Holy! Big Update! May require multiple sittings!
(Previously) Quick Summary: When Renji throws a wrench into the gruesome murders happening in the Suburbs, everyone is on edge. But what frightens the trio even more is the call that Rukia received through her "black phone". Labeling the call as a bad omen, the three now await Byakuya's impending arrival.
HOUSEHOLD GODS
14. Hush-Hush
When Renji walks into the flat, he rubs his hands together. He shuts the door and leaves a smear of blood on the handle. Scratching his head, he yells out for Ichigo. He says, "Did you perk any coffee?" And nobody answers. So he yells, "How about leftovers? Did you save any?"
But nobody is home.
He peels off his bloody shirt and sighs, heading straight into the bathroom. Before he opens the door, he hears the water running. Steam floats up from the floor. Renji says, "Ichigo?"
And someone says, "wrong."
Someone says, "Byakuya."
And a hand comes around Renji's waist. The fingers curl into his skin and the voice at his ear whispers, "troublemaker."
Renji grabs the arm and throwing it away from himself, he yells, "get away."
Byakuya says, "You know better, really Renji." He takes a step closer, and Renji backs into a wall. "Don't even start with me." Byakuya, standing too close, he says, "I had a good thing going in the suburbs. I called it divine intervention." His lips, moving against Renji's skin, are saying, "Why'd you have to go and mess that up for?"
Cold fingers, like knives, skim over Renji's stomach. Those cold touches are only a palm resting on his hip. And although his heart is heaving, and his skin shaking, he knows that Byakuya is not a God. Byakuya is just a ghost.
And the ghost is saying, "Everything you know is wrong. It's a lie." He said it every morning after Renji died. Within the week, Renji bites. He says to the ghost, 'ok, why?'
The world, says the ghost, is the combined imagination of humanity. What's real for you isn't real for me. Reality, he says, is perception.
Renji had said, "but I thought it was 'imagination'."
No, the world is imagination. Reality is how we perceive the world.
"And it's a lie?"
The ghost smiled, he said, there is only one universal truth.
"Oh, and what's that?"
There are no gods.
Here and now, Renji, with Byakuya pressing him into a wall, says, "There is no divine intervention. There is no divinity."
And here and now, Byakuya curling around Renji, says, "I perceived divinity."
Renji shouts, "You can't do that. You can't just justify yourself by saying you're right. For once," he says, "you're wrong."
Byakuya asks, "What are you, Renji?" Chills of fingers run up his stomach; it feels like scissors to Renji's skin.
And Renji answers, "dead."
"Yeah," his voice a soft whisper, he asks, "and what do you do now that you're dead, Renji?"
"Pop souls."
"And you're not a God, are you?"
"No."
"I've been in the other worlds. You know what I see?" His hand crawls down Renji's thigh. "I see people."
There is one universal truth- this is what the ghost says. He says countries are just geography and politics. It's just a territory ruled by a nation. And nation is people. People, they rule people.
There are no gods.
The steam from the floor is sticking to all the glass and metal. It's even leaving drops of moisture on the tiles, like dew in the morning. Renji's bare feet almost slide across the tiles as Byakuya maneuvers him into the shower. The air, heavy and hot with steam, leaves his skin flushed and warm. Those metal hands, still cool, fondle his hair. The clotting blood from his hands washes away under the falling water, and he says, "I'd rather you came here to kill me."
And Byakuya says, "I can't kill what is already dead; and don't forget," water streams down his face like a hundred tears, "you killed yourself." And his shiny lips pull into a tight curve.
Already on his knees, the water drumming against his scalp, Renji says, "Then being with you makes me wish I werealive."
Byakuya laughs. He says, "So is that disappointment or regret?"
"It's aspiration."
The drain of the tub has never drained well. It empties the falling water too slowly, so puddles are swarming around Byakuya's ankles and Renji's knees. Renji watches the quick droplets splatter against the water. This is what he tries to focus on. The splattering. Pretend you're walking in the rain. It's cool and muggy. It's New York City. Maybe you lost your umbrella, or even better yet, maybe you gave it to a homeless man. The fingers that are squeezing your jaw, just pretend it's rain.
Byakuya's thumb presses into Renji's cheek as a painful encouragement to open his mouth. And Renji keeps focusing on the splattering, on the rain. The pressing of something thick and round against your lips, just pretend that's rain too. Byakuya's phallus, sliding into Renji's mouth, it forces his jaw to open wider. It makes it hard to stay in New York City. Where in the rain, a beggar peers out from under a shiny umbrella at you. Yes, it's hard to stay in New York City when Byakuya's voice is saying, "come on."
Renji stares up at the showerhead, letting the drops of water hit and splatter against his eyeballs. He can taste Byakuya's dog sliding over his tongue. He can feel him pressing against his throat. And Renji has never felt more sick or more pathetic. He jerks his head away and twists away from Byakuya. It's futile. It's pointless, but he can't stomach it anymore.
Renji breathes hard against the puddles of water. His breath causes it to ripple away from his lips. Behind him, he still feels Byakuya standing. He feels him smiling. He hears him laughing and saying, "not in the mood for foreplay?"
…
By the time Ichigo returns to the flat, Renji's hair is dry and Byakuya is worlds away. The couch sinks further to the ground as Ichigo's weight is added next to Renji's. Lights from the television flicker in Renji's eyes and he says, "Sup?"
Ichigo grinds his teeth together, he asks, "How long have you been watching TV?"
"All fucking day."
"Did you make any coffee?"
"Nope."
"Supper?"
"Nope."
"Any leftovers from yesterday?"
"Nope."
Ichigo settles into the couch and drags his fingers down his face. He says, "fine." During a commercial, Ichigo starts muttering. "Fucking wanker…Good-for-nothing stuck-up bastard."
Renji bites his lip and smiles. "Good for something." And he tosses the remote on the floor.
"You can't cook; don't clean; don't have any money… actually you just suck up money…"
"Well yeah," Renji says, still staring at the screen, "I'm not you're fucking wife."
