(Day 5)
Getsu had trouble taking his eyes off his wielder. Every time he blinked, his mind would reset and it would be as if he saw it for the first time. His brain just couldn't wrap around the fact his wielder-the strongest soul to have ever existed-had been reduced to a helpless child.
Meanwhile, Ichigo was oblivious to the mental torture his current state was inflicting on his spirit. His attention was on the paper before him, which he had already decorated with lines of different colours. Tapping the bud of the purple pencil to his chin, Ichigo pondered what else he should add to his drawing.
The art supplies had been a welcoming surprise to both Ichigo and Getsu. After having eaten his breakfast, Ichigo had wanted to play. Unfortunately, Getsu wasn't in the mood to entertain him, leaving him a victim to boredom. Or, he would have been, if Tensa hadn't revealed the cream-coloured messenger bag he had in his possession.
The bag had been filled with everything a person could need for drawing. Pencils, markers and pens of every colour under the rainbow. Erasers, rulers, sharpeners, and even a brand new sketchbook. Each drawing tool was placed in its own pencil case, keeping everything organised despite the amount of stuff the bag contained.
How Tensa had gotten possession of such a bag, Getsu didn't have to ask. The identity of the original owner was easily uncovered with a simple glance at the pouch that contained the pencils. A faded light blue with a familiar bunny sown on the side.
'How did Snow Queen take it?'
Tensa didn't look up from his book as he replied, 'I was not present when she first visited'.
'But ya have spoken with her'.
'That I have'. Finishing the page, Tensa lowered the book to his lap. His fingers spread across the page, keeping it open while he turned his attention to his other half. 'She asked about you'.
Getsu brows knitted together, 'She did?'
'She was concerned about your wellbeing', Tensa told with a nod. 'When she came down here yesterday, she was happy to see you were doing better'.
Wrecking his brain for answers, Getsu nursed his forehead in the hope it would help uncover what he needed. 'She... came here?'
'You do not remember?'
'Bits and pieces. Nothing concrete'. He pinched the bridge of his nose, 'Tis a fucking mess'.
Tensa's spiritual pressure brushed against him and Getsu nudged it with his own. Permission granted, the pressure wrapped around his shoulders like a heavy blanket; grounding Getsu with the hints of concern and sympathy present in the signature.
'I'm fine. Just... need time', Getsu waved off.
'What you need is rest'.
'We all do'.
Before they could get into an argument, their attention was caught by a muffled sound. Getsu looked aside, eyes down to see Ichigo covering up a yawn.
'Tired?'
Ichigo nodded, 'Kinda'.
'Then go to sleep'.
The regressed soul shook his head, 'Don't wanna'.
'Why not?'
'I wanna finish my drawing'.
Getsu looked over Ichigo's shoulder, squinting at the lines on the paper.
'What's it supposed to be?'
Ichigo shrugged, 'I dunno'.
An eyebrow twitched at the response, 'How can you finish it when you don't even know what it is?'
'I am finished when I know what it is', Ichigo stated slowly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and he was explaining it to a child.
Getsu just stared at his wielder, who was waiting for understanding to cross the spirit's face. It was... irksome, to put it nicely and the look Ichigo was giving him-like it should have been obvious-was not helping. It had been a while since Getsu last felt the need to strangle his wielder. It was almost nostalgic.
Before he could test how much stress Ichigo could handle in this form, another sound distracted him. A heavy creak of metal, followed by light shuffling of waraji on wood.
Ichigo's eyes widened as he was absconded from the ground. Yanked up by the obi of his yakuta and brought flush against a warm chest. By the time the startled yelp left his throat, he had been transported to the back of the cell.
He blinked, mind reeling and slow to catch up. His hands shook as he raised them, pressing his palms against the mass of black his face was gently pressed into. Ichigo curled his fingers, catching the fabric of Getsu's vest in his fists and shook them.
'I was still busy...' he murmured in complaint. Face twisting in a scowl when Getsu responded by petting the back of his head. 'Getsu~'
Tensa pulled his lips to one side at the display. While expected, Getsu's reaction was troublesome. The Hollow Zanpakutō tended to become rather short-sighted and simple minded whenever he got like this. Which was less than ideal when they were in a situation that required a long-game mindset.
Making a mental note to keep a close eye on his counterpart's behaviour, Tensa discreetly checked if his hood was still in place and closed the book on his lap. He wouldn't be able to continue reading until their visitor had left, anyway.
As he put the book aside, their visitor-or rather, visitors-arrived downstairs.
'Captain, lieutenant', Tensa said in greeted. 'I thought the next check-up would be at noon?'
