Um...okay! Hey there, loves, how are you all? This is my first venture into the world of Bleach fanfic. It's a vague tiny drabble about Byakuya and Hisana...of course, I never actually say their names, but I think you can figure it out. There's no Hisana under the character filter, so it's under Byakuya and Rukia.
Well, I wrote this yesterday in my math notebook. I was in Drama and had nothing better to do, so, here's this little angst filled fic.
Don't flame me, please! It's my first Bleach fic and I've decided to write it in second person...unusual, yes, but I think it's pretty good.
Now, enjoy, please!
Song I'm listening to right now: "When It Rains" by Paramore (I've decided to keep tabs on whatever song I'm listening to at the moment.)
Reviews are great, constructive criticism is better!
She's dying.
That's all they tell you, but it's enough. She's dying. No why or how. Just "She's dying."
You think "No, not her. They must be crazy, must have gotten it wrong. She can't be dying. Not her…"
Not now.
She walks out and you can tell that she knows that you know. The smile she has tried to put on her face fades in an instant. She starts crying and you can do nothing but hold her and tell her it'll be alright.
But it won't be. You're not god and you can't stop death.
- - - - - -
You start wishing. Wishing is the first step. You wish she'd get better, you wish you could help her, you wish you could have a few more years with her.
You haven't believed in wishes since you were little, but now you're desperate and figure anything would be better that just accepting it.
- - - - - -
Begging comes next. You beg and you plead. You'll be less cold to people, you'll be more caring, you'll lead a better life. You'll do anything if she can be saved.
You beg to god, god who you don't really believe in. You stopped believing in him when you learned she was dying, but you hope he can forgive you. You beg.
All the while, she gets worse. She sees how you're dealing with this and it makes her worse. You make her worse. Irony at its finest…
- - - - - -
She grows paler, you grow angrier. Anger is the next step…at least for you. You're angry with god for making her die, with people for not being able to save her, with yourself for being so helpless. Everyone wants to destroy your life. You've never been happier than you are with her.
Maybe fate doesn't want you to be happy. Ever think about that?
- - - - - -
You're not sure why you're so upset. Usually, the stages of loss come after you've actually lost someone.
But maybe she's already so far gone that your mind can't tell the difference.
- - - - - -
After a while, she can't bring herself to get out of bed. She stays in the room all day and you, only out of sympathy, keep her company.
You know it's only out of sympathy because you know, if you had the choice, you wouldn't want to see her like this.
You sit there, you hold her hand, you go through all the motions of being a caring husband, but you don't want to be there. It makes you uncomfortable.
The room is like a precursor to death. Every minute you spend in there sucks the life out of you. She sucks the life out of you. You can't breathe.
- - - - - -
You feel her slip away, day after day, and though you wish you could help, you realize that she's already been gone for far too long.
One day, she seems to realize that she's almost dead. She makes one last attempt to reach you, tells you about a sister she wants you to find. You tell her to hush, to save her strength, to stop talking like she's already dead.
It doesn't help. She's gone before you can say "Okay."
- - - - - -
You save her sister, not because you care about this girl you hardly know, but because you want to respect your dead wife's last wishes.
You find her after a year, lie, tell her she reminds you of her wife, that that's the only reason you want to adopt her.
It's a lie, it's all a lie, drowning in what isn't the truth. She looks just like your wife and that hurts you more that you can admit.
If you had a choice, you wouldn't ever want her around you.
She looks just like your wife, and you can't handle it.
She looks just like your wife, and that's why you never look at her.
She looks just like your wife, and that's the reason you'll always shut her out.
She doesn't know why you do this to her. She thinks you hate her.
In a strange, twisted way, you do.
You don't want to get close to her, because you might lose her.
But you don't have to worry.
If you never let her in, you'll never have the chance to lose her at all.
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Well, press that little purple-ish button and tell me, please!
I'm in the midst of writing a ByaRuki...please, tell me what you think of this story! Am I good at writing Bleach, or should I stay away?
Thanks for reading!
Ja ne!