Drabble on the Ishida family. Spoilers for chapters 125 and 184 of the manga, I believe, plus rampant speculation. Dedicated to Mariphasa Hecatene and Dupidnagog, for assistance and beta-ing. Bleach is not my creation, and I make no claims on it.
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Once upon a time, Ishida Souken had hair so black it shone blue. His son watched as it turned gray over the course of several years. At first just a few strands, and then a few streaks, and then even his moustache, by forty, for not even one with Souken's gentle, cheerful nature could completely escape the strain of the Quincy lifestyle. His friends joked that he just had an old soul, no denying. But Souken always wore his gray with pride, because it was a symbol of the bow and the honor he lived for.

Once upon a rather more recent time, Ishida Ryuuken had hair so black it shone blue. His father watched as it turned gray in a single night when he was twenty-two, the night his wife died, the night his son was ripped from his mother's womb untimely, lest he die as well. His colleagues were baffled when, even after he'd recovered from the shock, the old color never returned. Ryuuken wore his gray with grief, a painful symbol of what his bow and honor had failed to protect.

Once upon the present time, Ishida Uryuu has hair so black it shines blue. His father watches the long bangs slide forward to hide his face from view, and imagines the strands fading, bleaching, youth draining away. He has never known his grandfather without his gray, his pride, or his father without his gray, his grief. He has never known the difference between the two. Uryuu never will know the meaning of gray, if Ryuuken has anything to say about it.