A/N: This, sadly, is sort of squint-and-you'll-see-it IshidaxHitsugaya-ness. Sorry! This started as a drabble and ended up as an Ishida-angstfest. Spoilers for mid-Soul Society and post-SS, but actually not the late-SS. Kinda funny like that, eh? Anyway, this was for livejournal's smoking(underscore)bleach's current challenge.
Ashes to Ashes
How had he ended up here? He had no idea… it was just another place he had come to without planning to or knowing precisely why. He had ended up in Soul Society in much the same manner, although he doubted that anyone else realized that. He was Ishida Uryuu, after all, someone always assumed to have reasons for everything and an exact map for his plans. He wasn't supposed to just somehow end up somewhere – there must always be a reason.
He gripped the chilled chains tightly in his hands, lightly pushing against the sandy ground with his heels. The last time he had been to a playground had been with his grandfather. He closed his eyes, remembering, and felt a bitter nostalgic taste in his mouth. His dear, dear grandfather. His father would never have condescended to bring him to a place that could be so dear to a child.
He felt funny and lost these days. His most important connection to his grandfather was gone, evaporated in the heavy atmosphere of the Court of Pure Souls. He had known what he was giving up, too, but he thought what he was gaining was so much more. He was gaining the safety of those dear to him. And that did matter to him – it just turned out to be much harder than merely blasting away an opponent.
It hurt so much now. It was just like after he had lost his grandfather – the lack of his presence. And it was just like when he saw him torn away – he could do nothing. Troubles and enemies are always about, and this time was no different; but now, but now… he couldn't save any one now. He was the little boy forced into cover by those who cared so he wouldn't come to harm, but who came to harm anyway; didn't they know it hurt just as much to watch others come to harm? To lose them?
"Why are you here?"
He looked up at the deceptively deep voice, and saw before him the pint-sized captain of the 10th division. The boy looked odd in a school uniform, and had an unsettlingly calm facial expression. Ishida looked away, "I want to be."
A small silence passed, and then Ishida heard the clinking that signified a settling of weight on the accompanying swing. He didn't look at the boy. Why did he need to? He was a shinigami, besides – one of those who had robbed him of his grandfather in the first place, part of the same group who took away his last connection, too.
"They seem worried about you." Apparently this kid, Hitsugaya or whatever his name was, couldn't quite take a hint.
"They shouldn't be." He answered in a thick voice, refusing to look his way.
The chains on the swing rattled again, Hitsugaya apparently swinging it a little. Ishida briefly wondered if there were swings in Soul Society before remembering that he didn't care. "Well, they are." Hitsugaya said in a flat voice, betraying no sense of anything.
"I can take…" He bit off his words. I can take care of myself. That's what they should've been, but he realized how hollow (1) that was now in some ways. He couldn't completely take care of himself now, could he? He could still see those sour hollows drifting about, weaving here and there, and they could still smell the remnants of power about him, but he couldn't do anything about that. It was like he had lost a sense, like he could see the roses and feel the thorns prick his fingertips, but he couldn't smell them any more.
He suddenly felt a strange amount of anger at this boy, this mere kid, coming here and reminding him of what he had lost. He rose suddenly, abruptly pushing the swing back and allowing it to rebound off his legs, "Do you have any idea how I feel right now? My power, my connection to my grandfather is completely gone, I cannot protect those close to me any longer, I see the hollows slithering about, chasing poor lost souls, and there is nothing I can do." His voice came cold, and his words felt like ice shards in his mouth. He gritted his teeth, crunching down on the bitterness.
But the boy still fixed him with a calm stare. Ishida suddenly seized him by the shoulders and gave him a violent shake, "Don't you see it! It's all gone! The connection to the only real family I had! The ability to help everyone, and to keep them safe! There is nothing I can do but watch them suffer now! I have outlived my usefulness!"
He could feel all the air leave him suddenly, and he sank to his knees, becoming acutely aware of two pinpricks of cold on his cheeks. Hitsugaya was there to catch him before he pitched forward, and Ishida clutched at his sleeves and buried his face in the boy's shoulder, forcing his glasses off and clattering onto the ground. He let out a strained sob, and began to cry, his body shuddering with each gasping intake of air. He could feel Hitsugaya hesitantly stroking his hair, and was dimly aware of him saying something. He inhaled, and was met by a sweet, young smell that he was sure came from the boy now holding and comforting him. Even in such a state he couldn't help but see the irony in the situation.
His crying subsided a bit, and he felt Hitsugaya lower himself a bit, sitting on the ground. He was still holding Ishida close, and Ishida's nails were still digging into the starchy material of the boy's shirt. He lifted his head and turned it away, but still set it down on Hitsugaya's shoulder. Hitsugaya was still stroking his hair, but had become less conscious of doing so. Ishida let his eyes shut.
"I know how you feel."
Ishida stiffened a little at the sound of Hitsugaya's voice, but if the boy noticed this, he showed no sign of it and instead continued on.
"To be powerless to help someone you care about, having to look on while they come to harm. I blamed myself… I still blame myself, but less than I did at the time. Because if you couldn't do anything about it, then you can't blame yourself, it'll just hurt and solve nothing. You have to… realize where your fault ends and fate begins."
They lapsed into silence again. The minutes passed slowly by before Hitsugaya began to show signs of life once more, seeming to make movements towards getting up and leaving. Ishida's hands reacted before the rest of him did, tightening their grip on Hitsugaya's shirt again. His voice was strained when it finally came, and he hated what he finally said, "Please don't leave."
The hand settled once more upon the side of Ishida's head, "I won't."
(1) Haha! Look guys, a hollow pun! …sorry, I can be a loser, I know.
Final Notes: I was being a bit symbolic in this. It started kinda unconsciously and then wasn't. I kept referencing cold and ice in allusion to Hitsugaya, and my line about Ishida crunching down on bitterness was a reference to the Chinese saying about eating bitterness. We can blame all this on my taking four years of AP level English and now always seeing symbolic crap in every piece of writing I read.