'That's correct', Isane said. 'However, we are here for a different reason'. Her eyes drifted towards the cell. Grey flicking about until they settled on the shadow-shaded, white being the bars kept contained. 'Since... he isn't hollowfied anymore, I believe it is safe enough to allow you all back upstairs'.
At her words, Hanatarō was prompted into action. He retrieved a ring of keys from his bag and headed to the cell door. Sliding a key into the lock, Hanatarō opened the door.
'Goodm-m-morning, Getsu-san', Hanatarō greeted with a timid smile. 'You can come out n-now'.
Getsu didn't spare the lieutenant much thought. He knew the mouse. Knew he was no danger and could be trusted. No, Getsu's attention was on Isane, still.
'Can't', Getsu said, never taking his eyes of the captain. 'Need that stuff'.
Hanatarō cocked his head, not understand what the spirit was referring to.
'He means the drawing supplies', Tensa's voice provided from behind.
Hanatarō looked at the ground and saw the cloak, bag and various articles spread across it. Kneeling down, Hanatarō began to gather the supplies and put them back into the bag.
'Oh, you do not have to–'
'It's no trouble', Hanatarō assured, as he put the pencils in open the pencil case. 'I don't m-mind'.
'Ah! Be careful with that!'
Everyone looked at Getsu, or rather, who he held in his arms. Ichigo had arched his head so he could look at the door, one arm outstretched and grasping at air.
Hanatarō followed Ichigo's gaze to the floor. He picked up the paper, 'You mean t-this?'
Ichigo nodded, 'I haven't finished it yet'.
Hanatarō smiled at him, 'Of course'. He slipped the drawn on paper between the pages of the sketchbook and put it into the bag.
The lieutenant quickly finished up packing up the supplies, handing over the bag and cloak to Tensa when the hooded spirit insisted on carrying them.
'Well t-then, Getsu-san... are you c-coming?' Hanatarō asked.
Adjusting his hold on his wielder, Getsu followed the mousy lieutenant through the hallway. Tensa walked barely an arm's length behind him, his presence and pressure a constant comfort to his frayed nerves. The rear of their little escort was made up by the captain herself, her eyes boring a hole in Getsu's back.
No sounds other than their footfalls bounced against the walls. Even a quick sweep of the building with their senses revealed only a few people to be inside. Strange, for a division that was known for its constant liveliness.
They must have vacated the premise before relocating us, Tensa mused.
I dunno if I should be insulted they think me stupid enough ta try anything, or take it as a compliment they think I could take the whole Seireitei on in this state.
Take it as a compliment.
They rounded a corner and Tensa recognised the hallway as the one where the captain's office was located. Passing the door leading to the room in question, they came to a stop at the end of the corridor.
Hanataro opened the door wide, allowing the two plus cargo to enter. Getsu tightened his hold, walking in quickly. He turned around to face the door, watching Tensa and the captain enter. His counterpart stayed strategically between them, offering another barrier of defence that Getsu very much appreciated.
'Let me make this perfectly clear', Isane said, gripping the hilt of her zanpakutō for strength. 'None of you are to leave this room without my supervision. You will harm no one. You will not cause any problems for the other residents or staff'. Her eyes turned to Getsu, 'If you do, I will not hesitate to lock you back up. Do you understand?'
Getsu growled, turning his body away to shield his wielder from her.
Isane swallowed, 'A-Am I clear?'
'Crystal', Tensa interjected.
'Good'. Isane looked at her lieutenant, signing him to leave. 'Food will be brought in the morning, at noon and evening. My lieutenant or I will come at random to check up on Shiba-san'.
'Pardon, Captain?' Tensa spoke up once more. 'With lieutenant, you mean Yamada-san?'
'Yes', Isane assured. 'Now, I hope this room will make your stay more comfortable. Please, behave'.
The door closed and the tension in both spirits seeped from their pulled taut frame. Not that they considered the captain a threat strength-wise but she was in a position with a power that could spell trouble, should they slip up. And considering the woman still jumped when Getsu so much as looked at her wrong, it wouldn't take much for that to happen.
Light became sparse as Tensa lowered the blinds, 'You should lay him in bed'.
Not feeling in the mood to talk, Getsu hummed in agreement. Shifting Ichigo to one arm, he went to the bed. With a flick, the covers were thrown open, the scent of fresh linnen drifting up. With outmost care, Getsu lowered his wielder on the mattress. Despite his efforts, Ichigo turned restless as he was separated from Getsu's chest. His face consorted into a frown, the small hands fisting the spirit's shirt tightly in protest.
Pale lips pulled to one side, teeth peeking out. Gently, he pried the little fingers open. Each digit he unfurled causing Ichigo more distress.
'Tch, come on. I ain't leaving you', he murmured.
