Hello all~
*drumroll* It's the moment you've all been waiting for! I finally am able to present to you the first installment of How The Hills Fill My Heart! I've gone over these parts a number of times, hoping to get it just right. That being said I do hope you enjoy reading Part 1; I can't say when the other parts will be posted, I have many other things to do and it was very stressful to get this part written, so please be considerate when reviewing.
On the note of reviews, don't be afraid to point out any mistakes - I appreciate constructive criticism and will strive to do my best with any corrections that fit. Also, be gentle; this is my first major story since Sing The Bells kinda flopped and I discontinued it - but I'm already working on its rewrite. Yays~ *clapping*
So, here's a refresher and/or introduction on what to expect:
The story is based on the musical/movie The Sound of Music by Rogers and Hammerstein. So if you've seen the movie, then you're already one step ahead. Because of this, characters will be OOC but also because I'm fairly new at this; the whole point of me writing this is to practice writing the characters . . . Anyway, Ichigo curses a bit, nothing major. I hope they don't all sound too forced. Aspects of the Christian religion are present; keep in mind that they're here for the story base. There will be an eventual yaoi pairing, so stop right here if that's not your thing.
I would also like to apologize if the ending seems a little abrupt. I wanted to make sure I had something posted for 615 today, so I cut a bit earlier from where I originally wanted to end.
I do believe that's it . . .
Make sure to leave a review! Reviews encourage me to write more, and it's sad when a story gets so many views but almost no review.
I'll see you at the end!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or The Sound of Music.
AN: Just made a few simple edits - word changes, grammar things, spelling issues, etc. Nothing important has changed.
HOW THE HILLS FILL MY HEART
SALZBURG, AUSTRIA
THE LAST GOLDEN DAYS OF THE THIRTIES
Swirling white mists fill an eerie blue sky, clouding a craggy, snow-draped mountain range in a silvery cape. The massive foreboding peaks stretch to the horizon, sharp and jagged, before disappearing behind the low-lying clouds once again. A cool breeze pulls at the floating curtain, making not a sound to break the peaceful silence. Pale fog gives way to silken sheets of snow covering the mountainside as glowing ivory transitions into rugged grey and brown, the frozen crystals vanishing against the sheer rock face. Hundreds of feet below, a river glides through a grassy valley like a glistening ribbon as the snow-covered Alps give way to gently rolling hills and lush forests.
"Ichigo,"
A broad lake glitters in the brightening sunshine. Bird whistles sing in the distance, floating in the gentle air. A huge mountain reflects on the lake's clear surface, shimmering like a blue crystalline mirror from the sky above. A magnificent green valley lies nestled among the hills, the roofs of a quaint small town within clustered together around a church and its steeple. Elegant castles and mansions sit scattered lightly across acres of grassy emerald farmland.
"Ichigo."
The warm scent of straw immediately filled the boy's nose as a light weight fell on his face. He hastily sat up, jolted awake from his dreams the moment the straw hit him. The boy rose from his resting place on the hay bales scrubbing his face and dusting his plain clothes to rid himself of the nuisance. A deep chuckle drew chocolate brown eyes to a tall man with his hands on the end of a long-handled rake, his chin resting on top, a smile lighting the man's face and russet eyes. A black cloth wrapped around his head and held back any red hair that dared to escape from his long shaggy ponytail.
"Must you do that, Renji?" Ichigo scowled as he threaded long fingers through his untamable orange hair. The red-head, Renji, gave another chuckle before standing to his full height and slung the rake across his shoulders. "That was clean straw, I hope," Ichigo said, plucking a stray piece of the object in question and inspecting it.
"Yes, it was clean. Don't worry yourself, Ichigo." Renji smirked at his friend before removing the rake from his shoulders. "And besides! It's the only fun way to wake you! And the least dangerous, I might add – I'd much rather not receive a bruise when I try to wake you," the red-head teased, causing the younger male to blush lightly through his scowl. Ichigo's lips twitched in an attempt to suppress his smile which ultimately failed. After all, the statement was the absolute truth; more often than not, the sleeping orangette would jolt awake just as he did moments ago, sometimes spouting all sorts of nonsense, and any individual unfortunate enough to wake him would be hit in the process, regardless of who they were.
Ichigo rolled his eyes and left his friend to laugh, picking up another rake and spreading the hay he'd been resting on. The two boys worked in a comfortable silence until Renji finally spoke.
"You were dreaming again."
"Mmmm . . ." Ichigo hummed in response.
"Of the mountains?"
Ichigo sighed and paused in his work, drifting off to the world of his dreams once again. They weren't all dreams. No, not really. More like memories – memories of days gone by. He remembered a time when one particular group of young children would venture up into the rolling green hills beyond the city, singing and dancing, playing underneath a clear blue sky before the sun would fall below the horizon and beckon them home.
"Ichigo." The orangette was shaken from his reverie once again by Renji's voice. The elder regarded him carefully, observing him with his russet gaze before shaking his head with a sigh and returned to spreading the new hay throughout the small stable. "We're not children anymore."
Orange brows furrowed heavily with the glare swirling cocoa eyes pinned on Renji. "I know that!" Ichigo huffed, scowling in his characteristic way.
"Then you know you can't go acting like one, dancing and singing through the fields like some wild fiend," Renji pointed out, frowning.
"I do not act like a wild fiend!" Ichigo exclaimed, grasping his friend on the arm, making him halt in his work. "Or a child, for that matter! And there's nothing wrong with singing!" The two men glared daggers at each other, work and hay easily forgotten, a battle of wills exchanged through their eyes. Then:
"Last time I checked," Ichigo released Renji's arm with a flourish, "I wasn't the only one who danced and played in the wilderness." The other's frown lessened slightly as he watched Ichigo drift to the entrance of the stable and lean against the open door. Renji could barely hear the boy as he whispered.
"The truth is . . . I don't want to forget."
Ichigo couldn't forget about the marvelous wonders that existed outside the abbey's walls, beyond the city streets, and in the beautiful landscapes the Austrian countryside had to offer. He and his friends, including Renji, spent their childhood playing in those fields. It was the only way they could forget the loneliness that lurked in their hearts, waiting for them back at home – the orphanage.
Nothing was known about Ichigo's past. He had been delivered to the nuns on the steps of the abbey while he was still a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. No note, no name. And so the nuns took in the orange-haired child and added him to their ever-growing collection of poor orphans they housed at the far end of the convent in one of their many spare buildings. The nuns named him, fed him, taught him, and watched him grow along with the other children that soon became his family. It didn't last long, though. Slowly, that family began to diminish; Rukia was adopted into well-off and proper famiy, Uryu disappeared to take on schooling with the money he had scrounged over the years, and Sado was reunited with his lost relatives. And so, that left Renji and Ichigo alone at the orphanage, even as younger children joined them almost every day.
