Her life is orientated by sport. Football. Tennis. Rugby. Baseball.
All of which have an unpredictable tempo. Fast, slow, long, quick. There is no telling what is going to happen next in the game; who is the winner, who is the loser; who strikes last and wins, who fails to defend and loses. Two people, two teams – the size, the numbers don't matter, only the fact there are two oppositions, with two final outcomes, set in stone when time is up. Or maybe not, for things such as foul play exist, lowering the chances for one team and raising the moral for another.
Sport is a metaphor for the relationship of her family. Because they're so unpredictable that no one actually knows what's going to happen next while remaining in their presence. The Kurosakis take things slow, they take things fast; but it still seems like a nightmare decorated in frills of silk and made of dreams. They'll laugh, smile, shout and act human. But there's no denying that the family is not normal.
Then again, who wants normal?
Normal is boring.
.x
Picture it now:
"Extra! Extra!" The ghosts whisper in hushed amazement. "They've turned normal! They're not a bucket of insanity anymore! They live and breathe like normal human beings and act like them too!" Their eyes gloss within the reflective surface, fanatically happy that no one can see them, fanatically unhappy that they aren't seen any more.
An inconspicuous Isshin. A social Ichigo. A Karin that is fine with being left out.
It's completely unrealistic and out of character.
Yuzu's normal. Well, the most normal. But she's theirs and the Kurosakis' love her just the way she is. And even she contains a quirk, though she hides it within wafts of cooking smells. Hers isn't as apparent as the other three.
But no, the Ghost Media would not be a big hit since no one can see them.
And the thought of the Kurosakis' as 'ordinary' is impossible.
Unthinkable, really. No point in dwelling on it.
.x
Slowly, she lowers her sunglasses, dark blue eyes piercing the bright sky, hidden behind shadowed lenses. Her nose sniffs, wiggling in an odd manner, before repeating the aforementioned method to check if her senses were in fact reliable.
The house is burning.
And her eyes are not deceiving her. Because the house is perfectly fine, save the smoke that slithers out of the glassy windows like vines that have turned into an ashen grey, slowly sauntering into new territory.
It's wonderful that the neighbours aren't panicking, or calling the cops. They must have suffered through this ordeal before; remembering that the screams and the shouts and the clatters and smoke fumes are perfectly, perfectly, beyond their control and not their business. They aren't worried at all.
White teeth bite on crimson lips, trying to suppress a grin. Locks of raven hair barely scrape past her shoulders, as her head lowers to her chest, downcast in her amusement. Her mouth widens; the idea too great to handle and laughter pours out of her like a hot spring, bubbling and bubbling as she emanates warmth, fizzling out of her like a volcanic eruption. She covers her mouth with her hand, to stop the sound from escaping. But like magma transforming into lava as it makes contact with the surface, it's already too late.
"You have got to be kidding me." She murmurs, devious eyes twinkling in a devilish manner, eyebrows arched in a disbelieving manner, and still she sits in the driver's seat, clothes camouflaged by black leather, her head visible in the bright red car, pale in a mixture of red and black. Goth, people called her. Stylish, she corrected, she liked the style. Of the car.
Lanky arms stretch, resting on the car's door, the windows rolled down, and like a cat she leans forward, chin barely touching her folded arms. Her mouth widens, a little too wide as the door opens and a lazy, grouchy boy steps forward from the porch, yawning.
And quickly stops in his tracks, his dark eyebrows furrowing.
Ichigo.
Who is lacking the promised pocky stick and quickly hiding his mobile phone.
Blue eyes twinkle behind shadowed lenses; the Cheshire smile sparkling.
.x
"Hey, nii-san!" She calls, laughing somewhat and looking for an evil way to tease him.
"What?" He mutters, running his hand through his hair. He knows that look all to well
Her dimple dances, always a sign of trouble. Clouds in the air slink away, though the gas fumes are quick to replace it, though far mistier and more transparent than the white strewn of cotton floating away in the blue sky will ever be. A breeze picks up, rustling her hair making it shimmer and swirl as she steps out of the car, black boots hitting the ground with a thud, straightening her biker jacket and just for the final touch, raises her sunglasses so it rests above her hair instead of her nose.