"No, but you fucking live here."
"Not like we're paying rent."
"And how long do you think that's going to hold out?" Ichigo's hand jabs the air. "Fucking neighbor's already onto us."
"Yeah, I know."
Ichigo sighs. He says, "It's because youstole his laundry."
"I told you. I thought it was mine."
"For fuck's sake! Then you should have returned it once you realized it wasn't yours."
Renji points, "But you're wearing his shirt right now."
Ichigo smiles; he says, "yeah. I thought it was fucking mine."
So Renji knocks him in the face.
In a second, Ichigo's back is bouncing against the floor. He shuts his jaw tight and rolls onto his side. Hissing, he says, "you fucking bastard," and gets onto his feet. Renji, he's wiggling his knuckles and folding them into fists.
He says, "Come on strawberry," and Ichigo goes for Renji's waist. He grabs onto the band of Renji's jeans, and shoulders him into the wall. On the impact, Renji groans and laces his hands into a tight fist. He brings it down onto Ichigo's back, and the boy hits the floor.
Renji climbs onto him, fixing Ichigo's arms above his head. He says, "You fight like a frigging pansy." And Ichigo rolls his eyes. Renji, sitting on top of Ichigo, digs his knees into the boy's ribs. "Kate Moss would do more damage."
"Ah, fuck! That hurts!" His cheek rests against the moldy carpet. His brown eyes stare hard into the dim ceiling lights, and he says, "You know what would be nice right now? A fucking blow job."
And Renji grins. He says, "oh yeah?"
"Fuck yeah."
"Hey, Ichigo," whispers Renji into the boy's ear. He feels the body tremor between his knees, and he says, "Were you always such a faggot?" And Ichigo's hands free themselves from his grip and clench around Renji's collar, driving him backward. Renji's head knocks against the floor as Ichigo rights himself. Straddling Renji, Ichigo starts undoing his pants.
He sneers and answers, "yeah, actually."
Rukia, she ends up coming home within the next ten minutes; so when she opens the door, she only gets as far as, "did you perk any," before she sees her two room mates half undressed and grappling one another. She says, "okay," and sucks on her teeth as they roll by her feet. She steps over them to get into the kitchen. She wants to say, "don't make a mess," and "I'm not going to be the one mopping after."
…
In the morning, after Ichigo's rushed off to work, Rukia wakes up to the sounds of Renji puking in the toilet. She peeks into the door and says, "Hey, you okay in there Renji?"
Renji looks up and frowns. He says, "I feel sick. I'm going to die."
"Oh," says Rukia. "Cool." She drums on her thighs. "You almost done? I gotta pee." Renji heaves another liter of what Rukia thinks looks like clam chowder. And then she sneers. She says, "That's disgusting. You're such a whore."
She says, "Lay off the pogo. I have to pee in that toilet and now there's upchucked sperm all over it."
Renji crumples up next to the toilet. Lying on the mossy tiles, he groans and says, "Sex hangover."
Rukia nods and says, "Okay. Well, I'm just going to pee in the bathtub."
…
On Ichigo's lunch break, he gets a text message from "beyond". It orders the death of one Lei Brakin, by 1 pm, to be delivered on 156 Franks Street. Due to a fax machine malfunction, Ichigo ends up being seventeen minutes late. By the time he gets there, cops are crawling around the house and taping up the fence with yellow tape. Halloween décor.
Ichigo lifts the tape and ducks under it. He makes a quick break into the house, but only makes it as far as the kitchen before a uniform stops him. The cop says, "What the fuck? Get out of here." This is a crime scene. Didn't you know?
Ichigo, giving a nervous smile, eyes the room quickly. He's looking for the dead body. Not in the kitchen. Check that off the clue card.
"Hey," says the cop. "You can't-"
Ichigo, the 'quick-thinker', he says, "What are you doing in my house? What happened?"
And the cop's face drops. He says, "You live here? Are you apart of the household? Family? Where'd you come from? I'm going to need to take down your name and-"
Oh, fuck. Um, "My family!" Ichigo makes a gesture over his head, "did something happen to my happy family?" And Ichigo starts running up the stairs. Sure, if he'd actually lived here, he'd be confused, right?
"Hey wait! You can't go up there!"
Ichigo starts poking his head in all the doors. Second door on the right was the bingo. Lying in bed, covered in white cotton sheets, is the form of a body. Small circles of red stain the white bedding into a polka dotted pattern, and all around the forever-asleep Lei Brakin, is about ten, very serious looking cops.
Ichigo hesitates for moment before raising his hands in the air and shouting, "oh! Oh no! Please, heaven's no!" And he stumbles near the bed.
The investigators scratch their heads and say, "who the hell is that?" as Ichigo falls next to the bed and starts padding the sheets with his palm.
Ichigo shouts, "My poor family." He peeks under the blankets and tries to poke at the body and about half of the cops start heading towards him.
…
The ghost of Lei Brakin says, "hey shinigami!" And Ichigo, baggy eyed, turns his head and looks at the apparition. Lei Brakin's mouth, like a drawn theatre curtain, widens slowly and collects wrinkles on either side. She says, "Want to know who shot me?"
And Ichigo says, "no." He leans against the gritty, coal coloured bars and sighs. He breaks. He says, "fine. Who was it?" And Lei Brakin lights up like a girl scout.
"My mother in law. She thought I was a moose- a moose in her bed! Pretty wild, huh?" She smiles, and you can't even distinguish lip from wrinkle. Ichigo, he just notices that Lei Brakin doesn't have any feet. She just sort of floats around like Casper. "I was just napping though. Loud snoring I guess." Is that a smile, or is her face splitting apart? Ichigo can't tell.