But now, with Renji at twenty-four and Ichigo at twenty-one, the nuns couldn't bear to part with the sons they had raised. The boys-turned-men agreed to stay, especially when they had nowhere else to go. The young men were given jobs about the convent, orphanage and adjoining buildings; Renji and Ichigo served to watch and teach the younger children at the orphanage when the nuns weren't available as well as perform manual work, such as cleaning out the stables and courtyards or even ringing the bells for mass.
But even as he grew, Ichigo couldn't – wouldn't – forget about the happy times he spent laying under the sun in soft grassy meadows in the company of his friends, his family, even if those around him had grown to dislike his behavior. He appreciated the home and purpose he had at the abbey, but singing old songs and reliving those memories . . . It was the only way he could find beauty and peace in the miserable hell life bestowed upon him.
Ichigo sputtered yet again as a clump of straw hit him in the face. He looked in bewilderment at the red-head who wore a victorious smirk on his face. "Renji!" He scrubbed his face and hair, glaring at the elder male.
"Get out of here."
The orangette's anger melted away, staring wide-eyed at his best friend and brother. "What?"
"I said get out! Go on!" Renji shook his rake threateningly at Ichigo. His own smile grew when one melted onto the features of the younger.
"Are you serious?!"
"Yes!" Renji shouted in finality. "Now leave before I waste all of my clean straw on you!" He hoisted another clump of hay on to the rake and aimed it at his brother. Before Ichigo could notice the ruse, the orangette bolted from the stable door and rushed into the streets. With a chuckle and a sigh, Renji bent to pick up the rake that was readily tossed on the ground in favor of escape. He leaned against the stable's opening and watched the boy jog up the small hill and into the city, knowing all too well where those footsteps would lead. "Just be sure to return before the evening bells, or Sister Soifon will have your head!" he called after Ichigo, although he was sure the boy hadn't heard a word he said.
A rare, delighted smile broke out across Ichigo's face as he climbed higher into the alpine meadow. The astounding view of the landscape – the rolling hills and lush forests, glittering lakes and majestic mountains, just like in his dreams – only served to fuel the overwhelming feelings of happiness and peace that threatened to consume him with bliss. It had been much too long.
Ichigo stood for a moment, overlooking the valley below, and closed his eyes, a hand in his hair. Breathing deep, the earthy pine of the meadow washed over his senses, the heady scent prickling along the edge of his mind. The sunlight danced across his skin, warm and almost smooth to the touch, as a soft breeze tugged lightly at his clothing, begging him to step further into the peaceful setting. Ichigo opened his eyes with a sigh, half relief and half elation, and his arm fell to his side.
Nothing had changed.
The orangette continued his carefree stroll through the tall grass as it swayed gently in the breeze, letting nature itself be his guide, and he soon found himself in the company of a grove of young birch trees. Ichigo admired the marbled bark, tracing the papery texture with light fingertips. The leaf ceiling above glowed a vibrant green, casting pretty shadows about Ichigo's feet. A brook trickled and laughed nearby as it tripped and fell over stones on its way.
Leaning against a tree, Ichigo felt a wave of calm settle over him. It was something about the countryside that seemed to make everything . . . right. He knew that, whenever he felt lonely, especially after his friends left the orphanage, he could go to the hills and have his heart be filled with memories of laughter and joy and belonging. It was incredible, a beautiful and wonderful feeling, but at the same time had no name. It made his heart want to beat like the wings of the birds, to rise high above the lakes and trees and into the crystal blue sky, and to sigh like a chime that flew from a church caught on a breeze. And yet, the source remained unknown.
A soft laugh escaped pretty pink lips. Perhaps it was like the old folksong Ichigo had learned as a child and it was the hills themselves that completed his lonely heart. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, a light hum snuck past Ichigo's lips and the song came tumbling forth.
"The hills are alive with the sound of music with songs they have sung for a thousand years. The hills fill my heart with the sound of music. My heart wants to sing every song it hears."
Ichigo carefully slid down the tree trunk until he was sitting at the base on the feathery carpet of soft green. He let his head fall back, pesky orange bangs falling over his eyes, resting against the sturdy trunk. Maybe it was the sound of music that brought him such happiness, he thought, a lazy smile on his face. It made sense, with the amount of singing he seemed to do. Chocolate orbs disappeared behind drooping lids as the orangette silently slipped into a deep sleep.
Perhaps then, even when the time came to leave the hills, the sound of music would bring Ichigo happiness in another way . . .
When he woke, several hours had passed and the sun had drifted closer to the horizon. Long shadows traced patterns on the meadow grass and the once-dreaming orangette. Ichigo managed to stand and stretch, letting out a contented sigh when he felt the clicks and pops of his spine shifting back into place. He reached out and gently patted the birch tree in parting before stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaving the grove, slow reluctant feel scuffing in the tall grass.
The dreamy smile on Ichigo's face all but faded away as the sound of church bells drifted up the hillside. Orange brows furrowed in confusion as the low tolls continued, halting Ichigo's steps.
The . . . bells?
"Shit!"
With the sudden realization that he'd slept the day away, despite Renji's warning, and that the evening bells were now calling, Ichigo took off running as fast as he could across the field, leaving his precious alpine meadow behind for the call of the city and of home. The Sisters would be waiting for him when the mass ended.
And he was going to be late.
In the courtyard of the abbey, nuns moved with an unhurried grace, drifting silently across the cobblestone floor. Black habits and hooded wimples framed their faces and hid their hair. Young novices, too, smocked in grey aprons walked calmly in their company, carrying Bibles with them into chapel.
Rich stained glass windows captured the golden sunlight that filtered into the chapel, wrapping the meditating souls in its divine colors. Young and old, the sisters filed into the small sanctuary, kneeling in the pews beside intricately carved statues of saints and notable figures that lined the room. A choir of nuns stood high above in a balcony, their soothing hymn echoing lightly around the praying figures below.
Before the altar, three nuns knelt before the Madonna and Child aglow with the warm light of many candles. At the center was the Reverend Mother, her white-gloved hands clasped gently in prayer. Formerly known as Retsu Unohana, the woman raised her gently rounded face to the artistic rendering, blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. The choir's song drifted away as church bells began to ring.
The Reverend Mother slowly rose to her feet and turned to the congregation of sisters, crossing herself before them. A chorus of "Alleluia" ended the simple service of prayer and meditation.
The Reverend Mother now walked along the quiet courtyard, the same two sisters who knelt beside her at the altar on either side, when she was approached by another young nun.
"Reverend Mother?"
The kind woman paused, as did her company, and replied in a soft voice. "Sister Isane?"
"I simply cannot find him," the nun said, looking dismayed.
"Ichigo?" A tentative nod was her answer.
"He's missing again."
A light scoff beside the Reverend Mother gathered their attention, and the tender woman turned to face the Mistress of Novices. "Perhaps we should have put a cowbell around his neck," Sister Soifon remarked with a stiff smile. The idea made the Mother Unohana shake her head with a thin smile of her own.