If Ichigo had heard him, it was clear the boy didn't care. His protests became audible, soft whimpers falling from his lips as he tugged weakly at the shirt.
'Ichigo...'
A thin shimmering line beneath Ichigo's lashes stole his voice. Tears rolled down flushed cheeks as eyelids parted, revealing blurry brown irises. Ichigo tightened his grip, pulling at it. Strained noises tumbled from his trembling bottom lip. The sleep that still pulled at his conscious made it impossible for the child to form words.
'What'cha ya crying for?' Getsu asked. 'You didn't hurt yourself in your dream, did you?'
His words didn't seem to register. Ichigo kept on tugging, just as the tears continued to fall. Getsu sighed and tried again to free himself. This only caused Ichigo more distress.
'No!'
Getsu blinked, his attempts to unfurl the fingers from his person abandoned. Ichigo took advantage of the spirit's shock. With surprising strength, he pulled himself up. Getsu froze as to small arms wrapped around his neck.
'P-please... d-don't go'.
The desperation in which those words were cried hurt Getsu more than the torture Aizen had put him through. There was something about seeing Ichigo like this, inconsolable and terrified to lose another he holds dear, that was like an ice dagger to his core.
This is my fault, Getsu realised. If I had only be a bit more level-headed, I wouldn't have hollowfied. Because I passed out, he had to suffer through that loss again. I–
A hand on his back smoothed out his chaotic spiritual energy, interrupting the track on which his train of thoughts was going down on.
Move forward, Tensa reminded. Move forward and don't look back.
Getsu scoffed out loud before replying mentally, To be reminded of my own release phrase by a Quincy.
A rare smirk slipped on Tensa's face and Getsu shot him a glare. Don't say it.
I have no idea what you are referring to, Tensa replied with a faux-innocence that could only work in his bankai. But Ichigo did say–
Getsu kicked in Tensa's direction. He missed-the other was able to side-step it with ease-but it did succeed in cutting off the sentence, which had been Getsu's main objective.
Why don't you rest as well? Tensa proposed. I will stay awake.
I won't sleep. Not until he is better.
At least lie down. I am sure he would like that.
Getsu looked back at the child hanging from his neck. Ichigo's grip was beginning to slip, which only upset him more. The muffled hiccups were evolving to sobs, morphing his words into illegible pleas.
Fine.
Using his right arm to support himself against the mattress, Getsu was able to climb into the bed. 'I'm not going anywhere'.
Ichigo finally responded. Through sobs, the child managed to hum, nodding into the spirit's collarbone. Still, the waterworks refused to shut down.
Why doesn't he stop crying? Getsu drew upon the bit of second-hand experience he had thanks to Kazui. Rubbing circles on Ichigo's back while his other hand went through the orange tresses, nails lightly scratching the scalp. It seemed to work but not as well as Getsu had hoped. The crying turned to whimpering, which wasn't much better. It sounded even more pathetic.
I'm severely under qualified to deal with this, Getsu scowled. All I know is what I have seen 'im do with the little heir and... A thought struck the Zanpakutō. Maybe?
Raising his spiritual pressure, Zangetsu wrapped it tightly around him and his wielder. Weak pulls brought it closer to the weeping child, soothing his whimperings to mere sniffs. From there, Ichigo quickly drifted off.
Finally.
The blanket was folded back to cover them. Getsu looked over to see his counterpart.
You should rest as well. I'll stay, Tensa assured.
I ain't sleeping.
You need it.
So do you, Getsu shot back. I've functioned on less before.
But not under these circumstances, Tensa argued. We do not know how long it will take for Ichigo to recover. It could take days or even weeks if we are unlucky.
Just drop it, brat. I ain't changing my mind.
The way the Tensa' spiritual pressure changed told Getsu his counterpart wasn't happy. Nevertheless, Tensa respected his decision. Or rather, respected Getsu enough to not push the matter further.
Tensa backed off. His heeled boots clicking softly against the hardwood floor. The faint moonlight vanished, leaving the room too dark to navigate through. In spite of that, Getsu sensed his other half move towards the sofa and settle down there.
The sound of pages being turned made Getsu green of envy. While he had to stay still and do absolutely nothing, Tensa could sit back and enjoy a book.
The universe hated him, Getsu was sure of it.
Would you like to listen, Tensa asked.
The fact he was peeved at the other escaped his mind at the prospect of entertainment. What book?
Hamlet, by Shakespeare.
Yep, definitely hated him.
Don't you have any other books?
No.
Dammit. Getsu weighed his options. He either listened to Tensa read from a book he disliked or he had to pass the time in silence.
Do as you want.
Tensa smiled as he turned the pages back to the first chapter and began to read.
#
TO BE CONTINUED
BLEACH – Tite Kubo
