This fiction contains offensive material. Please do not read without an open mind.

THE DEEDS OF SAINTS

chapter one: my doctor eats love

I've got this problem. Don't get me wrong; I didn't always have it. I was actually born a normal, happy kid. Although, I don't remember much of the times when I was alive. Maybe that's part of the problem, but I remember being happy. Or maybe, just the word 'happy.' I can't really be sure. I died when I seven though, I remember that. But I don't remember how. Maybe that's part of the problem to.

To tell the truth, I don't know when it happened. It felt like a long time coming, but it was sudden like a loud snap and, well, everything started to go downhill.

Have you felt detached from the world? Like, as if to say everything is the shits and nothing matters anyway? I've never been a nihilist. Actually, I was the opposite. I was attached to people. I cared about them. I cared about justice. I was actually a lieutenant captain. I didn't just uphold justice. I was justice and people looked up to me. Today, at this exact moment, I ruined all that.

I have my arm curled around Jushiro Ukitake and in my hand is the braided hilt of my sword. I watch the little lump in his throat dance around the steel edge. I could slit him open if I wanted to, but I don't. Not really.

I'm being evaluated at this moment, so no one interferes. This is a match meant for me to show-off. They want to promote me to captain, and I don't really care either way. This when the sudden snap happens. Quick and loud- just snap! And suddenly I'm telling Jushiro Ukitake that I'm going to kill his subordinates in front of him.

Like I said, I have a problem.

They have no idea and I can hear Jushiro Ukitake yelling behind me. Surprise is creeping into their faces. They really have no idea. I'm about to kill them and they have no idea. They're both in my reach now, but I go for Kiyone Kotetsu first. I've got my hand wrapped around her scrawny neck and I could snap it. I feel her bones squeezing closer and closer together. Then I realize that I'm killing her. She's got tears in her eyes and her mouth is open. She's making the most disgusting noises. My guess is that she's trying to breath. I tell her not to worry, that it'll all be over soon and it is, because Byakuya Kuchiki is looming behind me. I release her. She's squirming around my feet like a worm and sucking in air like a fish.

"Well," I hear myself saying. "What do you think? Do I make captain, Byakuya?" That's the first time I addressed him so unceremoniously and I didn't even get to see his face because he knocked me out so fast.

And so, here I am now. Stripped of my privileges and bound up in a cell, and I don't really care. I told you, I had a problem. It's times like these that I wish I could see my parents. I'd wave to them from behind these bars and smile, saying 'thank you! Thank you!' And I'd go on and on about how they should have loved me more. 'If only you'd hugged me, I'd be such a better person!' But, then again, I don't remember my parents. So maybe they did hug me. Maybe that's part of problem too.

I must be genetically defective. That's gotta be the problem. I cannot be held responsible. It's not my fault after all; it's my parents. I didn't ask to be born and I certainly didn't ask for this. Then again, I don't really care.

In the morning I'm standing with my hands bound in front of an old man, who's condemning me. I wonder if age entitles you to privilege. If you're old and near death, you're given honor even if don't deserve it. His lips are shaking, and shiny with saliva. He tells me how ashamed I should be. How inexcusable my behavior is. How could you, you're an assistant captain? You had honor. Deserved honor. You see, judge. My parents didn't hug me. It's not my fault. Then his face would soften and nod.

Well, after an hour, it appears I'm not going to be executed. With all honesty, I didn't expect to be. They tell me I'm fortunate to be given such a gracious pardon. These old people are full of bullshit. I'm not even going to be exiled. See how lucky I am? They tell me I'm not even going to be demoted. Now that, on the other hand, did surprise me.

Instead my position was being suspended. They were sending me into rehabilitation. Oh, really? Are they going to hug me there? Will they love me until I'm better?

The old man keeps on mumbling. Apparently this rehabilitation center is in the human world. This way my spiritual powers can be suppressed. I'm escorted out of the courtroom and I'm released from my binds by Rangiku Matsumoto. She looks at me with her little face. Her fat lips parting and she says to me, "Renji, this isn't like you." No shit. "What's going on?"

My parents didn't hug me. "They're sending me to rehab. Maybe I drink too much."

"I was there for the hearing. What I want to know is what is going on?"

"I'm being sent over to Retsu Unohana to find out. If you're interested then come along." Her face scrunches and she kindly refuses, saying she has to report to Toshiro Hitsugaya soon. I wave her off.

