Oh, my god, I am so, so sorry it took this long to get this chapter written and up. I had, like, a million things going on - I had to visit family, and I got banned from the computer and I was pretty depressed for a little bit cause I stopped taking my meds, but those are all just excuses. Finally writing this made me feel a lot better though, so all's well that ends well, I guess.
So, I probably won't be updating as quickly, probably like once a week. I just got my blue belt in karate, so I've decided to dedicate myself to it more. But my AP classes are all done, so I'll have plenty of free time to write, so maybe I will update more often. Ah, who knows.
Anyway, on with the story!
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warmthwarmthwarmth
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The night air was cool and still. A half-moon hung suspended in the navy blue sky, bright stars scattered around it. Spring was approaching quickly, and Orihime knew that Ichigo was ready, now, to leave the calm of the Rukongai and return to a world of battles and strength. Kukaku knew it, too, and she wasn't going to let him stay a moment more than he needed to.
Four bursts of light leapt from the tip of Orihime's braid in quick succession. Three formed a triangle in front of her, the fourth sitting in the center. "Shiten Koushun (Four-Heaven Resisting Shield)!" she demanded. "I reject!"
Golden light connected them all, filling in the triangle. Uryu, straight ahead of her, raised his arm - in his hand, he held a small, white bow, a solid one - and aimed it straight ahead. Bracing herself, she grit her teeth and placed her palms against the shield.
Eight arrows rapidly launched themselves and collided with her shield. Instantly, they vanished, and bursts of pure energy, equal in strength to the arrows, retraced their paths. Only a quick Hiren Kyaku saved Uryu from the force of his own attack.
Orihime let her Shun-Shun Rikka return to her flower-petal hairpins, tucked in the tie at the end of her braid. She rested her hands on her knees, breathing deeply in and out. The thick, muggy August air didn't help much, but her slight trembling from the exertion of using this new shield calmed.
A thin hand was placed on her shoulder, steadying her. "Good job, Atsumi-chan." her companion said. "You got it to work."
"I never bought it would take so much effort to use two kinds of rejection at the same time," she murmured, to the night air more than him, really. Straightening, she smiled wearily at him.
Uryu studied her solemnly. "You can be really amazing when you put your mind to it," he commented. Turning away, he offered a piece of advice. "Just don't let your heart waver. The moment uncertainty enters your soul, you fail." The moon seemed to shine a little brighter with the truth of his words.
She knew it was true. When focused, determined, she could do extraordinary things. Long ago, Aizen (Aizen-sama, a quiet voice in her head whispered) had said it; she had powers that surpassed the gods. There was no explanation for it, for why she, out of all of the people in the world, had this ability. It was just the way things were, and she wasn't about to waste that power.
Orihime sat down lightly on the grass and laid back, looking up at the stars. Uryu joined her, relaxing. " Kei-kun's getting restless," she stated quietly. "I don't think he even realizes it, but he is."
Hearing the rustle of grass rather than seeing Uryu's head turn toward her, she let her eyes flutter closed. Behind her eyelids, she watched again the latest sparring session between Ichigo and Kukaku. He had battled with an aggression she hadn't seen since he died.
The feeling that filled her wasn't bad, exactly, but a strange combination of happiness and sadness. Joy, because it meant that Ichigo was really healed now. Sadness, because this dream-like time here in the Rukongai was coming to an end.
Uryu scoffed. "Of course he doesn't realize it. He's... beyond dense." He felt somewhat the same way as she did, she knew, but for him it was different. The little bit of joy at Ichigo's healing was eclipsed by sadness and frustration. He didn't want to share Ichigo and Orihime with the rest of the world. He was even getting jealous of Kukaku now. Uryu liked the idea of it being the three of them against the world.
Truthfully, she wouldn't mind that either. But his love was different from hers. Both of them wanted Ichigo to be happy, but Uryu wanted more for Ichigo to be happy with him - with the two of them, because they were too much of a family for him to be jealous of her - and vice-versa. His love, like hers wasn't even especially romantic at the moment, but it was strong.
After six and a half years, it should be.
"Kei-kun... wouldn't leave us. He would never, ever leave us." The reassuring words weren't only meant for the raven-haired boy. She was telling herself, too. After a moment, she opened her eyes and let her gaze drift across the stars.
Her companion didn't respond. The rustle of grass told her that he had turned his face back toward the sky. For a long while, neither of them spoke, instead listening to the sounds of the night without really hearing them.