From across the cell, an inmate glares at him. On Ichigo's hands, there are still traces of Lei Brakin's blood. Only now it's smeared and mixed with his sweat. When he'd lifted up the white cotton sheets of the bed, and swatted around the mattress energetically in search of the body, he'd slapped her right in the chest wound. It was four rounds of bullets, shattering her ribcage and blowing her lungs all over the bed. It was like sticking your hand into a bowl oily casserole; but it was enough to separate her soul from, and also appear as a complete madman in the process.
Lei says, "I was getting kinda worried there for a moment, shinigami. I thought that I'd get buried with my body. You know, I could see and hear everything around me. It was likeX-Files."
"Oh yeah?" says Ichigo, not particularly interested. There's an echo of footsteps coming from behind him. He'd called Renji an hour ago. He'd said, "Bail please."
And Renji had answered, "Fucking Christ. Are you serious?" And after a pause and some deep breathing, "Fine, but I'm not buying lunch on Saturday. Just consider this as me treating you for lunch."
Ichigo feels a tap on his head and twists around. Pressing his cheek against the cool bar, he smiles and says, "Renji. Finally."
The sun is already gone and set by the time Renji and Ichigo are walking through the station's parking lot. In the car, Renji says, "Do up your seat belt."
And Ichigo, settling into the passengers seat asks why.
"Just do it."
So he does, although he doesn't see the point.
"Do you have any idea what kind of strings I had to pull to get them to even consider you for bail? Do you even know what you were charged with?" He starts up the car. "You really could have fucked things up to unfuckable levels."
Yeah, but he still doesn't see the point of the seatbelt. I mean, it's not like he can die again, right?
"No you can't die again, but that's not the fucking point!"
So what is the fucking point?
Renji forgets to break at a stop sign, and he says, "Did you see that stop sign?"
Yeah.
"Why would they put a stop sign there? It's just stupid."
Ichigo leans into his seat. He says, "whatever."
15. Catch! Up!
If you ask Rukia about ghosts, she'll say they're all drama. All they want to yammer about is how they died; what they would have done, or should have done, and so on. They'll tell her, "if only I'd flipped off my boss," or "why didn't I tell my dog foo-foo I loved her?"
Rukia says, "it's all crap." She loathes the drama. This is why she says she lives with men. She says men aren't as dramatic.
She doesn't say this anymore. Watching Ichigo scream at Renji, who's watching the Late Show, she really can't say it anymore. From the kitchen, she hears the whole conversation.
It's Ichigo yelling, "Fucking say something. I fucking," and he puts his palms onto the back of his head, "come out and say this shit to you and you're blank? What the fuck is that? Do you seriously not even care?" And at first, Rukia knows that Ichigo doesn't buy it. She knows that Ichigo hopes that Renji is just acting nonchalant. He screams, "Say something!"
So Renji sighs and says, "you really aren't going to let this go, are you?" and he shuts off the TV. "Well, what more should I say other than it's true?"
From the kitchen, Rukia mouths, "sorry. Try sorry," and she continues to eat a piece of vanilla cake.
Ichigo's face is crumpling up, his eyes are getting shiny and his mouth twitches in and out of a tight frown as he says, "I fucking…" and he looks away quickly, then back at Renji, "…you stupid, fucking… asshole." His brow crunches together, "I fucking wish I never…" And he just leaves the room; leaves the flat; leaves Renji.
Rukia pops her head into the room and makes a face at Renji. She says, "So who's on Lettermen?"
…
Ichigo is walking quickly down the street, quick enough to give him a chill. He would call it 'storming.' He's got this pesky felling orbiting around him, and it makes it impossible not to think about Renji. He asks himself why he didn't see it sooner, or he did, but why didn't he act sooner? Why'd he let himself care so much?
He knows that he can't blame anyone without blaming himself. Storming down the street, to keep the hurt at bay, he remembers again what happened previously. He remembers the coolness of the air as he stepped outside for his lunch break. It was just a step out the office doors…
"Ichigo," someone said. It was sudden, so Ichigo jumped a bit. He turned and met someone's cool, thin smile.
The air seems much more nippy now
Someone said, "I thought I'd catch you here. I'm sure you're working hard." Ichigo just frowned and someone kept on talking, "but I wonder what it is you're working so hard for."
He keeps storming down the street. He asks himself, why'd I get so attached?
Someone said, "I'm not fucking with your ego, but…"
Was it becoming colder? The wind chill is insane. Ichigo pulls his arms over his chest. His body moving like an automaton, he hasn't a clue where he's headed. He just moves forward, moves away.
"You shouldn't pretend you don't already know I'm fucking him," said someone. "I think you have this misconception about love. Really, I'm doing you a favor. Someone had to tell you the truth. And wouldn't you rather know it, boy?"
Suddenly the streets start to become more and more familiar.
"You're not going to wait it out are you? What chance do you think you have? We both know that that relationship was headed nowhere. Well what do you think? Is it coming together now?"
Ichigo, he's a boy in a fantasy, standing outside this building. It's so familiar, yet surreal, close and yet far away. If he takes a step forward, it'll be like a million backward. He lifts his shoe from the concrete.
"I thought this conversation would be as trying as it's becoming. Teenagers always look to others to solve their problems, even dead ones with dead problems. I wonder sometimes, is so difficult to accept grief? Well, I suppose if it is, you shouldn't have put your faith in anyone. Here's another tip for you, boy; people are all big walking disappointments in the eyes of an optimist."
He presses his shoe back onto the concrete. There's no going back. No looking back. This is done. He takes the step toward the building. He walks slowly and stops at the door, and lifting his hand, he knocks his knuckles against it. There's a familiar rustle behind it and a small woman's voice. A man comes to the door. Ichigo says, "Hey, Is Ichigo home?"
And the man at door, his hairy, stone face just drops.
Welcomed in, Ichigo sits on this old sofa. This sofa, he used to watch TV on it when he was alive. His father sits to the right of him in that old chair. Back when he was alive, Ichigo would sit in that old chair too. His father says, "I'm not sure how to put this." He's shaved since the funeral. "I'm surprised you haven't heard already."
Ichigo leans his elbows onto his knees. He says, "I was out of town for almost a year."