"Have you tried the stables and barn?" The gentle yet cheery question came from the Mistress of Postulants, Sister Orihime.
"I have, and Renji said he hasn't seen the boy since early this afternoon. I have looked everywhere in all of the usual places."
"Sister Isane," Mother Unohana addressed the young nun, "considering that it's Ichigo, I suggest you look in someplace unusual." The girl paused lightly at the suggestion, pondering over the advice before tipping her head and walked away, leaving the three nuns to continue across the almost empty courtyard.
"Well, Reverend Mother," said Sister Soifon, her tone harsh, "I hope this new infraction ends whatever doubts you may still have about Ichigo's future here."
But the woman remained gentle in her response. "I always try to keep faith in my doubts, Sister Soifon."
"After all, the wool of a black sheep is just as warm," Sister Orihime supplied.
The Mistress of Novices frowned as her temper began to show. "We are not talking about sheep, black or white, Sister Orihime. What Renji told Sister Isane was obviously a lie. He knows Ichigo best out of all of us, and I'm certain he knows where that orange-haired menace ran off to. It only proves my point further – that boy doesn't belong here!"
Before the argument could get out of hand any further, Mother Unohana chided them with firm words. "Children, children." She noticed several nuns had gathered not too far away from them, staring with worried and puzzled expressions. She took a few steps towards the small group. "We were speculating the character of a certain individual. The Mistress of Novices and the Mistress of Postulants," she said, gesturing to each, "were trying to help me by expressing opposite points of view." She turned to the first of the other nuns. "Tell me, Sister Nanao, what do you think of . . . Ichigo?"
"He's a wonderful boy . . . some of the time," she said stepping forward, her glasses reflecting in the low light.
"Sister Kiyone?"
"It's easy to like Ichigo, Reverend Mother . . . except when it's, uh," the girl said, shrugging, "not."
"And you, Sister Momo?"
"Oh, I care about him very dearly," the last nun replied, but she paused, thinking. "But he always seems to be in trouble."
"Exactly what I say!" Sister Soifon exclaimed. "He's never where he's supposed to be – he always goes climbing trees, running through the countryside, scraping himself in some form and ruining the good clothes we provide for him."
"He's more likely to mess about in his duties when he should be helping about the orphanage or tending to his other work about the Abbey," Sister Nanao stated, adjusting her glasses, with Sister Kiyone adding, "I've even heard him singing and whistling in the Abbey!"
All the while the Reverend Mother remained silent as the nuns continued to supply complaints about their 'son.' Sister Soifon continued her protest: "He's always late for everything –"
" – Except for every meal!" Sister Kiyone cut in.
"I hate to have to say it," the Mistress of Novices stated, steepling her fingers, the false sympathy quite evident in her voice, "but I very firmly feel it: Ichigo's no longer an asset to the Abbey."
"I'd like to say a word on his behalf!" announced the Mistress of Postulants, ending her silence with a delicate tap of her foot, bowing her head to the Reverend Mother.
"Then say it, Sister Orihime."
"Ichigo . . . makes me . . . laugh!" she proclaimed, a giggle escaping with her smile. Sister Soifon only scowled at the words, the other's mirth slipping away at the stern frown. Mother Unohana simply shook her head, smiling lightly, at the exchange.
The Reverend Mother turned to address all of the gathered nuns. "How do you solve a problem like Ichigo?" she pondered and supplied another inquiry before the women could answer: "How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?" The nuns stood vexed by the question, unsure of what to make of the hidden riddle. They slowly began to follow Mother Unohana as she glided across the cobblestone courtyard. "Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him – how he should act, speak, work – and all those things he ought to understand," she reasoned.
"But how do you make him stay and listen to all you say?" Sister Soifon questioned, her frustrations shaping further into the frown she wore.
But the woman only continued to smile and countered. "How do you keep a wave upon the sand?"
"Oh, but Reverend Mother . . ." She turned to the young soft-spoken Sister Momo. The girl hesitated before she spoke. "When I'm with Ichigo, everything becomes so confusing and out of focus. He talks endlessly of his dream-worlds and I get so dazed and distracted. Truthfully, as much as I care about the boy, I never really know exactly where I am when Ichigo's around. He makes everything seem so much harder." She wrung her hands gently as the others around her added their worth.
"He's as unpredictable as weather with that temper of his, always fighting and cursing without thinking."
"He could out-pester any pest, like driving a hornet from its own nest."
Sister Orihime protested, "But he's a darling!"
"He's a demon! And a headache!" Sister Soifon countered.
"He's an angel!"
Mother Unohana put her hands up with a steely smile, silencing the arguing nuns. "He's a boy," she sighed. "You ask how to solve a problem like Ichigo, and in turn I'll ask you again." She turned to fully face the Sisters, expression softening. "How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?" Finally the nuns seemed to grasp the hidden meaning behind the riddles, their voices gone completely silent as their eyes drifted down to the cobblestone floor.
Ichigo was impossible.
Suddenly, a resounding echo easily filled the empty courtyard as a door slammed shut. The startled nuns gazed in the direction of running footsteps as they traveled closer, the harsh slaps on the stone growing louder. Predictably, a shock of orange hair could be seen as Ichigo raced headlong into the courtyard, stopping only for a moment to snatch a handful of water at a nearby pump and greedily gulp it down. He tore past the nuns only to stop dead in his tracks, whipping around to come face-to-face with the Reverend Mother. Chocolate eyes widened as the orangette cautiously took a step back from the Sisters.
"Ichigo, may I have a word with you later?" Mother Unohana asked politely, an idea already forming in her mind.
The young man nodded, regaining some of his usual composure when a scowl crept across his face. He slumped slightly as he turned away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and continued through the courtyard at a much more reasonable speed.
The nuns only shook their heads in dismay as they watched him go before finally dispersing to their chambers for the evening.
Ichigo found himself leaning against a cold stone wall before the Reverend Mother's office. The dark, austere hallway did nothing to lift the feelings of dread and dismay twisting in his stomach. He knew the Sisters had been discussing him, and that's why he was about to face Mother Unohana. His stomach lurched at the thought of whatever punishments the Mistress of Novices wanted to lay out on him for his 'disobedience.'
The orangette's scowl deepened at the notion, but cleared his thoughts when the door to the office unlocked and out stepped Sister Orihime.
With the kindest smile, she said, "You may go in now, Ichigo." Anxiety rushed to the surface as the boy's warm eyes looked past the Sister to gaze at the partly open door. Ichigo felt a gentle squeeze on his arm and he smiled gratefully at the Mistress of Postulants. That young woman would surely become a saint. But when she moved away, all Ichigo could do was take a deep breath and step into the office.
