HELLO. URAHARA IS A BITCH TO WRITE.
Thank you for all the reviews, though, I really did enjoy all the feedback!
The sky… It's grey, and it's raining. Not muggy…? How long has it been since this kind of wet chill touched my face?
Jeanmarie glanced around, shivering slightly as the light drizzle wet her hair. The surroundings were… Quite familiar, actually. The surroundings were a nice, dark shade of green, the crisp scent of freshly-snapped pine needles filling her nose. The ground squished under her bare feet (Bare feet? When had that happened?) and she shifted her toes, feeling the water well up. Blinking, she peered up, finding the sky covered with overreaching branches, blocking her view. The dull thought of panicking rose up in her mind, but it was quickly smothered by the odd feeling of calm the trees seemed to emanate.
Digging her heels into the ground, Jeanmarie, glanced around uncertainly, unsure of her next course of action. I can always take a walk… It's been awhile since I've been in a forest like this! The disturbingly cheerful thought bubbled forward, and with a nod towards the leaves, she started forward, beginning to pick her way through the mysterious forest. Somehow, she managed to avoid the sharper bits of rock, ducking under a branch here and there.
Stepping absentmindedly over a tiny, mirror-like stream, the girl tentatively walked forward, feeling more confident with every step. There was nobody else here, it seemed, and that made her feel a bit better about the whole ordeal. At least nobody can say I got lost in the backyard. Heaving a sigh, she pushed her way through a brush, reaching for a mossy rock for balance, when-
"You know, I've been waiting for you."
Almost biting off her tongue in an attempt her squeak of surprise, she whirled around in a speed that gave her whiplash, hackles already raised. "Who's there?" She snapped sharply, eyes darting from tree to tree. Sourceless and empty, the familiar feel of the forest had faded into an eery leer, the leaves once blanketing the sky so nicely turning into claws, raking downwards. "I asked who was there! Answer me!" The hairs on her neck seemed to stand on needlepoint, and Jeanmarie shrunk in on herself. Who the hell is this!?
The same voice, soft and almost childish with the intonation of someone raising their eyebrow, called from behind her back, mocking her with an answer without answers. "Don't you remember me?"
"Ahrgh!" With a strangled screech of shock, her hand lashed out behind her as she jumped away, eyes closing reflexively. Fuck. A strong grip had gotten a hold of her outstretched fist, and she swallowed sharply, slowly looking back at the stranger who had grabbed her hand.
"...Hello, Jeanmarie. It took me quite a bit of time to ferry you over here."
Orange hair and grey eyes, pale and blank and you're supposed to be dead-
(She was supposed to be dead, too.)
"Since we're all seated, let's have a talk."
Jeanmarie gripped her sweaty hands together under the table, cold beads pouring down the back of her neck as she fixated her gaze on the edge. The icy terror running through her chest wasn't helping her concentrate much, and her jaw felt like it was frozen shut. Does he really want to know? To clarify? To toy? She frantically rifled through her mind for something, anything that would help, but that inhibiting feeling of terror had already sunk its fangs into her judgement.
What did the characters in those shitty fanfictions do? What did they do?!
She didn't know. How could she, after all? They never got caught, they never told the truth, they never dealt with something like this. Sucking in a strangled breath, she wrung her hands harder as the other watched.
Assume he knows, but doesn't. Never give anything away. Play the fool, play the weak, play the ignorant. Never flat-out lie, never tell something that isn't true. Play the half-truths, the manipulator, even if it's futile, even if the opponent is much smarter than you.
(Please, god, let this work. Let me live to find a way home)
Flinching as the other started speaking, she attempted to draw herself out of her stupor and flicked her eyes upwards, barely scanning the other for a second before fixing on the table again. He looked so confident.
"...So, how was your day?"
Always casual and playing with others, never directly saying anything. Fucking Urahara Kisuke. The drip of anger helped fuel her response, and an "It was fine." came out. She sighed, proud that her voice didn't waver half as much as she thought it would. This man was truly a danger wrapped in a comedy show, wasn't he? At the very least, the one card she had was her knowledge of the threat he imposed. What had been his power, again…?