Orihime just thought about Ichigo. In the stars, she saw his face, made beautiful by the crooked, but true, smile on his lips. She saw his Kurotsuki, and the hollow mask he'd only recently begun to summon, one colored all red, as if the slowly evolving designs had simply spread until they didn't have anywhere else to go. She saw him sitting cross-legged, sipping a cup of Kukaku's wonderful green tea, and him with his brow furrowed in concentration, not irritation, holding up his arms to perform his first successful kidou. She saw him with his arm around Uryu's shoulders, grinning while the Quincy tried to remain composed, and climbing the giant tree near their home. In her mind, he faced off against Kukaku, wandered through the district 11 market, and sat quietly while she ran her fingers through his fiery, waist-long hair. He led her and Uryu up onto the roof on New Year's, carrying warm blankets, and they watched the sunrise together.
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Warm hands shook her gently. She moaned softly and rolled over. Her futon seemed unusually lumpy and hard, not to mention cold and wet. Had she kicked off her blankets in the middle of the night? It wasn't uncommon.
She was shaken again. Ignoring this person wasn't working. She tried to yawn quietly, and instantly received a mouthful of grass.
"Plthek!" The brunette pushed herself up so quickly she nearly fell over. Little "ptooie!" sounds could be heard coming from her. Once she had finished cleaning out her mouth, she coughed once and sat back on her feet.
Uryu had the back of his wrist pressed up against his mouth, his shoulders shaking. His blue eyes were watching her with great amusement. Her indignant glare did nothing to dissuade his laughter; in fact, his shoulders only shook harder, and he bent over, his other hand on his stomach.
They walked home in a comfortable silence. Uryu's Quincy cross was hidden away again, secured on a ribbon wrapped tight around his upper arm. The two of them couldn't allow anyone to see the powers they had held as humans.
Both of them had bare feet, foregoing sandals for their nighttime training. The dewy grass felt good on Orihime's fet and between her toes. She walked slowly, enjoying the feeling, with her hands clasped behind her back. Her head hung lower than usual, though, watching the ground pass by.
When they reached the house, she motioned for Uryu to go in without her. "I'll come in in a minute," she said quietly. He studied her for a moment, then nodded and went in, sliding the door shut behind him.
Orihime looked up at the lightening sky. It was just beginning to turn a pale orange. A little ways away, a bird flew from the tall tree, silhouetted against the sky. There was still no wind, the sun not yet up enough to warm the air currents. She gazed around the familiar landscape, what had been home for the past six years. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
Saying goodbye to this place would be sad. She'd had a home - a real home, not just a place where she slept - for the first time since (Aizen-sama and Las Noches) her brother had died. And it was nice to have a sister, or something like a sister. Even having Ganju around was fun.
Yawning deeply, she stretched her arms out above her head. Turning her back on the scenery, she made her way inside, where Uryu was already boiling water for tea. He nodded to her, and she smiled in response, feeling better about what was coming today. Sure, they were leaving, but this home would still be there, still welcome them when they needed it. And Ichigo needed, right now, to move on, and she would follow him anywhere, no matter the consequences.
In her room, she pulled out a soft pink yukata and pulled it on. She draped her braid over her shoulder and slid off the ribbon that kept it together, removing her flower pins along with it. Chestnut hair unwound as she combed her fingers through it, falling just past her hips. In the first few months of living in the Rukongai, when they were still figuring things out, Orihime had told Kukaku that she would not cut her hair, even to disguise herself. Even though she had not seen Tatuki for years, even though she was Ikari Atsumi now, she still felt so close to her former protector, and she still trusted that if she ever needed it, Tatsuki would move mountains (perhaps even literally) to come to her aid.
Letting her hair hang loose, she wandered into the kitchen. A cup of green tea was already sitting on the zataku (1), steam curling upward from the rim. She bent over and picked it up, wrapping her hands around it. The heat from the fresh tea had already soaked through the ceramic, making it warm against her skin. She wasn't cold, but it felt nice.
Uryu was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed that he, like her, had gone to his room to get properly dressed for the day in clothing not stained by grass. She sat down at the table, her head tilted absently toward the ceiling as she drank periodically from the cup clasped in her hands.
Before long, another person entered the room. It was Kukaku, already fully awake and dressed. "Ohayo (2), Atsumi-chan," the older woman grinned. She dropped herself down in front of the table as well.
