Welcoming Change

On the outskirts of district seventy-eight, there was a rocky overhang that I would often climb and quietly sit to watch the poverty-stricken city below. Being here did not bring me peace nor did it help me clear my head, and I was not here to seek refuge from the life most could not escape. It was to remind myself where I came from despite the fact that I could never forget.

Below me were the ruts that the people called home, small stone hovels that were beyond repair and unsafe for living. Walls crumbled from neglect, creating piles of rubble both in the street and dwellings while stolen rugs from neighboring districts or old blankets that went unclaimed often became makeshift doors to give the illusion of privacy. But most homes were overrun with children and adults, and they hardly offered solitude to those desperate for a few moments' peace.

Perhaps no one thought to come up here, or they were smart enough to stay away in order to avoid looking at the sea of stone gray despair. I was here daily, however, even though it provided no comfort, no escape and no hope. I will find something more than this, I would frequently think while watching the lethargic movements of passer-byers, and for a few hours, it would alleviate the pressure that hung oppressively on my shoulders and pressed against my chest. I longed for more moments free from the looming shadow of district seventy-eight.

As a child, you don't feel the heaviness that this type of life forces you to bear. Closing my eyes, my thoughts turned to the promise I had made back then. I would never leave my friends and remain here always. How fragile promises are, I reflected as I waited in silent patience for my best friend to come. Renji had also made that promise. But as an adult I knew that he had not made this choice for our friends. I'm not even sure when it occurred to me that I was the reason for Renji's sacrifice. The weight that was always there had slowly doubled, and no longer could I be the reason for holding him back.

I could feel him coming long before his soft footsteps were heard and, I stood up to brush the dirt from my yukata. His spirit energy was strong and demanded to be acknowledged in the same way Renji himself did. It made me smile to feel his presence, and the decision to go back on my word became so much easier.

"Ru-," I cut Renji off before he had a chance to finish speaking my name.

"Let's become shinigami."

There was a stunned silence behind me, and I was surprised that Renji was holding his breath. When he finally released it several moments later, I looked back over my shoulder at him. Renji had his shoulder length fiery-red hair tied up as usual. The bright hues of red reminded me of his intense passion, one that could not be squelched by the depravity of the city. It was just one of many elements that reminded me of his constant zeal.

His clothing, however, were similar to mine - worn and threadbare in some places, stained from commonplace mottle that came from living in degeneracy. It was proof that we were at the very bottom of the social ladder.

I looked out again at the decaying existence before me, knowing it would never get better. As long as we remained here, we would never find a higher quality of life in this caste system. It wasn't just for me that I purposed the idea, but it was also for the sake of Renji, who deserved so much more than to spend the rest of his life fighting for survival.

"Let's become shinigami and get out of here. We both have the potential to be more. We could be part of the Gotei 13 if we work hard. Wouldn't it be nice to live a more sophisticated way than this?" While I was hardly one to become overly emotional, my strength left me and I didn't just want to ask him to say yes, I wanted to beg him to say yes. My chest ached from a mixture of fear from losing the familiarity of a life I'd always known and the promise to lead a life that was more fulfilling. I wanted to be selfish and say, do it for me, if not yourself. But I didn't have to.

I rarely heard him speak softly or with so much feeling as he did when he said my name, "Rukia." That was one of the benefits of my bond with Renji. I knew that him simply speaking my name was the answer I had hoped for. Yes.

A surprise to me, I almost giggled at how light I felt. Inhaling deeply, it was as though I had a new set of lungs. My chest no longer felt heavy, my throat wasn't tight with anxiety. I was sure that I even stood a little taller right then. The promise of something better was an amazing feeling, I admitted to myself.

With a few steps taken, my childhood playmate now stood beside me, looking down at the life we would soon leave behind. I felt no regret because I wasn't leaving behind the most important person.

As the sun set and twilight danced on the horizon, I asked myself if this was really for Renji's sake or my own. Looking over at him, I decided that it was for us, neither person a single entity and both benefiting from the choice. I couldn't help but smile a little, and his gaze flickered to me before returning to what laid before us.

Renji closed his eyes and made the faintest sound of annoyance as he exhaled, "What the hell are you staring at?"

I jabbed him in the side before running off, forcing him to chase me while I called back, "I still haven't figured it out yet!"

I heard him take off after me and decided that for one more night, I would embrace being a carefree child. Who knew where tomorrow would lead.