Something about a circle of death, right? Either way, there was a reason that he had been the one to take down that-one-very-powerful-guy, and she would never underestimate him.
She couldn't afford to.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly unlinked her hands, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. "What do you want, a-anyways?"
Jeanmarie fought back a shiver as the other man shrugged nonchalantly, unable to believe for a second that the shopkeeper wasn't lying. "Like your dad said, he wanted me to check up on you, especially since he was worried." They eyed her searchingly.
"My father has nothing to be paranoid about." She retorted sharply, still not bothering-still too scared, to be truthful-to look the other in the eye. "He can keep his nose in his own business." Some cracked-up character had no right to try and look into her problems, that was for sure.
(After all, why should they even care? They only tried because she wore this disgusting skin, one that should have rotted and died before it was even conceived.)
Urahara merely tilted his head, an almost curious gesture in the tense air of the kitchen, before jabbing at another perspective. He'd prefer not to be so crude, but it seemed that they wouldn't react to any of his pleasantries.
What a pity.
"Well, well, well..." He trailed off, pulling the brim of his striped hat over his eyes, shaking his head. "What would your mother say if she saw you?" He was granted with an immediate increase in pressure, a visible tensing of the other's frame. "She surely wouldn't want you to be so changed after her death, don't you think?"
Fucking Urahara Kisuke.
Taking a deep breath, Jeanmarie exhaled through her nose heavily, pushing down the sudden knot of ice in her stomach. "What she wants doesn't matter anymore. She's dead."
What It wanted never mattered in the first place, she thought icily, glaring daggers at her interrogator. The only thing that ever held her attention was her real mother, and she wasn't here. What the replacement wanted could kindly screw the hell off.
"Is that so? She'd have been sad to hear that. She really did care for you, no?"
Jeanmarie scoffed in an unladylike manner, rolling her eyes. "That was years ago, and she's long gone now. What do you really want?" She couldn't stand the mind games, not without shattering under the weight of the lie that was her entire life.
That, and the fear of giving something away wanted to make her curl up and hide.
(He was toying with her - How dare he?)
Urahara sighed, frowning deeply to an almost comical point. "Now, now, I just wanted to see how my favorite redhead was doing! You can't fault me for that, can you?"
Why doesn't he just talk to the grave instead? Her mind snipped, and she shook her head to get rid of the thought. "Well, if that's it, then I'm doing perfectly fine-But do you know what? I am very, very tired and sleepy. I am going to go sleep, like a normal person does at 11 PM at night." She shot back, abruptly and ungracefully standing up. Turning around in a shaky huff, she forced her feet forward in wide, gangly steps, pretending that she wasn't about to break down and run like hell was on her heels. Quite literally, so, looking at the fact that half the people here were dead.
"Why are you so angry at her for dying?"
Jeanmarie flinched to a stop.
The question was quiet, plainly asked. It wasn't accusatory in any way, but she felt a sudden urge of rage burst up in her, swamping over the fear. In a moment of recklessness, she slowly turned on her heel, glaring at the stupid striped hat. "Who told you I was angry?" came the low growl. The air around seemed to stagnate in front of her, her temper spiking as her heart clenched. "Who exactly said I was angry!? Why the hell would I be angry about her death, anyways!?" She spat, even as her judgment screamed at her to stop provoking the man.
Don't compare my mother to whatever you think you're talking about. Don't compare my mother to someone as worthless as It was. Don't ever say my faith to my family is so easily swayed. She snarled internally, fighting the urge to turn up her lips into a sneer. I don't miss it I don't miss it I don't I don't I don't.
I won't betray them.
I don't care.
What right did It have to be missed, anyways?
(What right did she have to miss her?)
"You're obviously angry about something," Urahara pointed out easily, ignoring her obvious rage, "And what else do you have to be mad about? It's really quite obvious. And as to why, I'm sure you know." Continuing calmly, he took a sip of water.
Jeanmarie glared darkly. "I am not angry about her death."
"Yes, you are."
"I am not."
"Yes, you are."