Kukaku observed Orihime with the same awareness and understanding that she had shown so long ago when they first arrived. "I'll miss having you three around," she murmured lazily. "Not that I'll be informing Kei-chan of this fact," she added, waving her hand airily. She grinned at Orihime, dropping her forearm back to the table.
Slowly, that grin faded back into a more contemplative look. Kukaku tapped Orihime lightly on the arm with her finger, just enough to make sure she had her attention. "Take care of my otouto (3) for me, ne (4)?" she told the girl firmly. "I put a lotta work into clearing away all the baggage heaped on him, I don't need those idiots in there piling it on him again."
Orihime finally looked at her and gave a small smile. "Don't worry, Kukaku-san," she said, her voice like steel. "I won't let them."
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It was into the afternoon before it finally happened. Orihime was watching Ichigo and Uryu circle each other, zanpaku-tou's drawn, from the roof of the house. They liked to spar, the remnants of their previous rivalry showing themselves only here.
"Why're you taking so long?" Ichigo shouted to the slender raven. "I thought you liked to catch your enemies off guard!" He was grinning, Kurotsuki held casually out in front of him with both hands.
"Are you implying that I'm a coward, Kei?" Uryu said cooly from his fighting stance, one hand holding the hilt of his tanto (5) so that the blade ran down, not up, when he held his fist out, and the other open like a blade itself in front of him, his body almost crouching.
Ichigo laughed. "So what if I am?" he challenged. "Even you have to admit that sneaking up on your enemy's back and stabbing it before they have time to turn around is -"
His rant was interrupted by the very thing it was about. Orihime could barely even see them move; in an instant, Uryu appeared behind Ichigo, who whirled around and stopped Tenshiyari's blade inches from his skin. A moment later, Uryu had vanished again, appearing a few feet away. With any other opponent, she knew, he would attack from behind again, the first move having only been a feint, but Ichigo knew that trick too well from hundreds of mock-battles.
The redhead launched himself forward, long orange hair flying wildly behind him, ready to match blades with the knife-wielder, when something hit him hard enough in the side of the head to knock him over. Orihime leapt down from the roof immediately and hurried over, worried, when Kukaku's snort of laughter sounded from the porch. She slowed, knowing that Ichigo was alright, even though he was groaning and rubbing his head with a dazed look.
"Kuso (6), woman, did you have to throw it so hard?" he grumbled. He didn't shout, he didn't stand up and point angrily at his sister; he was mature now, in a way he didn't have the ability to be before.
It gave her a warm feeling in her chest.
"Don't grumble, brat! Take a look at it!" She pointed imperiously at the thing on the ground. Ichigo picked it up, finding that it was a bottle filled with some sort of liquid.
"What's this?" he asked warily, turning the bottle in different directions and listening to the sloshing of its contents.
"Hair dye. A coat of that and you'll look like a normal person again." Orihime could see that Kukaku was grinning - not unusual for her, of course, but this grin was a bit sad behind the mischievousness.
"And why are you throwing at me now, nee-san?" he asked. Past him, Uryu rolled his eyes, exasperated by his nakama's complete thickheadedness. "I've been running around the Rukongai with orange hair for the past -" he had to pause to think about it, his eyes flicking upward for a moment and then back down to Kukaku "- six years, so what's it matter now?"
"I'm kicking your lazy butt outta here," she responded without hesitation. His dumbstruck look made her grin all the more amused (and a bit sadistic, Orihime thought). "You're going to the shinigami if I have to kick you all the way there myself," she added for good measure. "It's time to get out there, otouto."
She spun around and strode inside again, sliding the door shut hard behind her. Ichigo looked between his two nakama and the bottle in his hands, his face saying that he was still trying to comprehend her announcement.
Orihime couldn't take it anymore. She giggled. As soon as the two males' attention turned to her, she clapped her hands over her mouth, but she couldn't hold back her laughter. Soon, she had to remove her hands to gasp in more oxygen. "The look... on your face..." she wheezed out. The sadness and pride and happiness and loneliness and all of it had caught up to her, fueling her sudden hysterical amusement.
Uryu shook his head and sighed. "Let's go inside," he said wearily. "Maybe you two can pull yourselves together in there." He started toward the building, a dazed redhead and breathless brunette trailing him like ducklings.
She could barely see past the spots appearing in her sight (oooh, pretty, rainbow), but she managed to see Uryu turn back as he reached the porch and survey their surroundings. He lifted his head to the sky, much the same way as she had herself this morning, and his lips formed words, even though no sound left them.
