This fiction contains offensive material. Please do not read without an open mind.
THE DEEDS OF SAINTS
final chap: non omnia moriar (not all of me will die)
I'm in Ichigo's doorway, soaked and dripping. The house is empty. Silent. Cold. Well, so much for that. I hear a thump upstairs. I enter and shut the door behind me. I yell his name and it echoes around the house. Anyone? Silence. Huh.
Something feels off and actually, something is moving around upstairs. A sick feeling settles in my stomach. Or maybe it's indigestion; or dire hunger, but either way it's disturbing. I call out his name again.
I can hear laughter, not a child's but a man's. I call out for him again. I tell him I'm coming up the stairs; but really I want to run out the door. I see him in the hallway. His skinny figure is doubled over and clawing at his face. It's then that I know something is wrong. It'd be hard not to know. I mean, come on, look at him.
His spine pops a bit as his neck twists to my direction. His shoulder blades are trembling, shaking with laughter. He hisses at me- at me. Who hisses?
"Dude," I say. "You're fucking creeping me out." His body convulses. "Look, if you keep this up, I'm just gonna leave." The bones in his fingers twitch and he faces me. That's not Ichigo, but it is. I feel my mouth frown tightly.
His eyes look as if they've been spooned out, just like dark holes with two sunny irises. "Ah, Fuck," I hear myself say. He staggers toward me like a zombie. "Shit!" All I can do is curse.
Ichigo's got this skeleton mask hovering on his skin, a hollow's mask. I should have stayed under the fire escape. I should have slept with the garbage. Fuck chasing after happy endings. Everything is fucking out to get you, even happy endings.
I turn to go back down the stairs, just walk out calmly. Let Soul Society deal with this. I'm bound to a gigai with only a fraction left of my spiritual power. I couldn't even take down an ordinary hollow. Never mind this circus shit. I'm a recovering psychopath. I need to get back to the hospital and take my pills.
"Heyyy Red," the voice sings out to me. It's Ichigo's, but not. "You're IIIchigo's buddyyy, eh?"
I look at the ceiling. "No," I say. He roars out laughing, gripping his face. His eye peeks out between his fingers.
"III've been waittting so long to commme out," he shrills. "Won't yyyou play with me?"
"Another time, mayhap?" I say. I'm in serious shit- serious, serious shit. He lunges at me. All I can do is step out of the stairway so I'm not thrown down. He catches me. His hands grip onto my shoulders.
"Reeed," he says.
"Huh, sorry but, who're you again?" I wince against his hold.
"Who knows," he laughs.
I get desperate. "Ichigo! Ichigo! Come on! Snap out of it!" I'm practically begging, but I can't help it. This is fucked. I want to get out, but I can't. He laughs. He has this hunger in his eyes. I'm going to die… again.
"IIIchigo! IIIchigo!" he sings. "Well if you want me to be Ichigo, III can playyy along!" He grabs a fist full of my shirt and tears it from my chest. I bump up against the wall. He grabs my throat and kisses me.
I put my palms onto his chest and forehead and try to push him off. This is so fucked. I feel his teeth clamp around my bottom lip, and a coppery taste fills my mouth. He pulls away laughing as blood drips down my chin. I tell him to go fuck himself and he laughs harder.
His hand wraps around my nape and he throws me to the floor. Before I can get up he stabs me in the shoulder. I can't even imagine with what. I hear myself screaming. I'm writhing on the ground, trying clutch at my bleeding back. "Calmmm down, Red," he says. I feel a slicing in my side, my skin rips apart and more of my blood spills onto the carpet. I'm screaming, yelling, cussing. I don't even know what I'm shouting. I see everything in a dark haze as pain washes over me. Everything feels so much more acute in a gigai.
Then he's on top of me. His stomach pressed against my back. I feel him licking me, his hot tongue dragging across my neck. He pins my bleeding body down. He feels heavy. I can't get him off me, but I keep trying.