The Reverend Mother was seated at her desk reading over some papers when she heard the door shut quietly and looked up to see the young orangette waiting by the door. Setting aside the documents, she called out to him from where he stood clinging to the wall, it seemed. "Come here, my child."
Ichigo stiffly walked over to the Abbess and knelt to respectfully kiss her hand, just as he had been taught in all his years at the orphanage.
"Now, sit down."
For the tough and stubborn attitude the boy portrayed, it all seemed to unravel now before her. "Reverend Mother, I'm so sorry," Ichigo apologized, burying his face in his hands. "I just couldn't help myself. Renji and I had almost finished the work in the stables, and he said I could go, that it was no problem. And the sky was so blue today and everything was so green; the hills were beckoning and I just had to be a part of it –"
"Ichigo." The man looked up. "I haven't summoned you here for apologies," Mother Unohana said with a small smile. Ichigo shivered slightly; for as lovely as the woman was, the Reverend Mother forever had a threatening aura about her even with a gentle face.
"You haven't?" The kindly woman shook her head slowly. Damn. Then what had she . . . ? He sighed. "But there is something I should apologize for."
"Oh?"
"Lately, I can't seem to stop singing wherever I am," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. He wasn't ashamed the he, a boy, enjoyed singing. Oh, no. But it sometimes made things a bit awkward or difficult while working throughout the abbey with the Sisters. "And what's worse, I can't stop saying anything and everything that comes across my mind."
"Some people would call that honesty," said Mother Unohana.
"But it's not right, not around here! And I hate it! It's not what you and the Sisters have taught us at the orphanage, Reverend Mother. You know how Sister Soifon always makes me kiss the floor after we've had a disagreement?" The Abbess was familiar with that particular practice, seen many times used on the candidates of the novitiate. "Well, I've taken to kissing the damn floor when I see the bitch coming – just to save time!" He froze when he realized what had slipped from his mouth and in front of whom, brown eyes wide with fear and instant regret.
Mother Unohana closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. It seemed Ichigo was well aware of the wrongs he'd committed and even felt the guilt of his actions, but she couldn't help but feel this wasn't the place for the orange-haired boy, no matter how much she disliked agreeing with Sister Soifon. Well, then, maybe her idea would be successful. Blue eyes opened again.
"Ichigo, what is the most important lesson you have learned here, my child?" she asked the orangette.
His scowl began to reform at the thought; he might not entirely believe in everything the nuns had taught him, but he wouldn't forget his lessons. "To find out what is the will of God and to do it wholeheartedly."
The Reverend Mother rose from her desk to walk closer to the young man. "Then, Ichigo, it seems to be the will of God that you leave us."
"Leave?!" He all but leapt from his chair.
"Only for a while, Ichigo."
"Oh, no, Mother! Please don't do that! Don't send me away!" he begged frantically. Ichigo could feel his heart sink to the floor; he knew even with Renji's company he felt awkward with life in the abbey, like he was out of place. He knew he would have to leave someday but . . . "This is where I belong. It's my home, my family. It's my life."
The Reverend Mother raised a delicate brow. "Are you sure of that?"
"Yes." The answer was immediate. Mother Unohana could only sigh at his stubbornness.
"Ichigo, I can't help but think there's another life out there waiting for you. Perhaps if you go out into the world for a time, you will have the chance to find it."
"But I have everything I need here, Mother. I promise I –"
"Ichigo." He gazed into the nun's stern, frightening yet kind face.
"Yes, Mother." He sunk back down into his chair, the scowl evident in his voice. "If it's God's will."
The Abbess walked behind her desk again to retrieve a small letter from the papers there. Reading it over carefully, she spoke, "There is a family near Salzburg that needs a governess until September."
Ichigo fidgeted in his seat. "Reverend Mother." She looked up. "You said . . . a governess?"
"Yes, is something the matter?"
He shook his head and chuckled dryly. "Last time I checked, I wasn't a woman."
A mischievous smile crept on to the Reverend Mother's face. "I think a . . . change in perspective is in order."
Ichigo eyed her suspiciously, but then sighed, slumping back in the chair and scrubbing his face. "Until September . . ." he muttered.
"To take care of seven children."
"Seven children!" Mother Unohana noted how Ichigo jolted at the words, eyes rounded and orange brows practically nestled in his hairline.
"Don't you like children, Ichigo?" She very well knew how he helped tend for the young ones at the orphanage.
"Well . . . yes, but . . . seven?" he asked, skeptical.
The Abbess sat behind her desk and retrieved a pen and ink with a sheet of paper, ignoring the young man's question. "I will tell Captain Jaegerjaques to expect you tomorrow," she said decidedly as she began to write the letter.
"Uh, Captain?"
Mother Unohana smiled gently as her pen scratched across the paper. "A retired officer of the Imperial Navy. A fine man and a brave one. His wife died several years ago leaving him alone with the children. Now, I understand he's had a most difficult time managing to keep a governess there."
"Why 'difficult,' Reverend Mother?" That mischievous smile was back.
"The Lord will show you in His own good time."
Orange brows rose dubiously as Ichigo watched the Reverend Mother finish writing the letter. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
The next day began as any other as Ichigo and Renji tended to their duties around the orphanage and convent. But soon enough, it was time for the orangette to pack for the journey awaiting him.
Renji relaxed in a chair as he watched Ichigo stuff the small amount of clothing he owned into a carpetbag alongside the everyday necessities. He was quiet the whole while; it would be difficult for the both of them, to be separated for so long from the only family one had. The soft click of the bag caught Renji's attention as Ichigo hefted the small luggage from the bed. The simple room – their room, shared between the two since they were young – already felt empty without the orangette's belongings.
The red-head stood grabbing the guitar case that contained one of Ichigo's most prized possessions. He knew just as much as anyone how much Ichigo cherished his guitar, how much money he saved to buy the instrument and how he taught himself to play.
An orange brow rose at Renji's actions, but the elder male simply shrugged and gestured to the door. "I'll walk with you to the bus stop."
Before Ichigo knew it, they were stepping out of the abbey, the iron gates clanking back into place, and walking along the stone streets of the city. With one last sad and wistful scowl, Ichigo turned away from his home and followed after his brother.
Renji remained silent the entire walk, leaving Ichigo to mull over his thoughts about the Captain and seven children he was about to meet. Why was he so frightened about leaving the abbey? He'd always longed for adventure when he was younger, and he still did in most ways. Never before had he left the city; the closest he came to it was when he wandered about in the countryside. It could be exciting to go out into the world, explore something new. He should be rejoicing for the opportunity to face things he'd never dared before. There was nothing fearsome about a captain and seven children.
Ichigo sighed and looked up to find they had reached the bus stop. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey." Renji gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Remember what the Sisters taught us long ago?" Ichigo smiled lightly at the thought. "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." The orangette turned to embrace his brother in a tight hug. "I have confidence in you, Ichigo, and you should, too." Renji released the younger man from his hold and handed off the guitar case.