Only once they were inside did she figure out what he had said, silently, to the soft blue sky.
"Sayonara (7), risoukyou (8)."
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She was bone-tired. The only sleep she had gotten last night was a few hours laying on cold ground outside. Before that, she'd exhausted herself trying to combine two parts of her soul that didn't naturally mix, and this afternoon, she'd spent hours dying her own and Ichigo's hair and packing for tomorrow. Not to mention all of her worrying and thinking about what her - their - life would be like from here on. Now she only wanted to sleep.
But she wanted something else, too. As mentally exhausted as she was, she still felt the need to do one more thing before she slept - or, really, while she slept. She laid down on her soft and comfortable futon, truly relaxing for the first time that day. Already she was drifting off, even as she pulled her blankets up to her chin to keep her warm. The last thing she did before falling into a deep sleep was pull her precious Kodokunatsuki up to her chest and hold it tight.
For a little while, her mind indulged in much-needed rest. Gradually, though, she became aware of muted voices around her, and a soft ambient light filtering in through her eyelids. She lay prone on something soft which shifted with the movements of her body. She recognized the feeling - this was sand, sand so fine that it was almost dust.
The recognition pulled her into awareness. She sat up, feeling fresh and relaxed. Halfway up, though, her head collided with something hard.
"Gyah!" She flopped back, pressing her palms to her suddenly sore forehead. From somewhere nearby, a deep voice chanted "Itai-tai-tai-tai-tai (9)."
She opened her eyes carefully to a black sky. A crescent moon hung in the sky. No clouds surrounded it, but neither did stars. Turning her head to the chanting, she found a black-haired man in a shihakusho, kneeling next to her, his hands also pressed to his forehead.
He looked up and saw her staring at him. "You have a freakishly hard head, Orihime," he complained.
"You say that every time," a cool voice said from behind her. "And yet you always manage to make the same mistake." She turned and craned her neck up, to see a familiar pale man with green tear streaks down his cheeks.
"Aw, shove it, Ulqui," she shinigami said good-naturedly. Ulquiorra, dressed in the same Espada uniform as always, regarded him neutrally and turned away. "Well, I feel hurt," the shinigami declared.
Orihime turned back to him and giggled. "Silly Kaien-san," she said, the pain in her head already fading. Nothing hurt for long, here.
"Oh, what did he do now, Hinadori-chan (10)?" a warm voice asked. A woman with hair of a color similar to her own approached, wearing a flowing grass green skirt and a pale yellow blouse. She was beautiful, and just her presence seemed to lighten the girl's heart.
"Ah, Masaki-san!" She beamed at the woman who couldn't help but be a mother to all she met. Kurosaki Masaki was as beautiful as Tatsuki had said, and she always had felt so honored to have Ichigo's beloved mother residing in her soul.
It was as inexplicable as her Shun-Shun Rikka. The dead loved ones of the people closest to her lived on inside her inner world. Rukia's mentor, Uryu's grandfather, Ichigo's mother - and her own keeper during her time in Las Noches (her time serving Aizen-sama). It was a phenomenon she couldn't explain, but something that she was so grateful for whoever, or whatever, had given her this.
Orihime looked down. Sure enough, a young child hung onto Masaki-san's skirt, peeking out from behind her leg. The mother's hand was placed on the top of her head. When she saw Orihime looking at her, she detached herself and dashed over. The little girl climbed into her lap, wrapped her arms around her torso, and buried her head in her stomach. A muffled "Okaeri (11), Hime-sama" emerged from the bundle of gray fabric in her lap.
The brunette's expression softened, and like Masaki-san, she placed a comforting hand on the little girl's head. "Arigatou (12), Tsuki-chan," she murmured.
A long finger poked her in the side of the head. "Ne (13), Orihime, what's goin' on?" Kaien's concerned voice asked. She looked up, startled, realizing only then that her expression had become sadder than she had intended.
"Ah, it's... We're leaving tomorrow," she said softly. She looked over at the marble building sitting in the sand, surrounded by a wall a few feet taller than her. Her old school building, the place where she had met Ichigo, and Uryu, and Chad, and Rukia, and everyone else but Tatsuki, stood there, stark against the obsidian sky.
