Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. It is property of Tite Kubo.
Author's Note: Hey, I'm back with more! I'm glad that those of you who read the prologue liked it, so here's the first official chapter that will hopefully explain certain things. Also, it was inspired by the Side and the Rotator, so it is divided in Part A, from Ichigo's POV and Part B, from Rukia's POV. I also added motivation to these characters as in the original myth there's not much to Orpheus and Eurydice in terms of motivation lol.
Hope you like it!
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Guest: Thank you very much! Hope you also enjoy the first official chapter. I'm glad you like my stories! Thank you so much for reviewing!
I. once upon a time
Once upon a time there was a boy with the gift of song
Long, long ago, when both gods and men roamed the Earth, there was a goddess who decided to live amongst humans. Her name was Masaki and hers were all stories and songs. A muse for the poets of old. Hair like the sun, and eyes like gold, she enamored those desperate for illumination. But if there is one thing which is constant for muses is that they end up leaving. And, one day, she decided to escape her gilded cage and soar through the sky. She searched far and wide, high and low, for something that would inspire her for a change.
And in the tiniest of villages, she found him.
His name was Isshin, the village's healer.
In his midnight hair, Masaki finally discovered the beauty of darkness.
In his amber eyes, she found out why humans greed for the gems of the Earth.
For the first time in her life, she felt compelled to sing a song of her own.
Singing la la la la la la la
Suddenly Masaki was a woman, no longer a goddess, and she gave Isshin what only women can give.
They spent a whole summer together and then some more, frolicking in the grass, swimming in the river, enjoying everything there is to see on Earth. All the stories and songs were no longer pretty things to possess. They finally held meaning in the way the sun would rise and set every night. In the way Isshin would smile at her, and his eyes would close when in the throes of passion. All for her.
As the seasons changed one by one, so did life inside of Masaki. From their love a son was born next summer. Hair like the sun, eyes like gold. The vivid image of his mother, but with his father's spirit. Ichigo they named him, because both parents knew he was destined for greatness.
All was well in the world.
Life could have gone on in this simplicity, if only Masaki had been woman indeed.
But if there is one thing which is constant for a muse is that she will end up abandoning the poet, no matter how much he may love her.
And Isshin loved her.
She was his sun.
Yet, she still left.
And because she was not flesh and blood, Masaki was not able to feel remorse.
She did, however, leave something important behind.
A gift for her son, a gift coming from the gods.
The gift of song.
Since before Ichigo could speak, he was already well-versed in music.
The older he got, the more his gift grew.
By the time he had turned eighteen, his songs were so magnificent that nature itself seemed to bend at his will. Trees would lower their branches so that he could pick their fruit, rivers would part to let him cross, and even the most fearsome of beasts would become meek when listening to his lyre.
The people in the village, after witnessing such miracles, applauded him, waiting to see what he would do next.
Ichigo felt proud of himself, but there was still something he wanted to do.
His goal became writing a song so beautiful that not even the gods would be able to resist it.
A song meant to change destiny.
And so, the young man spent day and night trying to write it, but nothing came close to what he had ambitioned to write.
Until, one summer day, he came across the most stunning pair of eyes he had ever seen.
Then, the song wrote itself.
Singing la la la la la la la
Once upon a time there was a girl destined to die
Back when human beings would kneel down and pray, and gods would play with humans as was their will, there was a girl who had drawn an unlucky lot. The Fates had had it against her from the moment she had been born. All humans must die. That is an unmistakable truth. As unchangeable as the sea and the sky. However, in Rukia's case, death was meant to arrive sooner rather than later. From the first time she had breathed, the Fates had lain out her thread of life, ready to cut it short.
This didn't mean that Rukia had not attempted to escape her fate.
First, it had been her mother who had perished, as a result of an exhausting childbirth. In such conditions, normally the babe would have followed suit, yet Rukia had been born screaming. A fighter, the little one was. Her father regarded this as a miracle, and had named her accordingly. Rukia. A light to snuff out all darkness. That was who she was meant to be.
And this could have been the end of it.
A little girl that would grow up with no mother, but with a loving father and a caring sister.
But the Fates were always one step ahead.
If Rukia was meant to live, her existence would be filled with pain.
During her first winter, both her father and sister got sick. Although Hisana had managed to make a full recovery, their father had died before Rukia's first birthday. The sisters, all alone in the world, had had to fend for themselves. Moving from one place to another, in search of sustenance and housing. Putting up with injustice after injustice, if only to survive another day.
Rukia had grown up a young, hungry girl.
But she was nothing if not a fighter.
From a young age she had decided that she would not succumb just yet.
So she had fought hard, every day of her life, to get to see another day.
Rukia had learned how to steal before learning how to talk.
How to run before learning how to crawl.
When Hisana would despair in the wee hours of the night, it was Rukia who had to remind her sister about the things that needed to be done.
In a world in which you need to fight to survive, there are no things you wouldn't do just to have food in your belly and a warm bed to lay at night.
Every hardship, every risk, every pain had been worth it in the end.
Because both Hisana and Rukia, despite everything going against them, had reached adulthood, becoming two very beautiful young women with a whole life ahead of them.
And when Hisana had met and married a wealthy young man, it had seemed as if the gods had finally smiled upon them.
No more stealing or begging.
No more running for their lives.
Just a life filled with comfort instead.
They had thought they had finally escaped their fate.
But the Fates, ever cunning, would just smirk in return.
Because Hisana had never truly recovered of the illness which had killed her father. And after years of living in the cold, her lungs began to fail her.
First it was just a cough which would not go away.
Then, fainting followed.
Lastly, Hisana would start coughing up blood.
After five years of marriage, Hisana's health had declined until one day, just when the flowers had starting blooming, her body began wilting.
No one can escape their fate.
But Rukia was, thankfully, not all alone in the world.
Byakuya, who had been Hisana's husband, had taken care of Rukia, treating her as if she had been his own sister, from his flesh and blood.
She did not want for anything.
She finally had food in her belly, and a warm bed to lay at night.
But no one can really escape from their fate.
If the Fates had waited so many years to cut her life short had been for one reason only. The almighty, the god who controlled the destiny of mortals, still had one more thing he needed Rukia for.
And when she crossed paths with a boy with sun in his hair and gold in his eyes, the dice were finally tossed.
Because destiny cannot be changed, after all.
A/N: So, in this version Masaki is a goddess instead of Isshin, because in the original myth Orpheus's mother is a muse. Also, since Masaki died, I thought it was better to make her be the parent who goes away. Ichigo's need to write a song the gods won't resist it has to do with wanting to make the mother who left him proud.
I again included a few lyrics from Hadestown, those whom I thought were fitting.