Summary: She hates us. Why? Because the war arrived at her doorstep, and she paid a high price. And now Yamamoto wants me to convince her to fight for us. Dangerous, much?
This war has lasted much longer than we thought (hoped) it would. It has lasted years.
Again and again, we think that we have killed Aizen but we haven't. Layers and layers of illusions, and we are just killing copies, while the real traitor stands back and lets us tire ourselves out. Then he steps forward and kills one of us. Just one. It's never anyone important. He has had several chances to kill the Captain Commander himself. Or one of us, a Captain. But no, he takes the lowest ranking officer, which in the beginning meant a lieutenant... Perhaps he is saving us for last. Perhaps he wants us to stand alone, but we dare not. Nor do we dare take only our lieutenants, instead we take seated officers. It takes bravery for that, for someone to willingly go to their death for an unknown cause, so we hold a party in every Division. Every Captain congratulates their subordinate, saying they hope it won't be them.
It sickens me, when I have to do the same. Because it pleases them, getting approval from their Captain. At least we had the honesty to say that there is one chance in thirteen that they are going to die (but they did not say that we are protecting the higher-ups, and maybe things would be very different if they had. I tell every single sacrifice, and they often smile and say that they would happily die for me).
And we have made terrible mistakes. We involved a human. A human with power, with 'dead blood', yes, but he was still only fifteen. Young, but he had already experienced pain.
At least he wasn't a patriot. He died screaming and cursing, telling us that if we have any human left, we would feel guilt.
Because we didn't just kill him (yes, it was us, we were at fault). Oh, no. But before that story, I need to explain our failures.
It started out well, that's the irony. We had minimal casualties when Aizen left. You probably know what happened shortly after that. That's the part we talk about.
We don't tell you, however, about how we had to release our seals in the real world. We don't tell you how Kurosaki Ichigo was the one who left for Hueco Mundo, the one who held his ground and didn't resort to lies and trickery. Traps which failed, plans that didn't work. You see, Aizen knows how we think (how the Captain Commander thinks). If we had sent Captains with Ichigo, along with the two who left against orders as expected, things could have gone better. I asked to be sent, but no. Instead Unohana had to leave, so when we were bleeding, there was no one to heal us.
We did kill the Arrancar, but Aizen was never really there. Tousen and Ichimaru also disappeared. Kurosaki survived, and so did the Reapers we sent. But it was bittersweet.
We could not save Inoue.
Ichigo was wounded, badly. And Inoue helped him back, but after that she turned around and walked back into Hueco Mundo. We branded her traitor, but she was the cleverest of all of us. She saw the furthest ahead. Maybe she was stronger, too, for not fearing to consider the bleak future and the things that would have to be done.
She stayed to execute her plan to destroy what Aizen needed. She pretended to have never left her cell, and who would know? Grimmjow wouldn't say anything, nor would Ulquiorra. And everyone else was afraid of them. Those two subordinates who attacked her, they never said anything either, before you ask. So Inoue waited, being the patient one. She eventually succeeded, but at the cost of her own life. Kurosaki... well, he threw himself into the war with new fervour. He got too involved. The war started having a more permanent effect on the Living World. And Kurosaki finally realised that he would probably not leave it alive. And so, he spent more time with his family.
They found him. The war, the battles, started being dangerously close to his home.
And here, another mistake. We did not ask for help from Kurosaki Isshin. Another Captain-level could have made all the difference. In fact, the second we realised Aizen was a traitor, we should have searched for Urahara, Yoruichi, and the Vizards. The innocents, who knew about Aizen, but were not listened to all those years ago. We should have offered them absolution, a ticket back into Seretei, new Divisions under them, anything to get their help. But we did not (your pride, Yamamoto...). Maybe this would be over, because normally enlisting Vizards would not happen, so Aizen thought we would never do it. He was right, as usual.
One day, there was a battle around Kurosaki's house. We should have known that Aizen did that for a reason. He sent Ichimaru around the back while we were occupied in the air. We were too late to save most.
Isshin died protecting his daughters. Karin, of course, put herself before Yuzu. Ichimaru is cruel.