"Thank you, Renji," Ichigo replied softly, a smile gracing his face. The red-head returned the gesture. With a small wave, Ichigo boarded the rumbling bus and took off on the next part of his journey.
Despite all the bumps and stops along the way, Ichigo remained calm in his seat and watched the Austrian landscape drift by. He thought it over a few times in his head. He had to stop all these doubts and worries and have confidence in himself like Renji said. He'd take on all the problems thrown at him and do his best, better than his best even. Dammit, somehow he'd impress them, show them he wasn't helpless just because of where he came from. He would address the children just like he did with those at the orphanage; he would be firm but kind, and they would look up to him and mind him as their elder. Everything would turn out fine as long as he had confidence. So caught up in his thoughts, Ichigo hardly noticed when the bus came to a stop, reaching his destination.
With a little difficulty from his guitar case – the damn thing always managed to get stuck in doorways – Ichigo stepped off the bus and on to a tree-lined gravel road. A quick glance around told the orangette where he needed to go and, tightening his grip on his luggage, Ichigo set off down the road. Now that he was so close, Ichigo could feel his heart start pumping enthusiastically in his chest. Whether it was happy or nervous, he wasn't sure, but he had a rough idea when a huge and intricate iron gate came into view.
Stumbling slightly at the sight, Ichigo peered in to meet the front of an imposing, elegant manor. He could already feel his confidence leaking away. Help. "Oh, shit." He hesitated for a moment before reaching for iron handle to open the gate, the metal cool under nervous fingers. Cautiously, he stepped inside, the gravel crunching underfoot, and latched the gate once more. Staring up at the impressive house, Ichigo couldn't help wonder what his future would be in such a home. There was only one way to find out.
Courage seizing him once again, Ichigo practically sprinted across the circular gravel driveway in front of the manor, tripping over his own feet once, and came to a harsh stop before the front door. Ichigo set his guitar case down and pressed the doorbell. The moment of adrenaline seemed to finally dissipate as he leaned against the wall, breathing heavy from the exhausting long walk and his last-minute dash to the door. Just as his breaths evened out, the grand door opened to reveal a man wearing a black waistcoat, tie, and slacks. The unenthusiastic-faced man had a head of wavy, dark brown hair that ended around the base of his neck, surprisingly unkempt, and a faded goatee on his chin. The sleepy, stormy blue eyes widened slightly as he was taken aback to find a young man in such homely clothes leaning against the portal.
"Oh!" Ichigo instantly straightened. "Hello, I'm here from the convent."
The older man gave Ichigo a doubtful look. The orangette attempted a pleasant smile although a scowl beckoned to be released.
"I'm the new tutor for the children, Captain."
The man's sleepy expression returned. "And I'm the old butler."
"Oh." Ichigo could feel the tips of his ears burn red with his embarrassment. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, too. "Well, how do you do?" He shook the butler's hand firmly and received no change in expression. Instead, the man turned back into the house, leaving the door open for Ichigo to follow. The orangette frowned a little as he picked up his guitar case and entered the house.
Correction: The house was a mansion. Cocoa eyes grew round like saucers as Ichigo took in the opulence of the front hall. The room was huge, with doorways lining each side. On either side of Ichigo were staircases leading to the much higher second level. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, its dangling crystal decorations glittering wildly in its light.
With one last dubious glance at Ichigo, the butler stepped down the small set of stairs. "You'll, uh, wait here please," he stated and disappeared through one of the many doors.
As if in a trance, Ichigo slowly made his way down the stairs and set his baggage down. The hall was decorated with gilded furniture, all shades of golds and browns. Pleasant colors against the shocking and spotless white walls. A few mirrors and paintings hung on the walls as well. Balconies lined the upper level, holding even more doors. Ichigo took soft steps across the gleaming wood floor, marveling at the details about the room. He stopped before one of the closed doors and peaked through the crack; he couldn't help himself. Curiosity got the best of him and he tried the knob, happy when it turned under his hand.
The orangette was greeted by what appeared to be a dark ballroom. He gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was magnificent. Ichigo spun slowly in the center of the ballroom, chocolate eyes wide in wonder, soaking in the extravagance the dance hall exuded. Despite the dusty appearance and cloth-covered chandelier, the shimmering walls glowed from the ceiling-to-floor windows as sunlight flittered through the glass and highlighted the golden decorations that hid in the seemingly old and unused room. He could only imagine all the people it held, the wonderful parties and playful music and dancing that illuminated the ballroom in the past. What he wouldn't give to experience a party like that!
Ichigo's thoughts were disturbed by a harsh crash as the ballroom doors burst open to reveal a taller man dressed in a fine suit. The stern look upon his face gave the orangette only a moment to escape the room at a brisk pace, slipping past the man as he held the door open for the younger male.
"In the future, you will kindly remember there are certain rooms in this house which are not to be disturbed."
Ichigo held his breath at the harsh commanding tone the man presented with his words; the rough baritone rumbled with the thunder of storm, Ichigo decided. The doors clicked shut as the man stepped back into the main hall and came to face the new tutor for his family.
"Yes, Captain, sir."
The man, Captain Jaegerjaques, stood a few inches over Ichigo, his suit now a noticeable charcoal grey with a simple black tie. His face was all hard angles with a straight nose and high cheek bones. What caught Ichigo's attention was the captain's porcelain blue hair styled in an organized chaos that contrasted greatly with the man's composed appearance. Three strands hung over his forehead, as if they meant to claw at his face. Deep eyes swirled with the clearest of ocean waters and summer skies, holding almost every shade of blue imaginable, threatening to pull in anyone in if they weren't too careful. The Captain Jaegerjaques was certainly a handsome man, there was no denying it.
"Why do you stare at me that way?" Ichigo started slightly at the captain's voice, ending his musings. He noted one blue brow arched in suspicion at his silence. A light blush crept across Ichigo's face after he realized he'd been staring for far too long.
"You don't look at all like a sea captain, sir," Ichigo supplied. It wasn't a lie, really. This man didn't appear like he'd spent a lifetime of struggles upon a warship at sea.
The captain's brow furrowed in a light frown. "And I'm afraid you don't look very much like a governess."
Ichigo's flush was gone and replaced with a scowl in an instant. "I'm certain the Reverend Mother explained the situation in her letter," he answered stiffly.
Captain Jaegerjaques only hummed in thought, frown still in place. "Hmm, turn around, please."
"What?"
"Turn." And so the young man did. He could feel the captain's intense eyes inspecting him, scrutinizing the plainclothes he wore. When he came to face the blue-haired man again, the captain hissed in distaste. "It's your clothes. You'll have to change into another outfit before you meet the children."