Isn't that always the way with women? They get in your face and demand to know what you're thinking; and as soon as you indulge them, they clatter off with better things to do. Actually, I'm surprised this certain small woman hasn't surfaced yet. I expected her black head to be bobbing into my vision, but I didn't catch sight of her anywhere. And then I see her, walking beside her stepbrother solemnly, Rukia Kuchiki. Did you know I almost died twice for that woman? She won't even look at me right now. She moves right past me. Well, isn't that always the way with women?

"Antisocial Personality Disorder." This is what Retsu Unohana tells me. Her voice is quiet and placid. Does she think this is a kindness to me? That she is doing me a favor by speaking to me with sympathy? Really, her words would mean the same to me no matter how she spoke them. They are only words- just words with no meaning. She tells my escort that the rehabilitation center is already informed of my pending arrival.

They know all about me because she has told them. Yes, Ms. Unohana, you have my thanks! After all, who knows me better than you? Hey, I let you probe my body and then we're on this whole new intimate level. Ain't it grand? I'll even let you cut open my skull and have a gander. This way, you'll know everything I'm thinking. We'll be like lovers.

"I'm assured that these doctors can help you with your condition, Lt. Abarai. You'll be in the best of hands." Oh, fuck. They are going to hug me after all.

Byakuya Kuchiki was the one who escorted me into the human world. To Karakura Town. I'm not sure why, but it sounded familiar. Was I born there perhaps?

Byakuya didn't say a word. He looked only ahead with his stone-carved face. I want to tell him that he isn't that pretty. He needn't walk with me as if flaunting himself down a runway. What a hardass. I've known him for a long time. I used to watch him, study him. I wanted to know all his flaws and weaknesses. I memorized them, the whole while avoiding his gaze and afraid to be noticed. Now I'd forgotten the feeling. I wasn't afraid because I didn't give a shit.

We parted ways and I breathed easier for it. I could slouch now. I waited, standing alone by the street. There would be a car to pick me up. It would bring me to the rehabilitation center, to the nuthouse. This is where I would revert to my old self again. I'd morph into that laudable, grinning lieutenant, who's fit for work and happy to do it. A car pulls up in front of me and I wonder if a letter has been sent out. I imagine it would read: Incoming, Lt. Renji Abarai-Grade 'A' nutcase. And it would be signed with a glossy, red kiss from Retsu Unohana.

I get into the car with my "Antisocial Personality Disorder" swimming around inside me, waiting to be fished out by more doctors, who would know me like a lover. Help me, I feel belittled.

The place is huge and its walls are slathered in white stucco. I'm escorted through a glass, revolving door. It smells like cleaner inside, the kind the makes you want to sneeze. The walls are patterned with tall windows- an overlooked safety hazard I suppose. I can almost see a slight man limping down the hall. There would be icy shards sticking through him. I just wanted to look out the window, he'd say. I never meant to kill myself.

I'm brought up an elevator to the fourth floor and taken down a bright hallway. There are no windows down this hallway, only steel doors with plastic screens. You can look into the rooms this way. "Precautions must be taken with these patients. It's only to ensure their safety, but don't worry Mr. Abarai. Your room isn't on this floor." This is what my nameless escort tells me. He says I also have a room with a balcony.

He hands me my bag when we reach the top floor. "Is this your only belongings?" he asks me as I take the bag.

"It is," I say. My room has a number above the door. 746. And I think there is no way that there are over seven hundred rooms in this building. I guess it means floor 7, room 46. I close the door behind me. It looks like a hotel room, a nice one. There's a big bed, a phone, a television, my own bathroom and yes, the balcony. I step outside and have a look around. I take a mental note. Only rooms on the seventh floor have balconies. I look over to the right and imagine my neighbor throwing himself off it. He'd say, 'I was only trying to escape. I didn't mean to kill myself.'

Or maybe he would survive and as I pass through the fourth floor, I would see him through the plastic screens.

There are times in ones life where music should accompany it. This is one of those times. This is where orchestral sounds should fade in and play as a camera zooms onto my face. The camera would just keep zooming and zooming and the music would play louder; an audience would watch, anxious and waiting for me to speak. Oh, look his lips moved! Quick cut the sound!

"So I just take this every morning?" I say to the doctor in front of me, speaking over his explanation. He looks as if he's been insulted.