Yuzu was killed first, causing Karin to explode with reiatsu. That's when we noticed. We will most likely never know what happened to make Karin's suppressed Death God abilities awaken, or how it really happened. But they were strong enough to kill Ichimaru, right from the very beginning, before any training.
We left them alone, the remaining Kurosakis. Ichigo was just out of his teens by then. Karin was sixteen.
But then Ichigo came to us, fire in his eyes still burning. We, desperate as we were, allowed him. He went back to his sister, and trained ferociously.
The battle happened above his house once more.
Ichigo didn't take any chances, telling two of us to help him defend the house, to stop anyone entering or leaving. I was one of them. I didn't argue, if we could save innocent blood from being spilled. Better ours than hers, so much better. The other person who was charged was Byakuya. But he is not loyal to Ichigo, and Yamamoto gave him orders to intervene above if he saw fit (Yamamoto knew I would never move. I pride myself on that). Tousen almost succeeded like Ichimaru had, but Kurosaki... to save Karin (so many braveries, so bittersweet), he would do anything. We won, losing a lower rank officer, as was normal by then. But Kurosaki Karin lost the last of her family in that battle. And she never forgave us for it. She hasn't forgotten or forgiven (hates) Rukia for the beginning, hasn't forgiven (hates) us for the continuation. She will never forgive (hates, hates, hates) Aizen for all of it.
And now, I am standing in front of the old Kurosaki clinic, wondering how I am going to convince her to fight for us.
She runs it by herself. She tries to, at least, between studying to be a doctor, training in several martial arts, and looking after the house. If she can, she'll keep her patients alive long enough for the ambulances from Quincy's hospital to arrive. She usually can, and in any other situation it might be amusing, how she just washes her hands clean from the blood and goes back to doing her essays.
She gets help, but not from us. She refused an offer of protection, but we keep someone close anyway (me). The remains of the 'Living Party', Sado and Ishida, often visit her (Rukia... Well, she is near). She seems to get along with them well, from what I have observed. They sit in silence, watch television, or play a short soccer match outside where she might flash a victorious smile. But they don't go to the movies or any other activity like that, or talk much. If they do, they start talking about things they don't really want to, but they find they have to because it's all they can ever think about.
The one she talks to most is a girl, with short black hair and a nearly constant grieving expression. I managed to extract from an icy Ishida (the irony) that she is Arisawa Tatsuki. She was Inoue's best friend, and a friend of Ichigo's since childhood.
Karin doesn't really talk to anyone but her. No one else feels the same (no one else can). We are now observing Arisawa too, in case she was also affected, or if Karin is now affecting her.
I do not even want to get Karin on our side. I want her to hate us, as odd as that may sound. At first, I couldn't believe Yamamoto was being so idiotic. Then I realised, with the thought that I am so naïve, that Yamamoto is not making the same mistake again, oh no. He wants her to fight for us, like her brother did, because he does not care if she lives through it or not. If she does die, he'll just find her in Rukongai and use her again (a flaw, we have not found Ichigo yet, and it is possible he is not even there. Nobody knows much about hybrids).
Naturally, he does not expect her to ever agree, but he will push me hard to succeed anyway. And he knows I won't try too hard in the first place.
I still believe that our blood spilled would be better.
She knows I'm here, sitting on the roof of the house opposite her, where I can see through most of the windows. I only came so close during the last few days, but she has always known. She has better sensing skills than Ichigo ever did, and she is more alert, especially in light of... everything.
I'm at a strange angle above her, but I can see her. She's on Ichigo's old bed, stretched out and doing homework. Normally it would already be done, as she sits down straight after coming back. But this time she had victims of a car accident to treat.
She has headphones in, and her legs are moving from side to side.
I am going to let her finish before even trying to attempt convincing her. This is probably a waste of time for both of us, and it's best not to waste time she could be using to do more important things. I rest an elbow on my knee, and pull out my phone to pass the time.
When I next look up, Karin is sitting on her windowsill, watching me silently. I am reminded of the time I explained Hollows to Ichigo, and I feel guilty. I think sadly that usually that is an irrational emotion, but not in my case. I blink at her and glance into her room, spotting her things on her desk. Ridiculous, I was so unaware I didn't even notice the sound of her putting them down. I am getting too secure in the knowledge that Aizen is currently very far away, finding other means to conquer us all.
