Pillars of Sanctuary, a KougaxMuramasa fic
Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.
Quick note:
Warnings: light yaoi, het, battle scene (non-graphic), implied sexual themes throughout but nothing explicit. Trying to keep it T when I'm so used to M. My my my. :)
Italics denote flashbacks both in dialogue as well as pieces from other scenes. Mostly this will refer to previous events in 'Sanctuary' but the events of 'Decadence' have already been assumed to have taken place. Make sense? I hope so, hehe.
Chapter 2 of 'Decadence' will be up soon - I'm writing 'Sanctuary' first and then keeping the mature side over to 'Decadence'. I'll try to make sure the two flow into each other OK.
"I will never reject you, Kouga. Never."
Even now that he was back in his world, surrounded by so many people who idolized him, it was those words that he held onto most. They were the most sincere; he could not trust the honeyed words that poured out of these people anymore. Not when he could cook, cut, and serve their fear up to feed half of even the lowest district in Rukongai. He didn't care for that fear — why fear a man so dedicated to keeping Soul Society peaceful? He wanted to use his power to do good things in the world, yet the taunts and cold stares were beginning to bother him.
He couldn't escape the pressure that the kenseikan brought to the equation either. Not only could the world place him on a pedestal to mock and insult, he had to bear it because he was a Kuchiki. A Kuchiki man had to lock his instincts away for the good of the clan, for the good of the society, and some would argue for the good of his own self.
"Follow your instincts, Kouga..."
Is that what his true path was constructed from? Instincts?
Arms that were made by design to hold and comfort him, on a lonely pillar with the water being held at bay by the unseen...
He was walking back through Sereitei to the Kuchiki mansion, dutifully nodding his head as he heard the obligatory greetings each passerby gave almost automatically. The favored son in law of the Kuchiki house, being dusted and placed on a pedestal he despised.
Why should I be up here alone, when my greatest desire is to be among the living? Why won't they accept that?
It was a rest period, since he was finished with his duties to the division. He would go see his lovely wife and try to gain some sort of control over his thoughts. That was the only thing he could do. A nice dinner and a walk through the garden, perhaps.
He needed to get away from these clothes though. The shikausho was beginning to feel like a customized, well fitting prison. The draped fabric gave the illusion of space and freedom that he was all too aware that he did not have.
Of course, he could skip this and go back into his inner world, a land of pillars and sky blue eyes and claws and ...
No.
He wasn't ready for such a thing yet. He knew he would be speaking to Muramasa again, but he needed to think and process everything that happened.
Brownish purple yukata, that matched rings around sky blue eyes that went on forever...
Kami help me, he thought as he slipped into a side entrance of one of the smaller houses that was connected to the main house. He wanted to change his clothes and bathe on his own without coming into contact with any of the servants or anyone else that would wonder why his eyes seemed to reflect the cloudiness of mist and storm.
"Maybe you don't understand the relationship between a shinigami and their zanpaktou."
Those were his words, but they sounded harsher in his memories than when he said them. Kouga had a lot to learn about trusting him, and even more about trusting himself. There wasn't a whole lot of time to do it in, either — Muramasa was afraid they would follow through on their silent threat to separate the two.
From the safety of Kouga's inner world, he knew the look of fear and surprise on the faces of the fallen soldiers as they watched their most prized weapon turn against them with ease. The pride of a job well done protecting his master filled Muramasa with pride.
He thought about the inner conflict Kouga had towards letting him be comforted by his own zanpaktou spirit, which left him feeling a touch annoyed. What was all the power in the world if he couldn't use it to comfort, console, and guide Kouga along to his true path? His master shouldn't fear those that couldn't see such a fine asset to their cause.
There were no words for these cowardly shinigami. Perhaps they could have a stronger zanpaktou if they spent the same amount of time Kouga had in shaping and extension of his soul. Whether it was a natural thing or no, Muramasa was one hundred percent part of Kouga and he preferred it that way.
He promised himself that he would do anything to protect Kouga, even if that meant losing the long years of life that awaited a zanpaktou spirit.
