Chapter 11: Divided
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Ichigo dreamed about it sometimes- the day he almost died.
In those dreams, he's always his nine-year old self- small for his age but a fast runner. Cloudless skies, scorching heat- the hottest he could ever remember. The attack came unprovoked and bodies were dropping to the ground- dead before they could even draw their blades to arm themselves.
Screaming- there was a lot of screaming, from the dead, from the survivors, from the horses. Chaos was everywhere and everything and the heat gave way to actual flames that devoured all in their path. The smoke and smell- of war, trampled bodies left in the aftermath of carnage and decay- choked him.
Death came to him in a form of a man- a demon in disguise with his terrible horns and even deadlier sword cutting down men and beasts alike as though they were stalks of wild grass and he, the scythe. He had sent many of his brethren back to the arms of their ancestors and now the hooves of his hell mount were coming for him.
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Run, run, run!
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Instincts told him to flee but his nimble feet grew roots. Fear took hold of him and a shell-shocked child like him was easy picking on the battleground littered with bodies of old and young alike.
Warm blood coated his face. He brought his hand up to it, swiped a finger to see the vibrant shade up close and personal. Do all men bleed the same shade of red, he wondered. His vision cleared for the briefest of a moment before the metallic smell assailed him and after that, the horror that followed the realization that it was his mother's.
His mother had tried in vain to pull him out of harm's way and in desperation, flung herself between him and his attacker.
Fortified iron sliced through her.
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A scream echoed- he can't be sure if it was his own or his mother's as her lifeless husk fell backwards, trapping him underneath. Even in her death, she protected him and he was powerless to change anything- too weak even to shift the heavy load off his body.
His mother's body pinned him down and his world was a vision of blue- the colour of the sky. How strange it was that the sky would remain so peaceful and tranquil when the world beneath was a bleeding mass of red.
He heard the sound of a blade being drawn all the same.
The man dismounted. Footsteps loomed closer until quite suddenly Ichigo saw him- death personified, twin horns jutting from his helmet as he stared down at him, pale as the moon with his green eyes vacant, disinterested, black lines marking the tears that he will not shed. The kill was impersonal to the man but Ichigo's eyes were wide open- glassy, horrified.
How did it feel- to be the taker of lives so many that one became numb to it?
His lips moved to form words but no sound came out and his would-be killer would not be swayed by the emotions of a child, struggling to be let to live.
The sword plunged into him, straight through his mother's body.
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He woke up, drenched in cold sweat- chest heaving, eyes wild. He pressed a hand to his abdomen- his scar was throbbing. Old wounds, especially the ones that made the difference between life and death, never heal quite the way that they should.
"Are you awake?"
His aunt's voice grounded him. That was just a dream- the memories of a boy half-scared to death. Things were different now. If he ever met the man again, demon or not- Ichigo swore that he would redeem himself and avenge his parents.
"I am now," he told her as he sat upright. He ignored the ache, shifting his gaze to the unannounced visitor in his tent. He let out a weary sigh. She'd been waiting to give him an earful; her displeasure a build up from the weeks before so they might as well have it.
"Let's hear it then."
"I am not happy with your decision. Kisuke said as much. You are leaving too many loose ends. I have seen enough of them to know that it will come back to haunt you in time."
"Yet it is already done. The Sheikh always wins."
Yoruichi frowned. It was one thing to be confident, quite another to be overly optimistic and blind to the danger, "Yes but only for as long as he is the Sheikh. An overthrown ruler is no better than a horse. Now is not the time for magnanimity. Your kindness will send you to an early grave!"
"And you will be there to make sure that it doesn't happen," he replied coolly.
Ichigo didn't fear death. Not when the mark on his stomach so starkly reminded him that he should have been dead all those seasons ago. The cut was deep but the killer missed. Ichigo was inclined to believe that the mistake was due to his killer's unfamiliarity with the anatomy of a child than an innate sense of compassion.
It was a miracle that they found him- barely clinging on to life and delirious from the blood loss after they managed to drive off the attackers. With a hare-brained scheme that reeked of his uncle's brand of mad genius and recklessness his body was stitched together and made to hold with threads and when the skin took too long to mend with the fear of gangrene setting in, the man took a torch and held it against the wound.
