Melancholy Nox: Reminisce, Zangetsu

Warnings: Slash. Though, nothing potent here.

Rating: T – for the angst of a nine-year-old and fifteen year old Ichigo.

Author's Notes: This is just like, a back-story for Ichigo and a bit for Isshin. I decided that it would alternate. As in, the main story, then a character's back-story. Just because I can, and it will probably help in developing the story, I hope at least. But it won't be for every character, just the ones that are somewhat major characters. Sorry for any mistakes! This was rushed, because I realised that I have yet to update it. Ne, sorry! If you see any mistakes do tell. Especially if they are major.

-xv-

It was raining the last time he saw her. It was raining, and he hated it. The rain was a thing created merely to wash away all sins from somebody. To be able to purify the world, in such a way that burdens and regrets could momentarily be forgotten. Wash it all away with a constant downpour of water. Though, he couldn't feel the burden being lifted, it felt heavier than anything else. So why on Earth did the Gods decide that today would be the perfect moment to allow the skies to open and bring upon such heavy rain? Why, why, why did it have to rain today?

When he saw her last, she was carrying her umbrella in one hand, his hand intertwined with her other. The cement was slippery, the path, dark. Only the moon and very few street lights there to guide them and that seemed to be impotent. It was never advised for a man or woman to walk along the streets of Vicius at such late hours. Especially when the sky was grey and threatening to spill rain, as it was now. There were always different possibilities as to what could happen on these dreary paths. One: you could be mugged. Two: you could be kidnapped if you looked completely lost, or if you looked like your pockets were going to explode from the money placed within. Three: you could be raped, regardless of whether or not you were male or female. 'Bums' on the street never cared for what they got. Though, they weren't very fond of inbreeding with other 'bums' in fear of contracting yet another sexually transmitted disease. They'd much prefer it if they give their own ailments to relatively cleaner people, thanks. Four: you could easily get run over due to the lack of street lamps guiding cars. Five: you could easily arrive to your desired location unharmed. Though, this was never particularly a favoured possibility within Vicius. In fact, it was highly disliked.

The thing was, though, he never knew of such advice. If he had, he wouldn't have begged his mother for those little treats that he was so fond of. He would want that ongoing smile still before him more than anything else.

But those stupid Gods decided oh-so conveniently that while walking through the ongoing paths, a manic 'bum' would appear in front of them. Ichigo could remember the man's face clearly. Eyes wide, though, not in a child-like manner, it showed more blood lust than anything else, hair strew in such a fashion that it looked like a bird's nest, body like a caveman, of sorts, and the glinting teeth. His eyes connected with the man's and it was in that moment did he realize that Vicius was not a name to think so lowly of. His body became a mere statue, refusing to move. And he hated the reaction; he hated it, more than the rain.

Eyes widened when the man charged towards them. The paper bag fell to the floor ungracefully, spilling its contents out on the streets in a heap. The little gum balls were falling into the gutter, floating away like the water was. His small hands urged to grab them and his mother's hand to run away. He tried to, tried, and tried. The only thing that he was able to do was yelp in pain when he felt sharp nails digging into his flesh.

His statue-like form turned into that of the foetal position when his mother pushed him to the floor to cover him with her own body, using herself as his shield. The small reassurances leaving her lips that everything was going to be all right and that after this was over, they would get his candy again and go home. He only nodded in child-like naivety, knowing that if his mother said it, then she was right. She was always right, so what made her wrong now?

These reassurances were left to linger in the air, never fulfilled.

When Ichigo opened his eyes once again, blinking slowly to clear the blurriness of temporary sleep, he regretted ever doing so. He saw nothing but black. An abyss of black nothingness that frightened him. The most rational thing to do was to scream. He emitted a shrill sound, echoing through the streets. And he continued screaming until his throat felt raw. Even then, though, he continued to scream.

He still couldn't move, he could feel a limp body on top of him, weighing him down from running. In such a panicky state, he could not think, everything jumbled up as though his mind were one of those one thousand piece puzzles left unsolved. He screamed once again, not remembering the events that passed before either passing out, or falling asleep. His continuous pleas for help stopped when his hands moved to the face of the body on top of him. "Okaa-san, daijoubu?" There was no answer. There was no movement from his mother, not even the movement of lungs being filled with the necessary resource of air. He tried again though, because, in this abyss of blindness, he needed something to hold onto, he needed his mother. "Okaa-san? Okaa-san? Daijoubu?" His voice grew with each word, hands moved frantically to shake his mother awake. But there was no reply; there was not even an uncharacteristic grunt. His attempts to wake up his mother never stopped though, not even when his voice started to become course. Not even when he started to taste his own blood.

An hour later, he could feel his body being picked up from the floor. The familiar scent of his father stopped him from punching the person. His voice was quiet, "Otou-san, what's happening?" Like his mother, only silence greeted him.

Though, rather hesitatingly, and minutes after, he was answered with a sorrow reply that made him worried. "Ichigo, your mother she's gone to…heaven."

He felt water fall to his cheeks and didn't know whether or not it was from his father, or him.

-xv-

"Ichigo-kun, just open your eyes."

Ichigo wanted to punch the doctor then and there because his eyes were open, and he was trying to look at whatever they wanted him to look at. He was doing it so why were they telling him and always repeating for him to do so? His voice was blunt and showed annoyance, "My eyes are open." The image was distorted and dark, an improvement from when he first lost his sight. One month ago, since that night. That night that could be blamed solely on him.