His father asks, "How did you meet Ichigo?"
Ichigo says, "we were on the wrestling team," he pauses, "in grade nine."
"I didn't know he was on the wrestling team."
He wasn't. Ichigo, he thinks it's such a strange feeling to lie about yourself. Lying is so natural to him now. He lies, "Oh. Well, he was. Not very good at it though."
…
Rukia and Renji, they sat on that couch until morning, until the pale streaks of dawn started reaching through the grime of the window. Rukia groans, and her voice cracks as she asks, "did Ichigo come back yet?" And Renji shakes his head.
"Kid ain't coming back."
Rukia yawns. "What makes you say that?" And she watches Renji's throat as he swallows and grins.
"Because he's smart."
She gives his knee a squeeze. A comforting move, which she saw done in a movie once. She says, "but maybe he's notthat smart."
…
You can't go home. This what Ichigo realizes as he walks out of his father's house. The sun is going down and he has no place to sleep. He can't go home. He simply just doesn't belong there anymore. His father, his sisters, they don't recognize him anymore. Ichigo Kurosaki is dead. So who is he now? Where does he belong?
Where is home?
What changes? Is it home, or is it the person? Ichigo isn't sure. He shoves his hands into his pockets and feels the cool, metal rim of the black phone. He pulls it from his pocket and runs his thumb along the screen. The last glinting rays of the sunset wash down it in streams of white. He wonders why it is that Rukia or Renji have never used the phone to call anyone. It's a phone after all. It's meant to connect people and bring them closer together. So why does this phone only bring messages of death, of separation? Is it because it's a shinigami's phone?
Ichigo asks it, "Is it really that you have no number?" And the phone just keeps glinting in the leftover sunlight. Ichigo asks, are we supposed to be alone? Is this why? As a shinigami, am I meant to be completely alone? But then he remembers, and he wonders, how could Rukia's phone have rung? How did Byakuya dial out? He sits on the curb and rests his feet on the pavement. The road is as dark as this phone, and neither of them have answers. At the end of the road, is the home that is no longer home; and in his hand, is the phone that isn't really a phone. In his mind, and in his heart, is a life that isn't really a life.
And Ichigo asks himself, "where is home?"
And nothing answers.
…
"I mean," and her voice is loud and wobbly, "what is it really that you like about him so much?" She shuts her eyes and swallows, pushing out her lips for a second. She sways back and forth as she staggers back toward the couch.
Renji says, "You're so light, but your ability to drink alcohol is astounding." He sits on the couch, and then steadies Rukia as she sits.
"I mean really, who needs him?" she asks. "Do you need him?"
Renji sighs and says, "no."
"Me neither!" Her voice gets quieter, "but you know, he really, really liked you."
"It's my accent."
"Oh fuck! It's always your accent!" She leans into his ear and mumbles, "When're you gonna get it that Brazilian accents ain't that sexy."
"Mine is that sexy."
"Hah! T'hell it is!"
"…I'm also really good in the sack."
Rukia laughs loudly, "So I've heard! And like, really, I've heard." Renji shrugs. What can a guy do? We all have our talents. "But really, Renji," she says, "you seemed attached to him. Almost… like you loved him back, you know?"
Renji tilts his head and watches that damn rattling fan on the nightstand. He says, "When everyone is expecting something from us, we can't help but try to perform something. If we can't help ourselves, then we ought to perform for someone that expects something we want to be." Renji pauses and sighs. "I liked who I was with Ichigo."
"Wow," Rukia giggles. "The model, and the boy with the camera. Why do you see everything in those terms?"
"It's just in my head."
Rukia grunts, "well Renji, not much I can tell ya, exceptthat," and she smiles, "if you're really that good in the sack… he'll have to come back. By the way," her brows squeeze together, "did I mention that my brother is coming into town?" She's too drunk to notice Renji blanch. "Oh, yeah," she says. "Sometime this week. He says he figured it out, the equation or something or other. Says it's important."
"Bastard should stay in hell."
"Oh Renji! You should be nicer to him. He really likes you."
"I don't care."
There's a quick knock at the door, before the handle turns and Ichigo walks in. He's drenched and scowling. Both Rukia and Renji turn their heads and stare at him. "Not even a full twenty-four hours," she says and whistles. She guesses that Renji must really be that good.
Ichigo shakes his head, sending cold droplets in all directions. He says, "I'm not going to run off, you idiot. I just needed to blow off some steam." He takes special care not to look at Renji and asks, "Did anyone perk any coffee?"
Renji sighs and faces back toward the television. "You gonna leave again once it's stopped raining?"
And Ichigo looks to the side and says, "Looks like nothing even moved since I left yesterday. Coffee hasn't budged, well, Rukia kinda did, but the big fatso hasn't."
Renji spits, "that better not be aimed at me, berries." Rukia simply exits to the next room.
Ichigo shouts, "damn fucking right it is." He can hear Renji laughing and it sends trembles through his body. "What?" he shouts louder.
"You're such a fucking kid. Running away, coming back to call me names- it's all ridiculous." Renji gets off the couch and heads toward Ichigo. Once he gets close enough, he slams his hand next to the boy's head and says, "Look at yourself. You've got absolutely no where to go do you?"
Ichigo bites his tongue. He's had time to think about his death, and his undead existence. He's thought about Renji and himself. He's thought about everything he'd love to do and say to settle the score between them; but after all this thinking, he realized, "I don't want anything to do with you anymore, Renji."
The fan rattles in the corner. It hums and shakes and clicks. The floor, it still has mold spores growing between the buds of the carpet fibers, and moss is creeping over the tiles. The walls are still soggy because the plumbing is still leaking, and the air is still hot and sour. No, Ichigo thinks, he wants nothing to do with this anymore. He looks up at Renji's face. He sees those crimson eyes looking away and watches how his tongue slides along his teeth inside his mouth.