Grappling with the bitter darkness that coiled up in her throat as she fought back the urge to punch something, she ground her teeth and gritted out, "I. Am not. Angry. About her death. Now if you have nothing else to do, I am going to go to bed." She snapped.
Shut up shut up shut the hell up already you fucking-
The infuriating man merely shook his head. "You're mad. If I had to guess…" He tapped his finger on his chin dramatically, "You're angry because you feel left behind, right? And I bet you feel survivor's guilt or something. And you might even be blaming Ichigo for whatever he didn't do. You blame yourself for not being there. You miss her, but you're trying too hard to move on. You feel like Masaki abandoned you-"
"Shut up shut up shut up! God, do you never stop fucking talking!?" Jeanmarie screeched, physically shaking against the urge to go up to him and slap him. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him like a rag doll, and scream and scream and scream because even that would be better than listening to him spew lies and assumptions and everything that wasn't true. Her nails dug into her palms as her fists clenched, hands white-knuckled and seeming to almost spasm with the urge to beat something.
Preferably Urahara.
Still bristling and snarling, she snapped back through ground and gnashing teeth."I don't care about it! I don't blame her because I don't give a fuck and I'm not angry and I don't feel like I've been left behind so stop spewing all that sentimental bullshit." With another glare, she whipped back around and stormed out, wrenching the door open furiously and slamming it behind her as hard as she could. She turned to go upstairs, but paused, heading down to the front door instead and tearing outside. She blindly walked down the street, feet gaining speed by the second. Within a minute or two, she was sprinting.
Run away from them run away (Shit Jeanmarie you fucking idiot you really fucked up-Just anger like the literal most powerful person fucking ever why don't you oh yes that would be great for your goddamn survival are you mentally retarded oh my god-)
Finally skidding to a stop underneath a bridge to catch her breath, she gulped down the irritatingly muggy night air, wiping away the sweat that had beaded on her forehead.
"...Goddamnit." Jeanmarie slumped down, leaning against the graffiti-stained stone wall.
Goddamnit. Tears of frustration welled up, causing her to furiously scrub her eyes red. She sniffed, furiously blinking in order to shove the water in her eyes back down. She hated this so much. She was so helpless, so scared, so alone. Everything was trying to either kill her or make her forget about her previous life and everyone in it.
She wanted it back. She was so sick of all of this anime schtick. Wallowing in fairly justified (?) self-pity, she finally gave up with her fruitless endeavor and allowed her eyes to leak freely all over her cheeks, rubbing her nose periodically. It wasn't even completely out of sadness-The feeling of helplessness and stress, perhaps even relief from walking away from the shinigami alive-contributed. Wiping away the tears, she caught sight of her reflection on the moonlit water, grimacing at the view. Red, puffy, swollen eyes and brightened nose glared back at her, and underneath that-
"You're just a little progeny, aren't you?"
Slumping at this constant reminder once more, she allowed herself to sink deeper into her self pitying and reflect upon the mirrored image in the river.
Dark orange hair that insisted on curling, matched with drooping grey eyes. Mouth set in a deep scowl, playing on thin lips. Hesitatingly, Jeanmarie reached up to her hair tie, letting the hair that she kept up down, before turning her lips up in a mockery of a familiar grin. (Jesus christ and whatever powers that existed, the universe really liked dicking with her, didn't it?) Swiping a hand through the reflection, she wiped the wetness on her skirt and trussled her hair back up. With a sigh, she contemplated the options presented to her.
Option one. Go back to the house, apologize, continue miserable existence close to the literal hotspot of paranormal activity.
Option two. Leave. For somewhere.
Option three. Tell the people that needed to know about what could possibly happen. Potentially become locked up.
Option four. Pretend to be in hijinks with the enemy using her knowledge, end said miserable existence.
She shook her head, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to sort her thoughts. She was certainly becoming messed up if she was actually considering the fourth option, but at this point, becoming a ghost would be easier-
NO. Snarling, she drove her knuckles into her head, trying to force herself to wake up. Was she stupid? This storybook already had this whole machination of death or something into play! Ghosts weren't even real, anyways, and who knew if the reincarnation process would even kick in again! She'd never see her family again. Half the goddamn reason she decided to not take the risk of fuck it, let's jump off the nearest cliff and hope I land in a better life than this bullshit yet was precisely because of the chance that she might land even further away-Or, gods forbid, forget about them altogether. Shuddering at the thought, she sighed. Either way, option four was clearly out of the question.