"This is exactly the sort of mentality that will get you killed," Yoruichi grumbled, "Stop being reckless. Who's going to watch over the twins if you die?"
"If I die, watch over Karin and Yuzu for me, send the bastard who did the deed after me and we'll call it even. You can even take the title of Sheikh for yourself if you want to."
Yoruichi scowled. "Watch over them yourself. The men will stage a mutiny at the thought of a woman as Sheikh."
"Yet I have no doubt that you would bring them to their knees anyway."
She brushed off his suggestion flippantly. "It would be as Kisuke says. The position comes with more hassle than its worth, much easier to manipulate things from behind the shadows with you as a figurehead."
Ichigo deadpanned, "I am ever so honoured to be of use. Speaking of ill-conceived plans why did you have me take in Orihime? She almost ruined everything."
His aunt rolled her eyes. "The girl has her uses still. You and I both know there needs to be a reconciliation of sorts between you and Grimmjow soon. I imagine with this recent fallout- the other clans will be waiting for further signs of weakness from us. We must not give them that satisfaction."
Topaz eyes gleamed, "I against my brother, my brothers and I against my cousins, then my cousins and I against of our differences, the Kurosaki clan must appear strong and united to the tribe lest the other clans start getting ideas, thinking that they can replace us. You know what needs to be done."
Ichigo grimaced.
A cousin marriage- that sort of union was still very much encouraged in their society to strengthen and protect the minimal lineage. And as leader, it was expected him to lead by example- to follow tradition and preserve the bloodline, to mend the family rift so to speak, presumably by marrying one of his sisters to his cousin.
"Over my dead body!"
He would rather die. Marriage to that mad man was not a fate he would wish on either of the twins. The bastard might abuse or neglect them in some perverted notion of justification!
"Precisely- by making the girl your sister, she becomes another candidate. A much better candidate if I may," the smile Yoruichi offered him spoke of a ruthlessness that he could never hope to achieve, "better her than one of the twins."
Ichigo looked away. He could not fault Yoruichi for that. Their pact was made specifically for that purpose. The strong protects the weak and blood takes care of blood. He swore that he would do anything for them.
He owed them that much at least. They had already lost so much because of him. He and Yoruichi would gladly take up the sword, cut through everyone and everything standing in their path. He would bury his conscience so deep that it would never be found; if it meant that the twins would never have to feel blood on their hands.
"The Healer has been asking questions about you. There is much more to her than what she lets on. Even if she is not a threat now, her presence is an ill omen. Get rid of her."
His hesitation echoed in his lack of response.
His aunt sighed.
"You swore that you would do anything to keep your sisters safe. Prove to me now that you haven't forgotten that oath."
His inhale was sharp. "I haven't but she stays."
The colour of her exotic eyes thrilled him, the things that she said, the choices she made- this healer woman was a mystery and he had just barely skimmed the surface of what she was. He couldn't let her go before he had his answers.
"I agree."
His body tensed, fingers bracing for the hilt of his sword before he realized that it was only Karin. Her dark eyes met his, nodding briefly as a greeting.
"Oh my little black bird," said Yoruichi, "don't sneak up on us like that! How much of the conversation had you overheard?"
"Enough," said Karin cryptically as she ducked into the bayt, seating herself carelessly next to the older woman who eyed her dust-covered attire and wind-swept hair with a grimace.
"What will your future husband do when he learns of his wife's habits? All those bruises and mysterious injuries," she tutted, "Just look at the state of your clothes- it's like you spent an entire day rolling in the sand!"
Karin scowled fiercely. "If the fool values his life, he will learn not to speak of it."
Ichigo rolled his eyes at her.
Far be it from him to curb Karin's passion but her penchant of climbing trees and horse-racing had a tendency of leaving her bruised and injured. That- he cannot abide by. Really their aunt should consider giving her a lecture about recklessness instead.
Karin's unconventional habits and almost brusque manner had isolated her from girls her age and most boys had enough sense to steer clear from the beloved sister of an overprotective sheikh; those who didn't have the unhealthy tendency to draw out her competitiveness, her determination to one-up the rest of them to prove that her sex didn't make her any less capable. The same qualities that made her an undesirable bride would have easily made her the favourite son of the household had she been born with a different set of genitals.