Baffled and frustration growing, Ichigo said, "But I don't have another one. Surely the Reverend Mother explained who I am, where I come from." Blue eyes met brown. "I stayed at the orphanage, sir. I have no other possessions that what you see on me. The only reason I remained at the abbey was to help with the younger children at the orphanage, which is my guess as to why the Reverend Mother sent me here."
The captain seemed to look him over once more, his frown growing. "Well," he rumbled, "I'll see that more proper clothes will be brought to you." Captain Jaegerjaques straightened and approached Ichigo with confident yet careful steps. "Now . . ." When the words didn't come, he snapped his fingers a few times and pointed to the orangette.
"Ichigo, sir," he said. Then added: "Just Ichigo."
"Ichigo," the captain tested the name. "I don't know how much the Mother Unohana has told you." He slowly began to circle Ichigo as he spoke, hands clasped behind his back.
"Not much . . ."
"You are the twelfth in a long line of governesses, who have come to look after my children since their mother died. I trust, with your new perspective," he practically sneered at the word, "that you will be an improvement on the last one. She stayed only two hours."
What?! Carefully, the young man asked, "What's wrong with the children, sir?"
Captain Jaegerjaques paused, blue eyes piercing Ichigo where he stood. "There's nothing wrong with the children – only the governesses," he stated with a harsh tone of finality.
"Oh."
The captain continued his walk. "They were completely unable to maintain discipline. Without it, this house cannot be properly run. You will please remember that."
"Yes, sir." Ichigo was starting to feel like one of this man's sailors, the temptation to 'break rank' undoubtedly growing.
"Every morning you will drill the children in their studies. I will not permit them to dream away their summer holidays. Each afternoon, they will march about the grounds, breathing deeply. Bedtime is to be strictly observed, no exceptions."
"Excuse me, sir," Ichigo cut in, "when do they play?" Surely they did; they were children, for heaven's sake!
But the captain ignored him. "You will see to it that they conduct themselves at all times with the utmost orderliness and decorum. I'm placing you in command."
Ichigo couldn't help it this time. The man was asking for it. "Yes, sir!" he answered with an overly enthusiastic salute. He composed himself quickly when Captain Jaegerjaques glared at him. Ichigo only raised his eyebrows at him innocently, but inside he wore a confident smirk.
Abruptly, with a flash of metal, Captain Jaegerjaques pulled a silver whistle from his pocket and sent a shrill cry through the house, frown still in place. Ichigo's jaw dropped in surprise. What the hell . . . ? The blue-haired captain blew another call and gazed expectantly up at the floor above. Within seconds, thunderous, pounding footsteps sounded from the second-level balconies. The orangette whipped around, brown eyes darting to find the source, subconsciously sliding in beside the captain for cover, shocked at the sight that greeted him. What he didn't see was the wicked grin that passed over Jaegerjaques' face, relishing in the orangette's reaction. Two could play at this game.
Ichigo watched as six children dashed out of the many rooms lining the second level, slamming the doors behind them. Wearing identical grey uniforms, looking much like young sailors, the children lined up along the balcony railing, standing at attention. Captain Jaegerjaques began to blow his whistle again, this time in a rhythmic pattern, sending the children into a brisk march down the stairs and into the hall.
The first in line was a pretty young girl with wheat-grey eyes, her rounded face framed by long waves of sea foam hair. The next was a raven-haired boy, hair much like Ichigo's own, with bright aqua green eyes. Behind him marched a girl with long flowing purple haired tied back in a ponytail with mischievous golden eyes. Then, another boy with black hair similar to his brother's and two little girls, one with bright lime green hair and the other with a head of pink. Responding to the captain's final whistles, the children were once again standing tall in a straight line. Ichigo frowned at the sizeable gap between the second boy and green-haired girl; one of the children was missing.
In that moment, a dreamy-eyed girl with deep purple hair tied back in a simple ribbon wandered into the room, her nose buried in a book. Bright amber eyes glanced up from the book to meet the frowning blue of her father as he approached and held out his hand. Slowly, she closed the book and gave it to him, turning around to take her place in line. She bent over slightly, and the captain delivered a scolding tap on her rear with the book before she spun around to complete the line-up.
Captain Jaegerjaques paced back and forth before the children, inspecting his young troops with a keen eye. He straightened the younger boy's collar with a firm tug, the boy stiffening at the gesture. Nearing the end of the line, he noted the elder boy's posture. "Hup!" He straightened his shoulders, and his son did the same, puffing out his chest.
"Now," Jaegerjaques stated, dropping the book on a nearby table, "this is your new tutor, Ichigo." All of the children flicked their gazes to the orangette standing awkwardly off to the side. He could easily read the disapproval and skepticism in their eyes.
"As I sound your signals you will step forward and give your name." The captain turned to Ichigo, almost growling. "You will listen carefully. Learn their signals, so that you can call them when you want them." The blunette then blew a variety of whistles and calls, each child marching forward in kind and announcing their name before stepping back into place.
"Nelliel!"
"Kaien!"
"Yoruichi!"
"Shuuhei!"
"Senna!"
"Mashiro!"
The last and littlest girl refused to step out at her signal. Only on the second whistle did she step out, but let out a gasp of air before stepping back in. Her miserable little frown was obviously directed at her father. Ichigo couldn't help but smile in amusement at the act.
"Yachiru," Jaegerjaques grumbled, returning the frown. He cleared his throat and pulled another whistle from his pocket, holding it out to Ichigo. "Now, let's see how well you listened."
Ichigo shook his head, pushing the shining device away. "I won't need one, captain. I'll use their names." They really were quite nice and he had every intention of using them.
Jaegerjaques' brows furrowed deeper and the man let out an irritated sigh. "Ichigo," he said, commandingly, "this is a very large house, the grounds are very extensive, and I will not have anyone shouting. You will take this, please, and learn to use it. The children will help you." Ichigo reluctantly accepted the whistle being shoved into his hand. "Now, when I want you, this is what you will hear."
Before the captain could play whatever ridiculous, obnoxious tune it was on his whistle, Ichigo shouted, "No, sir, wait!" The blunette glared at the young man for the interruption. "I could never answer to a whistle. Whistles are for animals, but not for children and definitely not for me!" He watched the man's grip on the whistle tighten dangerously.
"Ichigo," Captain Jaegerjaques said carefully, "were you this much trouble back home at the Abbey?"
The orangette smirked with his reply. "Oh, much more, sir."
The man was quiet at the answer and relinquished his hold on the silver whistle. He then began to walk away without another word. Smirk still in place, Ichigo blew the whistle as high and as loud as he could. The resulting shriek made the captain stop and look back at him, the expression on his face laced with anger and annoyance.
"Excuse me, sir," Ichigo said, feigning innocence. "I don't know your signal."
Jaegerjaques managed to restrain himself, lest his fiery temper break loose. "You may call me 'Captain,'" he stated, bitterly, letting some of his impatience seep through. Vicious glacial ice bore into Ichigo for one last moment before he exited the front hall, disappearing into the rooms of the mansion.