Renji blinks and nods, and then drops his arm. Ichigo steps aside and leaves the room. Now all Renji can hear is that damned fan. And he doesn't know why but he walks over and unplugs it. Instantly, he feels the air get heavier. He tries to take a deep breath, but it's like trying to suck up peanut butter through a straw. Under the night table, there's a fashion magazine. No doubt, its Rukia's, but it reminds him of the past. Who was it again? A woman who'd held his face in his hands and said, "Renji, how many more things do you have to lose before you begin to take care of them?" He'd never answered her. Who was it again, maybe a hairstylist?
To answer her now, he could say everything and nothing. I'll lose everything, he thinks, but it's all absolutely nothing.
16. Muck
If you ask Byakuya about ghosts, he'd wave his hand and say, "who?" Amidst all the lists and numbers, he'd say, "you mean this?" Marking and scratching up the papers, he'd tell you, "don't worry about that, hand me that calculator." And he'd keep on punching in numbers. He does this in kitchen of the flat.
Rukia sits across from him and asks, "those taxes or something?" He shakes his head. "Are they," and her voice drags on, "bills?" No. "They look like really big numbers."
"It's impossible to be accurate right this second," Byakuya mumbles, "because the numbers keep changing. The births, the deaths, they keep climbing every millisecond. It's not like we can put that on pause. You see," he lifts the screen of the calculator, "in order to get the numbers right, they have to be manipulated."
"You mean, like the suburban serial baby-killers? That really hit the news big once Renji tipped the cops off," Rukia frowns. She wraps her hands around a cup of coffee.
"Even that wasn't big enough." Byakuya rests his elbows on the table. "We need something monumental. Something that'll make the birth and death rates identical."
"Why?"
"Because it'll halt the population growth."
"So?"
"Then the numbers will stop climbing."
"And?"
"I'll be able to solve the equation."
"So," Rukia's voice drags, "how are you gonna do that?"
"Well," Byakuya grins and keeps punching numbers into the calculator. "I'll need approval from Soul Society." He looks around the kitchen. "I didn't see Renji around today. Is he here?"
Rukia motions behind her, "went out the kitchen window."
When you're trying to get away from something, you never feel far enough. You never feel safe enough. Trotting on the side of the road, Renji constantly looks over his shoulder. Once he's put a few miles between himself and the flat, he leans against a building and breathes. Why does he bother to run? He knows he can't escape. He takes in a deep breath and starts to walk slowly. He won't get back to the flat until morning.
Once it's dark, once the walls of the apartment building are filled with shadows, Renji returns. He looks up the fire escape and hears it creaking under his weight as he climbs it. He mumbles, "fucking fourth floor," and regrets not taking the chance of entering through the front doors. But he knows he can't. Byakuya might be watching. He has before, that is, grabbed Renji in the apartment lobby. After that, Renji always used the fire escape. Front doors are too obvious, too risky.
He swings a leg through the kitchen window, and his foot lands into a sink filled with soppy water. Must be yesterday's dishes. He'd used that water to mop this morning. He was making an effort to clean up a bit. And this morning, as he'd been slapping the floor with some stolen janitorial equipment, he'd heard Byakuya come through the front door. Now, Renji is back at the window hours later, crawling through the dark flat with one foot soaked in cold, scummy water.
As he patters through the kitchen, he steps on a fork and yowls. This is when the lights flicker on and he sees Rukia leaning in the doorway. She sucks her teeth and says, "Yo, Renji." And he nods as he yanks the fork out from the bottom of his foot. Next time, he thinks, he'll make sure to wear more than just socks. The problem was, when you're jumping through windows in split seconds, you don't really stop and think, 'maybe I should put on my shoes first.'
Rukia points at the fork in Renji's hand. "Make sure you wash that," she says, yawning, "because I don't want to be eating my pancakes with your foot fork tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah," he groans, tossing the slick fork into the aging sink water. "I'm hoping that the beast is gone," his eyes wander past her, "and I'm guessing Berries is sleeping in the bedroom?"
"Don't call my beast a brother," Rukia stops for a moment and then says, "don't call my brother a beast."
"And don't call me Berries," Ichigo says, walking up behind her.
Renji's lips pucker to the side and he says, "sorry."
So Ichigo looks at the ceiling and says, "for what?"
"You know," Renji says and motions toward the sink, "for stepping on the fork."
Ichigo scoffs, "really? I'm not." Renji shrugs and Ichigo wanders into the main room.
"Does no one sleep anymore?" Renji asks.
Rukia says, "I don't know."
He takes a seat at the kitchen table and presses his cheek onto the wooden surface. "I'm tired of this," he says, "I think." He feels Rukia's hand slide through his hair.
"Talk to me," she says and sits next to him.
Ichigo is in the next room. He has the television volume on low so he can hear their conversation from the kitchen. He focuses on Renji's voice. The way he's speaking to Rukia now, it's like a hoarse whisper. It's like how he used to talk to Ichigo in bed. He remembers how it would scratch against the man's throat as he spoke softly into Ichigo's ear. He would say things like, "this is where I always want to be" or "I will take you anywhere" and Ichigo would just listen as Renji did wonderful things to his body. At the moment, Ichigo drops his head and closes his eyes because his body is tingling. He can feel the ghost kisses and movement of Renji's body against him, although he's quite sure he's alone. Images are reeling through his mind, so he covers his eyes with his palms as if it could stop it. It doesn't help that he can hear Renji's voice from the kitchen.
He's still the only person more obsessed with Renji than Renji, and he can't help it.
Renji says, "You know what I haven't done in a long while?"
"What's that?" Rukia says, she purrs.
"Jumped off something."
"Yes, that's true. You used to do that a lot."
"I just don't like jumping off buildings. And Japan is just full of buildings."
"When we were working in BC, you would jumpalmost every weekend."
"I liked the cliff sides there."