"Yes," he says, stuttering through the words. Oh my, director! Can we do this scene again? My co-star appears to have forgotten his line. The doctor gapes and I envision his pulsing brain. He seems lost for words. Finally he speaks, "Mr. Abarai, don't you want to know what I'm prescribing for you? It is important. Please, sit back down and allow me to explain."

"No, no." I say. "There's no need. I'll take them, just hand them over." He passes me the plastic, blue bottle. The pills insides are tiny and pink.

"You'll have another appointment in about three weeks. We'll be increasing the dosage. These pills are chemical stabilizers and they can be difficult on the body. Please, do not skip a single dose and take it at the same time each day. I recommend in the mornings."

"You got it," I say and toss a pill into my mouth and it melts a little on my tongue before I can swallow it. Now there's a bitter taste left in my mouth. That was more disgusting than I originally thought. I'll take it with water next time. I notice the doctor giving me a curious look. "What?" I say. "It's morning."

I'm allowed to leave the building whenever I chose. I have no curfew. This is my reward for not being too insane. I leave as soon as the doctor is done with me. I'm straight out the door and onto the street. I have nowhere to go, so I'm walking aimlessly. Down this street, up that one and through an alley, I'm just walking.

The sky is still bright. Not much time has passed. It occurs to me that I've been down this street before. I remember the look of the houses that are weaved between the local shops. I let my feet move from memory. I follow this familiar trail, but why is it familiar?

I've got nothing but time, so I keep on moving through this recollected neighborhood. Then it dawns on me. This is where those ryoka are from. Karakura Town: Orihime Inoue; Yasutora Sado; Ichigo Kurosaki and that one guy who shot arrows… Ishta something or other, the Quincy. And all this information pours through me as I'm looking onto their high school.

There are kids moving around out front, so I'm guessing that it must be lunch hour. I'm about to leave when some guy calls me out. He's shouting and cursing and his words are mixed up with human slang that I don't understand. All I know is that he started moving towards me. He says something about me trying to look like a thug. Me? A thug? More rowdy kids move behind him. Their uniforms are messy. One guy has a steel bolt through his septum.

He tells me I look ridiculous and not frightening at all. I felt the same about him and he was beginning to bother me. I tell him to get lost, but he persists. I really don't have a clue why he's doing this. He mentioned something about another high school. He told me that I was from it and that 'my friends' had ripped him off.

Do I look like I'm in high school? I thought I would at least look like an adult in this world. I happen to be over a century old, but maybe this gigai looked younger. Then it occurs to me. The shinigami from the research department must have fashioned this gigai to look under eighteen. I don't know much about this world, but I'm familiar enough to know the laws are applied differently to persons under that age. Those fucking cheap bastards! I bet my hospitalization was probably cheaper if my body was biologically younger than an adult.

That kid keeps yelling at me, so I hit him in the face. It was actually quite amusing. He fell right onto his back and starting rocking on the ground. He clutched his nose; it was bleeding and lying on his left cheek. Opps, I hadn't meant to break it. Screams are coming from all directions now. Some girls are running into the building and the boys are gathering around. They're chanting, 'fight,' and who am I to deny them?

It wasn't until after a good ten minutes that an authority figure came to restrain me. I got thirty kids in that time. About seven of them were just bystanders, but a brawl was a brawl. The skin on my knuckles was raw and there were pieces of it missing. I had splotches of blood on my shirt. It wasn't mine.

The authority man grabbed onto my arm and so I swung my bloody fist into his stomach. He hunched over and began sucking in air. I clasped my hands together above his bowed head. I prepared to bring my joined hands down onto it, but I felt a soft touch at my waist. It was a tiny hand grabbing onto my reddened shirt. It was the ryoka girl; and it was the look in her eyes that made me stop. It was as if she was looking onto a madman.

I'm sitting in this guy's office. The authority man is here to. He's telling the other authority man what he saw and what I did. He wants to press charges and I feel like I'm back at court. Director, oh director, why can't we just cut this scene out?

"What school are you from?" the bigger authority man asks me.

"I don't go to school," I say. The authority man grunts. I don't think he's surprised.

"Where are your parents right now?"

"Probably rotting in the ground," I say.

"You're a sick boy," he says with this ugly look on his face. "What's your last name and home address? We're going to contact your guardians."

"I don't have any of that," I say. All this is beginning to lose my interest. I resist getting up and walking away. Although, I really should just tromp out the door and disappear. If they find me, who cares? "Look," an idea hits me. I'll let someone else deal with this. "Ichigo Kurosaki can help you out. Just call him up here and he can explain."

