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Refraction
A Bleach Fanfic
Chaos Theory AU
Chapter Ten: Death and the Damned
The visitors' chairs in the rooms at Karakura hospital were hardly the most comfortable places to sit. Ryūken had never given this much consideration before, as he had never been a visitor to anyone here. Often he entered these rooms as a surgeon, sometimes he did so as hospital director. But his role had always been to stand in these places, and tell things to people that they usually didn't know.
He'd never been one of the people who sat, uncertain exactly what they should make of the situation before them, uncomfortable in one of these chairs and also in ways he was less apt to name, ways sourced from emotions and connections he tried very hard to suppress.
As a surgeon or a hospital director, that suppression was absolute necessity. To become emotionally entangled in the life of a patient was to be halfway to failing them as a physician.
It was hard to decide, then, what to say about a situation where the emotional entanglement, messy and snag-riddled as it was, already existed.
Ryūken allowed himself the indulgence of a heavy sigh, now that there was no one around to hear. He'd come to the conclusion that he would not be able to clamp the iron talons of his logic down on everything else this time. It wasn't a recent revelation, exactly, but it had been made especially sharp to him in the moment before he released his arrow. The one he knew would hit. For a moment, he'd felt a paralyzing doubt—however perfect he knew his aim to be, intellectually, however confident he was in his abilities, there was always a possibility of error.
And error would kill his son.
Fortunately, Uryū's own surprise when his gritz had been broken kept him rather still, and Ryūken's hands were steady when he fired. Steady like they were when he made his incisions.
They weren't steady now.
He laced his fingers together under his chin, shifting slightly on the thinly-padded chair. It creaked softly underneath him. The sound wasn't near enough to wake Uryū, still unconscious in the bed, raised to Fowler's position. The monitors were steady; Ryūken processed the auditory information automatically, refusing to stand and check them visually yet again. There was no need. Save the new zeichen etched into the skin at the very center of his chest, Uryū was physically fine. All he suffered from now was exhaustion, along all dimensions: physical, mental, spiritual. The IV in his arm would be more help for that than any amount of useless hovering on Ryūken's part.
Damn his fingers and their trembling.
"Have I done the right thing?" He hated the sound of his own doubt, the way his voice bled where it cracked. He hated that he still spoke to someone dead, someone who wouldn't know the sight of him from Adam if ever they did meet again. But most of all, he hated that he didn't know the answer to his own question.
How many critical decisions about his son's future had been in his hands over the years? What were the odds that he'd done right, even overall? The rift between them was vast. He'd put it there trying to discourage Uryū from walking the path he now seemed determined to tread. Was his reversal now—his attempt to arm his only child with all he could give—the right one? Even if it were, had it come too late? There were so many things Uryū had never learned about being Quincy. Things Ryūken had thrown away, discarded to the greatest extent he could. But now that would make him a less effective teacher. He almost regretted turning from that life, for the difficulties it was presenting him now.
And the future—
He didn't want to think about the future. The present was problem enough. He'd probably have a matter of weeks or less to teach Uryū what would have taken most years to learn. There was much ground to make up.
Ryūken supposed he had to hope that the boy's stubbornness would finally have an outcome he wanted it to.
When Uryū came to, it was on the dark side of his divided world.
He blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the deep grey that surrounded him. It wasn't difficult to locate the only brightly-colored things in the space: Yorugen's robin's-egg eyes.
The spirit was almost Uryū's exact dimensions today, bent over him at the waist, head tilted. "You're different," he said, voice very small.
Grunting softly, Uryū pushed off the ground until he was sitting upright. Something in his chest twinged; he placed his fingers over the spot and prodded it. His mouth formed into a grimace. He remembered pain there, white-hot and searing like he was just about to be vaporized. He wondered if that was what it felt like to be shot in the saketsu or hakusui. Something he'd learned about a long time ago.
Back when he'd had Quincy powers.
"Different how?" he asked the shadow, hissing as he clambered to his feet. His legs were too weak underneath him; he almost stumbled, at least until Yorugen caught him with a hand to his shoulder, pushing carefully until he was upright again.
Wait, that wasn't right. Yorugen was a shadow. He couldn't physically touch people.
"I'm different, too," he whispered. Luminous eyes darted to the left. "It's because she's awake now."
"She's—" Uryū didn't feel the need to finish his own question, taking off for the dividing line of the world, weakness be damned.
Lucia.
He must have tripped a half-dozen times on his way, but it wasn't enough to send him to the ground, and that was all he bothered to concern himself with. Sure enough, as he drew closer to where the deep grey-black of Yorugen's domain sharply transitioned into the flat, featureless white of Lucia's, he could see her.
She was standing, facing his direction.
All at once, he was right in front of her, as though the intervening distance had simply ceased to exist. It was, quite naturally, only then that Uryū realized he had no idea what to say.
Lucia, however, didn't seem to need him to say anything at all. Her expression, stern and smooth by default, formed into a tiny smile, just a subtle curve to one side of her mouth and a softening of her silvery eyes.
"It's been a while, Uryū Ishida. I see you've met my brother."
"Well, I think that does it." Kisuke rolled his shoulders, flexing his right hand. That kidō stung his fingers. A small price to pay, for what it was going to do now that he'd figured out exactly how to use it most effectively.
The woman across from him blinked. "You think it will suffice? This Aizen has much greater reiatsu than Shūren did." Amari regarded him from one nearly-luminous blue eye.
"If you're really that worried, you could always help, you know."
Her zukin distorted; he could tell she was scowling beneath it. He tended to cause that reaction in people. He really should be more careful, particularly with her.
"You know it isn't that simple. I've given you what I can. You're supposed to be a genius—figure the rest out yourself."
Kisuke nearly laughed at the haughty sniff that seemed to underlie the words, but even he had some sense of self-preservation. The easiest way out of Hell was one he could only take if she willed it. And he could afford no delays. Already, he wondered if he might not be too late. He hadn't liked what he saw Yuzu Kurosaki do, those months ago. He knew Aizen would find out. Knew he'd seek to accelerate the fusion of the two hōgyoku with the young shingami's power.
He also had an inkling that the attempt wouldn't go half as well as Aizen hoped, but Kisuke couldn't afford to bet on it. Better to proceed as planned, and let serendipity surprise him, if she dared.
"I take it that I don't need to remind you of our terms." Amari's eye narrowed; while hardly humorous at the best of times, he recognized her as especially serious now.
Lifting a hand, he waved it dismissively. "I won't forget. When the time comes, I'll do the guiding, but the rest will be up to you and them."
She nodded. "That's acceptable. Now go—I'll open the gate." A pause, and then: "Do not fail, Kisuke Urahara. Too much depends on this."
He grinned and gave her a jaunty salute. Really. Some people just couldn't lighten up.
Some days, Kisuke even felt like one of them.
So, uh… hi. I'm alive. Have a chapter.
(Also, the last parts of Refraction will probably be compressed. There are a lot of fight scenes and stuff in the latter part of Catastrophe, and not as many extras I want to include, so there might not be something for every corresponding chapter. On the plus side, that means forward plot motion sooner, so there's that.)