Karin has her head cocked to one side. She stands and retreats, staying standing with her arms loose and her face expressionless in the middle of the room. I carefully stand up and jump down, slowly walking into her room. I look down at her, and decide that sugar-coating is useless.
"He wants you to fight."
And all of a sudden, she is pure fire, filling the room. Red and black, twists and turns. Limitless energy, so much it must be drawing everything from miles around. It is nearly enough to get me on my knees.
"And why would I do that?"
It is somewhere between a low, angry hiss and a loud shout. I don't say anything for a long while, because there is nothing I can, nothing at all to justify this. I cannot turn Ichigo's death to my advantage, try to turn him into a patriot, that would be... pitiful. She knew him better than I did. I will not force her, and nothing I say will give her good reason. She does not feel for others, strangers, as Ichigo did. Not anymore.
"I don't know."
I say finally, and she doesn't seem surprised. Her dark eyes are merely thoughtful, and she nods. The loudness quietens, and she looks to the side.
I leave, knowing Yamamoto will tell me to come back tomorrow.
But for now, that is enough.
On my fourth visit, or wait, or whatever you want to call it, we didn't speak at all. She was busy and I was content to stay where I was, so we did. She didn't even acknowledge me as I left, but I didn't mind. She doesn't have to give me anything. I don't have to pretend that I'm only here on orders, because she knows that anyway. And it's comfortable like this, so I won't change it.
I am waiting patiently, sitting on the roof once more. Karin has already done her homework; there were no patients today. Instead she is cleaning.
And so, I think. And, as usual, Hinamori comes to mind. The sweet, kind girl who was my sister. I think of her often.
"You really like coming here."
It's so sarcastic you could choke on it.
She's leaning against the frame of the open window, arms crossed, not looking at me. Not because of anything like embarrassment, shame or guilt... More like she cannot be bothered to look at something as insignificant as me. She's angry. I can tell.
I did notice this time, but I didn't move anyway.
I don't like that she's angry at me. I only came here because better me than anyone else. It's stupid, getting angry at her, but it happens anyway. I leap down to crouch on the windowsill, right in front of her.
"Do not make the mistake of confusing what I want with that Yamamoto asks of me."
She looks surprised, this time. Scanning me, she just nods again in acceptance. She does that a lot.
"Do you want to come in? You're nearly there as it is."
My turn now. This is unexpected... I must not tell Yamamoto of this, he will try to use this sudden friendliness for his own ends.
She takes the only seat in the room, the desk chair, so I sit cross-legged on the bed.
"He asked you to protect me, right?"
"Yes."
We were talking, during the battle. She wasn't allowed near the windows, in case of being seen. She stood next to the back door, starting a low conversation. It was mainly her questioning me about the War, and my description. She seemed disgusted, with good reason. She did not ask anything about the current battle or why I was there, probably having worked that out. I managed to make her return to the centre of the house, where it was supposedly safer.
It was another horrendous error, this one truly my own. I was not thinking properly, normally I would have seen the benefits of having her close (I sent her away because of fear...). And now, that very same survivor is sitting in silence, seeing things in the air.
"And that other, the snob, he left."
She says wonderingly, and I send her a look, trying to say everything I can without having to say it out loud. Her face twists grotesquely, and I feel like wincing.
"Was Yamamoto behind that, by any chance?"
I nod curtly, and she retreats into seething. After a little while she shakes herself and eyes me curiously.
"Do you guys have to eat?"
It takes me by surprise. I answer cautiously.
"Not in Seretei."
"But when you're here, you do, yeah?"
I nod slowly, and she suddenly stands. She beckons with her hand and leaves the room.
As soon as I walk into the kitchen I notice. The poster of Karin's mother is smaller, as three more have been fitted onto the wall next to it. My eyes slide towards the back door, and I sigh imperceptibly.
"Don't."
It's punctuated with the sound of her placing a heavy looking pot on the stove. I open my mouth, but she seems to know I'm going to say 'How can I not?' She shakes her head.
