Well, here it is. The end. I wasn't sure how to write this, actually. It was really hard to write. I just kind of thought that I had to make it good, as a tribute to my characters.
My birthday is tomorrow. Think of this as my party favor.
--
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
My tale was heard and yet it was not told,
My fruit is fallen, yet my leaves are green,
My youth is spent and yet I am not old,
I saw the world and yet I was not seen;
My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
And now I live and now my life is done.
I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I looked for life and found it was a shade,
I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I was but made;
My glass is full, and now my glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
-Chidiock Tichborne
-Elegy
It was cold out, and a thick blanket of snow covered the ground, already dirtied by footprints and the exhaust from cars. Kuro and Ichigo walked together down the sidewalk, backpacks over their shoulders, heading towards school.
It was their first day back, two days after they had returned from the Soul Society. All but the worst of Ichigo's wounds were healed, but Kuro refused to be healed. The wounds on her arms were particularly bad; every once in a while they still began bleeding.
Rukia was forbidden from returning to the real world if she wasn't going to take in Kuro, which meant she would probably be back within a day or so. She always got out somehow.
Being back, looking around, it was as though they had never left. It was still a town full of people too ignorant to know what was going on. They either didn't know what was going on or didn't or couldn't do anything about it.
--
"Why?" Kuro muttered, pressing the tip of her sword to the flesh of her arm. "Why, of the two people strong enough to kill me, is one dead and the other too scared?"
She sank to her knees, her sword falling loosely to the ground. "Why can't I just…? Why can't I…?
"Why?"
--
School was just the same as always: loud and busy. Nobody knew—nobody understood. How could they?
"Where have you been, Kuro-san?" the teacher demanded, smacking Kuro over the head with a book. Kuro didn't answer, knowing that there was no way she could answer.
Everything she once knew was gone, again. Her brother, her old life. Even her memories of her father were tainted with distrust and lies.
--
How could she have not felt this agony before? It tore through her, biting deep into her skin, deeper than the wounds covering her pale, scarred body, ripping her apart from the inside.
"Are you alright?"
Was she alright? Those words were meaningless. She was broken, she was scarred, she was falling apart. "Being alright" meant that there was some part of her left to be alright.
She didn't have anything left.
--
"I'm really sorry about your brother." That was Orihime. She had lost her brother, too. She could empathize.
BS.
She sounded as sweet and sympathetic as always, and it only served to sicken Kuro.
What the hell did she know? What the hell did any of them know?
--
She couldn't take it anymore. She wanted out. She wanted out so badly, and she couldn't get out.
There was no way out.
Her mind was going to disintegrate, leaving just an empty, broken body.
She was just an empty shell, just a body without a soul.
Isami.
--
"Oh, you lost your brother? I'm so sorry."
Sorry. Sorry didn't mean anything. It was just a word. It was just saying: I need to say something, because it's expected.
Why bother? It was obvious she wasn't listening, obvious she didn't care.
--
"What are you going to do now?"
What was she going to do now? There wasn't anything she could do, really. She had part of her life hiding from the people who had kept her imprisoned for most of the rest of her life.
She was a coward. That was what she was. She was just a coward, too scared to even get up and face herself in the mirror. She was too afraid of what she would see.
She was too afraid of what she was.
--
"Come on, Kuro."
It was his voice. Not the voice she had woken up to for years, earlier, but the new voice.
The new voice.
It was the voice that told her that she was home, the voice that told her that she was okay.
But she wasn't okay.
She wasn't okay, and she wasn't going to be. She was shattered and broken and falling apart and not okay.
But it was still his voice.
--
She was a monster; that was what she was. She was a monster and she knew it and she hated it with all her might. She had known for years, ever since she lost control.
Being afraid of what you were didn't make you any less dangerous. She knew that. In fact, it might only make you more dangerous, because the more afraid you are, the less in control you are.
She knew that, too.
--
They were all dying. Why would it make such a difference if she died sooner?
It would relieve her of that horrible agony.
But she couldn't do it. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't do it. She couldn't take her own life. She was so sick of fighting, so sick of taking lives.
She was scared.
She was scared.
Did that make her any less human?
--
She felt as though she had gone in a full circle. She was breaking, she was broken, she was mending, she was breaking, and now she was broken again.
She was shattered into a million little pieces, shards scattered on the ground, stepped on and shattered into even smaller pieces.
And then nobody had bothered to pick them up.
--
She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be left alone in silence, so she could think.
Not that she wanted to think. She had to think. It was her payment.
She had to pay for the death she had caused. He had loved her; he truly had. He hadn't known how to show it, but he had loved her like almost nobody else had.
--
He was gone.
He was gone.
She was just a child, but she wasn't. She wasn't a child anymore.
Children didn't kill, didn't slaughter.
He was a child, but he wasn't. He wasn't a child anymore.
Children didn't love, didn't hate.
She knew the moment they stopped being children. It was the moment he stopped being Hayate and she stopped being human.
She remembered that moment, and would for all eternity.
--
Snow was still falling.
White drifted from the sky, down to the dirt-spattered ground, covering everything, coating everything.
She was going to survive this, not for herself, but for Isami. Her life was a tribute to Isami, because he saved her, and then she killed him.
And now I live, and now my life is done.
--
And now the story is officially done. I don't know when the sequel will be posted, but I can tell you that it will be a while. Please review. How did you like the chapter? The end? The characters? The plot? And corrections? Any ideas?
