Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Indulge
Prompt: Beneath all this hurt...
A/N: Written for a friendly challenge between myself and St. Harridan.
The scent of alcohol pervaded his sense, washing away the little joy the freshly bloomed trees had brought to him. Worry had been his companion as of late, torturing him out in the open where all could see. So many times he'd been asked about his condition, and the answer he gave was the same. He was fine. It had nothing to do with him, but with the gentle child whom he had taken under his wing so many years ago. She had fallen to earth, her wings broken and crumbling as the reality set in. Jushiro had been to see her only once, but that had been enough to instill further compassion in his already gentle heart.
Jushiro grimaced and pushed the sake jug away, quietly insisting that Shunsui go bother someone who was actually interested in getting drunk. He wouldn't deny that the liquor would make him feel better, but drowning oneself with a temporary pleasure would do little to lift his spirits. Not to mention the fact that Retsu would make a point of bringing it up during her next delivery.
It was astounding how something so simple as a farewell could cause so much pain. He could see her reflection in the water, head hanging low, hands scraping against her knees with frustration. Looking up, he felt like a fool for having seen her.
She wasn't even there.
Now, he was like her. The delusional one. Every attempt at bringing peace and comfort was easily brushed aside. He'd even gone so far as to send Kiyone and Sentaro away. Nothing, save Rukia's well-being, mattered at the moment. To the outsider, it would appear as though he were deeply involved with her. But that wasn't the case at all. Her feelings, as did the feelings of all his subordinates, meant something. She was in pain, and he'd made it his duty to stem the blood that had started to flow from her aching heart.
"Fucking moron."
Jushiro sighed and shook his head, scowling slightly as he turned around to see Kenpachi throw an empty jug to the ground. The thing shattered, several of the pieces flying into the water of the pond, frightening the golden koi and disturbing the glass-like surface of the water. He'd likely tagged along behind Shunsui, as the two, along with Izuru and Matsumoto, made it a weekly event to go bar-hopping and get stoned.
Kenpachi pointed at the jug in Shunsui's hand, a fierce look upon his face. "Take a fuckin' drink, and get the hell over it. Yer a man, not a fuckin' pansy."
The white-haired captain laughed, amused by the fact that Kenpachi was drunk and still giving orders. His fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, bringing it to his lips as he smiled. Wallowing in misery had to end at some point. And this, he supposed, was as good a way as any to climb his way out.