"Why the hell is Goat Beard cooking?"
.x
living corpse
2 : ice age
.x
The grouchy dragon finds Yuzu sleeping, snuggling into the red blanket on the sofa, snoring ever so slightly, her honey-brown hair in a mess. He can't help but smile sadly, that was what his girlfriend used to do, except she always burrowed herself into his arm, nuzzling her nose like a little puppy.
As if she knows that Hitsugaya Toushirou is watching her, Kurosaki Yuzu awakens, dark eyelashes flickering open, revealing warm brown eyes, her limbs somewhat soft. It's weird how easily she becomes part of the furniture, accustoming herself to her new habitat. Perhaps the mothering nature that she contains is the cause of it, loving, kind and tender, always. Or maybe it's because Yuzu is the wallflower of her family, unseen to most people, but not forgotten. Definitely not forgotten, or the Kurosakis would go mental. They love their family deeply, however abusive they are to their patriarch because he earns it.
"Morning, Toushirou-kun." She mumbles, rubbing her eyes, a constant reminder of a small child, innocent like a sheep.
A smile adorns his face while he waits for her reaction when she realizes that she didn't go home.
Gentle hands clap her mouth, eyes widening in horror. "I didn't!"
"… you did."
"Toushirou-kun, I'm really sorry. Do Otou-san and Ichi-nii know? Because you really don't want them to pounce on your tail…" Water bubbles up in her eyes, almost ready to overflow. She babbles, thinking about the consequences and possible what ifs and maybes.
His smile turns into a smirk before turning into a frown. It's cute for a while, before it becomes annoying. "Kuro—"
"—and then there's the rabbits—"
He winces, hating the reminder. There has to be a way to make her stop talking, though usually she's a sensitive girl. "Yuzu."
"—or… what?" She blinks, doe eyes widening and staring at him surprised. Her mouth parts, as if she's about to say something, but no words come to mind. The result is a rather adorable fish impersonation, though her personality is more like a deer. His use of her first name shocks her, almost a painful memory in the past when he did used to use her first name. Now he has drawn back, distant and trying to protect himself from the real world, sheltering himself from the full barrage of emotions.
"I called Kurosaki yesterday. They know, and it's alright. I was going to offer you breakfast." Carefully, he explains, trying to maintain his composure, breaking as she made an effort to care.
"Oh. Um." She takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the heat of her cheeks rising, her blush of embarrassment. "Sorry."
"So, breakfast?" He offers her a hand, a balanced trade for the help she's done to him, and not letting his apartment look like a mausoleum dust everywhere with the memory of death, the stench unbearable.
And she smiles, soft and kind, her expression like sunbeams, tenderly touching his icy heart, not enough to melt it, but enough to be felt. She takes his hand and pulls herself up, still in her clothes from yesterday.
"Okay."
.x
"Nii-san, if you think I'm stepping one foot in there, well, you've got another thing coming."
She could hit him. Hard. He's asking her a question like the two evils and which one was the lesser one. The answer is obvious: neither, both of them contain the same amount of it.
"Come on, Karin. Pick one. You've got to eat, and I mean healthy food." Her brother sighs, not quite able to rid the frown of his grumpy face, despite being amused. "Life on the road—"
"—doesn't have Yuzu's cooking. I know, I know. Choice was friggin' obvious." Karin mutters, feeling her cheeks heat up, blemishing her pale white skin, hating the decision she had made. But given the choice, she wouldn't choose the alternative. Anything is better than that. She ruffles her hair, feeling the wind toy with it, looking away, that painful glimmer in her eye. It's barely visible, but Ichigo can see it. "Where is that dipshit living, anyway?"
"So, you're—"
"Yep." Clicking her tongue, bitten nails drum on the red car, a habit to hide her chagrin. "I don't want to, but seems like I've got no choice."
She has a choice, but she isn't willing enough to suffer through it again. One holiday is enough.