The orangette smiled in victory as he watched the man leave, the giggles of the children bubbling up beside him. Ichigo spun back to face the line of youngsters, each of them snapping back to attention with their eyes staring straight ahead to meet their new tutor. Ichigo sighed and ran a hand through his riotous hair. "At ease." The children easily melted into the next position; in unison, they placed their hands behind their backs in a more lax stance. The Jaegerjaques' sure were a well-trained bunch.
"Well, now that there's just us," Ichigo said, glancing up and down the line, hope lighting his words "would you please tell me all your names again and how old you are?" He gestured towards the eldest girl.
She stepped forward still in a military fashion, her feet clacking against the smooth wooden floor.
"I'm Nelliel," she stated with her nose in the air. "I'm sixteen years old, and I don't need a governess." She gave him another once over, before clicking back into place. "Or a tutor."
Ichigo's lips pulled into a thin line. It wasn't exactly a good start, but it was a start nonetheless. "I'm glad you told me, Nelliel," he said, slipping a hand into a pocket. "We'll just be friends." And so the order continued.
"I'm Kaien. I'm fourteen. I'm impossible." Aqua eyes flashed from beneath dark bangs.
Laughter bubbled from the orangette. "Really? Who told you that?"
"Fraulein Harribel, four governesses ago."
The first purple-haired girl stepped forward, her face serious. "I'm Senna." She stepped back in line without a change in expression, but her two siblings before her couldn't contain their smirks.
Ichigo placed a hand on his hip with a sigh and a smile. "You, uh, didn't tell me hold you are . . . Yoruichi." The girl's face fell slightly at her failed ruse, and the other child with violet hair – the tardy bookworm – stepped forward.
"I'm Senna," she stressed, pointing to herself. "She's Yoruichi. She's thirteen years old, and you're smart. I'm ten," she, too, gave Ichigo another look, her lip curling in distaste, "and I think your clothes are the ugliest I ever saw." She gave a stiff final nod as if to confirm her thoughts.
Onyx eyes widened in shock as the little boy next to her spoke with a start. "Senna, you shouldn't say that."
Senna spun to face her brother. "Well, why not? Don't you think they're ugly?" she asked, completely ignoring the fact that Ichigo was standing right there.
The boy eyed Ichigo's outfit. "Of course. But Fraulein Sarugaki's was the ugliest." He stepped forward. "I'm Shuuhei. I'm eleven. I'm incorrigible."
The corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile as Ichigo moved down the line. "Congratulations." But he turned back when he heard the young boy speak again.
"Um . . . What's 'incorrigible?'"
With a thoughtful look, and knowing from first-hand experience how the young boy's mind worked, Ichigo replied, "I think it means you want to be treated like a boy." Shuuhei's face brightened with a smile which only served to make Ichigo's grow. He felt a slight tug on the sleeve of his shirt, and he looked down to find the little girl with the brightest green hair staring up at him. An orange brow quirked at the glittering chestnut brown eyes.
"I'm Mashiro," she told him excitedly, "and I'm going to be seven on Tuesday, and I'd like a pink parasol."
Ichigo brushed his hand gently over the girl's vibrant hair. "Well, I think pink's a lovely color," he offered her with a smile. But there was a stamp of a foot, and caramel eyes met rusty brown to see the youngest child standing determined with her hands on her hips. Ichigo chuckled at the sight. "Yes, you're Yachiru."
The pink head bobbed up and down enthusiastically and she held up her hand showing all five fingers.
"And you're five years old? My, you're practically a lady."
Mashiro and Yachiru giggled at the orangette's words, all smiles. Ichigo returned it before glancing at the line of children from Nelliel to little Yachiru. "Now, I have a secret to tell you." He let out a sigh and scratched at the back of his neck, peeking out from behind his orange bangs. "I've never officially been a tutor before."
The children instantly took to the news, the mischief easily recognizable on their faces as they looked to one another.
Nelliel was the first to speak. "You mean you don't know anything about being a tutor?"
Ichigo shrugged. "Nothing proper. I'll need lots of advice." He would later regret his words. The children instantly began to crowd around him, interjecting with their thoughts and so-called 'advice.'
"Well, the best way to start is to be sure to tell father to mind his own business," Nelliel stated, getting quite close in Ichigo's face.
"You must never come to dinner on time," Kaien said, sneaking in by Ichigo's shoulder.
Senna, almost underneath his arm, said, "Never eat your soup quietly." Kaien emphasized the fact by slurping loudly in the orange-haired tutor's ear.
"And, during dessert, always blow your nose," Shuuhei chimed in.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the barrage of information and the tight pack of children around him, Ichigo started at the tight grasp that latched around his waist. He looked down to see Yachiru with a frown on her face.
"Don't believe a word they say, Ichigo!"
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because I like you!" she said with another squeeze to his midsection.
The children's advice was quickly ended by the sound of loud clapping, and all the youngsters' heads turned to see quite the chubby woman enter the foyer. Bright fuchsia hair sat knotted on the woman's head, a few errant strands attempting to escape, and as she approached Ichigo noticed her lips stained black with gloss and curled into a gentle smile. "All right now, children. Outside for your walk. Father's orders," she said to the dismayed faces that did little to dissuade her. "Now hurry up. Hurry up. Quick, quick, quick, quick, quick." The children slowly moved away from their new tutor, some guided by a hand on their shoulder by the woman. Reluctantly, the young ones wandered to the front door.
The woman finally turned to the orangette. "Ichigo? I'm Frau Hikifune, the housekeeper."She extended a somewhat slender hand to the young man. Surprised that unlike all the other members of the household this woman had overlooked his appearances, Ichigo was belated in his response.
"Oh, yes!" he said, breaking from his stupor and finally shaking her hand. "How do you do, Frau Hikifune?"
The housekeeper gave Ichigo a tender smile, one that reminded him of Mother Unohana back at the abbey. "How do you do. I'll show you to your room now. Follow me." She indicated to the stairs with a light wave of her hand. Frau Hikifune shuffled to the front steps and bent to pick up Ichigo's carpet bag, maneuvering around the Jaegerjaques children that had yet to disappear out the open door for their walk. The orangette quickly followed, retrieving his guitar and venturing up the first few stairs behind the portly woman.
Something wasn't right, though. Ichigo could feel it – quite literally, as something in his pocket began to squirm uncontrollably and scramble for the opening in his jacket. "What? Ah!" Ichigo dropped his guitar case and hurriedly reached into his pocket to fish out the unexpected creature. With a surprised jump and one last yelp, he pulled a frog from his pocket and flung it down the stairs, conveniently landing at the feet of the youngest Jaegerjaques. Wide brown eyes watched as the innocent frog creeped along the floor and out the open front door, a sigh of relief brushing past his lips.
"You're very lucky."
Ichigo's attention snapped back to the housekeeper who stood only a few steps above him, a frown marring her face.
