Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Chosen Soul
Even months into the aftermath, he was still guilty. He wasn't being eaten alive by it, but the sin was still there. Each time he looked in the mirror in the morning, it was there, manifesting itself as a foreign black blur in the corner of the room. Mistakes had been made and, although he had been forgiven, the mark was unrelenting. It was a constant reminder that loomed over his shoulder, almost whispering wicked words into his ear, almost as if it were trying to drive him mad.
Seeing his friends, those whom he cherished most, seemed to dull the agonizing discomfort. The smiles on their faces as they greeted him was almost enough to melt his heart like a candle over a hot flame. For the first time in years, they were together as they had been at the academy. Much had changed since those days. The road had forked long ago, sending them off on different paths and ideals as they sought to fulfill that which was important to each of them.
But being together like this again, visiting the home where they had grown up together, where they had gone to school together, made everything seem brighter to him.
Momo and Renji had requested that they return to the academy to watch the students practice their kido, but Izuru had other ideas. As they had gone on their way, he'd shuffled his way through a mess of thick brush, stepping over leaves and broken twigs as he sought out the memorial stones that he hadn't seen in so long. His hands slid gently across the once smooth stone, somewhat worn from years of harsh weather. The sheen that had been present before had vanished, leaving them looking like nothing more than ordinary stone.
He smiled, kneeling before the markers, hands together in prayer. It was a curious thing, not knowing how things could have been. Were they alive to this day, would they be proud of him?
So many times had he thought of visiting this place, but the time had never seemed right. He had been fooled by sneaky words and colorful phrases, promises of peace and more. Had he come any sooner, Izuru was sure that his parents would have thought terribly of him. But now, the timing was perfect. Forgiveness had been presented to him, despite the things he'd done. He bowed his head, a silent prayer making its way to the heavens.
There was no longer anything to be ashamed of. He had righted his wrongs, set himself back upon the straight and narrow path. Surely, he had made something of himself; something that his parents would smile upon for years to come.