Rage flared in his heart the more he thought of those shinigami and their stinging words to Kouga. His strong, beautiful master and that tired, cracking voice wondering why they would never accept him. Of course, he wished that his master could move forward and just embrace the future, a future he was all too willing to help Kouga accomplish no matter the cost.
He curled his clawed fingers back onto themselves, a calming exercise he developed early on to keep from unbalancing Kouga's inner world. He looked down and saw the water still peacefully lapping against the solid pillars and he wondered at times if he would drown. It felt that way.
No, he would keep that from happening — the loss of Kouga's good mood, that is. He thought fondly on the first time Kouga learned not only his true name, but the word that would unleash his power unto the world.
Whisper, Muramasa.
A smile touched his lips for a moment before it faded and he uncurled his hand slowly, letting the nail extend to its full length. There were times he needed to whisper. With Kouga on the battlefield, striking down his enemies. With Kouga in the inner world, holding him close and watching apple green eyes grow ripe with calmness and peace.
As he called in the blade, he realized that now was not a time he desired to whisper. As he watched the familiar portal appear in his mind, he realized that it was finally the time to do a great deal more than whisper.
For once, Muramasa would roar.
It was time instead of words that really taught Kouga everything he knew about his wife. He knew through her quiet smiles and looks of longing that she enjoyed when he dressed up, instead of being in his uniform all the time. She liked it when they dined privately so he could let his hair run free and wild without his kenseikan in the way. These were not things a noblewoman would admit out loud, but it made discovering them quite the pleasure.
So there he was, in a dark blue silk kimono, with silvery cranes decorating the sleeves and the back. It was far fancier than what he generally preferred, but he knew she would enjoy it. He could step outside himself and make someone else happy, if only for a little while. The collar of the accompanying robe was a light gray with tiny red swirls that only hinted at the more ornate swirl pattern underneath.
The obi was a simple solid gray color, matching the collar of the under robe to best advantage. He had let his hair down as well, unbraiding the red ponytail after releasing it from the kenseikan. Is a prison less of a prison if it's distinguished and sought after? Maybe for some, but not for Kouga.
He dismissed his musings and turned to walk into the back wing of the house where he knew his wife was waiting. He had sent over a messenger to alert her to his invitation for dinner, and after having lived with her for a while, he knew very well that she would want to dine privately as much as he did.
He smiled a genuine smile and fiddled with the silver guards on his wrists, the dark blue pattern reminding him of the shadow of the cranes that decorated the kimono he wore so close to his body. Elusive and all too often, far more temporary than most understood. Such was the way of things.
Agreements among the zanpaktou spirits were common. However, Muramasa doubted that they were as detailed and planned as the ones he had with the woman he was standing in front of. Long robes covered most of her body and hung in a way that made discovering her true dimensions difficult. That was not her purpose anyway, as far as Muramasa was concerned. His temper was making his normal whisper moments difficult.
Her eyes narrowed on the sight of him and she turned away slightly, her purple-silver hair hanging in loose curls around her face. Her brown eyes blazed with rage for the intrusion into her world.
The wide valleys and beautiful slopes of this inner world made Muramasa a little envious. He admired the beauty of the trees that dotted the landscape, as well as the crisp white clouds that looked so comfortable and inviting that they could be portable bedrooms for the soul itself.
He wondered if Kouga would sleep peacefully on such a thing. Ah, Kouga.
Kouga.
Sky blue eyes narrowed to thin slits as Muramasa remembered why he had floated into this inner world in the first place. The woman was one he had already conquered a while back, but had kept in his small circle for one reason: she was willing to go all out in a fight against him to rein in his temper. He couldn't serve Kouga properly if his mind wasn't clear and focused on the road ahead. So when he felt like he was sliding out of that control, he followed an invisible line they had set up to be able to enter her world anytime he needed to.
The permissions were not necessary — but after the first time he had torn into this inner world, he felt they were a kind option that should be offered. There was no real requirement to be kind — he could have found the shinigami she served and plunged into this inner world all the time. However, it suited his purposes better to give her a sliver of control here and there — she was more likely to respond to him when she felt he respected her world anyway.