"My brother would always come looking for you, you remember right? Back when my brother was a reaper like us? And he would go searching the cliff sides for you." Renji nods and she continues, "He would tell me about it sometimes. How he would look over the boulders or wade through the water looking. One time he said he'd found just your arm floating in the lake. He had such a hard time trying to retrieve it. And when he'd return with you, he would always whine about your work ethic. How you were always late for your reaps, and how selfish you were." She starts to laugh. "And do you remember that one morning? He was brushing his teeth and you were in the bath; and he was lecturing you about it. So you drowned yourself in the bathwater?"
Renji laughs. "I remember. Shoulda seen the bastard's face. He was so offended."
"I don't think he ever forgave you for that." There's a shrill noise ringing from Renji's pocket. It sounds into the air in short, but loud spurts. He frowns and stands to reach his hand into his jeans. Why is the black phone ringing? It never rings. Actually, it's been doing that a lot lately. Rukia looks at him and says, "these are bad omens. It's never good to get calls from the underworld." She starts shaking her head, "nobody wants to chat with the dead." She spreads her elbows on the table and covers her ears.
So Renji walks into the main room. He presses the phone against his ear. He's speaking. Leaning against the wall, the window open and the room chilled like an icebox, he mumbles into the phone, "yeah?" And a static response crackles into the air.
Tiny puffs of wind lift his red, red hair and tangle it, then he stares at Ichigo. Ichigo, who is just sitting on the couch biting his nails; he's thinking it's the end of the world.
Renji talks quietly into the phone, the dark, slim phone and says, "That's, um, unethical. Don't you think?" And some more paper crumpling noises come through the phone. Renji snaps the phone shut and asks Ichigo, "What's it supposed to mean?" And Ichigo shakes his head, so Renji clarifies, "the greater good?"
Ichigo frowns. "It means that the end justifies the means."
"But the end is it. It's really the end." Renji tosses the phone onto the bed. "Nothing comes after the end."
Rukia stands at the doorway, trembling. Her voice is small and nervous as she asks, "who was it?"
He answers, "Byakuya."
"And what did my brother say?"
Renji runs a hand through his hair and sighs, "He says that at noon tomorrow, we're responsible for wiping out this part of Japan."
Ichigo spits, "what? We're what? No, I don't think so."
Renji nods, "Soul Society is," he pauses, "well, he called it purging."
Ichigo stands, and brings his arm quickly into the air, "We cannot kill all these people! What? Is there going to be a bomb or something."
Rukia shakes her head. "He said," she looks to Renji, "something about numbers right?"
"Right." Renji sighs, "Damn, it's gonna be a long day tomorrow. Think of the chaos! Honestly, why does he have to dump all this work on us?" He drops his head. "I just know they're going to run. We're going to have to chase them down. You just watch! Well, fuck if I'm going to do that!"
Ichigo's face lifts. He thinks, Renji better play the hero. He better stand up for human life and denounce Byakuya because, damn, Ichigo doesn't have the balls to do it. Renji opens his mouth again, "Fuck chasing," he says waving his arms, "I'm calling dibs on that red Porsche! You know, the one that's always parked in the new mother's lot."
Figures. Renji didn't have an altruistic bone in his body. Fine. Just fucking fine. Ichigo will have to stand up for human rights. Fine. He says, screams, "we can't just run over half of Japan, you stupid, insane fuck!" Renji and Rukia look at him blankly. So he keeps shouting, "They're people! You can't just kill people! What's wrong with you?"
Rukia scratches her head and offers, "well, I wouldn't really call this death, would you? And it's not like they'll never, ever be alive aga-"
"Don't rationalize it!"
"You need to berational."
"You're insane!"
"I'm rational."
"Renji say something!"
"The red Porsche," Renji says, "it's mine."
…
Renji groans and rolls over, further tangling himself in bed sheets. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes and having the rushing flames of sunlight smack into them. He shuts his eyes quickly, growling and pressing his palms into his face. He screams, "Whoever opened the blinds, fuck- fuck you!"
His reply is, "get up earlier." When Renji pads into the kitchen with only a sheet wrapped around his waist, Ichigo says, "how appropriate." And Renji yawns. Ichigo raises a cup to his lips, "you slept in," lifting his eyebrows in an exaggerated expression, he says "on this very remarkable day."
Renji talks while he yawns, "you didn't go?"
"Could you repeat that? I don't understand freak." So Renji says it again, this time not yawning. Ichigo says, "Oh, you mean that you expected I'd be out gallivanting and murdering people in the streets instead of having lunch?"
"Kinda," Renji yawns and then repeats himself more clearly, kinda.
"Renji," Ichigo's voice settles and his mouth weighs into a tight frown. "I don't understand what's happening here." He looks into his cup and watches the rippling reflections; then he shrugs irately and shakes his head. His sighs out like a horse, licks his teeth and says, "there's no explanation for it."
Renji looks away and says, "I should have told you about Byakuya." He swallows and laughs, "but fuck Ichigo, it's not like it was hard to see."
"I'm not talking about that. Fuck that. I'm talking about the friggin' crusade that's going on outside the window." Ichigo pushes the cup away. "If you look on the news, it's happening everywhere. People just falling down on the streets, in markets, anywhere where we can get them. All we do is touch them and poof. Dead."
Renji doesn't want to talk about this. He wants to talk about that.This, he knows about. He's being hearing about this since he died. He dismisses it as, "a numbers game."
"What?"
"What's going on out there is a numbers game."
"How can you call it a game? People are dying!"
"They call it a game- they. You know, thegods? They've been planning something like this ever since the invention of the calculator. It's not all that surprising."
"Who? Soul Society? Why?"
"Well, I suppose it wouldn't be since the calculator, probably before it to. They've been mathing around since forever."
"Renji," Ichigo says, rubbing his forehead, "can you try to make sense?" Renji, standing there wrapped in bed sheets, Ichigo just can't be angry with him. He's got such a puzzled and guilty expression on his face. It creates tiny lines between his brows and a twist in those generous lips. Nope, Ichigo isn't feeling very angry with him. He sighs and says, "never mind. I know what is happening, I'll just never see why it has to."
