READ ME! READ ME!
A/N: Random inspiration after reading some Hisana fanfictions! I thought about Rukia's name for a while and decided that if she had kept her original name then it would've been a lot easier to find her. But she hadn't, for how could she? For all we know she didn't even have a name but I gave her one in this fiction. I looked up Japanese names and found Mao. According to the site "真(ma) "real, true" or 舞(ma) "dance" combined with 央(o) "center", 緒(o) "thread" or 桜(ou) "cherry blossom". I thought it fit Rukia since "dance" is the release command for her zanpaktou and the cherry blossom part is a reference to Byakuya, and Rukia really is the "center" or "thread" of Byakuya and Hisana's relationship after Hisana passes away. Honestly I don't really know how to pronounce it but since I'm writing it I don't really need to know anyways! I don't speak Japanese so if anything is wrong I apologize. Also, I based Sode No Shirayuki's appearance off of the Zanpaktou rebellion arc ( i actually kinda liked that one) I thought the appearance really suited her. Also at the end I want people to keep in mind that Byakuya's zanpaktou is kind of an embodiment of spring and also that Hisana had passed away in spring.
Read this part or you won't get it: Yuki-onna are part of Japanese myth. A beautiful snow spirit of sorts, who is (depending on the legend) sometimes depicted as cruel, other times letting victims free for different reasons. Some say that Yukki-onna is the spirit of someone who died in the snow. Despite her beauty she struck terror into mortals. According to Wikipedia she sometimes appears with a child, when someone would take the child from her they would be frozen. If you need more info I suggest wikipedia.
And YES Mao is Rukia! In case you didn't read my author's note you lazy person.
Enjoy!
The Ice On Her Hands
Hisana remembered everything about the small baby she left behind. Her strangely colored eyes, the tuff of black hair, the small clinging hands that would rise out of the bundle of torn blankets. For who doesn't remember their greatest regret? She remembered that it was cold that day, colder than anyone expected it to be. It rarely rained on the parched ground of Inuzuri so the grey clouds that were hanging over the town were a surprise. She remembers dying of thirst and how fate laughed at her, for she could taste the moisture in the air but her throat cruelly remained desert dry.
The baby, Mao, had long since stopped crying. Hisana knew it was bad when it was too miserable to cry. She could relate, for her own eyes had run dry. Hisana remembers wondering if Mao harbored untapped spiritual pressure, for she would often find the child gnawing on blankets as if she was hungry. Hisana had just told herself she was teething, for if she had spiritual powers she would need food. She couldn't get water for either of them how could she possibly get food? But that wasn't her number one concern at the moment.
For the past few weeks it had crept up in her darkest thoughts. At first she had pushed it away, no consideration needed. No. She would not abandon a baby, let alone her defenseless sister. What had Mao done to deserve being abandoned? But as time wore on, it gained a voice. "What have I done to deserve this wretched life? Weighed down by an infant that is not even my own child? You will die, she will die. No one will win" And now months later she had come to a decision. Only the strongest survive, Mao was literally, as weak as a baby. Hisana would die with her if she did not let her go.
At first she had cried when she realized how heartless she was being. But love overcoming hardship, caring strangers that help, all the crap that people taught small children in the upper districts were false. If she wanted to survive being kind-hearted would not quench her aching thirst. The selfish strived in this world, and at the base of her heart Hisana knew that her instinct was to live to survive. She had been putting it off for days "Not today, it is too cold" or "Not now when the gangs were fighting". She hadn't wanted the day to come when she would run out of excuses.
She passed a dog in the street. It was dead, the spirit particles already rotting off into dust. Hisana was going to kill the writhing infant in her arms. It was more humane, she told herself, than to let Mao die from thirst. She had decided that suffocation would be easiest. Wait for her to sleep, and…Hisana couldn't finish the thought. She would not cry again, she would not let her resolve waver. Hisana dragged her bare feet across another dirt road, finding an abandoned alley. What did it matter? No one would care if she strangled the infant right in front of them; the locals of Inuzuri were not known for being kind. Not that there was anyone occupying the streets at the moment. Hisana had traveled away from the merchant area of the district into the residential areas. The only people who haunted the streets were thugs or unfortunate souls who had nowhere else to wander.
It was shame that drove her to commit the sin unseen. Hisana laid her baby sister against the wall and kneeled down beside her. Mao watched her curiously with violet eyes and cooed childishly. Hisana clenched her teeth; catching her cheek in the process she tasted blood in her mouth. She was irrationally angry at the baby for making such a noise, such an innocent sounding thing. I'm going to be sick she thought as burning tears sprang forth, she tried to ignore the churning in her gut. But she had to do this!