"Just don't, it's not your fault."
As she says it I comfort myself, with a 'yes, I stayed'. Then I wonder if that's the reason she's being so friendly. Relatively.
"You like pasta?"
"Yes," I reply as I sit down.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
"No."
My mouth quirks up. With her back facing me, I can't see Karin's expression, but I have the feeling she's smiling.
"You did before."
She's curious, because she turns around to look at me properly. I take a few seconds to think. I suppose I did, even if it was to scream at Matsumoto or something (but then again, not really. I've never been like Matsumoto, and the appeal of gossiping is beyond me).
"I'd never been in a war before."
Light dawns in her eyes and she nods, now looking pitying, but still far too pensive for my liking.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
An eyebrow twitches, and she looks like she would enjoy hitting me over the head with something quite heavy. Her eyes flick a little to the side but then back again before going anywhere significant, and she's thinking of the pot behind her.
"How old are you?"
I raise my eyebrows, not entirely surprised by that one. Everyone always wants to know, but we don't ask. They do seem to find it okay with me though, like it should be expected, being as I am.
"Counting the time when I was alive?"
She shrugs. "Does it make that much difference?"
"Yes. To look this young, there are few ways. Firstly, the most common. I died of old age, and needed to be an infant or small child when I woke in Soul Society, otherwise I would have died again very soon after I got there."
"Makes sense. And the other?"
"I died very young, or was a stillborn."
She gets a look in her eyes as I say this, and she gets a face saying she would like to scuff her boots or cough. Then she turns around and carries on preparing the pasta.
"So, which one are you? And you still haven't answered my question."
She says gruffly.
"I died very young. I am the youngest Captain in the history of Seretei."
"…How old is Seretei?"
"It was founded by Yamamoto, around two thousand years ago."
"Don't tell me he's Jesus."
She snorts before laughing a little, and I shrug, not really caring, but thinking it's improbable, seeing as Yamamoto's a stiff old bastard. Not quite what Jesus was painted to be.
"Where do you go when you die in Soul Society?"
"No one knows for sure. Maybe to another place like Soul Society, maybe that's the end of the line. But it's widely believed that we are reincarnated back onto Earth."
After this there's a long silence. She turns and leans her side against the counter but doesn't face me.
"So could you actually still be considered alive?"
"Yes. I have died, but I am not dead."
"Good for you."
A vein twitches at the sarcasm. A ghost of a smirk lifts up a corner of her mouth as she places my plate in front of me and sits down. I notice her portion is much smaller than mine, and that she does not seem very keen on starting. When she eventually does, her eyes gain an edge as she starts thinking.
"And life could be just one big endless shitty cycle. How lovely."
I only nod and carry on eating. Food in the real world is a poor substitute for the reiatsu particles in Seretei. We can go without if we need to, but that makes us dangerously weak. Most Captains don't come to the real world, and if they do, it is never for long. I need well over two times the amount of sustenance as a normal human, and I have not eaten for three days. I know that I could have lasted another two and still been able to fight, but any more than that and I would probably lose against anything stronger than an Adjuchas.
"Some think that there is another Society above us."
"What? Above you?"
"The Seven Rings of Hell?" She nods, and light dawns before I finish. "Some think that Soul Society is the First Ring of Heaven. And pessimists believe that it is hell, just well disguised."
"Hmm. And in the Seventh Ring?"
"Angels."
"And God?"
"Supposedly."
Even though she still has a deadpan face, her voice is curious.
"You don't believe in God."
"No," and I look down, away from her, "I don't. If a singular entity like God exists he's not a generous person, is he?"
"No... Definitely not."
I glance up at her sigh, but she's not looking at me anymore. She's stopped eating and is gazing at the distance, head resting on her palm. I finish my meal and leave quietly, letting Kurosaki have some privacy, a thing a person grieving should always have. She noticed, but didn't acknowledge me. I am glad. Things like this always make me uncomfortable.
I don't think she will ever ask about something like that again. I don't think she wants to know.
She surprises me again, on my eleventh or so visit.
"You never answered my question."