She felt a cool hand settle on her shoulder, and turned her head to meet Ulquiorra's emerald gaze. "It's alright, Ulquiorra-san," she assured him. "It's just a little..." She trailed off, looking down at the smooth white sand between her fingers. "It's not... a surprise. Kei-kun - Ichigo-kun is... ready now. He has to... move on, or..."
It was getting harder to get the words out. She heard another person approach - Souken-san. But she didn't look up, couldn't look. The selfish, twisting feeling she'd been burying all day was building up, forming a block in her throat that the words couldn't get past.
Warm arms encircled her. Soft hair brushed against her cheek, and a hand guided her head onto a shoulder. "Shh, itoshii (14), shh, omoimono (15). It's alright." Caring fingers stroked her hair, and a cheek rested against her head. "Let it out."
Orihime's hands clutched at Masaki-san blouse, and her face was buried in the crook of her neck. She trembled, trying to hold in the tears threatening to spill.
Kaien's strong hand smoothed down her hair, replacing Masaki-san's so that it could stroke her back, instead. In between the orange-haired woman and Orihime, the little child hugged the bigger girl in her arms even tighter.
"Onna (16)," Ulquiorra's smooth voice said from beside her. It wasn't the monotone it had been when she first met him. Certainly, he wasn't a paragon of emotion, but he could feel things now. "You are the most... kind... caring person I have ever met." He paused, as if he was unsure of what he should say or how to say it. "It is not... bad for you to... want something for yourself, when you give so much to others."
Now she was really crying, sobbing quietly into the shoulder of the only mother figure she'd ever had. Beyond Masaki-san, another person approached, his footsteps muffled by the soft sand. She felt Souken-sensei's gaze on her as he spoke, as wise and kind as always.
"Orihime-chan, you are very brave. You are going to leave the first place that has made you truly happy, because you will follow your loved ones anywhere in order to protect them. You trained for six years so that you could fight alongside them. You haven't seen many of your friends for years so that two of your others could have something precious to them. It isn't shameful to be scared and uncertain sometimes - and you always try to push through anything in your way. If you are feeling overwhelmed, it is alright to let it out."
"They love you so much, omoimono. So much." Masaki shifted her head to place a comforting kiss on the side of Orihime's head. "They don't want you to hurt, just like you don't want them to hurt."
Kaien's hand was warm on the top of her head. "Maybe I don't know exactly what you feel. But I do know one thing - you can trust your nakama with anything. So you should tell them - tell them that you're scared. You heal everyone else - now it's their turn to heal you. And no one can do that better than your friends."
Ulquiorra's thin hand sat awkwardly on her shoulder, but his thumb stroking the very top of her arm was oddly soothing. "You said once that you and your nakama shared a heart, that you all cared about one another. You told me that if one of them was in your position, you would rush to rescue them as well. I would imagine that you would want to know if one of your nakama was hurting. You would want to help them."
He paused for a moment, the movement of his thumb slowing. Hesitantly, he continued. "I have learned from you that emotions... are not simply good or bad, and even bad emotions can be good. Your friends would surely understand that as well."
Their kind words fueled her sobs, but they were from relief and gratefulness now. Her hands kneaded Masaki-san's blouse like a cat's paws, clinging to the silk fabric. Gradually, surrounded by their unyielding support, she quieted, emitting only soft hiccups.
She pulled her face away from Masaki-san's neck, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. The older woman released her, sitting back on the sand, her legs tucked elegantly beside her. She held Orihime's other hand gently, caringly.
Tsuki-chan, in her lap, looked up at her with large, innocent doe eyes, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Hime-onee-sama, I love you."
It was so sweet that Orihime couldn't help but smile down at the child, though it was a bit watery. "Arigatou, Tsuki-chan," she whispered, her throat sore from crying. She stroked the girl's hair much the same way hers had been stroked minutes earlier.
"Orihime-chan," Souken-sensei's grandfatherly voice said. She looked up to meet his eyes, which were caring but solemn.
"Hai (17), Souken-sensei?" she responded, clearing her throat in an attempt to speak properly.
"When you wake up, go to your friends."
She opened her mouth, then paused, suddenly unsure of herself. "I..." she started, her mind strangely... blank. For the first time in... ages, really.
"Go to them, Orihime. You'll feel better." Kaien's hand ruffled her hair one last time before pulling away.
She looked at Masaki-san, who smiled in encouragement, and down at Tsuki-chan, who sniffled and gave a smile similar to Masaki's. Ulquiorra, on her other side, nodded solemnly.