"How was I supposed to tell you about Byakuya?" Renji says abruptly.
"What?"
"How?" he asks a little angrier. He watches Ichigo's features stretch into narrowed eyes and a frowning mouth. His faint, blonde eyebrows pull up with uncertainty and distrust. And Renji demands again, "How? How couldn't you see it?" Renji's eyes squeeze shut and create long wrinkles around his nose. Why didn't Ichigo see through it, through Byakuya or through him? Why did Ichigo always need to be told everything? When Renji opens his eyes, he looks straight at Ichigo. "What's going on out there," Renji motions to the window, "is life and death trying to reach an equilibrium, to solve some sort of divine equation and restore some biblical paradise. Yeah, gods buy into crap like the bible." Renji's voice is shaking and harsh. "And what's going on here, as in right here is two, big, fucking egos fighting each other into the ground."
Ichigo says, "that's retarded." He stands up from the table, his chair screeching behind him. "First of all," he says coolly, "you can't kill your way to paradise. And second," he turns toward Renji, "it's not mybig fucking egothat-" Ichigo pauses and then shakes his head, saying, "The entire world is dying," he drags his hand over his face. He's quiet for a moment, "we all just think we're gods, don't we? We wake up in the morning and think we're capable of doing anything. We look in the mirror and think we deserve better. Everywhere, everything, we just try to own it all." He let's out a heavy breath and begins to speak louder and quicker, "If you look anywhere, it's jam packed with stuff that we've made up. Buildings and televisions- it's like we think we have a right to create or something. And it's all for us, right?"
Renji offers a small grin and says, "Not gods, Ichigo. Heaven is what makes a god. You said the world was dying? So it'll take us with it."
"Heaven huh?"
"Yeah," Renji says. "And it ain't no city."
…
Renji sits on the couch, wrapped in bed sheets from the waist down; and Ichigo sits at the kitchen table. His hands are laced in front of his mouth as he watches Renji in the main room- Renji who is not watching television or talking. He's just breathing. He just looks out the window and into the sky. Ichigo wonders if he's waiting, wonders if Renji's in deep thought. He wonders if maybe it's not too late for Renji to change his mind. Maybe Renji will help him. Maybe the two of them can stop death. Together. Somehow.
But Renji starts humming She'll be Coming Around the Mountain, and Ichigo blows out a heavy sigh. It's too much to hope. Renji will never be the man Ichigo wanted him to be. The way Ichigo wanted it, it'll just never be. And Renji keeps humming because he doesn't remember the words. After the chorus, Renji mumbles in tune, "she'll be driving six red porches when she comes." He hums a bit and then picks it up at, "And we'll go out to meet her, and we'll all go out to meet her when she comes." The way Renji sings it, low and soft, Ichigo thinks it's almost comforting. And then Renji turns to him and says, "that song is really about death you know."
Outside, through the windows, you can hear the sounds of screeching cars and screaming people. You can hear the panic from the next apartment. Through the walls, the TVs and radios are blasting and spreading panic. The neighbors are shouting or whimpering or praying. They're asking for a God. "Oh God, please help. Save us," they say. They plead and it makes Ichigo sick.
Renji watches him mumble; he watches Ichigo say, "there are no gods."
And mumbling, unheard under the waves of grief and panic, are the words needed to squelch the panic. If you'd only listen! Would you only calm! You would stand at the mountain and meet her. Death. Over the quiet, over the reason are the layers and layers of terror and confusion. And we would rather indulge in that. We would rather leave the quiet behind. We would rather leave it as a whisper.
Renji blinks for a second and says, "She took the Porsche."
17. Dust Bites
Three weeks ago, Ichigo was kissing Renji. He'd grabbed the back of the man's neck and tried to push the man's larger body under his own. It was a great deal harder than he'd expected. Renji had wriggled away and swatted at the boy's hungry and grabbing hands. Their lips hovered over each other's, panting into the other's mouth as they continued to wrangle.
Recently, Renji just can't stand to strip. He can't lose himself in any sensation passed between the two of them anymore, almost as if his mind is stuck on something else. What was it that Ichigo had always seen in Renji's eyes? What was always gleaming and shining? It would sparkle every time Ichigo would reach a hand out to touch the other man. It would shine as he attempted to take control, as he pressed his palms against the other's skin. What was it that shone in those red, red eyes?
Renji grabs onto Ichigo's wrist and drags the boy's hand back onto the bed sheets. When the hand gravitates back and inches toward his thigh, Renji places it back onto the mattress. He just hopes it'll stay there, planted. He reaches for the nightstand and knocks the lamp off the surface. It tumbles onto the ground and the dim lighting becomes extinguished. Now Renji can breath easier. Now he can relax just a little bit more knowing his glaring flaws are just a little bit more hidden. Let Ichigo's eyes stay closed for the majority, he hopes. Let his hands stay planted so he won't have to touch or see my body.
He kisses him; and what shines in his eyes is fear- bright and ordinary.
18. Frosting
When Renji exhales, his breath rises in a smoky tornado. It fades into the ceiling and disappears into the water stains. This apartment will crumble, he thinks, before he is evicted. He tightens his arms around himself, grabbing and pulling the sleeves of his jacket snugger to his body. The building is quiet, except for the creaking of footsteps in the corridors. There's nothing interesting on the television; only news broadcasts and re-runs. The fact is that no one is concerned with filming entertainment anymore. All those channels have become nothing but static. White noise. Even the sky has become white and fuzzy with tiny, miniscule snowflakes.
Renji breathes out again, filling the room with smoke. He rubs his hands together quickly and then places them back under his arms. How long has it been since the world first experienced what people are calling 'death's crusade'? Renji can't remember. He doesn't bother to take note of history in the making. What he does know is that the seasons have progressed. It was in the late summer that Ichigo had sat at his kitchen table. (Renji had begun referring to the flat as his since the start of autumn.) And it was now in the thick in winter and Renji hadn't seen the boy since.