Option one was her least favourite but most likely.
Option three wasn't going to happen for a chance in hell.
... She could always go to the people that didn't need to know... That would be more entertaining that sitting around and gnawing her fingers, minus the fact that the person in charge of the 'People That Didn't Need to Know' was somewhat batshit insane, a genius, and could probably kill her with a snap of his fingers. (Of course, that applied to the 'People That Needed to Know' as well...)
Jeanmarie shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and frowned. What had Aizen's goal been, anyways? Something about ruling the entire world. And something about a weird stone. Hogyoki? Hogyoko? It turned the man into some gigantic butterfly monster. It had something to do with Inoue Orihime and Chad or Sado or whatever, too. Her flower pins and his gigantic arms and all. The stone granted people power, right? She frowned further, scrunching her forehead. She was definitely forgetting something important.
A breeze blew by.
Yeah, this could definitely wait until after she actually managed to arrange housing. Option two sounds fun. Usually, she wouldn't spontaneously decide to run away like this, but...
Urahara's appearance had confirmed it. She was becoming too suspicious to remain in close proximity to anyone. (She doubted she could mentally handle this longer, too.)
"...Hey, Okiku... Yeah, it's late, I'm really sorry. Could I stay at your place for a bit? I'm under... circumstances. I'll pay rent and everything..."
Her voice faded into the wind as she negotiated her way into the night.
Ichigo, Karin, and Yuzu were worried. Extremely worried. All they heard was a yelling match and then their sister was gone. She hadn't returned in weeks, and the only note that she had even come back was her stuff mysteriously disappearing while they were at school.
Ichigo had cried then, if only briefly. Every trace of his sibling, turning to dust in an instant. Not even the scent of her usually floral shampoo remained, as if the owner had spitefully sprayed down the entire settlement with Febreeze. He cried and hated himself just a bit more, hating himself for apparently being the cause of whatever change his big sister had overtaken. If only he hadn't gone and killed his mom...
If only he had been a bit stronger.
Yuzu wailed, almost refusing to come out of Nori's room for an entire week. As the practical youngest and somewhat self-proclaimed closest to their long-estranged oldest sibling, she buried herself in the other's bed, as if that could desperately bring back some minuscule trace that the other had existed. She found three hair scrunchies, a hair clip, and an array of mirror shards that had been smashed years prior for her efforts. Nobody said anything when she changed her old hair accessory and suddenly acquired an odd looking bracelet.
Where are you? Please come back.
Karin was admittedly least affected by this sudden development, and although she didn't show her anxiety quite as much as her twin, the number of nights where she snuck into Ichigo's bed along with Yuzu took a drastic increase. She didn't want to admit it, but she was partly relieved that the other had left. Their oldest sibling had always scared her somewhat, with dramatic mood swings and an empty quality that she never really wanted to contemplate for long periods of time. She was almost angry at the sudden departure, growing sullen.
At least say goodbye. Tell us where you went! You suck...
Isshin knew, or at least had a general idea where she was.
He never tried to bring her back. The last time he had caught a glimpse of her was in a cafe, chatting calmly, happily, with a group of friends. Hurriedly swinging the rest of the children away, he threw one last glance behind his shoulder and allowed one last pang in his heart.
She was happier without them.
That was the last they ever saw of each other.
...
She wished. At least she had a few years of peace.
Exams are terrible, I say. Anyways, yes, she's actually gaining some sort of timeskip. Not. We're still gonna be trailing her for a bit. Fear not, for those who dislike an abundance of OCs, though! It's only snippets. But yeah, she's doing something. Kind of. ON AN UNRELATED NOTE, WHO REMEMBERS THE HOGYOKU'S TRUE POWER? OUO GUESS WHO MIGHT WANT THAT SAID POWER
That's something to think abouttttt
Please Review! Betas would still be much appreciated!
