Hello all. I'm sorry I haven't updated in like FOREVER, but life has been getting in the way.
This drabble was inspired by the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan, as well as a story called "Why Heroes Do What They Do," which is very good and I highly recommend it.
XX
She was the first thing he thought of when he heard the news.
Fear gripped his heart even as the Hell Butterfly announced that the earthquake and tsunami had only damaged the northern parts of Japan and suddenly he couldn't get to the human world fast enough.
She's waiting for him on her roof. Shoulders hunched, tired eyes lined with gray, every feature of her screams distress and sorrow. He takes her into his arms and buried his face in her dark hair, inhaling her unique scent; listens to her as she speaks numbly of her brother and sister-in-law who have yet to be found, of her friends visiting family in the affected areas, of her sister who is staying in another country who she cannot reach. She does not cry.
"I haven't seen Japan this bad since after the first atomic bomb." Surprisingly, it's his voice, quieter and more weary than normal, that breaks the silence that has entranced them for so long—days, hours, minutes?
She burrows deeper into his chest; waits; listens.
"The destruction at that time was more…blunt. Unnatural, obviously." He speaks slowly, letting the words hang in the air around them. "Blood…blood was everywhere. And the smoke was so thick even souls had trouble coughing." Pauses, lets the memories resurface. "The bodies were…horribly disfigured. Smashed in every way possible. Women and children alike, no one was spared from that thing." Vehement anger clogs his voice; at himself for being unable to stop it, at the people who made the choice to destroy a city, at the people who provoked them, at every divinity out there for allowing such a slaughter to happen. "There was nothing I could do, I know that, I know we're not supposed to involve ourselves in human affairs, we can't do it because it's bad and wrong," somewhere at the back of his mind, he realizes he's rambling, but the stress and shock and grief and horror and every other emotion he can't bother to harness into words is leaking into his voice, "but it's just not fair, all those people dying and we're supposed to save people aren't we and—and—and—" and suddenly he realizes he's crying. Tears roll down his cheeks as Hyourinmaru roars mournfully within his soul to his own mate.
And now his mask of impassiveness and authority is gone, shattered with his control, and the man inside of him is breaking down in pure sadness, "And now it's happening again, it's not fair, what have all those innocent people done to deserve such destruction; families are dying and we can't stop it, all we can do is try to help them pass on; they had lives to live, people to meet, a whole world to explore and now they're dead and all that's done—"
Shame blooms within him but he just needs a touch, something of her, something that reminds him that what he does is worth is. And so she holds him gently, crying with him and for a moment they're equals: not woman or man, shinigami or human, captain or representative, but just two humans sharing agony and pure sadness at such a loss of life. They hold each other for a long time even after their tears are dried and hearts are calm. Tomorrow they'll get up, don their uniforms and badges of authority, pretend they don't know each other as they wade into the thousands of lost and confused souls and try to explain that they're dead and need to pass on into a completely unknown realm. They'll give konso to toddlers and grandparents, mothers and fathers who cry for their relatives, try to compose themselves as the screams fade into silence. Tomorrow they'll return to work and their lives.
But for now, they are together.
XX
Please review. I'd like to know how I did with the angst-factor.
This story is dedicated to the thousands of lives lost in a fearsome natural disaster and the millions of people affected. May whatever divinity is out there bless you.
~RC