Yoruichi sighed good-humouredly- as accommodating as always when it came to the girls, especially Karin.
"Why should we let the girl stay?"
"She is kind-" the girl held out her palms, bandaged with the dark green poultice showing at the edges –"she treated me when I cut my hands from the leather reins earlier. And I was there when you were 'poisoned'. I saw how worried she was, how much trouble she went through to save you. She's smart and she helped us; that means something- surely."
Yoruichi didn't look impressed- not by the slightest.
"These are the arguments that I would have expected Yuzu to come up with, Karin- not you. Even your brother knows better. Her allegiance is a mystery and her kindness can cut us just as easily as it can help us. Maybe not today but in the future- who's to say. As long as we know nothing of her past and her agenda, she will remain a double-edged sword to us."
Ichigo tried his luck.
"Is she so adept that even you couldn't see her attacks coming?"
Yoruichi laughed. "Your attempt at subterfuge is commendable but I remain unconvinced."
"Give her a chance," pleaded Karin, throwing a glare at her brother's direction, "you've said it yourself she could be useful."
Ichigo caught on. "If you can find a use for a girl like Orihime, then surely you would be able to find a use for her. Nothing fazes a brilliant woman like you."
"Flattery will get you anywhere, Ichigo but not today and not with the heavy, liberal way that you layer it on with. Finesse is the key here. And the answer is still no."
"But what if I can prove her loy- no- what if I can sway her to our side permanently? If it's her past and the lack of information that bothers you then I'll just find it out for you."
She snorted; spoken in true Ichigo fashion- "The girl refuses to be used. I know her kind. You'll have a hard time persuading her to do anything she doesn't want to. And she's smart- a girl like that is hard to control. She could upset a lot of things."
"That's not a 'no' though."
Yoruichi narrowed her eyes. She was beginning to see a pattern. Her nephew had a thing about picking up strays but never with a persistence that rivalled on annoying.
"Why are you so adamant on her staying?"
He shrugged. "She's interesting."
His reply was short and meant to convey his disinterest but a woman like her read between the lines; knew what the nervous fingers at the nape of his neck meant when he wasn't meeting her gaze. Her lips curled. Maybe it will do him some good to learn that things will not always go his way even if he were Sheikh, especially when there was a girl involved.
There were some life lessons that could not be skipped.
She would be there to make sure that the infatuation didn't consume him and hopefully make him a better liar in time. The boy was so hopelessly transparent.
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"Fine! But don't come crying to me when she refuses to be swayed," she warned, "I told you that she will not be won over easily."
His eyes brightened, burning golden as he shared a look with his sister who likewise, beamed.
Yoruichi shook her head in fond amusement. Out of the three siblings, Yuzu was the only one who didn't give her a headache. Her two older siblings were a handful and the source of all her grey hair.
"Now go and dress yourself, Karin," her tone was one that brooked no arguments as she caught the girl by the wrist, "I insist you change into a proper dress before the ceremony."
Karin's shoulders slumped, pouting almost as she whined, "What's wrong with what I have on right now?"
"If you have time to whine about it then you have the time to do something about your hair as well. Now go!"
Yoruichi practically shoved Karin out of the tent, and when it became apparent that the young girl had no intention of being quick about it, started dragging her along.
"We mustn't be late. It's not every day that you gain a new sister."
With his aunt and sister gone, Ichigo busied himself with his morning rituals. Today was the day of the ceremony to officiate Orihime, formerly of the clan Kasumioji into his family and clan. He was formally adopting her as his new sister.
It was imperative that he was presentable for the occasion to act in both his capacity as the head of the family and in his role as Sheikh or he would never hear the end of it from his aunt.
He was halfway through shaving when the pain started again. He winced at the dull ache. As his fingers pressed down on the old wound, something sprang to mind- a feeling, a premonition of sorts.
The man who marked him was coming his way.
Hate readily ignited at the thought. The man robbed him of his parents, his childhood and his innocence and for that; Ichigo would not hesitate in returning the favour.
His fist clenched. A determined scowl set on his face as he stared at his own reflection in the wash basin- blood blossoming with flourish from the accidental cut on his face.
He won't miss.
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To think that IR week has been and gone .
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