He manifested a cluster of blood red wildflowers, scattering them around the valley a few moments before finding the words to speak. It was part of their code — red wildflowers meant he needed to fight at his best, that he needed to squelch all the waves of his temper with an exhausting battle that would leave him tired and weary in the best way possible. After a few sessions, he had learned this was best saved for when Kouga was definitely in a resting pattern. He could push himself past this stage if Kouga truly needed his strength, but these moments were rare by design.
There were other codes as well. Blue wildflowers meant peace and companionship, times when he needed to speak freely about whatever was on his mind. It could range from one of the zanpaktou he had under his spell attempting to rebel, or even the struggles he was having with Kouga.
The woman had a few codes of her own, he noticed. Today she was holding a cluster of purple wildflowers mixed in with an equal amount of red ones. "I see we're eye to eye on the battle part, but I'm a touch disappointed you never carry a set of these when you come here." She waved the purple clusters a few times before letting them fall freely from her fingers.
Muramasa waved one of his hands slowly across the scene before him, before curling his index finger back toward his wrist, a simple sign of understanding. "I'm surprised you want such an illusion, Rosen Saira."
She smiled in return. "It would be nice to see you display a wider range of ...what do you call it, instincts?" The voice was playful now, even though her grip on her sword was far from it. She knew as well he did the meaning of those flowers, their red tint a living testament to battle itself.
His speed was impressive, but her agility was its perfect complement even with the heavy robes she wore. She backed up, moving her hand to her blade. "No release, my whispering friend?"
He chuckled, charging again, following the steps of a dance they had performed many times along the sloping land of this valley. The trees were the tall witnesses to their battle, of Saira's robes that twirled with the wind as she lunged fiercely at the man with the long white coat and purplish-brown circles around his eyes.
She pressed him back with a burst of her spiritual pressure, treating herself a small smug smile. She knew that he wouldn't use his release because it took the fun out of it for him — his focus was the challenge of defending against all of her attacks with just his sealed blade, rather than invoking the more exotic end of his skill sets. She did not have this problem at all, willing to rely on her skills to defeat this man. The smug way he curled his fingers one by one while watching her made her resolve to always do her best to defeat him, even if it was a goal that seemed to hover so far out of reach for her most of the time.
"Adjust." The calling of her own name was unnecessary here in the land of valleys and wildflowers, but the memory of her mistress's sweet voice saying the full command soothed Saira greatly. Her blade transformed into a pair of twin steel staves, with a blunt end on one side and a sharp end on the other. It was as long as the blade that Muramasa carried, and colored a deep purple like the wildflowers that she had scattered only moments before.
She copied his disappearing trick, reappearing right behind him with one staff raised up high, and the other raised low. For once, it was a move that Muramasa didn't anticipate fully, blocking the lower staff with his foot and the other one with his blade. However, he failed to account for the power of her booted foot crashing into his middle, knocking him off his feet.
He flew backward, hitting the tall grass with a groan. His temper began to shift, the battle beginning to heat up enough to make things look very interesting.
That smug smile Saira despised so much was back on his face and he curled his free hand toward her. "Interesting. Your shikai never fails to intrigue me, Rosen Saira. Perhaps I will indulge a certain princess with answering those purple flowers ...if you can get me to yield."
He got up quickly and flicked his hand outward to let the wind catch his intention for victory better than his words ever could. The need to roar, to let swords clash and blood sing was boiling in him. If the rose princess survived, he thought to himself, he would treat her to a little decadence. Only a little — there was too much left to resolve with Kouga for him to enjoy much.
The wind picked up a handful of red and purple flowers and made them dance on air, a sign Muramasa took as being in the right place at the right time. How related they were, battle and passion.
For now, he would have battle. Passion, like pleasure, would have to wait for a later moment.
It was a running joke among his subordinates that a Kuchiki man would perform extra training duty for sneezing, a testament to the deep devotion to self-control and resolve at all times. As Kouga rested against the cushions with his wife in his arms, he was inclined to agree, if ever so slightly.
The troubles of Soul Society had always kept them rather distant — this was a marriage that was more of mutual benefits than love. He had grown to care dearly for his wife, sharing her love of poetry, literature, art and tea. He teased her playfully in these private moments about her "second love", giving the teacup and its warm contents a playful glare.
