As usual, characters do not belong to me. Although I wish they were.
I'm glad you stumbled across this page. This is the first part to my Bleach: Childhood Memories. This is not my first time writing a fanfic, although you may see my story list rather empty. I happen to be an extremely slow when posting stories, so I thought I might as well keep them in my files and continue ranting to the computer until today.
Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and review after you have finished, even if it is a flame.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He awakes with a jolt. His brow is damp with sweat. Palms sweating, he kicks off his blanket and sprang up from his futon. He ran as fast as his little gait could carry him.
"Pitter-patter…pitter-patter…"
His footfalls are now rhythmic, never faltering. His heart slams against his ribcage, the hem of his kimono rode up and whipped against his calves. Breathing was a chore to him now, and he was driven purely by a premonition. Blood thudded in his ears, his destination seemed so far now.
"Byakuya-sama!"
He screeches to a halt, and turns around to face the source of the frantic cry. Foreboding escalated. His lungs were inflated now. The severe expression on his nanny's face could not have spelled trouble better. He suddenly felt light-headed, and his vision swam. He had to hold onto an oaken column for support.
"Byakuya-sama! Are you all right! Please don't frighten me! It was your mother just now, and now you…" Her frantic tone trailed off when she saw how distressed he looked.
"What is it? Tell me! Tell me now, Natsu!" His voice had a desperate edge to it, while navy eyes searched for his nanny's face, as though scrutinising would let him comprehend what was going on.
"Byakuya-sama…" Natsu started, and before she could finish, he bolted and headed for the backyard, where he knew something very bad was about to happen.
He stopped when he saw his father, his head bowed. And all of a sudden, tears flooded his eyes, blurring his vision. His feet dragged him beside his father, and he fell to his knees.
She still looked beautiful in her death. The pale gleam of pearl on her scales, streaked with strokes of gold and imprinted with blooms of orange. Her glazed eyes were wide open, staring at him glassily. He gathered her up in his small hands, tears flowing uncontrollably. His koi of eight years had died, and he was inconsolable. He felt his father's comforting hand on his shoulder, but still he cried.