Wiping her nose and eyes one more time, she nodded back. "Hai," she whispered hoarsely.
Once again, she closed her eyes and fell into the comforting gray space between consciousness and her inner world.
Five people - four separate souls and a part of another - watched as her body dissolved into glittering specks of light that soon vanished completely.
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Orihime woke quickly, though her mind was still moving slowly. Remembering her promise to the souls inside of her, she pushed the covers off and lifted herself up from the futon, bringing her katana with her.
All she wore was a fundoshi (18) and a simple, short, thin kimono - the kind worn under every kimono, which Rukia had worn during her time as a prisoner.
White was comforting. There were no crazy patterns, which she liked to wear but sometimes could not stand to look at, and no bright colors, which sometimes hurt her eyes (the way the sun did). White was comforting. (White was home.)
Clutching Kodokunatsuki to her chest with both arms, keeping her body warm as well, she made her way as quietly as possible to the door and down the hall, her bare feet making no sound as they touched the tatami floors.
At Ichigo's door, she hesitated. In the silence, another door slid open, and Uryu, clad in the same white that she was (an ally), slipped into the hall. They studied each other silently.
Uryu was the first to break the silence. "You too, hm," he murmured, a sigh in his words. He gave her a wry smile, then slid closed his door silently and joined her at Ichigo's.
Uryu seemed to hesitate, like she had, but it was him who entered first. Orihime followed, looking around the small room, seeing the small painting of a foggy mountain hanging on the wall and the long katana laid at the side of a futon. The door to the outside was open a few inches, letting in the cool night breeze and making her shiver slightly.
Uryu's fingers brushed her arm softly, the look in his eyes concerned. Her lips twitched upward in response, lessening the concern but not eradicating it. He bent down and placed his own Tenshiyari next to Kurotsuki on the floor. She hadn't even noticed it in his hand until then.
Orihime knelt and let Kodokunatsuki join them, too. Looking over at the futon, she saw Ichigo sprawled on his stomach, his head turned toward her in his arms. Black hair was splayed across the covers, an unfamiliar sight for her, when she was so used to seeing bright orange. That was the only bright color, it seemed, that didn't hurt her eyes.
On the other side of the bed, Uryu lifted the sheets. Glancing up at her for a second, he slid underneath them, looking up once he was all the way under to prompt her to follow. Tentatively, she followed his lead.
Next to Ichigo, it was warm. The heat from his body seemed to go all the way to her bones. That calm blankness of her mind returned, and she closed her eyes. Everything was alright now, because Ichigo was there. Even that voice in the back of her mind that spoke of darker things was silent, laid to rest.
A shift of the pillow made her crack one eye open. Chocolate brown was staring drowsily back at her. After a moment, Ichigo's head turned the other way, towards Uryu. She shut her eyes again, too tired to keep them open.
The last thing she remembered was a strong arm coming up to drape over her side and pull her closer. She knew it was the same for Uryu, but that was alright.
Everything was alright.
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Three small gravestones sat under the large sakura (19) tree, overlooking the cemetery in full bloom. Three people, invisible to the human eye, crouched in front of them, carefully wiping them down and arranging crest flowers in front of them.
One was tall, and dark-skinned, watching over the other two as they worked. The second wore a sleeveless shihakusho and had her tiger-striped hair up in a high ponytail. The third was the smallest of the group, with brown hair done in pigtails that draped over her shoulders, one side of her bangs kept back by a strawberry-shaped hair clip.
From a cliff a short ways above them, a white-haired man in a white suit watched them, lazily smoking a slim cigarette. His expression seemed to be completely neutral, his gaze disinterested. But there was a spark in his eyes, of something more, something that said he cared.
He knew it was there. He was not one to practice self-deception. And he knew that it meant he was changing. Perhaps his good-for-nothing son had actually managed to do something right for once, if Ryuken could still care about him.
Or perhaps the smoking was finally affecting his brain.
The three shinigami laid out a blanket and sat down to eat. The brown-haired girl presented food with a pride visible even from his vantage point above them. His sharp eyes picked up on the upward curve of lips on the gentle giant, though he could not see the tiger-girl's reaction.
The sun traveled slowly across the sky as they ate, still waking up from the cold winter. Ryuken watched them eat in front of the graves of his foolish son and his two - it was so strange to say it - friends.
