A/N: Music inspiration for Chapter 3 came from Here We Are by Breaking Benjamin (the dream), So Cold by Breaking Benjamin and On the Arrow by AFI.
Chapter 3: Mother Dearest
Shunsui leaned against a wall, facing the hall that had manifested before him. He was in the foyer of his family's manor; a room overflowing with history and color (opposing objects, in Shunsui's opinion). Tapestries lined the walls, their vibrant threads depicting local and foreign landscapes from each of the four seasons. Flowers spilled, voluptuous, from round vases set on the small tables that lined the hall. The ceiling held less of the color of the decorations, for it was a century-old mural depicting the Kyouraku family lineage.
Despite the familiarity of the room, something was off and it took Shunsui a minute to put his finger on it. The abundance of servants that usually bustled about the hall were strangely absent. So, too, were the smattering of lesser noblemen who often loitered in other's manors. In fact, Shunsui's only companions were his parents, who sat in two chairs in front of him. Their backs were to him, and their attention was focused on the empty hall.
Bored with this never-changing scene, Shunsui stared up at the ceiling. His vision seemed increased somehow, because he saw that some of the paint had begun to chip. As he studied the imperfect section, pieces began to fall. Only a few, inconsequential enough that his parents didn't notice. Shunsui stood up and walked the few paces to where the chips of pigment lay. He picked one up carefully, trying not to break it. It was large, almost as big as his palm. One side was white, but upon turning it over; Shunsui found a face staring back at him. It didn't seem odd to him at all, that Juushiro's face had been among those of his ancestors.
Shunsui. Put that down, his father commanded from his seat.
It's only a chip of paint... Shunsui argued, slipping it secretively into the inside pocket of his shirt.
Throw it out, his father ordered, The next chance you get.
Shunsui nodded offhandedly, not intending to actually do as his father said.
Come sit down, his mother said, Wait for your brother with us.
Shunsui obeyed reluctantly, resuming his former position on the floor. They waited for some time, Shunsui's eyes constantly darting about the ever-empty hall. Slowly, almost too gradually for him to notice, the flowers began to lose their color. The tapestries dulled and the jewels on his mother's dress dimmed. After what seemed like hours, the hall was colored in shades of gray and black, a mere imitation or sketch of the vibrant reality. Shunsui looked around, desperate for color. It flashed sometimes, at the edges of his vision, but when he turned to look everything was still greyscale.
Without warning, the double doors opened. A brilliant shaft of light burned Shunsui's eyes, and he had to shut them until the door closed. Yet when he chanced opening them, Shunsui found himself hovering just below a very fluffy cloud high above the manor's roofs. Panic gripped him as he realized how dangerous this was. Heights had never bothered him, but this was higher than he'd ever been. Not even birds came this high. It wasn't natural. And though Shunsui wasn't sure who he was anymore, he knew with iron certainty that he was not, in fact, a bird.
Gingerly, Shunsui uncrossed his legs. He didn't plummet toward the ground, as he expected. Experimentally, he took a step. Then another. And soon, he was sprinting across the blue spring sky. He laughed with the joy of being able to speed along as fast as he wanted, to cover all the distance he could think of, without tiring or even losing his breath.
After a moment, he began to notice flashes of gray on the edges of his peripheral vision. Panic rose as Shunsui recognized the greyscale coloring that had invaded his home. He felt the sudden, overwhelming need to feel solid ground beneath his feet again.
And just like that, he was falling. Tumbling through the fresh air with absolutely nothing to stop his fall. His clothes and hair flapped in the wind the drop created. The chip of paint he'd salvaged, the one with Juushiro's face on it, flew away from him; floating serenely towards the sky. He would have grabbed for it, but the ground was close now; Shunsui braced himself for the impact...
He woke suddenly. Unable to open his eyes, it took Shunsui several minutes to be sure that he was not, in fact, plummeting to his doom. The conclusion was a comforting one.
He wondered vaguely what time it was. Juushiro's cool fingers were entwined with Shunsui's own, so he assumed it was day; though one never knew with Juushiro. He could also hear the faint scratching of a pen. Of course he was doing schoolwork. Though, when pressed, Shunsui couldn't think of much else he could be doing.
Left with nothing to do, Shunsui pondered those strange dreams he'd been having since he'd been in the infirmary. Was it something in the water? Or, more correctly, the IV fluid? Did he have a fever? Was his subconscious just having fun with him?
The sound of the door opening interrupted his musings. Shunsui listened hard and discerned a very familiar tread. His mother had arrived.
Juushiro was concentrating on his homework when an unfamiliar reiatsu approached. It had the duality of satin and daggers, with a breath of fresh spring air confusing it all. As the person approached, Juushiro relinquished Shunsui's hand and waited. In a matter of seconds, the door swung open and the visitor arrived.
