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The prosecution attorney allows her speech to resonate through the room before taking her seat next to her client. The young woman hides her satisfaction behind an expressionless face. She watches the defense attorney stand before the audience and notices his confident, cool composure. She thinks how wrong he is as he begins to state his case.
She has heard of this man's name before: Kuchiki Byakuya—well known for his success rate in court trials. But even the merit his name bears does not alarm her because she knows his client is guilty.
Someone has to be.
So she serenely listens to his speech.
"Counselor Soi Fon's speech was certainly moving. And I can not deny that Hinamor-sani has faced some terrible ordeals that no girl should have to experience—let alone be aware of—at such a young age. But ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to forget about what Counselor Soi Fon has said for a moment, and look at my client.
"As of today, Hitsugaya Toushiro is nineteen years of age. Had he not been charged by these accusations, Hitsugaya-san would be in college, studiously working for a degree. Given a few more years, he will be able to find a career, find someone he loves, and care for a family of his own.
"But Hitsugaya-san's life has, instead, been interrupted. And depending on your decisions as jurors, Hitsugaya Toushiro may either continue with life pursuing happiness—as our founding fathers believed all humans have the right to own—or simply…stop."
Kuchiki Byakuya pauses to meet eyes with each pair of eyes. When he reaches the left side of the room, he stares seconds longer at the young woman. His indigo eyes continue to hold his glance as he speaks.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you hear both the prosecutions and the defenses cases today, I will not ask you to "take sides". But I urge you to keep in mind that you have a young life in your hands. Please, judge Hitsugaya Toushiro not by who you pity.
"Judge Hitsugaya Toushiro by the truth."
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We became the center of attention—even I was adored for a while—among the orphans. They were more excited about our adoption than they were about the fake Santa that appeared at our door the Christmas before.
The only orphans who weren't excited about our adoption were us.
You—who always openly feared change at the time—were at least slightly appeased by the fact that you would not be facing the frightening concept of an unpredictable future alone. But I, I was not.
I had a bad feeling about Aizen Sousuke from the start.
It was more than just that stubborn distrust I always developed for every stranger I met—that's what you always scolded me for—there was an air about him that seemed deceiving. It was as if his smile—which seemed only benevolent and gentle—was there to hide a darker face.
I kept my doubts to myself. After all, what could worrying you do? We were orphans; we had no control over our lives. We could not choose whether or not to be kept by our biological parents and therefore we could not choose who to be adopted by.
We were given thirty minutes to pack our belongings—which you and I didn't have much of anyway—and say goodbye; thirty minutes to wrap up the eight years of childhood memories I'd accumulated in the orphanage. Granny informed us that our new home would only be a thirty-minute drive from the orphanage, that you and I could visit them any time—but that was not the same.
I ended up packing faster than you, despite the fact that I was trying to delay our departure as much as possible. You seemed to want to take as many things as possible with you: the donated toys you received as presents, the petty gifts the orphans gave to us as last-minute goodbye presents… and even down to the potato-sack kimono Granny made for you. It made sense to me; I guessed that you wanted to take as much as home with you as possible.
As an orphan, I had always imagined my adoption would be grand—something of a finale. I didn't know myself what I was expecting, but what actually happened didn't fit my visions. One moment, everyone was waving and wishing us good luck as we got into the man's car and took one last look at the little old-fashioned building we grew up in…
And then they were gone.
At that time, I usually despised looking back since it showed dependency on the past. But even when I wanted to look behind, I wasn't given the chance. By the time I had snapped out of my daze, the orphanage, along with Granny and all the other kids, were out of sight. No matter how much I squinted my eyes, I couldn't even make out the tiniest speck of our past.
Aizen tried to converse with us while driving. I ignored him—I knew that he was trying to gain our trust and I wasn't going to fall for it—and instead passed time by observing the bits and pieces of scenery that blurred by the window. You, on the other hand, were always the proper-mannered one out of the two of us; so you replied to each of his questions.
"It really is hot today. We should go stop by for some ice-cream sometime, would you two like that?"
That was the first thing he asked us. And while I stared at the waves of heat rolling over the horizon, you shyly nodded.
"Even though the weather isn't that comfortable, I still like summer—it's my favorite season. Do you have a favorite season, Momo-chan?"
I remember how my dislike for him was magnified at that point for calling you Momo. I also remember thinking how stupid he was for asking such a lame question.
"Spr-spring." You softly answered. I wished you hadn't said that; I wanted you to lie in order to keep him distant.
"Ah…you must like flowers then."
Flowers were one of your favorite things in the world—you had a lot of favorite things—and you nodded; this time, to my irritation, more relaxed.
"I like cherry blossoms." You added softly. Pink was another one of your favorites.
You two went on for a while. You told him about all your favorite things: rabbits, cake, rainbows, peaches…everything you told me when we first met. The more you talked, the more I sulked by the window. I stared at my scrawny reflection in the window until I noticed Aizen's eyes on me.
"What about you, Hitsugaya-kun? Do you have anything you like?"
I wanted to say "no" and tell him everything I hated—which included him. But that would be telling him the truth. So I stayed silent.
"Shiro-kun likes winter. And candy." You spoke for me.
"That's good. There's a candy shop nearby our house too; we can go grab some when we get back." You smiled at me; kind and sinister, patient yet eager, gentle yet stony…
It was a smile that still haunts me right now.
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Our home—or his home since I never could bring myself to call it that—was a moderate, two-story house. It wasn't any larger than the orphanage, but because there weren't a dozen other annoying kids maniacally running around, it felt much bigger. Everything was newer and the air smelt emptier.
The both of us didn't know what to do with ourselves when Aizen turned on the lights. I was tempted to watch television for the first time but resisted in fear of looking like I felt at home—that was the last thing I wanted to look like in front of him.
We stood in silence. Then Aizen brought up the: "we must be tired so he would show us our rooms and we could go to sleep" phrase.
You found your room yourself on first try, as if you were familiar to the building—something that surprised not only me but you as well. Your room was pink and filled with stuffed animals. On your nightstand was a cherry blossom bonsai tree.
It was as if he knew you before today.
I should've taken it as a warning sign. I'm not sure how or if it would've changed the way everything turned out. But I never suspected anything wrong at that time. I left you to familiarize yourself—I even failed to see the strange look of déjà-vu on your face.
When Aizen showed me to my room, I already hated it before I saw it. It was downstairs—not near yours. It was no where near as kid-friendly as yours, and now that I think about it, it seemed less broken in. Your room looked as if it belonged to someone before, whereas mine looked new.
To tell you the truth, I didn't really sleep in my new room that night: I slept on the rooftop—specifically the place nearest to your bedroom window. I couldn't bring myself to think that you were safe. You were the one who I once had to reassure that monsters didn't come out to get you in the dark, but that night—and for the rest of the nights—I was the one who needed reassuring.
There were so many warning signs, so many chances to realize what was going to happen to us. Being the twelve-year-old I was, I was naïve and could only tell that something was wrong.
I was right, but I didn't know the magnitude of how accurate I would eventually become.
A/N: I am actually very clueless when it comes to court trials; especially since I've never done anything bad enough to go to court. All text about the court proceedings are influenced by Jodi Picoult books and what I've seen on Law and Order... so I think they deserve some credit.
Of course, Tite Kubo deserves credit for creating his wonderful manga and Hitsugaya Toushiro, both of which I love very much. Sorry if I forgot about the disclaimer.
As always...review!