"Am I legally obliged to?"
"No," she grunts, looking annoyed and sending me a glare.
"Nor do I feel morally obliged to, so I won't."
She doesn't say anything. She's looking at me hotly. This does nothing whatsoever and I pretend to be unaware of it.
"Please?"
She asks. I stare at her and wonder how long it's been since she last said that. A long time, I judge from the way her eyes are suddenly all over the place and the way her fists are clenched.
I look back down at my plate. "I don't know why you really want to know," I say calmly, and leave a space of time just long enough for her to answer, but she stays silent. "But if it's so necessary... I am, including the four years I was alive, seventy-two."
"Four years?" She asks after a long silence that I don't know how to describe, but this time her voice is a little hoarse. "Why did you have to die?"
Why did I have to die? Not the classics 'what did you die from' or 'was it a disease', but why did I have to die, as if it's some great injustice. Something unfair, as if it affects her much. As if she cares.
But she misspoke, it's obvious from the way she hurriedly corrects herself.
"I mean, how did you die?"
"Car accident," I reply, and she doesn't move or say anything to show that she's heard me.
"No." She states simply after some time. I place my chopsticks on the bowl and the bowl on the table. I just look at her with one eyebrow raised and the other lowered, finishing my last bite before speaking. For some reason she finds this funny.
And she starts laughing, really laughing. She laughs with her mouth open, tilted upwards, and her eyes nearly closed. Her eyes and face light up. She looks back at me and laughs, laughs even more when my face arranges itself into something bemused. She likes laughing, likes the embodiment of happiness, and I can tell that when it finally dies down she wishes it had carried on longer. She hasn't laughed for a long time. With one last sighing chuckle, she starts talking again, not even out of breath and nothing pointing toward what happened except the lifted corners of her mouth.
"No, you didn't."
"I didn't what?"
I say, and wish I hadn't because the cliché made it so obvious that I'm uncomfortable and trying to avoid answering (or even acknowledging) this next question.
"You didn't die from a car accident."
"And how do you know?"
"I don't know when cars were invented, but it was recently and I hardly think that seventy years ago there would have been enough of them for it to happen, and they wouldn't have been fast enough to kill you, regardless of whether you were inside or outside. The only way a car would have been involved was if you were a passenger and got driven over a cliff or into the sea."
I frown at her, I don't want to go here.
"Fine, I didn't," I say slowly, and she nods. "If you must know, I was beaten to death by my drunk of a father."
Her face freezes. Horror.
It doesn't seem right from me to stay here while she's looking at me like that, all horrified and pitying, an thinking and analysing every single thing I've said looking for clues or some effect this has had on me, so I get up. She doesn't move apart from lowering her head in apology when I pass her to leave through the window.
Visit seventeen.
"You remember."
She says it with such hesitance, and she's rubbing her arms with her hands so nervously because she's afraid of screwing things up again, that it's a question.
"Yes. Any more twenty questions?"
"No... I'm sorry." And she looks down, away from me. I shrug.
"Apology accepted."
It's not often you get an apology like that, least of all from her, and especially not to me.
On my nineteenth visit, she gave me a kiss on the cheek as I was leaving. I was surprised and it showed.
"What was that for?"
I ask, going for the calm effect but not sure I achieve it. It doesn't matter anyway, I think that she's too flustered to try to concentrate and take in minor details like that.
"A thank-you," she says. And she lets herself blush, if only a little, if only to see what I do and what happens. The red tint to her cheeks makes her so feminine for a second I forget what she's like and all I can see is something beautiful. It's not more beautiful, just different. A sweet and innocent beautiful, like Hinamori or Yuzu was, rather than the hard and harsh Karin is.
I put my hands on her cheeks, and she gets a look in her eyes that says she's forgotten what like and love are or how to feel them. Fear. I let some breath escape and kiss her on her forehead. When I pull back, her eyes are closed and her face is peaceful. That is not a bad reaction, so as I remove my hands I let my thumbs brush her warm skin.
After I've left, I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she knows that a blushing Karin isn't something special to me at all.
Because her beautiful is better and that is what I see whenever I look at her. That is what I have always seen.
