Chapter 2: Remembrance
*Ironically the weekend I wrote this chapter my cousin died. Such a great way to start off the new year, right?
ScatterBRAIN-95, it is so good to hear from you again. ^.^
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, just the OCs. Please review.*
The funeral was eerily similar to his father's, not that Ryuken should be surprised. How many different ways can one remember the dead? His mother's portrait sat on the altar surrounded by vibrant, colorful flowers. She always did like spring and seeing flowers bloom, how horribly ironic that she dies in the middle of winter.
A heart attack if the coroner is to be believed. It made sense since she was half way through her seventies. A normal way to die. At least she wasn't torn apart by Hollows like her husband. Ryuken took a steady breath as he pushed away that bloody memory. As her son and closest living relative he sat in the front row with his daughter and son beside him.
Naoko sat dressed in black, still and unresponsive as a statue. Her eyes held a lifeless and haunted look that actually worried him. The child barley moved unless prompted and hadn't spoken a word since his mother was found dead. Uryu fared slightly better, at least he was responsive and aware. He sat straight backed with his head slightly bowed causing his bangs to obscure his face.
From the corner of his eye Ryuken could see Sakura in the row behind him wearing a gigai. She insisted on physically being here instead of in her spirit form. She wore a solid black kimono and all of her hair was pinned underneath a small black hat with a short veil that covered half her face. Her shoulders hitched with suppressed sobs and a handkerchief in hand. Mihana sat beside her also dressed in a kimono and hand tightly holding Sakura's. Her face and eyes were touched with pink and her body slumped with the exhaustion of grief.
Across from them, he saw Kurosaki and his children. Both father and son wore dark suits and solemn expressions. Karin had her arm wrapped around Yuzu who was quietly sniffling. Members of the Urahara Shop sat behind them all looking a mix of sad, resigned, and drained. Yoruichi was surprisingly in human form and respectably clothed while Urahara wasn't wearing his tacky hat.
The rest of the mourners were people Ryuken didn't know well or at all, but clearly knew his mother. The priest chanted a sutra in a dull monotone. There had been no specifications for what kind of service she wanted. Ryuken vaguely recalled how her mother had been Christian, though not particularly devout and Setsuna had never shown inclinations to such faith. Therefore, he opted for a traditional Buddhist style funeral. The priest droned on, the incense and flowers were chocking, and Ryuken just wanted all this to be done.
Gathering at one's home after a funeral was not normally done, or at least Uryu thought so. The only funeral he ever remember attending was his grandfather's. A dull ache tore at his heart once those memories surfaced if only briefly. But that is what ended up happening, after the service mostly everyone came to his grandmother's home. Tsukabishi and Yuzu Kurosaki were busy fixing up light meals for everyone while Dr. Kuroki handed out drinks.
The adults were in the dining room, sitting and talking in low voices. His parents sat together with their hands loosely intertwined and looking worn out, his mother more so than his father, though Ryuken had always been good about hiding how he felt.
Uryu stood near his friends seated on the couch, close enough to talk, but still some distance between them. Orihime was chatting about something, though he was only paying partial attention. His focus was frayed and fuzzy, unable to stay on one thing without concentrated effort.
"You doing okay?"
The Quincy chided himself for starting at Ichigo's voice and at not having sensed his approach. "I'm doing fine."
Ichigo was unconvinced and said dryly, "Sure you are."
Uryu sighed and tried to temper his irritation. "I'm managing well enough, it's Naoko though that I'm worried about."
"Yeah, she didn't look good during the funeral, has she been like that since…"
The Quincy felt himself curl in just slightly, "Yes, especially since she was the one… found her."
Ichigo grimaced, "I'm sorry. Look, I know there is nothing I can say that will make any of this easier, but if you want some advice, one brother to another just let Naoko grieve. I know it hurts like hell to see people you care about hurting and unable to do much about it, but sometimes it's all you can do. Let Naoko grieve in her own way. It's different for everyone, just be patient with her."
The Quincy mulled over the advice. Naoko could not be seen so he reached out for her reiatsu and found faint wisps out in the garden along with the hint of Yoruichi's.
"I'll take that under consideration. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on her."
As Uryu walked away Ichigo added, "And don't forget to take care of yourself too."
The garden was bare of plant life save for the trees stripped of their leaves. A thin layer of fresh snow blanketed the dry, hard ground that just seemed to add to the bareness of it all. Naoko sat motionless on a stone bench with Yoruichi in cat form curled up on her lap. The feline cracked open a golden eye and Uryu got the silent message of 'She's fine, I'm keeping an eye on her, don't worry'. He nodded, though still cast a worried look at his sibling. She had been acting nothing short of a lifeless automaton and he could only speculate what was going on in her head. Uryu retreated inside only to run into Urahara.
The shopkeeper sheepishly held up his hands, "Sorry, I just wanted to see if Yoruichi needed anything."
With that simple explanation he nodded and started to walk past him when Urahara spoke up. "If you have a moment though, I'd like to talk to you."
Uryu knew he should keep walking because whatever Urahara wanted to say couldn't be good, however curiosity and courtesy won out. He turned to the older man and waited for him to speak.
Urahara cleared his throat and moved to adjust his hat though halfway through the motion, he remembered he wasn't wearing his hat and lowered his hand. "You know I've been reinstated as the captain of the Twelfth."
And Nemu has my condolences, the Quincy teen thought dryly. He wasn't certain if Urahara was annoyingly cavalier as a captain and scientist as he was as a shopkeeper, though if he was his lieutenant had his sympathies.
