliest and most feral of numbers. Nothing was lower than nothing. Nothing was tying knots inside of me. Nothing was my destiny.
Besides you, nothing was all I could think about. So imagine how many times I blinked when I heard you knocking at the door.
"Renji," the door implored. "It's me. I need to talk to you."
Oh no, I thought. She's already found out! Half of my froze white and dead. The other half burned deep scarlet: Open up! Answer her!
"Are you... Renji, are you there?"
Your voice struck off serene as any star. At that moment I didn't imagine it could contain a chord of distress, because I myself was shaking violently. I seized my sword close to my side, to my heart, strained my eyes and grunted.
"...Of course he's not there, baka. He must be celebrating with his squad. Stupid... Well, if you're in there--showering or something--I'll be going for a walk, all right?"
I listened as your footsteps receded down the hallway. When the last atom of your reiatsu dissipated, I let out a breath and didn't know I'd been holding. There was something off about the cadence of your steps. And hadn't you heard me just then? I levered myself back on my feet using the sword and bolted out the door, one thought playing over and over: She needs me.
A soft, spindly illumination, shed by hell butterflies airing their wings atop their hell lampposts, granted the academy grounds a soft, snowlike dreaminess. On nights like these, it was difficult not to want to fly. Without my sunglasses on, everything looked a whole lot clearer. I rushed towards where the butterflies pointed like an arrow, dragging by your passing spirit energy. It was a question I had flunked on the exam, but for some reason I didn't mind anymore. You needed me.
It took a couple of hours to find you, but find you I did.
Your black hakama shone lined with the moon's silver. You were dropping coins into a bird fountain, your pensive expression arresting, your face nearly skimming the water.
"Hah? Renji!"
First you clutched at your heart, leaning against the bird fountain for support, your pretty round eyes gazing up into mine, then you jumped up and hugged me. "You scared me half to death, you idiot! I thought you were one of the nightwatch..."
"You don't need to worry about them," I smiled as warmly as I could muster. "The way you walk, you'd outstrip the fastest ones without breaking a sweat. I'm seriously impressed you came this far in such a short space of time. You even got your sword released..."
"Fast, am I?" you quipped, eyes rolling even as I picked you up in my arms and started to make our way out of the park back to the academy. "Even if that's true, I'm nowhere near as fast as you are strong. I bet when you release your sword, it'll be the most powerful I've ever seen... except for nii-sama's, of course."
"I'm sorry, Rukia." I couldn't put it off anymore. "So sorry."
"What are you talking about," you simpered. "It's not your fault I failed."
I stopped in my tracks.
"Y-you failed?"
"One answer short of passing."
I couldn't help but laugh then. I must have looked like a lunatic, howling under a moon so full. "I-I was so certain I was the only one who failed!"
"You mean you failed too? I thought for sure that you'd gone partying with the rest of your squad."
"Small world, huh?"
"Small world," you agreed.
I could see the hell butterflies ushering our return, even against the canopied darkness. It was only natural, after all, when a dog could carry a star for a day.
---
If I could pluck that moon and hand it to you right now, Rukia, I wouldn't.
Why?
Because your eyes are more than enough for this world to bask beneath.
