scream benihime
They had been nonstop today. The screams.
He had heard Shinji's from a distance away. The screams of someone in great pain.
Hiyori's...he hadn't heard them. Rather, he felt them. The screams of one he had abandoned.
Everyone's screams. They never knew what hit them.
Kisuke put his head in his hands. Covered his mouth with his haori. And screamed.
His scream was far different from theirs. Multi-layered. There was sorrow, and guilt and horror, and apology and overwhelming fear and more guilt. Oh gods, his fault. All his fault.
Nobody was there to hear that scream. Nobody to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and say "Kisuke. It's not your fault."
Nobody to lie to him.
-o-o-o-
Kisuke shoots up in bed, sweat dripping from his forehead onto his chest, a wild look in his eyes.
The nightmares, he suspects, are worse for the Vizards. Much worse. But he knows only his own dreams, and he'd rather die than keep this up.
He wonders why none of the Vizards are psychologically damaged, like he is.
-o-o-o-
He pulls on his hat, his ever-comforting hat, and slips out of his room, as ready as he'll ever be to face the world.
"Good morning," he tells Ururu and Jinta. Ururu gives a slow, sad nod. Jinta gives Kisuke a wide grin.
They're so different, barely similar at all. They're both dead. And they are related. But that's all. Ururu is the one who remembers how they died. Remembers that their real parents became Hollows. Remembers that they couldn't do anything to stop it. Jinta chose to forget, back then. So he keeps a smiling face.
Why did Kisuke take them in? He can hardly remember. Reiatsu, he recalls vaguely. Strong reiatsu, and an unwillingness to go to Soul Society that he understood well enough. He gave them gigais. They work for their life here, as if it is any kind of life. Ururu regrets that she chose to remember, Jinta regrets that he chose to forget. Kisuke regrets everything, though he says nothing. Nothing. He regrets nothing, or nothingness, nothingness of death and Hollowfication and guilt
Nothing.
Kisuke screams beneath his hat, when he is out of earshot of anyone. He screams beneath his hat as if it will stop him from hearing the sound. As if the scream will ring loud enough to drown it out.
Those three words. Three words. How can they be enough to drive him to depressed, purposeless pieces?
All my fault.
Over and over again. Will they never cease to repeat?
-o-o-o-
Training the Kurosaki boy, he knows what's going to happen in advance. But Kurosaki is determined, so determined that he doesn't care what happens to him if he can save his friends.
The stupid careless mistake of the ages.
Soon, Kisuke knows, Kurosaki will feel the darkness creeping in on him. He will feel the burning as the mask inches over his face. He will feel the helplessness as the Hollow takes control.
But he doesn't say what will happen. That will bring questions. Questions that Kisuke can't answer.
He never has figured out that cure he promised.
And he never will.
-o-o-o-
Kisuke imagines killing himself.
Feeling Benihime slice through his chest. Sweet release.
What he believed, once, it's not true. After death, you go to the Soul Society. After you die a shinigami, you are truly dead. Consciousness, gone. Form, gone. Soul, gone, gone, gone.
But he can't die. Not while he has a debt to repay. Not while there are problems left unsolved.
Oh, how he wishes death were possible.
But he has to wait.
-o-o-o-
All he thinks is that he has to help. Cannot fail this time.
He went in with Yoruichi last time. They were no help. Aizen was too strong.
He mutters the sealing kido under his breath, and knows it will work as Aizen screams its impossibility.
Screams.
Screams...that Kisuke will remember later. Kill, kill, killer. He is a killer of the worst degree. Failure. You failed! Failure, failure, mocks his inner voice.
Shut up
Shut up
SHUT UP!
It is difficult for Kisuke to not say it aloud. All he wanted was to help. It was never his fault, never his job to get involved.
All your fault, it says again.
Kisuke gives up.
-o-o-o-
Hiyori is okay.
Kisuke breaths out a sigh of relief. Knowing she'll live through Hollowfication and injuries and being cut in half, she could live through anything.
And here comes another wave of guilt.
If she can survive all that, by far worse than Kisuke's dilemma, then why does he hate himself so much? When she can forgive, and live to see another day with a smile on her face?
All of them. How can they do it? Survive such terrible wounds, when he has such a hard time living with himself, uninjured and healthy?
Sometimes, he thinks sorrowfully, as Hiyori opens her eyes from the coma.
Sometimes.
Sometimes, paper cuts are worse than gunshot wounds.
But only sometimes.
Scream, Kisuke tells himself. It helps.
And it does, until the next wave of pain threatens. And it always, always threatens.
A/N: some darker stuff is on its way. Angst for the win. I apologize if 'Falling' takes its time... by the way, any missing punctuation marks are missing purposefully. In case you wondered. Review please.