"Since then I've been sorting through what my predecessor left behind things like old papers, half-finished experiments, and surveillance footage." Urahara then smiled gently at Uryu's shock, "Don't worry I deleted everything and shut them down. Your body's immune system should handle the rest if it hasn't already."
Relief cascaded over him, his shoulders relaxed, and he set his hand over his once pounding heart. "Thank you for doing that I had almost forgotten and—" Uryu paused and narrowed his eyes, "You did delete everything, right?"
"Of course I did," Urahara defended as though appalled by such an accusation. "Believe it or not I do have a sense of morals and ethics I follow and invading someone's privacy on that level certainly crosses those lines."
Uryu continued to stare the man down. He is a Soul Reaper and always having the air of being up to something, but… he never did anything less than help him and his friends. Maybe he could trust him. It was either that or live out his days in absolute paranoia.
He sighed, "Fine, was that all?"
"Not quite," A flash of unease passed over his features before resumed speaking. "Like I said I've been going through Kurotsuchi's old things and found a lot about the Quincy… like your grandfather."
Any residual relief from earlier vanished and replaced with a sickening dread. Was it too late to back out of this conversation? His grandfather's fate was, Uryu swallowed, not something he wanted to discuss ever.
Urahara's eyes softened at seeing the boy's pain. "I am so sorry for what happened to him. I… Did you ever tell…?"
"No." Uryu said sharply before taking a deep breath. "I never told Grandmother, I… didn't want to hurt her. She never asked and I never saw the point in telling her. It wouldn't change anything. I never told Naoko either," his eyes piercingly bored into his in waring, "and neither will you."
The shopkeeper knew a warning when he heard one and nodded. "But if she finds out what happened, and you knew I can guarantee she will not be happy."
"I'll take that risk."
"Alright then, if either of you want you can go through all the artefacts and such he's collected. I don't have much use for them, so may as well give them to people who do."
Uryu could only imagine what that monster had "collected" from his people. It would only be fair to reclaim what originally and rightfully belonged to him and since Urahara was giving it all away…
"I'll… consider it."
Sakura stared glumly into her small saucer of sake before tossing it back. The burn it traced down her throat did little to ease the ache in her heart. Ryuken sat quietly beside her. He had always been so quiet and introspective, but his morose silence still worried her. She gently squeezed his hand and moved her thumb across his knuckles. Isshin and Mihana sat across from them, just as quiet as them.
Mihana sniffled, "I remember when we were kids we used to come here after school and study. Setsuna used to make us snacks and sometimes we'd stay for dinner."
"Yeah, I remember," Sakura nodded. "She used to pack leftovers for me to take home because my mother certainly never cooked."
"She didn't?"
The four adults looked up to see Uryu leaning against the doorway looking slightly curious at hearing that tidbit. He likely knew nothing about her side of the family and Sakura was not eager to share. They were dead and gone and buried in her past where they should remain. However, that was not fair to her son as he did not know the reasons why.
"No, she didn't. My mother was…"
"An abusive, alcoholic harpy," Ryuken supplied.
Uryu bristled at what he likely thought was an unjust accusation. "I was asking Mother, not you."
"Down boys," Isshin murmured.
"Uryu, your father's right. Arisu wasn't… really right in here," Mihana tapped the side of her head to emphasize what she meant.
The boy blinked and looked to Sakura for confirmation. She sighed and nodded, "They're right. My mother was… she was an alcoholic and had mental issues, though I don't know what exactly. She was… difficult and abusive."
Ryuken squeezed her hand in a silent show of support and comfort. Sakura would bet the memories of their young lives were playing through his head. All the times she tried to wave off or explain away bruises, cuts, and fractures, the times she went without food because her mother drank away their money, and often trying to find a reason not to go home.
"And what about your father?" Uryu asked quietly.
Sakura gave a weak bittersweet smile, "He was a spineless coward forced to marry a domineering woman. He was kind, but only in little ways and if he was sure he wouldn't be caught. I pitied him more than anything."
"Are they…?"
She shook her head, "No, they died when you were a baby and I was pregnant with Naoko. They never met you and I'm thankful for that."
Isshin cringed, "Damn, Misaki said you had a hard family life, but I didn't know it was that bad."
Mihana nodded slowly, "Yeah, times were tough back then."
"I think my mother always suspected something was wrong," Ryuken added. "It would explain why she'd frequently give me an extra bento box by 'accident'."
She smiled at the memory, "Or the sewing kit I got for my birthday one year, probably so I could patch up my clothes in case she couldn't."
"Maybe she thought you'd be a tailor like the rest of your family," Mihana added.
Uryu perked up at that and looked at his mother, "You came from a family of tailors?"
"Sort of," she gave a light shrug. "My mother barely worked a day in her life, but she was skilled with a needle and thread, not that she ever used that to help me."
She smiled at him, "Who do you think you got your sewing skills from? You got more from me than my good looks."
A week later to Uryu's amazement Naoko came downstairs one morning asking for breakfast. He blinked at her owlishly before making extra and serving it to her. She thanked him with a sleepy smile and tucked into her food like nothing was amiss. Uryu did not question this change in behavior, he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Let Naoko grieve in her own way. It's different for everyone, just be patient with her." Maybe, however unlikely, Kurosaki was right.
*Trust me Naoko is so not over her grandmother dying and her grief will come back to bite her and Uryu will be experiencing some serious angst through this too.
Arisu means noble. Please review and I'll post again Feb 14th. (anyone got any ideas for a Valentine's Day omake maybe?)*