He could never have imagined someone bothering to clean Uryu's grave. The boy had isolated himself from human contact as soon as he was old enough to walk. He had never talked to those outside the family unless it was to answer a question addressed directly to him. The only person he'd ever taken to was his old-fashioned grandfather.
These people must have really been something. Braking through Uryu's walls, built up by that woman for so long, by any other means then battle was... difficult.
It was when she was packing up that the smallest girl's head snapped up to look straight at him. If he was at all surprised, he didn't show it.
Casually, he dropped what was remaining of his cigarette and crushed it under his foot. His jump down was more of a step, really, as if the graves had only been a foot or so away to begin with, rather than several meters down and out.
The tiger girl started when he landed gracefully next to them, and even the giant looked a bit startled. The little girl - Kurosaki Yuzu, if he remembered correctly from Isshin's nonsensical babblings - just studied him seriously, though.
"You came to the funeral," she said. "You didn't stay for long, though." Creases in between her brows showed the puzzlement that surely came from trying to place a name with his face.
"Of course not. I had no interest in chit-chat with shinigami or monsters, and it wasn't like my idiot son would know the difference from his place in the Soul Society." He ignored the recognition in her widening eyes, glancing at the leftmost grave marker.
"So, you're Ishida's old man, huh." The tiger girl - Kurosaki Karin - looked him up and down almost disapprovingly. "Well, at least you're hot."
"Karin-chan!"
Kurosaki Yuzu looked just short of mortified. It was a bit amusing, actually. The giant, Sado Yasutora, looked amused as well, one side of his mouth crooked up.
Kurosaki Karin looked totally and completely unashamed.
As with most things that he decided were unimportant, he ignored the comment, which was more of and insult than a compliment, anyway. "I'm surprised you even know his name," he said instead. One hand rested comfortably in the pocket of his dress pants. "The boy wasn't exactly the outgoing type."
The bigger Kurosaki girl frowned. "Is that the way you talk about your son?" she asked. The frown on her lips had disapproving look about it. It irritated him, to have someone judging him.
"I don't see how it's any of your business," he replied curtly.
"Well, he was my brother's friend."
"And that matters?"
Ryuken watched with slight amusement when the girl's hands bunched into tight fists. "Whatever," she snorted. "Come on, Yuzu, Chado. Time to go back." She stalked off, still obviously irritated.
The giant nodded to him and followed her loyally. Her sister, however, hung back for a moment, glancing at him and away nervously.
"Go home, girl," he said to her. "Your reiatsu will attract hollows, and I don't feel like cleaning up after you."
She looked up at him with eyes that held a quiet strength. "I think you should visit him more often," she told him. "I think... he'd like that." She looked away, to his son's grave.
A derisive snort escaped him. "He won't know the difference," he said scornfully. "He's dead, gone on to the Soul Society. I doubt he even knows where his grave is."
Stern eyes gazed steadily into his own. "I think that when someone visits your grave, when they pray for you, you can feel it. No matter where they are. If someone prays for you, you can feel it somehow. The prayer, the feelings, get to you."
He blinked. This girl was really something else. "Your theories are little more than wishful thinking." he said dismissively. "Besides, I highly doubt that my son would care if -"
"He'd care."
The interruption halted his thoughts. For the first time in a long while, he was rendered speechless.
"He would care if you never acknowledged him. No matter what they tell themselves, a child always cares about their parents."
The steely look in her eyes stopped whatever scornful response he'd been about to make. To his even greater shock, there were tiny tears forming in the corners of those eyes. They stood there for a long moment, gazes locked, an older, more powerful man scolded by a young girl with much more wisdom than anyone her age should possess.
After a moment, she broke their gaze and turned back toward her sister and their companion, who were waiting in front of an open senkaimon. "He'd care," she whispered over her shoulder, before she left him standing there, in front of his son's grave.
Ryuken was silent for a minute after, looking down at the name carved in stone without really seeing it. Uncharacteristically transparent, he shook his head to clear it and reached into his jacket for another cigarette.
As he was lighting it, a feminine voice spoke from behind him. "His sisters are as unique as he is, aren't they," she said. He turned around, unstartled, to find a woman with sea-blue hair falling in waves, a red line across her upper cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
"Nelliel," he said, by way of greeting.
"I'm actually surprised you decided to come," she said. Her head tilted to the side, she asked, "What made you do it?"
"I'm not sure," he replied. A puff of smoke left his lips. "Curiosity, perhaps." Realizing something, he asked her a question in return. "How did you know they'd be here?"