Hisana gently took Mao in her arms as she kneeled on the hard floor. Rocking the small baby softly she waited with bated breath for the infant to fall asleep. Eventually she did and Hisana wished that she didn't, wished that this was one of the few days when Mao would be fussy and cry for hours. But destiny seemed to not have her in its favor. As she stared wide eyed (the same shade of eyes as the baby) Hisana wondered how on earth she could end this baby's life.
Mao breathed softly, peacefully unaware of the trouble in the world. This baby who died so young in the human world now had to die in the afterlife as well? Hisana contemplated her role in the act as well, Mao would not die, she would be murdered. Was she not the older sibling? This defenseless child was her charge; she was supposed to be her guardian not her killer. But as she licked her own salty tears of her lips she was reminded of how thirsty she was. It had to be done.
Hisana took the ripped piece of cloth from her pocket, it would be enough to suffocate the young infant. Her chest rattled and more tears fell down her cheeks. Hisana had to bite her lip to make sure she didn't start sobbing, her sight of the infant was blurred through the tears and her frail hand was shaking uncontrollably. Just put your hand over her face, it'll only take a few minutes. She chanted to herself. She closed her eyes and allowed all the bitterness from her life to take over in one angry streak of cruelty. With that she allowed her hand to suffocate the child. She let all of her hidden aggression out on the small body in her arms. Mao opened her innocent violet eyes in alarm, realizing that breathe was no longer making its way into her fragile lungs. A muffled cry made its way in between her fingers through the cloth. Stay strong Hisana! She mentally screamed at herself as the baby struggled for breathe Hisana felt part of her die as slowly as the infant suffocated.
Her heart pounded so strongly against her rib cage Hisana wondered if she would die of a heart attack. Mao was crying now, tears streaming down her miniature face, red almost blue with lack of oxygen. Hisana didn't bother to hold in her tears, mourning the loss already. But as Mao reached her small hand up and let it rest against the very hand that was killing her Hisana's resolution collapsed, the sensation of the soft palm and small nails weakly gripping her hand was too much for her to bear.
Hisana quickly wretched her hands off of the infant's face with a strangled cry as if she had been burned by dry ice. "Stop crying Mao! Please stop…" She hoarsely begged. If Mao stopped crying then everything will be alright, none of this happened she could continue as she had. But she knew it was a lie, nothing could erase this moment from time. It had happened and Hisana could not pretend it hadn't .Could not go on living with one hand nurturing Mao and the other around the girl's throat. There was no turning back now and Hisana knew it.
Please forgive me, little sister. She thought desperately, hugging and cradling the baby until they both stopped crying. She stayed that way for an hour, hugging and rocking the child. Hisana knew what she had to do. As she set the child down for the last time, propping her small body against the wall Hisana allowed herself to look at her one more time.
Mao was staring at her with her violet eyes, and Hisana permitted her hands to linger on the infant, as if to pick her back up in a moment. But she could not find the strength in her arms to do so. Hisana slowly lifted her hands off of the bundle and stood up, hot tears were running down her face again. And here she had foolishly thought that she had no tears to cry. Fool she scolded herself. She felt drained, knowing in a distant way that her emotions were in a tattered mess. But she only felt sadness looking down at the stirring baby on the ground. Mao looked even smaller when she was standing; Hisana cast a longing look at her only family.
Mao began to cry, and as if she was a rabbit scared away by the sound of a predator Hisana bolted. She had never run so fast in her life, and in the dark part of her mind marveled at how much easier it was to run without an infant in her arms. She ran until her lungs burned and her head throbbed. But she could still hear the cries of her sister, at that moment Hisana knew she would hear them for the rest of her life.
Her eyes burned and her skin chilled from the cold air and sweat from running as she finally came to a stop. She collapsed onto her knees and cried out in anguish, sobbing into her cold hands. She did it. The wind blew, it was unbelievably cold. And Hisana yelped in surprise as she noticed the ice forming on her hands.
She stared in horror as the icicles spread. What in the world? Was the only thought that registered as the fierce wind blew again, blowing her hair all around her, the cold easily penetrating her thin kimono. Hisana looked up in time to see a beautiful Yuki-onna in fine white clothing, light ice purple-blue irises and pale blue long hair. As she looked more carefully she saw a child in the woman's arms, the child had black hair.
Hisana almost reached out to take Mao back, but the ice on her palms reminded her not to. Terror filled her, was she going to die? Was this spirit here to punish her for her sin of abandoning a child? But as quickly as the figure appeared it left.
It left Hisana to wonder if it had been real or not, the ice on her hands leaving no trace. To her dying day Hisana never knew if the spirit was real or just a hallucination, yet she prayed that somehow it had been a sign that a spirit would look after her sister.
Years later the same spirit would aide and guide the abandoned child, fight alongside her, protect her heart from all those who wished to hurt her. She would later be named Sode No Shirayuki. And she had spared the women because spring had his claim on her death and winter would not dare touch it.