Candle in the Wind
Genre: General
Rating: K
Summary: Let him think it disdain, let him believe it hatred. I have only one wish: Kurosaki Ichigo, regain your fire.
Warnings: Contains some angst.
Beta: my awesome friend, Twilley
Standard disclaimers apply.
Watching him walk down the hall… Kurosaki Ichigo, what was going through your head when you accepted the offer of Captaincy? I know you had deliberated well— you had declined the position of Fifth Squad Captain on the grounds that Lieutenant Hinamori Momo would be devastated that the killer of her mentor would become her Captain— therefore you have no excuse, no alibi, as to why you are walking up the aisle made by the Captains, heading towards Yamamoto. Kurosaki Ichigo...
Only the back of his head is visible to me as he had already walked past. He just stares ahead. Why? I cannot, at this point, imagine what his eyes are like. Are they full of the fire they were filled with at Soukyoku Hill? He... cannot do this. Do not change. Do not become like me.
I watch him raise his hands slowly, not hesitantly but calmly, as if he is still in control. This is not a battlefield. He cannot win this war, unlike how he had brutally beaten everyone and anyone that had stood in his path. I cannot stand to watch that fire turn to smoke and disappear. He is still that lone candle, flickering in the wind of duty, a light that used to be so bright.
Every night I see it still, our advance towards Aizen and even now. Every time we had crossed blades in training, his sword speaks and resounds with a ghostly echo of my own heart. It speaks of protection, warmth and love— abilities I had lost decades and centuries ago. His eyes were the most captivating. His eyes aren't blue, aren't green or any other unique colour, they were the average brown but spoke of pure resolve and faith— everything his personality already says— but most of all, his eyes spoke of freedom, like a bird facing the wind, heading towards the furthest point of the earth where I cannot, ever, reach.
And what are they like now as he repeats his oaths? What will they be when he watches in agony as his own friends are prosecuted and he, the prosecutor? Will he fight and leave his Division behind, or will he comply and leave his friends behind? Either way, he...
Watching Yamamoto hand the white haori over to Ichigo, I clench my fist, subtly shifting that clenched fist behind my back. Ukitake-sensei shoots a look at me and I know he feels the same way. Out of all the Captains, only he knows, though he has been in no position like it. I close my eyes. I cannot bear to watch Ichigo try on the haori, though sounds filter through as he comments on the fit. He may interpret my closing of the eyes in whichever way he wishes (most likely he will put it down as disdain, as everyone else will bound to do), but I really do not want to listen.
So I remember, reminisce, and bring myself to the top of Soukyoku Hill to once again relive that moment of understanding. As those scenes play before my eyes, I can still feel my sense of surprise and disdain as that you of then provokes me into Bankai. I… am, admittedly, ashamed of my performance and lack of self control, but no doubt you would excuse it as the burden of the heart becoming too heavy. This you already know only too well. Your eyes challenged that single strand of thread that I had been holding on all that time. Your Bankai sliced through it with ease, but before I dropped, you had already strung together a tougher rope for me to hold on. You created a world where I could protect what I want- could do as I please.
And I want to return that gesture.
The bustle of the hall reaches my ears as the flow of memories come to a nostalgic end. Opening my eyes, I watch as everyone file out. I take my place within the stream and head out of the double oak doors. Ichigo is at the head, raising his arms to greet the crowd of his friends who had been waiting. He's… gathered a lot of loyal supporters, from his squad and others. His smile is easy, but wrong. The air it gives off… seems to indicate that smile does not want to be there— isn't meant to be there. I slide off to one side and escape the festivities.
Walking through the corridors of Seireitei, the muffled sounds of my footsteps bounce off the bare, grey walls. Someone's following—Ukitake-sensei—and I let him, mostly because I do not feel threatened by him and I am not bothered to shoo him away. Ukitake-sensei falls in step beside me, and glancing at him, his face is contorted into a thoughtful expression. After a few seconds of silence, he stops me with a hand to my shoulder, a gesture that I despise, its sense of familiarity does not sit well with me.
"Ichigo," he hesitates, but decides to plunge on. "Ichigo is strong. I am sure he will pull through some way or another. Besides, he's not tied to the Gotei. He knows that this is just for convenience for Yamamoto-sensei to watch over him. If he were to turn on us, he could very easily crush the whole of the Gotei Thirteen. So don't worry too much, Byakuya."
He smiles and turns away, walking towards the wind. I'm left behind— had always been left behind somewhere on the road.
Returning to the Kuchiki Manor, I pick up my welcome gift for Kurosaki Ichigo. It's a small thing, but something I am sure he will appreciate. It's a black pen, made in the style of the humans, with 'Kurosaki Ichigo' carved onto the side, nothing more, nothing less— nothing fancy, nothing plain— wrapped in crisp white paper.
Judging the time to be right and the festivals over, I head out over to the Third Division Headquarters to complete social obligations, however halfway there, I find Kurosaki Ichigo seemingly walking away from his barracks. He isn't looking towards me, but rather the sky. It's a lovely day, but that is no excuse for his distraction. Had he been on the battlefield, he would have ultimately lost his life. A bird flies overhead, and he stops in his tracks. Distraction means death. I walk up to him, quick to reprimand him and scold him for his careless ways, however before I even get within two meters of him and call out his name, I am stopped by his head lowering and his eyes meeting mine.
They are still a chocolate brown, but there is a difference. There is light, but not the light there was before. The luminance is not radiated but reflected, as if his eyes were now a mirror, serving only to reflect what the seer wants. I am not fooled by his display of normalcy. His "Yo, Byakuya" and his grin were hesitant and overflowing with tiredness. Tired of being tied to Soul Society, tired of the responsibilities he is to shoulder, tired of the duties he is to perform.
Kurosaki Ichigo's eyes are dead, with only a ghost of its former brilliance that had shone atop Soukyoku Hill still flickering within its depths. Somewhere within the recesses of my mind, there is a sense of loss. Another flame reduced to smoke, spiralling away to dissipate into nothingness. The wind has already come and reduced the light to ashes. He stands as another candle next to me, the wisps of smoke slowly fading and I silently wish from the very depths of my heart this isn't true, that somehow, someway or other, Kurosaki Ichigo will find a way to light his fire again.
Do not become like me. Do not wither and fade.
Please, shine.
Shine and defy the wind that howls.
"Kurosaki Ichigo," I purse my lips and decide to proceed no further. Instead, I hold out the present, reaching for his hand and laying it on his palm. I curl his fingers over the present, give him a nod of recognition (however much I wish it were not so), and turn around. Closing my eyes, I just want to get out of here, remove myself from the saddening scene. Let him think it disdain, let him believe it hatred. I have only one wish.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
Regain your fire.
A/N: It started out as a outlet for study stress. When I wasn't able to finish it, I just really wanted to build on it because I liked the concept I had written about the candle in the wind. Anyways, much thanks for reading, and thanks goes to Twilley for beta-ing! Now, to recruit her as my permanent beta...
X. TANgled