Crimson Tears and Slit Wrists

Chapter 1

My Broken Fukutaichou

In the begining it was mere admiration, amazement at his shire beauty and skill. Then he learned more about him and everything changed, wether for the better or the worse. Soon he was much more than just his captain, his superior in so many ways. He is untangible to him. He is the being far from his reach. All he ever desires is for his gaze to look upon him. To love him as much as he loved him. To have his ever presented smile for him. He wants nothing more than to feel his icey cold touch on his less chilled skin. But... he knows he'll never love him, never will carress him passionately. It is that truth that drove him to the state he is in now.

Izuru Kira is once again all alone in that dark room of his. And once again his zanpakuto is turned to his already scarred wrist. Both of his slender wrists have slanted reminders of the abuse they must go through practically every night. Some were just red marks, others were fresh and raised. He wouldn't give them the time to heal, so this is how it has to be. The pain he felt within his shattering heart needed something to be compared to. These cuts were the closest he could get without killing himself or having visible proof of his lost sanity. If his shihakusho wasn't so long, he didn't even want to imagine what others would say about the gashes he'd made all along his arms. Soon he'd have to move on his legs.

His arms were getting too weak to go into battle. Like that mattered anyways. With the amount of blood he has spilled in his greif he won't last much longer. 'Maybe it's better if I just get it all over with and end this meaningless exsistence.' He thinks time and time again. If death was the only way to make his suffering end then he'd do it had he be stronger than he is. The idea of leaving his beloved taichou, Ichimaru Gin, was unbearable. Though his misery was because of that sly mysterious fox. Izuru loves him so much. He didn't know why, but he does. He is this amazingly beautiful creature that had captured his heart without even knowing it. His snow white skin and purpleish white hair had blinded his eyes so that no other could catch his attention. His unique personality and unknown past had enchanted him so that nothing else could be on his mind.

And despite his affection, Izuru feared him more than anything in the world. Yes, death is a less frightening thought than Ichimaru. He is a demon that hides behinde a sinester smile. Death fears him. The mere sound of his name sends the poor blonde into uncontrolable trembling. Hearing that smooth accent made him hiperventlate later on if not at that exact moment in time. Ever since he can remember he has always perfered to look away as to not look directly in the face of his terrifing taichou. The grinning fox made his heart stop repeadtly that it's shocking he hasn't died of a heart attack yet. When ever Gin would casually lay a hand on his shoulder or come too close to feel his breath against his face, Kira would nearly black out then and there.

He wasn't afraid he'd hurt him, though he kind of was when he was unusally uneasy. It didn't make since really. Can someone love someone so unconditionally that they could die from anxiety from their presence? Surely not. There was someting wrong with him. There had to be. And there had to be a reason as to why Ichimaru would tease him endlessly and tortuously. His wonderful nightmare seemed to enjoy flustering him and making his breath hitch higher whenever he got the chance. It happedned just the other day that he'd done the same thing. Izuru was hurring to report to him, hoping he wasn't going to be late. His efforts went to waste. He was late. Ichimaru had taken advantage of his unstable panicing mind when he was apologiesing. He had apperaed to be angry and frowned disapprovingly, a gesture not many ever saw. Then some how he had cornerd the scared emo to the wall, changing his anger to seductive whispering that nearly made him lose it. Nothing happened; nothing more than cruel temptation, which caused him more pain in the end.

So this is how he came to find comfort in his blade as it slices away at a defenceless vein. Izuru's depression was put at ease as he watched his blood fall to the floor. He has never felt true happiness and nothing has come close. Sometimes not even cutting brought much hope. Another vein is attacked merciouly. By now he feels nothing at all as he begins to slice his other wrist. No tears came to his eyes anymore as they had when he had began this routine, no groans or whimpers escaped his lips, and there was no longer the need to curl up into a ball to writhe in agony. He has become used to his torture. "I'm so pathetic."

Suddently, he hears footsteps approaching his room. Normally he'd ignore such interuptions, however he'd forgotten to lock the door. Of course. ' Maybe they're just passing by.' he thought as the blade went deeper, causing blood to flow freely. His hope vanished as the door slowly opened and revealed his worst nightmare, Ichimaru Gin. At that instant he completely froze. The least person he wanted to see him in this disgraceful state was here, trying to make out his figure in the darkness. "Izuru?" The sound of his calm voice is intoxicating. Ichimaru closes the door as he turns on the lights to stare in shock at what is before him.

Izuru looks down and trys to hide behinde his bangs; hide from the shame. The room is silent, except for the drops of blood falling down his arms to the hard floor. 'Please... just let me die now!' He pleads to himself as he struggles to surpress sobs. Before he can react, Ichimaru comes up to him and slams him to the wall, tightly gripping the color of his shihakusho. Wabisuke is left in the little pool of blood. "How can ya do 'his to yer 'elf, Izuru?!" He demands rather than asks. The shakened blonde only stares at him with wide eyes of fear. "Ansa meh!" He shouts, pounding his underling roughly against the wall.

Izuru begins to tremble to this and whimpers into histaric sobs. He has finally reached his breaking point. The older male is stunned by this reaction. Why was Izuru doing this to himself? Why inflict pain on himself? How could he do this and not think of how others would feel, especially his captain? Seeing his fukutaichou in this condition sent devestating blows to Gin's hidden heart. He loosens his grip on him and gently lets him back on his feet, which didn't last long since he just collapsed afterwards. Gin still held his arms up and could see the full extent of the damage Izuru had done. His stomache oddly turned at the appalling sight. He knew all along he's been depressed since he first met him, but he never once thought it was this bad.

"Izuru, calm down." He says soothingly to hush the frantic bloody mess. Though, it's useless. Tears run in sorrowful streams, blood smears everywhere, his body shakes, and his terrible weeping is agonzing to hear. A soul can't go on like this. He's gong to break, no, he has broken! Izuru frees his arms from Ichimaru with an abrupt jerk and then uses them to cover his face, having his bood smear into his hair, mixing crimson with pale gold. The shame... The embarrsement... The fear... The regret... The sadness...

"I-I-I'm sor... sorry! C-Capt-tain I-I... ah... Forgive me!" Izuru stampers desperately. He couldn't stand to have Ichimaru mad at him. His dear taichou meant the world to him. He may have disgraced himself, but if Gin would smile again as he usually did to hide his true feelings then he could pull whatever was left of him up. But if he didn't, he'd let the rest of the pieces fall. "P-Punish-sh m-me! Hi-it....e.... I d-d-d...on't care. I've d-disa..... appoint-ted-ed you." Yes, being punished by him would be quite deserving. He has always feared being hurt by the fox, always was sure not to be too close even for an accident. But now would be appropiate for such violence and abuse. And perhaps he'd find enjoyment in causing him physical pain.

"I won' do tha ta ya, ya knows thas." Ichimaru whispers, sympathetically rubbing Izuru's sides. This act only makes the timid boy choke on a ghastly sob. "Izuru, don' cry."

"I-Ichi-chimaru-ta-tai-taichou... I'm, I'm, I'm... sor..."

Gin sighs and pulls Izuru close to cradle him into an embrace. His arms held him protectivately as he placed his chin on his shoulder. Not a sound came fron the disheaveled boy when Ichimaru spoke in a melancholic tone. "Mah brokn' fukutaichou."