It was a rare moment that he could be playful, where he could just enjoy the moments he had rather than having to calculate and plot and be so very careful of everything around him. There were far too many jealous of the 3rd seat position and he needed to make sure that he was able to come back home in one piece.
There would be a time for seriousness — too much time. The world of the nobles seemed to call for seriousness at every turn, so it made these moments even more special.
"You are troubled?" A question from his wife that was more statement than question, considering that she didn't seem to be looking for an answer. Her soft hands played with his hair and traced the lines of his jaw, admiring the strong lines.
A simple nod on his part, a sweep of her soft fingers on hers.
"It is getting late. You should come to bed." Her fingers trailed down his chest, tapping out an invitation the noblewoman wouldn't speak out loud at all. He admired her quiet nature and shyness, even though they had been married for a little while now. He helped her to her feet, pulling her close.
The grayish-lavender colored eyes stared into his apple green ones pleasantly enough, but as they walked hand in hand back to their private bedroom suite, Kouga couldn't help but wish he was staring into endless sky blues instead.
—-
AN: Whew. I'm going to cap this off for now — there's more to it but I had to leave room to interconnect it back to 'Decadence'. As the story gets longer, you'll see the scenes segue (hopefully!) smoothly between Muramasa and Kouga. Kouga is in the outer world right now at rest, while Muramasa is wandering around the greater zanpaktou world. There's going to be a few original zanpaktou obviously, because we don't have enough knowledge of this fillerverse to have any fillernon zan's involved. My precious Kyouka Suigetsu isn't born yet. *cries*
I did my best with the description of Kouga's clothing in the real world scene — it's really hard to describe these complex kimono things. This story would have been written faster if I didn't have to hit up so many sites for them. I'm picky about plausibility for most things — I couldn't think of what to serve in a noble house, so that scene takes place after they've eaten and the servants have done their thing. If I go back and gain some muse insight with that scene, I'll add to it. I'm trying to keep each scene a little choppy, a little interconnected - we are walking down a certain road. :)
It's starting to become less quickwrite fodder and more of a planned out plot. I've actually storyboarded out part of it on my big office whiteboard. It's still so much fun to write.
Anyway - a feedback point I received is that I need to flesh out these stories a little more. So I did - this is set up for the other chapters to come.
Some of the flashbacks are from 'Decadence' - the sky blue / apple green extended concept is one of those points.
I'm trying to balance between lengthy chaps and choppy ones - the first chap was roughly ...eh, 800 words...whereas this is nearly 3,000 (aside from my lengthy author note fangirling moments). Since this is primarily yaoi for KougaxMuramasa, Kouga's wife is mainly a sympathetic character.
Saira Rosen is a zanpaktou spirit of an unnamed female shinigami - she isn't on Muramasa's level as her shinigami owner is more along the lines of a 7th seat. I'll continue to flesh that part out as we go along. I haven't decided if there will be a MuramasaxSaira lemon of sorts - considering I'm the infamous cat & mouse lemon duchess, there will be something. Given Muramasa's 'whisper' abilities, it will be something interesting :) *has a few ideas* Don't worry - Muramasa isn't done with Kouga in the slightest, but I felt it best for them to have time away from each other. You guys wanted a series so I'm trying to keep things moving. I'm going to rest a while and come back with 'Decadence', because I know you cute little pervies need your dose of lemon goodness too. I *can* make a KougaxWifey scene - which would be me practicing my het skills. Yaoi has melted my brain - I started out writing het original erotica before fanfiction consumed my brain. Seriously - I couldn't wait to get time to write fanfic.
I haven't decided if I will close the story off the whole Sealed Kouga Sandwich thing - if I do, I have another hook for it... I won't give it away. Let's just say this: remember that I'm a Team Evil fangirl. *smirks wickedly*
I am deeply honored by the number of alerts for this story - it's so experimental and outside of my comfort zone. I am a solid Team Evil fangirl all the way, and I don't know enough about this story to really get things going. I'll do my best to write something decent.
Wow. Long author's note is long - I'll try to switch it up for this story - long notes at the bottom, shorter notes at the top. By the way, I couldn't think of a proper Japanese name - so Saira Rosen will have to do. We'll see where things go.
*bows* Later darlings!