Stretching her arms, she grins lopsidedly, head tilting to the side, a mixture of love, embarrassment, annoyance and understanding cross her face. Only Kurosakis can pull it off, and Karin and Ichigo are masters at that expression. "At the very least, you do have pocky, right?"
Suddenly sheepish, Ichigo can't help but grin. "Sorry. Didn't expect you come so early. Still, we can always go the convenience store; plenty of pocky there."
"Yeah." Karin says, sliding into her car. "Right after we rescue our princess from the beloved dragon. That bastard is not going to court my sister." There's a pause, awkward and unknown, and Karin feels like she's crossed the line, but doesn't know why. Her brother says nothing, an odd look passing through his familiar face, and he shifts, wondering if he should be the one to tell her.
She's been gone a long time.
"Get in." She inclines her head, waiting for him to join her, turning the key and revving up the motor, sliding her sunglasses with her free hand. "I don't know the way, so lead me, mighty strawberry."
She's missed so much.
"You're never going to accept Isshin's cooking, are you?"
"Never."
.x
There's a comfortable silence between them, deep and familiar, relaxing them like being enveloped in a warm hug and nothing can ever hurt them. But that's their love, deep and everlasting, however disgruntled they get at each other.
She drives slowly and leisurely, her hair lifting ever so slightly, like a ship's mast, billowing in the wind, rippling like leaves in flight. Her eyes, dark blue as ever drink in the landscape, absentmindedly taking in the differences and the similarities that have happened since she's left.
"Where were you going?"
"Huh?" Leaning back, Ichigo watches his little sister from the corner of his eye.
"Before, when you opened the door – you were going somewhere." Musing, she connects the dots, grinning when she finds it. "You had a mobile… and, you were going to see your girlfriend." At Ichigo's hesitant squirm, her face twists, sheer amusement prettily showing on her face. "You were. That's cute! You and Momo, then?"
"Yeah." A sheepish smile tugs at the corner of his lip, partly at the thought of Hinamori Momo, the other part because even Karin has her girly moments. "We got together, eventually."
"Captain Strawberry and his Vice-Captain Peach. Fruits unite." A laugh escapes her lips, rich and merry and her brother can't help but join in. But the moment only last for so long, her hands tightening on the wheel, her foot using the brakes to slow down. She turns, her expression cloudy, eyes a mixture of regret and happiness. "How much have I missed?"
"Turn left, we're nearly there." Her orange haired companion sighs, closing his eyes and scratching the back of his head, waiting for her to comply. "A lot. A heck of a lot."
"I figured, nii-san. You gonna spill, or do I have to act like a complete idiot and not ask questions only to discover that I've made a grave error in this big blue world, and realize that I've only broken bonds instead of fixing them?"
"Wanderlust's a pain in the ass." Ichigo scowls, an ugly expression crossing his face. "I'm not to going break this gently; this town is frozen as it is idiotic. Rukia's dead. Car accident."
.x
Breathe.
Breathe.
It's not the end of the world, just the end of her life. And she's been dead for quite some time.
Eyes widen, dilating. Breath is caught, stuck in her throat. Hands clench, harder and harder against the wheel and the car nearly stops moving.
I wasn't there.
But—
No.
.x
"Hey, you're going to be okay, right?" Ichigo asks, so far away at the moment. His voice feels distant, because everything is disjointed, cracked and fractured like mirror shards breaking into a million different pieces.
"She's really dead, isn't she?" It still hasn't sunk in. The first thing to do is to reject, and that's one of the things Karin is best at, after headstrong confrontations.
"Pull over. We're here."
.x
Sport. There's always a certainty of the unpredictable. There are the underdogs and the favourites, two sides with one team predicted to win, the other who tries to win, giving it their all. Sometimes the favourites win, other times the underdogs win. It's not fifty-fifty, but it's sometimes, sending a message of hope to the normal civilians, never quite as famous as celebrities.
It isn't fixed, though people can try and force the outcome to their preference. That's life. That's sport. That's style.
And out of all the things that could have happened upon returning, she wasn't expecting that.
Well. That makes this reunion so much sweeter.
.x