"Fuck you! Fuck! Get off me! Fuck you! You fucking rapist!" I'm screaming, hands clenching. I'm completely powerless. He grabs onto my hair and lifts my cheek from the floor.
"I'm going to skewer yyyou straight through," he whispers. I panic. I'm thrashing around, screaming. I ignore the pain and the blood. I want to run. I yell out Ichigo's name. I just keep yelling it as if it would stop him.
I feel his fingers squirming in my wounds. He keeps licking me, biting me and I just want to die.
"RRRed," he sings.
"Fuck you."
He brings his bloodied hand to my face and presses my cheek to the floor. I feel his cold hand down the arch of my back. I tell him to stop, just please stop or to kill me first. He starts to laugh and I flail underneath him wildly. Think of something! Fuck! Anything! I yell for Ichigo to stop; although I know this isn't Ichigo. I pray that someone well save me; although I know it's impossible. So I stop. I lie motionless and shut my eyes.
"RRRed?"
"Fuck you."
He laughs. "Just making sure yyyou were awakeee."
I can't speak anymore.
I'm in Australia.
Nope. I'm not. I can't even self-talk myself away.
This real. It's happening. And somewhere Soi Fon and Orihime are holding hands. Rukia is still in the Seireitei, not talking to me. Rangiku is still chasing after Captain Hitsugaya. And somewhere, the black bastard is following someone else home.
I wish I could cry, but I can't.
If only I could scream.
If only I could die.
And fuck, I just want to be saved.
Just like those waiting, unfixable patients, I want to be saved.
It's so ironic because I came here for my happy ending. I wanted him to save me from myself. To take my dark roads and turn the bad in me into good again, but I let my guard down; and life got me. He got me.
There are no happy endings, not in that fairy tale or romantic Hollywood-style sense. At the end of this road- all roads, there is only more darkness, more acrimony and unrest. That's the secret; the grand prize, the fucking wonderful Arcanum.
In this life, people can sell you happiness. It's on billboards. You call a number and order it. Simple. You don't chase down the moving ending. Oh no. Life is a hunter. It wants to kill you. It's out to get you. Your best friend- he hates you. That's the kind of world we live in.
We die to survive.
…
Sun drips off the white stucco walls of the hospital, running and pooling into the grass- the grass that's sodden with sunlight. Yes, everything is so fucking bright and happy. For real, it makes me paranoid.
Things can always get worse; that's how you know things aren't so bad. Now the sun is shining. It's warm and nice. And I'm wondering, why? What's coming next? Why's that sun so fucking bright?
"Mr. Abarai?" the questioning voice belongs to a nameless nurse, a young guy with blond hair. "Please don't sit in the flower beds. There's benches a plenty in the gardens."
"This is the only place with shade," I say. This is my puddle of shadow, my refuge against the prophetic sunshine.
"Maybe you should come inside?" he says, smiling.
"Nope," I say. Inside is where the sisterhood lurks. I'm not safe anywhere. I must remain in my darkness.
"Sir," he says. "It's not really my place, but… I overhear the doctors talking. They say you're not eating? You've lost a lot of weight."
It's only a gigai- not worth feeding.
"Sir?"
"Hey," I say. "Have you seen a big, black dog around here?"
"No… no animals are allowed on the premises sir." The guy sits down onto his knees. "You haven't left the hospital in a few days. That's rather out of character for you. You're usually always absent." He smiles a bit. "Did something happen outside?"
"Yes," I say. "Something happened."
"I thought so."
Genius. I'm just about sick of this human world.
"There's a small woman who has been asking about you," he says.
"Soi Fon?"
He laughs, "Her name is Shoalin."
"She said-"
"-I know. She tells everyone her name is Soi, but really her name is Shoalin. The doctors think she may be a compulsive liar. She's delusional too, always fantasizing about imaginary people and places."
"She's not a liar," I say. "She's a sex addict."
"Well, that's not so bad either." The young nurse grins. Can he talk about patients like that?