"What? Ichigo Kurosaki? What does he have to do with this?"

"Everything, now-" I take a moment in mid sentence to rethink things. I really don't have to answer to these people; I'm a dead man after all. I'm nothing but a ghost haunting an artificial body. I'm only here because it's less strenuous on the Soul Society's pockets. They tucked me neatly away. So why should I comply with the living? "Ichigo Kurosaki is a peddler." I say, shifting the blame. "I was mistaken for him. I was defending myself and I don't go to this school. You can check your records. My name's Haru Watanabe."

If you look closely at a person, you can see their soul. Not all of it of course, but you can see their desires; their loyalty and you can even see their fears. When I looked at authority man, I saw his desires. I saw his contempt when I mentioned the name Kurosaki Ichigo. He wanted an excuse to penalize the guy and I gave it to him. He had a sated look to his eyes when I accused him of peddling. You see, if you give the bear a fish; it'll let you leave the cave.

That evening, I'm riding up the elevator. On a whim, I stop it on the fourth floor. I want to walk down the windowless hallway and peer into the steel doors. I owe it to my imaginary neighbor. I'm nearing the end of the hall when I see her. She's staring right at me. I was peering into all the rooms as I walked by and she'd caught me. I'll admit, I froze.

She had steel eyes; gray, cold and hard and they were fixed on me. The corner of her mouth twitched and curled into a leer. She knew. She got me and she knew. She was leaning into the door. The pale skin on her forehead was pressed against the plastic screen. She licked her teeth and grinned. I walked around the corner and her steel eyes followed me all the way.

All I could think about was her. That woman. That woman was not alive. She was dead, dead, just like me.

I lie in my large, soft hotel bed. I'm still wearing my human clothes. I'm on my back, wearing scratchy denim on my legs and I realize my shirt is still bloody. I understand the peculiar looks I was given on my way here now.

The blood has seeped through the fabric and it's like gum on my skin. I peel the dark cotton over my head and toss it onto the ground. There's old, darkened blood sponged all over my chest. I scratch it off.

I'm lying in my large, soft hotel bed with flakes of blood scattered around me. The room smells of iron and I sleep anyway.

That morning I wake up. I'm Captain Renji Abarai. I've defeated Captain Kuchiki. I've married Rukia and we live in Australia. After a year, we have a kid. He's a runt, but I know he'll grow bigger. I'll teach him how to use a sword and he'll grow up strong. He'll look like Rukia and he'll be very attached to her. At eighteen, he'll kill his first man and I'll teach him how to shoulder the nightmares.

Now, he'll be older and he won't look like Rukia anymore. He looks like me and he talks like me, as he tells me that he no longer has nightmares. He's a grown man and he's become like me: guiltless.

That morning I woke up. I was in room 746 on my hotel bed. My bloody shirt is still on the floor and it still reeks of iron. I'm still in last night's jeans and I have a room with a balcony. I could tell myself whatever I want, but it doesn't change a thing. I'm Lt. Renji Abarai, the grade 'A' nutcase, whose neighbor tried to escape by throwing himself off a balcony.

I'm in the elevator; seven, six; I'm wearing my only clean shirt; five; it's cotton and white; four. I stop the elevator. A little screen is blinking. It blinks four. I'm thinking of her steel eyes looking at me. Four blinks on. Four blinks off, and I keep going down the elevator to the main floor.

A young man greets me. "Mr. Abarai! How was your first night? I hope you slept well." He talks fast. "There's a message for you at the front desk. It's from the officials."

Soul Society.

"If you could, that is, straighten out the problem quickly, it would be most appreciated," he says.

I'm at the front desk. I receive the message. The soul society has courteously informed me that they have made a withdrawal from my account- my account- and are waiting to deposit it into the hospital's checking account. All they need is my personal identification number to complete the transaction.

I'm in Australia.

They also hope I'll recover quickly.

I'm going to jump off my balcony.

They also tell me I won't be permitted to return until I've completed my treatment.

I'm living on the fourth floor.

I don't eat lunch. Lunch costs extra. Lunch is staying in my bank account. I'm going to go for a walk so I won't have to think about lunch.

I pass by a restaurant and I see the numbers in my account dwindling. I'm heading back before I pass by another.

I'm back in my hotel bed. I'll starve to death I think, but I will not let my stomach eat my paycheck. No, lunch is for the Silver Dragonfly Glasses store. I want new gear. I want a pair of sunglasses. It's sunny in Australia. I'll need them.