"Then what do you see?"

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, trying to find an answer that the doctor wanted to hear. "I can't see it completely, but I see an angry face."

"An angry face?"

"Yes, a very angry face. It looks angry at me." Ichigo nodded and moved his head to 'look' at the doctor. Though, he was not really looking at the doctor, more listening to where the doctor was than anything else. His father must be close to him, though not too close to him. Just enough so Ichigo could feel his presence.

Isshin sighed, looking at Ichigo. His son's eyes were somewhat glassy. Though, if you were to look at him, it would seem as though he wasn't blind at all. Not that he was blind, just temporarily. But, his son was still blind. A fact that Isshin could never forgive himself for. He could have protected his late wife and his son. He could have. But he did not. He could remember when he was looking for them both. It was late already, nearly eleven. The fact that it was raining heavily also worried him further. Yuzu and Karin were already sleeping soundly. By twelve, he set out to search for them. They couldn't be too far. There was always the possibility that Ichigo wanted more than the original amount that he wanted, or that they were walking slowly due to the rain. Instead, he was greeted with a shrieking Ichigo and a very disfigured wife. He wanted to look away, though, could not. The sight of his wife lying unmoving on top of his screaming son was a nightmare. Unfortunately, it was all true. His usual beautiful wife lay with both arms broken, eyes empty, and blood spilling from her forehead onto Ichigo. He needed to get away. He needed to just close his eyes and mentally slap himself to wake up from such a horrid nightmare. But he did not, because he knew that this was the harsh reality that the Gods decided would best suite him and his family. With his wife was dead, his son most likely traumatized, he called a police and ambulance knowing full well that it would take an hour or so for them to even want to get up and travel to their location. All was lost.

He brought Ichigo to his arms and carried him away from the tragedy. He needed to get as far as possible.

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips before he laughed and bringing his son into a semi-headlock in a teasing manner that would surely aggravate his son. "It's not an angry face Ichi, it's a smiling sun! Why would you think that it's an angry face?"

Instead of a remark of annoyance, he was greeted with a reply devoid of any emotion except depression. Which, in all reality was not 'right'. Children of nine were not meant to be depressed. It was illogical for a nine-year-old child to have so many burdens put upon their shoulders.

"Because Okaa-san would be angry at me."

As soon as he heard those words, Isshin regretted ever asking. He released his son from the loose headlock and examined him, ignoring the doctor for the time being. "Ichigo, you do know that your mother protected you because she wanted to."

Ichigo wanted to believe those words, but could never bring himself to. He only nodded and turned to face where he presumed the doctor was. "I'll be able to see again, right?"

In all honesty, he didn't care on whether or not he could see again or not. If this were a form of atonement that had been put upon him, then he'd live with it. He'd live with it and atone for the death of his mother. Regardless of what his father said, it was his fault. It was because he was so immature that she died.

He needed to grow up.

-xv-

When the rain falls, his eyes feel glassy. It is when the rain falls does he remember that event of years ago. It is because of that event. It is the blood, screams, and those eyes that frighten him from exiting Babylon's somewhat safe walls. On rainy days such as now, he's never in a good mood. Never in a mood to put up with his father who is rarely ever supervising Babylon, (the sanctuary that he supposedly created in honour of his mother), always at Metric to visit Ishida's father. He hates it when his father goes there, because his father has moved on, and he has yet too. Call it jealousy, if you want. He still lives in the regret of his nine year old self. It is on days like these does he uncharacteristically think to himself. Thinking, always, that the reason why Yuzu was so mother-like was because of him. If his mother were alive, Yuzu would not be serving them breakfast, lunch and dinner. Then, he'd think that the sorrow within Karin's eyes was because of him. It was his entire fault. So why was his father always saying that he was living in the past? Why was it that he would say that his mother never needed to forgive him because it was not his fault? It was blatantly his fault. If he did not drag his mother out of the safety of their home, she would be alive to this very day, asking him if he wanted to go to the park, or something.

Regardless, during these days, Ichigo is never in a good mood. Even though he regained his eyesight months after his mother's death, the time of blindness that he went through never felt like it was enough to compensate.

His thinking paused momentarily when he heard a very familiar voice.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"What do you want, Ishida?"

"You're never good to stay with on these days, you know that, right?"

"Go away and let me sulk in my own self pity."

Ishida ignored him, only sitting down and making himself comfortable next to Ichigo. They stayed in a comfortable silence before Ichigo moved his head to lean against Ishida's shoulder. "Thanks for being here even though I must be a pain." Usually, he would never show such affections. Never, really. But on days like these where he would watch the rain droplets fall, washing everything clean, he felt too weak and drawn to do anything else but submit to any comfort he could gain.

"It's all right."

When his mother died, he was nine and hated the rain. He's now fifteen, and he still hates the rain.

-xv-

Author's Note: Hope that you enjoyed! I'll try and update this at least once a week, though that is subject to change due to the fact that I am lazy and have heaps of homework. And sorry for the superemo!Ichigo. The ooc-ness of this chapter must kill! Sorry, again! Next chapter shall have more GrimmIchi just to make up for this. And, probably the introduction of Byakuya. Reviews are always appreciated. Sorry if I didn't get to reply to some reviews though! I forgot which ones I did, and which ones I didn't. I'm stupid like that. But thank you if I wasn't able to reply! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Thank you for reading! And hope that you enjoyed! Ja ja ja!