"You overhear the doctors, right?" I ask. He nods. "What else do they say about me?"
"Not much. You never show up to therapy, so what can they say?"
I point at the door. "Is Soi Fon still inside?"
…
I step off the elevator to the fourth floor, the windowless hallway. Something in my head clicks. In this hallway there is no sunlight shining. No bright warmth to taunt you, to tease you or tell you something horrible is going happen. And now this hallway doesn't seem as despairing as before.
I tap on the plastic screens framed within the metal doors. I want to see her. I want to see those cold, steely eyes in that little head of hers. The woman who grasps the entire world in a single glance, I want her.
I stand in front of my oracle's door and her tiny palm slaps against the screen. Her mouth is pulled slim and taut and she growls my name.
"Soi Fon!" I say with happiness and joy just foaming at my mouth. I'm practically jumping at her door yelling 'love me! Love me!' just like a lost puppy- like the black bastard. I make myself sick sometimes. Her thin brows curl together. She says nothing, only scowls. "Soi Fon, come on! Come out!"
"My curfew," she says.
"…Are you angry?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You've been ignoring me."
"I know. I'm sorry," and surprisingly, I actually am.
She sighs. "What happened?" She looks at me and knows I need specification. "Four days ago, you went out to talk to Kurosaki because I asked you to. You came back the next day and wouldn't talk to anyone." I nod. "So, what happened?"
"You're not hiding Orihime in there, are you?" I say. She shakes her head, somewhat bemused. "Alright, then." I look away from her steel eyes. "He almost killed me."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, and other things," I don't want to remember. "It wasn't Ichigo, but it was."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like he was turning into a hollow," I say. "A fucking hollow."
She nods with understanding, taking in the information with calm perfection. "I see," she says. "How'd you escape?"
"I broke with my gigai and ran like hell."
"You left your gigai without outside help?"
"Yeah."
She nods again. She knows I must have been desperate to do it. In her eyes, I can tell she knows exactly what happened. Why I was desperate. Why I ran. She knows it wasn't just from death. She says, "You're wearing a new gigai, Renji. Where'd you get it?"
Even now, she still holds all the cards and I know I can't lie to her. I say, "Urahara Shoten."
…
She walks beside me with all this mustered grace. My oracle. My sex addicted friend. Soi Fon stares straight ahead without any doubt in her mind. She seems to have this newfound peace. Only her slight frown gives away her fire.
"You're more than ready for this," I say.
"Of course. I've been waiting for over a century." Her brows rest lightly on her steely eyes. She's reading the thoughts I haven't even realized yet. "He'll be there. You're uneasy about it. I can tell."
"Yeah," I say. "He'll be there. He'll be waiting for us." Ichigo, that is.
"It's a shame we're so predicable," the corners of her mouth tighten. We walk in silence for a moment. She's giving me time to think, but I don't use it. She says, "You have to forgive him."
"Why?" I say.
"Because he'll never forgive himself," and she could say more but she doesn't. She knows I hate talking about it.
"What'll you do when we get there?" I'm genuinely curious.
"My goal is to kill my friend. If he will not comply, he is my enemy and I kill my enemies."
"Huh. So you kill your friends and your enemies?" She smiles a bit; and to think she was preaching forgiveness only a moment ago. "Well, it looks like we're both walking towards our own trauma… Maybe we should just go for lunch instead?"
She shakes her head. There's no getting out of fate, it seems, and we turn onto our destination.
…
My gut wrenches and Soi Fon grabs onto my hand. I shake her off. In a few steps I'll be able to feel Ichigo's breath. That's how close we are. I see his skinny figure leaning on the side of the shop. Beside him is Kisuke Urahara.
I feel sick. Does this mean I'm cured of my APD?
Ichigo looks up at me with these big, swollen eyes. His spine straightens. He looks at me with this hopeless look and I just hate him. I didn't notice when, but I started running. I'm right at him now; my hands are pressed against his collar. I'm yelling about how I should kill him for what he did. Did he hear me? I'm going to kill him.