"With Fraulein Harribel it was a snake."
Orange brows furrowed as Ichigo fixed the children with a steely glare, one he knew could wither flowers and had used at the orphanage. The young culprits, who had paused to watch their new tutor scramble on the steps, only returned his look solemnly and continued with their march out the door.
"Come along now," Frau Hikifune called, restarting her ascent on the stairs. Ichigo quickly patted his other pockets, relieved to find no more surprises awaited him, and picked up his guitar once again to find his new room. This was definitely going to be difficult.
He was late!
"Dammit!" Ichigo scrubbed at his riotous hair as he dashed down the stairway, carefully not to trip on the numerous steps.
The orangette couldn't believe the sheer enormity of the manor. It was simply amazing, a place Ichigo would never consider he'd step foot in. And yet here he was. He'd spent the afternoon exploring the general areas of the house, attempting to memorize which passageways lead where and which room belonged to whom. He also took care to note which rooms were off limits so as to avoid another uncomfortable encounter with Captain Jaegerjaques. The grounds were astounding with the beautiful gardens filled with absolutely gorgeous flowers and a breathtaking view of the river just beyond the backyard. He'd spent hours outside admiring the landscape before venturing back to his room.
His room, he'd been told by Frau Hikifune, had previously belonged to all the preceding governesses that came before him. The housekeeper had stated that the quarters weren't anything special, but she smiled at the baffled expression Ichigo had given her.
"This is mine?" he'd asked, his eyebrows nestled in his hairline. It was nothing like what he'd experienced back at the orphanage. This wasn't a flimsy straw mattress and thin sheets; no, the golden duvet and pristine white bedding on the very large, very comfy mattress spoke otherwise. Frau Hikifune reassured him that the room belonged to him for as long as his stay would be at the manor. She had also produced many clean new outfits for the orangette to try, all approved by the captain himself. Now, all cleaned up from his journey, Ichigo currently wore a slate gray dress shirt tucked into the waistband of freshly pressed black slacks.
And he was late for dinner.
Recalling Frau Hikifune's kind instructions, Ichigo easily located the dining room. He skidded to a halt at the entryway, a hand on the frame to keep his balance. To his horror, the entire Jaegerjaques family was seated at a long table, the children now dressed in coats and dresses to match their father's own formal attire, plates with steaming food already set before them, waiting. One lone chair sat at the opposite end of the table, vacant – his chair. Seven pairs of young eyes perked to pin the frazzled lad with amused glances when Ichigo hesitated in the doorway. Captain Jaegerjaques swiveled around in his seat to lock icy blue eyes with rich golden brown, his annoyance rather obvious in those glacial pools.
Ichigo swallowed the lump in his throat and let a calm composure take the lead. He stepped forward into the dining room.
"Good evening." He tipped his head to the captain as he passed the man, hating how those blue eyes bore into him as he walked to his seat. "Good evening, children," he spoke a bit louder.
"Good evening, Ichigo," came the unison response. Ichigo began to sit in his chair when he leapt up with a shout – something just jabbed him in the ass! "Whaaahaha!" He quickly glanced down at the cushion. A pinecone. There was a bloody pinecone sitting in his chair. Light giggles filled the dining hall as the children fought to contain their mirth.
"What an enchanting little ritual," the captain stated, frowning at the display. He plucked his napkin from the table and proceeded to place it on his lap. "Something you learned at the Abbey?" It was hard to miss the mockery.
Ichigo frowned, about to throw a jab of his own, when he noticed the faces of the children, anxious to see what he'd say. But he simply smoothed the rear of his pants and attempted to take his seat again, this time brushing the pinecone away. "It's, uh," he muddled around for an answer," rheumatism." What? It was the first thing he could think of. He also couldn't help but notice the surprise on the children's faces when he'd given his answer; they were, no doubt, relieved he hadn't revealed their practical joke and risk losing their supper.
Ichigo watched as Captain Jaegerjaques began to eat and his children followed suit. The orangette smirked to himself. Now, it was his turn. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Captain, but haven't we forgotten to thank the Lord?" After all, he'd come from an orphanage attached to a convent. Surely the Sisters would teach him a simple grace.
With a mouthful of food, the captain stared at Ichigo for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he reluctantly placed his fork on his plate. Everyone round the table folded their hands and bowed their heads.
Giving one last glance around, Ichigo began to pray: "For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."
"Amen."
As soon as the word slipped past their lips the captain and his children continued where they left off, indulging in the warm steaming plates before them. The new tutor observed his charges from behind his fork of mashed potatoes. He had to wonder about their reactions to his answer earlier, remembering the worry that crossed their faces. Taking note of that and the wonderful welcome he'd received, Ichigo decided it was time for a little experiment.
"I'd like to thank each and every one of you for the precious gift you left in my pocket earlier today," the orangette stated before taking another bite. From the corner of his vision, Ichigo could see several of the children exchange uneasy looks.
"What gift?" Captain Jaegerjaques barked from the opposite end of the table, a frown gathered on his face.
Ichigo paused to carefully stare at the captain. "It's meant to be a secret, Captain," he said, mindful of the nervous fidgeting that surrounded him, "between me and the children."
"Then I suggest that you keep it and let us eat." The threatening growl rumbled like thunder.
But Ichigo had yet to finish. "Knowing how nervous I must have been, a stranger in a new household," mocha eyes flicked around to glance at each child, "knowing how important it was for me to feel accepted, it was so kind and thoughtful of you to make my first moments here so warm and happy and pleasant." He gave a tight smile with his words and returned to his plate. He could feel the icy glare burrowing into him from across the table. But it was worth it. Now, he waited.
Only a few moments later short and hiccupping sobs interrupted the dinner.
With an annoyed sigh, Jaegerjaques questioned his child. "What is the matter, Mashiro?"
The green-haired girl only sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. "Nothing."
But it wasn't nothing. Ichigo smiled to himself, a little victory, as the youngest members of the Jaegerjaques children broke down in tears along with their sister. Ichigo could see blue eyes widened in astonishment as the captain watched the dinner table slowly fall apart. But anger soon clouded those same blue eyes and Jaegerjaques forcefully placed his fork on the table.
"Ichigo," he snarled. The orangette looked up with an air of innocence. The brat. "Is it to be at every meal or merely at dinner time that you intend leading us all through this rare and wonderful new world of indigestion?" Ichigo took a few moments to ponder his answer and chew his food.
"Oh, they're all right, Captain. They're just happy."
And with those words the children only seemed to sob louder.
So what do you think? *hopeful*
In case you skipped the top, here's some important things to remember:
- reviews; constructive criticism
- based on The Sound of Music
- Part 1 of (?)
- HAPPY 615 GRIMMICHIDAY
If you have any questions, comments, fears, or potential phobias, feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer them.
You know where the review button is~
Cody Zik
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