AN: i blame feilyn for however quickly this story gets updated. it seems like i skip sleep to do it, cuz i get distracted teasing her with previews... grins also, i did seriously debate about the last line or not... but then i threw it in... at any rate, enjoy! oh, and in case you haven't read the original the stage... GO DO IT NOW!
xXx
I think it surprised others frequently once they realized just how much I noticed. Almost everything, actually. It was no wonder to me personally that I worried and considered what would happen to the ever-diminishing Hitsugaya Toushirou, still genius in there somewhere.
After all, Ukitake Jyuushirou cared for the younger man deeply with an elder brotherly affection. There was no question that he worried for the captain's continuously deteriorating mental state. And I worried about Ukitake.
Ukitake counted as one of the few positive male influences in my life, many of them having been rather distinctly negative. A not so well known feature of the nobility is their tendency to cart off youthful members to other powerful teachers to enhance the child's education. I was lucky enough to have been shoved in the direction of an actual good soul.
There are some things impossible to say, especially for an individual such as me, where appearance and silence mean everything. I could never express how strange and refreshing it was to exist in an environment where my nobility meant nothing. I am nobility. I carry it. I hold it, I uphold it, I shall be remembered for it and my lineage shall continue it. It has always been everything I am. It is all that has been valuable about me. And it was my only reason for existing. Which is why it was a shattering thing, to be in an environment where such things were meaningless.
What then, was my meaning? If my nobility was no longer important, what was? Ukitake was the man who taught me how to live. If I considered anyone a father, he probably would come the closest, if only for the role he played in showing me kindness, intelligence, and an appreciation for a strength that was not necessarily physical. I have always wondered if my family would still have sent me to be trained by Ukitake-Taichou if they had known how it would affect and conflict what they had taught me.
Regardless, the bottom line was still that I cared and worried for Ukitake as I rarely did for anyone. As such, the tenth division's captain's deteriorating mental state would worry me as so few things did.
I also worried about the precarious nature of the relationship between him and his third seat. Both so close, yet so stubbornly far apart.
Most recently was though, I knew Ukitake was very worried about Hitsugaya's state of being. I hoped that that would not degenerate any further, what with everything else he was also concerned with. Rukia's minimal acceptance to vice-captain status by other division members, for example.
No need to go into detail about my reactions on that particular situation. Suffice to say that Rukia surprised me greatly, a rare feat indeed that does not bear repeating.
It was becoming fairly clear to me, however, that drastic steps needed to be taken. It was getting to the point that someone needed to point out what was best for him. And I couldn't seem to stop myself from watching her.
I was rapidly becoming far too wrapped up in her world. As if knowing everything about her could push away the insecurities of my own.
The way she always handled herself as a woman, yet always very much in charge and in control. Unafraid to challenge what was unquestionably a male-dominated hierarchy and succeed brilliantly. She presented a strange paradox I simply couldn't understand. A loose woman with no apparent morals or regard for conservative dress. Someone who disregarded rules and social obligations when it suited her. Yet someone who ran a division single-handedly.
Someone who broke anyone standing in the way of what she deemed fair or right. She made up her own rules, and more surprisingly, others willingly followed them.
Not only that, but she was careful to always watch out for others. Those that she cared for, she took under her wing. Even those she wasn't close to were perfectly comfortable reaching out to her and asking for assistance. Such was especially the case with the acting captain of the fifth division.
That young girl-for still, she was not yet a woman to me-was so overburdened with duties and emotional scars, and yet the tenth-division vice-captain reached out to save rather than turn from her. Something few had the courage to do, especially in the face of that kind of grief.
I understood that, if only because it was precisely the sort of thing I was unsuited for.
I watched the two spar together, something I'd not seen her do before, most likely because she simply didn't have the time. She was always so busy, in a constant state of motion.
The two smiled and bantered easily over their crossing swords. I couldn't quite hear what was said, as I was just out of hearing range, but it seemed to entertain them.
Watching them, it was easy to see that both were comfortable with the other's style of swordplay. The constant movement. A dance of swords.
It has never been a question in my mind, my own brilliance with the sword. I might have been called a genius, if my ascendancy to captain had not been so close to Hitsugaya-Taichou's. I understood the underlying nature of the sword and the forces that drove it's swirling blade. It came to me as easily as the swirling petals of Senbonzakura that obeyed my very thoughts. It was as a sword master that I watched her now.
Matsumoto Rangiku. Certainly no one to be trifled with. Especially with the sword. Still, I'd never had the opportunity to watch her spar before.
She was elegant.
But still weaker than I expected. And it seemed I wasn't the only one to think that, judging by the body language on the younger vice-captain. Was she distracted?
It seemed as if she'd been distracted often lately. Not quite all there. I didn't admit that it worried me.
She fell backwards, landing unflatteringly in a heap on the floor. It didn't take her long to retaliate in kind however.
I did not almost smile.
Slash, feint, slash. Flashes of bright sunlight glanced off my eyes. I resisted the urge to raise a hand to block it. Such a thing would immediately garner the attention of a fighter, something I certainly didn't want. I tried to ignore the awkwardness of the idea that I was following her around.
It wasn't working necessarily, but I ignored that too.
A riposte. Feint. She pushed back, going on the attack, pulling a manoeuvre high, which somehow causing Hinamori to slow enough to give her an advantage. It was right after that that she turned to stare right at me.
I wasn't quite sure if I shunpoed in time or not.
I didn't waste time reflecting on the matter.
It was becoming a problem. I was fairly sure that she was beginning to notice, if only because our eyes had actually been meeting lately.
But what was really getting my attention were the looks from other captains. As if they knew I was somewhere a noble of my standards should not, or at least would not normally be located.
I wasn't going through the Stage. I knew that. There was no possible way.
But at the same time, it was becoming very clear that something was happening.
xXx
Strange how fighting can stir memories.
Renji…..
One of the most enlightening moments in my existence was the initial fight against Renji's bankai. It was both a situation I never anticipated and I strength I never expected such a commoner to find.
Though he did not succeed in even injuring me, that was the first time I understood true strength.
The power to stand when there is no power left. The will to fight when there is no hope. The strength to endure rather than die.
He did it again saving my life.
Blocking a blow meant to kill me and taking on an enemy about to defeat me. Me, said to be the strongest of the house of Kuchiki in centuries. Such a boy when compared in years to me.
Such a man when compared in strength.
Strange how I was standing here at his grave again.
Is it easy to understand why his life still influences mine?
Is it hard to know that his death is just as difficult to accept?
He meant something to Rukia. A tie to her past, a close brother who could understand her roots. A protector she had never really wanted or needed, yet still cherished. And so he meant something to me.
Though I seem cold, the truth is, I am not. I just refuse to care for those without value.
Renji was one of those. Like she is.
Yet, he lived a life that continually denied that claim. He was always sacrificing for something. And if he wasn't, he was regretting his lack of will in forcing himself to.
How could I face someone stronger than me who was worthless? How could I stand before his grave and speak when he had given his life for something I didn't understand?
How could I speak to this boy when I was the one who was wrong?
I did what the nobility has always done best-pushed my emotions aside and named them meaningless.
It was my best, well-kept, classic exterior of typically cold blankness.
After all, I hide behind it so well.