The phone is ringing. If it rings six times, I'll answer. This way I'll know it's important. Eight rings and I pick it up. "Yeah?" I say.

"Mr. Abarai? A family member has come to see you."

"What?"

"Your cousin, Mr. Abarai," he says.

"Oh, really?" I don't have any cousins. "Ask him for I.D."

"Sorry?"

"Ask my cousin for I.D."

"Mr. Abarai, please. It'll be good for you to see you're family. Please, he's waiting in the lobby."

"He's waiting? …What'd he say his name was?" I ask.

"Byukuya Kuchiki."

How could I say no?

The orchestra in my head starts playing again. I hear whining sounds of strings and then I see him. He's sitting by himself in the brightly lit lobby. It takes a moment, but I'm able to register the vision of tweaked-out hair before me. Cousin's got a scowl on his face and he's head-to-toe covered in tightly adorned human clothing. Cousin Kuchiki is Ichigo Kurosaki.

I turn and begin walking out the door- a futile escape. I hear him flying up from his perch and now I'm sandwiched against the lobby's wall. He's breathing heavy. He's quite angry.

"Haru Watanabe," he says.

"Cousin Kuchiki," I say.

"Well, I knew you wouldn't come down unless it was an order from your captain." He speaks and it's like I'm suffocating.

"Ah, well."

"You," he says. "You said I was dealing drugs."

"No I didn't."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Orihime saw you."

"Wasn't me."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Well, the way the principal described you, it sure sounded like it was."

"He's delusional."

"He described you perfectly."

"Lots of people look like me," I say. I feel his blood pressure rising.

"No one looks like you!" He's screaming. "You really fucked things up for me, you know that? I had cops bring me home! They searched my goddamn fucking house! I'll never hear the end of this at school!"

"Sorry," I say. "I don't what to tell you."

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't cover it! Didn't you hear me? I said that fucking cops had to bring me home! Cops! My sisters were traumatized!"

"Ichigo," I say. He looks at me with eyes that seem as if they're about to pop out of his head. "Talking to you," I say, "feels like being caught in a revolving door."

He hit me in the face.

Right in the jaw and I'm bleeding onto my only clean shirt. His fist is coming back through the air. He's going to hit me again. The orchestra strikes up. Its notes are squeaking high and I'm running out the door.

One foot sails over the other. Go. I'm already down the street. I'm running and it feels as if I'm carrying dead weight, like I'm running in a meat sack. Twenty minutes and my lungs are taking in fire. I suck it in and it burns, so I force it out.

I start to jog. I can hear myself breathing. Honestly, I never expected him to follow and naturally he catches up. He's got this coy look on his face.

"You're out of shape," he says.

"It's the gigai."

He would have hit me, I think, if I were not already on the ground panting for breath. He crouches down to meet me. He's got his finger pointed somewhere on the horizon: The hospital, and I think, damn; I really didn't run that far. I can still see its white stucco like a fleck in the distance. "By the way," he says. "Why are you staying there?"

"Soul Society's orders."

The sun is hanging low in the sky and it creeps along his face shining pink. One side shines pink. The other is hidden in purple shadows. His hair is still bright and orange. He's like a human sunset. "So," he says. "Why are you staying there?"

My parents didn't hug me. I tried to kill third seat from thirteenth division.

"Renji?" he says.

Thirteenth division still doesn't have an official lieutenant. Not since…

Kaien Shiba.

"Renji?" he says. I forgot the question. He looks at me once more and turns away. "Forget it," he says. He stands and offers me his hand as a help up. I actually think I need it. I missed lunch. I missed dinner. I'm still out of breath. So I accept his kind gesture, but his grip is squeezing my knuckles together. I'm on my feet and trying to break away from his clasp. It's like an angry handshake because he doesn't let go.

"Knock it off," I say. It's starting to really hurt now. I feel the bones in my hand grinding against each other and first knuckle says hello to fourth knuckle.

"You're going to run away again," he says, his scowl returning. It's true, I was. "And you're not going anywhere until you explain to my family that you were lying."

I think of Ichigo's father and shake my head. "No, I don't think so," I say.

"What?" He's screaming again. "Why not?"

"Because," I say, "you broke my hand."

"Stop being so dramatic."


Not much of cliff-hanger- I know!

Thank you for reading this far. Please read chapter two!

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