The arrancar woman smiled. "I've been watching over them, when they've come to the living world. Itchi's sisters are fascinating."
Ryuken looked at her excitement at the mention of anything to do with Isshin's hotheaded son with disinterest. "So, why did you tell me?" he asked dryly.
"Because you could do to loosen up a little," came her unashamed reply. "Really, Ryuken, you're so rigid."
The last living Quincy huffed and looked away, putting his cigarette up to his lips. His companion followed his gaze, out over the cemetery toward the setting sun, which was turning the sky a million shades of pink and orange.
"I can't help it," he told the woman who should, by all rights, be his mortal enemy. His statement wasn't meant only for her question, but for so many other things as well. "It's just... my nature."
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warmthwarmthwarmth
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Well then! So, this chapter feels kind of rough and unfinished to me, and I think it doesn't flow too well. I think I might have gone on a little too much about 'love' and stuff this chapter, and I have no idea what I was doing with the last scene, but we'll see how you guys like it.
Also, I have a tendency to get caught up in my writing and use overly sophisticated language, so if anyone is having a problem reading because of that, please let me know. I know several of my readers don't speak English as a first language.
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(By the way, a lot of these are repeats.)
1. zataku - the traditional low Japanese table, if you don't remember
2. ohayo - good morning
3. otouto - little brother
4. ne - right, often put at the end of statements (Ex: She's silly, right?)
5. tanto - knife. As to how Uryu holds it, think how Kensei holds his.
6. kuso - similar to 'damn'
7. sayonara - farewell
8. risoukyou - one's ideal place
9. itai - ow
10. hinadori - literally, baby bird, but I thought it would be a cute nickname for Masaki to call her
11. okaeri - welcome home or welcome back
12. arigatou - thank you
13. ne - in this case, at the beginning of a sentence, it's more like 'hey' (Ex: Hey, who's that guy?)
14. itoshii - darling
15. omoimono - honey
16. onna - woman
17. hai - yes (formal)
18. fundoshi - traditional Japanese underwear
19. sakura - cherry tree; blooms with pink flowers in the spring, a symbol of Japan
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Review Replies:
Selrya: Alright, I will. Byakuya will make an appearance in two chapters, so I hope you'll like it :). I agree, unrequited love is so angsty and great. Thanks!
Gemini24: Wow, I guess great minds think alike! *wink* My sister has said that if Kubo-sensei doesn't draw Ichigo with long hair again, she will go over to Japan and .. well, I don't really want to say what she'd do, but rest assured that it's something bad ^^'.As for Orihime's zanpaku-tou, it draws out a person's will to do anything, making them lose the will to fight and their energy to do anything. It also draws out their 'heart', making the things that mattered to them not really matter any more. I forgot Uryu's eyes were blue. Woops. Ichigo is definitely the reason Uryu is getting stronger. His zanpaku-tou's hidden abilities are a bit sadistic as well, and his German heritage is also a part of it. And I hope you like Ryuken in this chapter! The Japanese names, a lot of them I make up by combining words or kanji, and for the ones I don't, I go to random sites online with lists of names. Sorry I can't be more specific ^^'. I love your long reviews, thank you so much!
faerimagic: Silly XD. Okay, please keep reading! I hope you like!
La terrible La: I think Hueco Mundo definitely affected Orihime a lot. Even in the manga, you can see that she's become more confident and less worried about her enemies, which is shown with her Shiten Koushun. And I agree, Uryu is freakin' awesome ^-^.
Maverick14th: I think putting the translations right after techniques is a great idea, thanks for mentioning it. Next chapter, they're going to enter the Academy, so I hope that'll be fun ^-^.
Reina de la Noche: Another really long review! Awesome! I also though Ishida should have a long range weapon, but I didn't want it to be a bow, because that would be too obvious, and shinigami don't use bows. But spears are sort of a long range weapon, because he can throw them, so I decided on those. (Plus, I think he would look really cool with a spear ^.^) And Orihime's cheerfulness has always been hiding something darker inside her, even if the cheerfulness is real. Also, how did you guess? I don't have anything about Beijing, but there is someone watching them (revealed in the next few chapters) who is particularly interested in Karin and the former humans. Karin's zanpaku-tou is a constant-release, like her brother's - and her entire family's - and a melee-type. Ishida and Orihime both have kidou-type zanpaku-tou's. I adore Chad, too ^-^. Thank you!