Juushiro's first impression of Shunsui's mother was excess. Her kimono was of the finest quality silk; precious metals and jewels sparkled from her ears, fingers, wrists, neck and even ankles. His next impression was color. The kimono was a dark shade of orange, one he couldn't quite name, with a pattern of flower petals. They fell and swooped around her frame in an array of every shade you could imagine. Juushiro noticed tiny jewels winking from folds in the abundant fabric. Her jewelry glittered with gemstones; diamonds, tiger's and cat's eye, amethyst, mother of pearl, opal, garnet, peridot, pearl, onyx and turquoise were set in chains of silver, copper and gold.
Once he got over the overwhelming aspects of her attire, Juushiro realized that Lady Kyouraku was actually quite nice-looking. She had a tall, willowy figure that was very unlike her son's, and her dark hair was piled in loops about her head. More jewels glittered in the pins holding it together. The satiny locks framed a face as tan as her son's, with wide blue eyes. A small, pert nose was set above curved lips accented by rogue. Her whole person commanded attention and once received; it demanded respect.
Juushiro stood as she approached him, not allowing himself to waver as her icy gaze pierced his being. The noblewoman's eyes were razor-sharp as she studied his face.
"Who are you?" Lady Kyouraku asked. Her voice was soft, with an almost raspy quality. It was not the dulcet tones that would have matched her appearance.
Juushiro bowed and introduced himself. "Ukitake Juushiro."
"Why are you here?" she asked coldly.
"The healers asked me to stay with him," Juushiro explained politely, "In case his condition changes."
"I see," Lady Kyouraku replied stiffly. She stepped closer, turning to face the bed. Minutes passed in silence as she scrutinized her son's immobile figure. "At least he's not his brother," she remarked presently, "If he dies, we'll still have an heir."
The callous indifference in that statement stunned Juushiro into momentary speechlessness. How could that be the biggest concern on her mind? Did she not care at all for her son's wellbeing, or even his life? The fact that he even had to ask himself those questions irked Juushiro beyond measure. Perhaps that was what drove him to say, "And you will have lost a son."
It was impolite, disrespectful, perhaps even arrogant of him to say it; but for once, Juushiro didn't care. He met Lady Kyouraku's gaze steadily as she turned to look at him, indignation sparking in those frosty cerulean orbs.
"I have already lost him," she said bitterly, "I lost him when he turned his back on our family and came here. I lost him when he refused to follow our way of life. I have already lost my son, Ukitake Juushiro; so do not let your judgment of me be so quick and harsh."
Taken aback, Juushiro dropped his eyes. His anger was quickly replaced by shame. No words of apology or argument came to his lips; he kept them closed.
"Perhaps I should have raised him differently," Lady Kyouraku mused, gazing down at Shunsui again as though Juushiro was not there, "But how else would I have done it...?" Silence reigned again before she said, "No matter. There is no changing the past." She stepped away from the bed and looked up at Juushiro; her gaze lancing across the two inch difference in their heights. "I trust you'll contact me if he wakes."
"Of course," Juushiro assured her quietly.
In a swirl of silk and color, Lady Kyouraku left the room, carelessly letting the door slam behind her. Once she was gone, Juushiro sat down heavily. Sighing, he rested his forehead against his palms and shut his eyes. He didn't want to think anymore; he was tired of the uncertainty that had plagued his life these last few days.
He'd always accepted Shunsui's statements of his family's indifference as fact, never stopping to question their motives or feelings. While it was true that Shunsui's mother had shown astounding callousness, she had also shown regret. Didn't that say that she wasn't as bad as Shunsui had always told him? Juushiro sighed again. He didn't know what to think. When it came to Shunsui's family, he'd allowed himself to see their situation and role as black and white, not the shades of gray he knew the world to be. It must have been because he loved Shunsui, that he was so biased about it. Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty that he hadn't considered all the angles of the situation.
Night fell as these thoughts twirled maddeningly in Juushiro's head. Finally, abandoning his homework as a bad job, the worn student curled up next to Shunsui on the hospital bed. It was rather cramped, but Juushiro was convinced that this was a small price to pay for warmth. Slowly, he fell asleep to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and Shunsui's soft breathing.
To say that Shunsui was surprised at his mother's admission- that she should have raised him differently- was an understatement. The very fact that she regretted anything about his childhood was something he'd never considered.
That was a small concern, though, compared to his frustration. If he had never been injured in the first place, Juushiro wouldn't have ever met his mother. If only he could speak; Shunsui knew he would have been able to convince Unohana-sempai not to contact his family. Somehow, all his frustration now revolved around Juushiro never meeting his mother.
Maybe that was unfair of him. It wasn't like Juushiro hadn't stood up for himself, for Shunsui. It wasn't like he couldn't take care of himself. And some of Shunsui's frustration was built up from not being able to do anything. He ached to touch Juushiro again; to tell him it would all be alright. Even if that was a lie.
Shunsui would have smiled, as he felt Juushiro climb into the the hospital bed next to him. He listened to the smaller student sleep for awhile, not allowing himself to fall asleep. Sleep brought dreams, and Shunsui was very tired of those. They caused him to think more than he already did.
But slowly, against his will, he drifted into the blackness of slumber.