Renji waited for him to come back. He waited; seasons passed and Ichigo still hasn't come back. Another breath of twisting smoke disperses into the ceiling and Renji is still waiting. He hugs himself tighter and prays that the heater will kick in. He hears the lock of the front door click and Rukia's clicking heels entering the room. She puts a bag of something on the floor and glances at Renji.
"All huddled in the corner?" she says.
"Yeah," Renji answers. "How's the Porsche? It need gas?"
Rukia nods and says, "it does, but don't worry. On the way here I stole someone's wallet. So we'll have enough gas money to get us through the week." She breathes out a tiny puff of fog. "Too bad we didn't have enough money to fix the heat. I'm really craving a hot bath, a super hot one." She slips her shoes off her feet and steps into a pair of fuzzy, purple boots. Her steamy breath floats around her face as she asks, "do you think it'll always be like this?"
Renji shrugs and says, "Nah. The snow melts. Always does."
…
In the springtime, Renji watched Rukia disappear. He watched her body fade away into a thousand tiny splitters. Like salt and pepper grains, like static; She broke into tiny pieces and floated away. She blew away like dust. Renji had shouted her name over and over. The tenets above him had pounded through the floors and demanded his silent composure, but Renji keep yelling. He kept searching the rooms in the flat.
In the next few days, in the same clothing he'd worn all week, Renji stood in the main room and asked what was for dinner. He'd honestly forgot. He forgot for a moment that he was alone. Rukia had passed on. Ichigo hadn't come back. Every trace of snow had melted. He stood there for almost an hour, ruminating over his mistake. He even debated whether or not he should scan the flat again. Maybe one of them might be there, hiding; but instead he just sighed and took a seat on the couch.
He thinks about the last time Byakuya visited. It was only a few weeks ago. The ghost had surprised him in the early evening by letting himself through the front door. The first words he'd said were about how he just may miss having to track Renji down. Now, it was so easy to find him. He was always in this dump. And Renji couldn't help himself. He'd asked if Byakuya had known where Rukia or Ichigo have gone.
And Byakuya said, "They go where all ready spirits go. They go nowhere." It's a paradox; they're everywhere and nowhere; they're on earth but no longer on earth; they're apart of the world and not apart of the world; they're everything and nothing. "Where?" Byakuya said, "maybe we'll both find out one day."
And Renji wonders if Ichigo had broken and blown away as dust too. Did he become those small pepper and salt grains that Rukia had become? Were they both really gone? Were they actually at a place where Renji could never reach them again? A voice in Renji's head says, "How many more things do you have to lose before you begin to take care of them?" And Renji swats the air; he shoos away the voice. He leans into the couch and lets his eyes drop closed. He doesn't need a lecture right now.
…
Every Thursday morning Renji walks down the street to the small grocery store on the corner. He pays for his groceries while he eyes the headlines on the magazine shelf. Somehow, he's always a bit short of cash, so sometimes he'll have to knock over a few parking meters on the way. None of the cashiers mind waiting for him to count through the change. They just admire his hair or his eyes or his skin or his face or his body or his tattoos. Sometimes they make conversation or offer to help count. One time a young cashier with pink braces and freckles asked him if he was a model. He told the girl that he used to be.
On the way back to the flat, he notices policemen scattered around the front doors. They're talking to his neighbors. Renji wonders if he should risk it. Police have been arresting anyone these days- anyone who could potentially be a shinigami. It didn't take much to evidence to convict someone; and it didn't take much authority to execute someone these days. Renji had watched it on the news. He heard it over the radios. They've been putting people on trial and executing them within the month. Everything is much more dangerous these days.
Renji knows that a real shinigami cannot die. They couldn't be executed. So every execution was really a living person. He suspects that Soul Society probably has a hand in this. He wouldn't be surprised if Byakuya was the one pulling the strings. He'd be the only judge in the world punching numbers into a calculator before deciding whether or not to execute; like a new kind of witch trial.
But these days, Renji is pinning and blaming everything on Soul Society. Maybe the cashiers work for Soul Society too. As far as Renji is concerned, Soul Society has managed to bleed through into the living world almost completely. They had satellites now. In the hospitals, on the same piece of paper you write your baby's name, they doctors also write his death date. In Renji's mind, they might as well be handing out death certificates with the birth certificates. Soul Society, they've ruined everything.
He pivots on his heel and begins walking away from the infested flat. He'll spend the day somewhere else. Once it's dark and chilly, he plans to sleep in someone's unlocked car. He'll wait a few days before returning to the flat. Once he's a few miles away, Renji takes a seat at a bus stop. He shuffles through the grocery bags and looks for something quick to eat. He settles on a box of cereal.
Something sings from inside his jacket pocket. It sounds like a distant memory, something he can't fully remember. He slides a hand into his pocket and finds something thin and cool. It sings in his hand, that black phone. The last time it rung must have been almost a year ago- before Rukia and Ichigo blew away. He sets the box of cereal down and stares at the black phone. It keeps ringing. He licks his lips and pries the phone apart. It stops ringing and he presses it to his ear. He says, "hello?"
He says, "hello?"
And a voice says, "Hey Renji." And Renji is stone silent. He's not even sure he's breathing. The voice says, "You've been on Earth awhile. We're waiting for you." The voice over the phone laughs. "Hey, Renji, are you still there?"
Renji blinks and swallows a bit of air. He looks around and instead of asking questions, he just answers, "yeah."
"You're all by yourself, huh?" says the boy's voice over the phone. "Figures. Seeing as you can be such an asshole."
"Ichigo?" Renji says; his voice is steady and careful, "How did you get this number?"
"Idiot," Ichigo laughs. "A shinigami's phone has no numbers. All you've ever had to do is hit reply."
FIN
This sat around collecting dust in my documents for quite awhile.
I'm not particularly happy with it, but
perhaps my next fanfic well be much better and make up for the shortcomings of this story.
Adios! It's been a blast!
Please comment! I'm eager for your feedback.
