Secret Worlds: Two Deaths

Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell.

She found him after the slow, long-winded, dragging, painful ceremony, nearly an hour after beginning her search. He'd disappeared just as soon as everyone had offered their condolences – she with her parents, standing a polite distance, taking his hand in gentle fingers without so much as a squeeze to convey her sympathies before being swept along the line – and she hadn't seen him since. She'd searched through the house and grounds, poking into every room, beneath every piece of furniture, combing the grounds meticulously until she was sure she'd trampled over every last inch of the estate, and she still hadn't found him.

It wasn't until, by some stroke of luck, she'd nearly been clocked in the head with a clay tile that she had realized where he was hiding. It had taken her a few moments to find a place where the roof hung low enough for her to reach, and even then the feat ended with an undignified scrabble to keep her hold, but once she had made it up it took all of half a second to locate Kisuke: his what haori and hakama stood out from the grey roof tiles like a bright light in the dark. He'd grown the last few years, finally overtaking her in height, but he was skinny as a bamboo shoot, and awkward, but somehow he'd managed to fold his long frame up into the tiniest space imaginable, his knees curled up against his chest, arms wrapped firmly around them, head bowed against his arms, blonde hair obscuring what little bit of his face was visible.

Yoruichi sat down beside him, curling up close against his shoulder but keeping her arms to herself. He didn't need coddling, and she wouldn't have offered it anyway. He needed someone to lean on.

"Have you been up here the whole time?" she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He nodded into his arms, then pulled his head up to look at her, smiling ruefully. "Why do you look so sad, Yoru?" he asked. "Your parents didn't die."

Her parents had been dead for a while by then, but the comment still stung.

"Maybe I'll shave my head," he continued, reaching up to twirl a strand of golden hair between his fingers. "It's getting too long anyways."

She'd cut her hair the night her parents had died – with a tanto, in a fit of emotional rage directed at the rest of her nonexistent family but with herself as the only victim.

"Don't," she replied, combing her fingers through his long, messy locks. "Leave it long. It suits you."

"My mom kept telling me to cut it," he countered, and his voice was so even and congenial that Yoruichi felt her own breath hitching at the word 'mom'.

He heard her gasp, or felt it in the way her shoulder moved against his, and he unfolded with another one of those silly, lackadaisical smiles, and she wanted to punch him.

He could tell, apparently, because his brows drew down, but the smile didn't dissipate. "What's wrong?" he asked, nudging her playfully with his shoulder. "Come on."

"What's wrong?" she demanded in a hard voice. "What's wrong?! Kisuke, your parents just died!" He did frown then, and he turned away from her, hunching in on himself again. "You're acting like nothing's wrong!" she went on. "You're acting like you didn't just lose your entire family in less than–"

"I know," he broke in quietly, staring in the opposite direction. "What am I supposed to do? Cry? What good would that do? Everyone dies. I knew it would happen."

"It wasn't supposed to happen so soon," she said, her voice low, reaching out to pull him back against her. "To either of us."

Something coursed through him - it felt like a shiver – then both his arms came up to clutch at the one she had wrapped around his shoulders.

"It's not fair," he said, suddenly childish. "It's not fair. How could they die? They were all I had."
She smiled into his hair, and said, "You've got me," and he broke. He turned in her arms, wrapping himself around her, pressing his face into the soft skin of her neck. He made no noise or movement, but she could feel the hot tears running under her collar.

Half an hour later when they climbed down from the roof, Kisuke's eyes were dry. With a sad, somber smile plastered across his face, he returned to the gathering to mingle with the other mourners, taking their continued condolences with gentle humility and gracious thanks. Yoruichi stayed just behind him the entire time.

That would be the first, last, and only time she ever saw him cry.

AN: I'm not dead, I swear! This one's a little more angsty than the last 3, but hey, it takes all kinds of events to shape people. I hope this isn't too OOC... but then again, that IS kinda the point of this chapter. More humor coming up next!