He only looks at me with his puffy eyes. Soi Fon is talking to Kisuke, but I'm not listening to what they're saying. I'm too busy calling Ichigo a sick bastard. My hands are trembling. They fall from his neck and I'm quiet.
Everything inside me is wrong. I hate it. Living is the problem. It's definitely the problem. How baffling. I start to laugh and I have to cover my face with my shaking hands. This is absurd. I've just got to laugh at it because if I don't, I'd have to fear it. I'd have to think and I don't want to think. I want to just die.
And there is Soi Fon- little, little Soi Fon who is just chubby with revenge. Her beautiful lips are moving. She's speaking. Her steel eyes are fixed and icy, so calm and cool. She wants her friend. I wonder whom she is to inspire such hatred in Soi Fon. Or is it hatred? Mayhap it is just a misplaced emotion. After all, why would you ever want to kill your friend?
And then this repeats over in my head. Why would you want to kill your friend? Why would I want to kill mybest friend? Why? And the answer is, I would never. I look at Ichigo, my best friend- maybe more. For an afternoon we were lovers and I had felt attached to him. He was mine.
I grab onto his small wrist and pull him into me. I hold him and he melts against me. "There's nothing to forgive. It's not your fault. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I'm sorry. It's not your fault." I'm mumbling and mumbling.
Later will come the explanations and the thinking. Later, but now it's only this. Just him and me. I'm drawing all these lines in myself. All this bits of experience, I'm tracing them back, connecting them. Maybe I was lying to myself all along. Was I ever guiltless? Was I ever so indifferent? If I was, then I wonder how I didn't notice this one trivial detail.
Maybe it's because I didn't stop. I just kept on bustling into the bodies, always looking back, always just thinking of myself. Now I've stopped moving and I'm holding onto him. How didn't I notice this one trivial detail? How didn't I notice I loved him?
I guess it's because I saw love as a savior, which it isn't. Love won't save you from shit. This kind of love, the kind I know, is helpless in the face of cruelty. It doesn't make you float or sigh or sing. Oh, no. It doesn't transform you or anything.
This kind of love is sticky and feels like your knee deep in a tar pit. You'll sink to your doom in this kind of love and there's no being rescued. You just keep sinking deeper and deeper in love. Eventually, you'll sink up to your throat and it'll fill with tar, and you'll choke on all this shitty love. And just out of your reach, is another pit with your beloved going under just as fast.
Yeah, in this world, we're doomed to love.
…
Soi Fon didn't kill her friend.
I didn't kill Ichigo.
I checked out of the hospital and started searching for the black bastard. They both helped me, but we never found him. Of course, Ichigo was relieved.
He made a formal apology to Orihime and this pleased the sisterhood. Oh, did I forget to mention? It had a new member, a dark skinned beauty. Yoruichi Shihoin.
Soi Fon has this new shine in her steel eyes. I see it as she stands between her recovered friend and Orihime. Her tiny hands are wrapped around theirs, a circle of sisterhood.
And Ichigo and me, we're just fine. We're best friends and sometimes more. We have afternoons when we make love, and other times when we just beat the shit out of each other. Nothing is perfect.
There are no happy endings in that fairy tale or romantic Hollywood-style sense. There are only people, real and deficient. And we're all just looking for fulfillment. We try to buy it; we try to chase it; we try to make it, but we'll never succeed. You just have to sink into the tar pit.
You gotta die to survive.
Alright! That's it for 'THE DEEDS OF SAINTS'!!
Everything is nice and concluded, don'cha think?
Thanks so much for reading (and all the way to the end to!)
And because there was an inquiry pertaining to the title, I'll answer it here:
The title is implicit. Is Renji a christ-like figure? I dunno.
Does he try to shoulder all the wrong doings of mankind? Not really. But he does try to live, and just simply live.
Is Renji, as the narrative voice of the story, a figure of sainthood?
Maybe, and maybe not.
...I guess that didn't really answer the initial question ;)