living corpse Chapter 8: passing the time, a bleach fanfic

The sun rises with so many colours that it seems like the sky itself glows.

"It's nice… isn't it?" Karin says, barely able to discern the figure from the window's transparent surface. "Watching dawn when the world feels so quiet and still."

Pretty. Rukia murmurs in agreement, eyes shining with admiration.

Karin snorts, soft laughter tumbling down from under her breath.

"Only you, Rukia. Only you…" She turns to face the ghost, meeting invisible air, forgetting for a split second that she can't see ghosts without the aid of reflective surfaces.

Hitsugaya Toushirou snores on, oblivious to the girl glaring daggers at him. He shifts, and tugs the bedcovers around him a little tighter.

"I bet he hasn't watched these kinds of things for a long time." Her eyes soften, her composure wilting as slowly, one by one; her petals fall to the ground, plucked apart by self-loathing and guilt. "Really… he doesn't know what he's missing."

When he wakes up, Karin is nowhere in sight and the window is open, the tacky curtains being gently blown by the wind. Cerulean blue eyes narrow, questioning the behaviour of his travelling companion.

Is Kurosaki Karin that much an unorthodox girl that she would climb out the window to get breakfast and return via the same entrance?

Quite possibly.

Toushirou decides to occupy himself, rather than search for her. Who knows, maybe he'll actually witness the event of her return to claim her property and he'll catch her red handed, entering through the window like a thief.

It is for this reason that he decides to take his shirt off and take a shower.

Although the shower is in fact a bath that has a translucent curtain covering it and he can hear a voice mumble various inaudible things. The ominous silhouette is vaguely discernable, though the trainer is visible, since it is poking through the curtains and is not contrasting very well with its bright colours and the pale cream colour of the bath.

"Karin…? Is that you?" He asks in a flat voice, not amused.

"Oh hey, Toushirou! You're up, finally." Karin cheers through the curtain, moving her hand to pull the curtain to see him. Suddenly, she stops and frowns. "… are you naked?"

"Are you?" He retorts, grabbing his pyjama shirt and messily putting it back on, pulling at the edges, once it reaches his waist.

"Yep. So, can I pull the curtain now to unveil the beautiful me?" Breathing out, she compresses her lips, and waits for his answer.

"Yeah. Sure. Go ahead." Tonelessly, he replies, not really taking in her response. But then, the trainer is a slight giveaway that indicates that she is dressed.

"Tada!" She grins, with a slight pose. But the moment lasts for only a second, before she scowls, disappointed by his lack of reaction. "Gee, aren't you a bright ray of sunshine in the morning."

He blinks. "… what?" Reality fumbles, its grasp slowly tearing away the sanity in his mind, under lock and key by the pretence of sleep. Cogs turn, bones click, though Karin cringes slightly at the sound. Realization dawns far too late. "Karin, what are you doing in the bath?"

"Texting." Her one worded answer is concise. Short and simple. Nonchalant.

It annoys him.

"Get out!" Cheeks heating up in anger, he points to the exit where she is supposed to go.

Pouting, she slinks from the tub to the door like a blob that has no will to do the intended task, rather reminiscent of a slug or a salamander. But she's grinning. Just for getting on his nerves while she was being civil.

The door shuts, speeding up so a gust of wind can be felt, and slowing down to avoid the slam.

Hitsugaya Toushirou scowls. Weird girl.

But then, she'd always been weird.

At least, to him, she was.

Karin doesn't talk a lot during breakfast, preferring to gaze out the window, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand. As if she's waiting for something. She taps her fingers in a non-sequential rhythm and occasionally let her feet join in if the mood takes her. She purses her lips, and lets her entire body relax, as if she is water, ready to slip and slide.

Toushirou munches on some rice balls.

It's a fairly uneventful breakfast.

The smile washes all over her face as she bounces on the bed, springy like a puppy. And it's like her smile never left her face, only had a mild interlude where the lullaby hesitates before continuing to weave its enchanting melody.

"Why are you so happy?" Hesitant, not quite sure if these words are the right ones to ask, Hitsugaya voices his question.

And she grins, wrinkling her nose in the process.

"Because, I have a plan!" Snapping her fingertips, Karin almost looks like the ten-year-old she used to be, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"…"

"You do want to hear it, right?" Narrowing her eyes, the thought occurs that she may be wasting her time.

He sighs, looking none the wiser; folding his arms. "Go on then, let's hear it."

"Thank you." In the bat of an eye, she throws away that thought, folding it neatly and then disposing it into the trashcan, like Yuzu would like. "We – that's right – you and I… are not going to Tokyo."

"Okay…" Slowly he compartmentalizes the thought, breaking it down and putting it back together, like all the jigsaw pieces that he deconstructed and rebuilt when he was a child. "So where are we going?"

Confusion creases her forehead, and Toushirou has the feeling that he's asked the wrong question. Because in another second, her facial expression stops being beleaguered and starts being annoyed, glowering at him.

"Unbelievable. You're not going to fight me on this?" Her eyebrows furrow and she stands up, trying to meet him eye-to-eye.

Damn it.

Why the heck am I so short?

The option to step on his toes and crush is tempting…

This totally sucks. And not even on tip-toes am I able to reach him.

"Why should I? It's your plan." He flatly says, not rising to the bait.

"Huh." She nods, realizing something which she doesn't like that much. "I see. Okay."

"That's it?" He blinks, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Um, yeah." She tilts her head, placing the mask of innocence on her face, widening her eyes. "Why, did you expect something else; say… an argument or violence or anything of a conflicting nature?"

"No." The words hesitantly come, bitter surprise on his mouth. The pause is long enough to let her know that Toushirou is lying. "Just surprised at your casual dismissal; usually there's a bit more fire."

"I've matured." Gritting her mouth, she frowns, scowling at his refusal to let the memory of her fade away. "How long is it going to take you to get that into your thick head? Anyway, go." She points to the door. "Walk through the door and wait in the car."

"Are you going anywhere?"

"… south. Hiroshima." She decides, nodding slightly to herself. "I'm not ready to go to Tokyo just yet." She waits.

Toushirou still lingers, unmoving and gazing at her with a vague and unreadable expression on his face.

"What? I've got to brush my teeth, and hand in the key; then we'll be off in a flash."

She waits.

"Okay. See you in the car." He nods, walking through the door and not looking back.

She sighs, flopping back onto the comfy bed. "Man, what a pain."

What now? Rukia flits, joining her, albeit unseen.

"… he's dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead! Not like you, Rukia." Scowling, Karin confesses, amending her error. "Different kind of dead."

I got that already. Still, at least you've made progress.

"Doubt it." She tucks back a rebellious curl, displeased with herself. "I fail to see how I made any progress."

He's out of Karakura Town, for one. And without you, I don't think he would have left.

"Well, I gave him the opportunity, I guess. He took it." Karin inclines her head. "Can't fault him for that."

And she hates the silence that overcomes them, bearing a heavy weight.

He has changed you know. For the better. And… for the worse, I guess. Rukia breaks it, trying to find words of comfort.

"I know. I know. But, he still feels like the Toushirou I used to know. It's just going to take time… to get used to it." Locks of black hair cover her eyes as she shifts away from the ghost.

It goes both ways, you know. Kuchiki Rukia reminds her, attempting to lessen her friend's frustration. You can't expect him to fight everything you say.

"I suppose. Thanks for the reminder, Rukia." Sitting up, she makes the decision to stand up and walk forward. Even though the decision is made, she doesn't go through with it. "Hey, since you were his girlfriend and all, you can practically read his mind, right?"

Rukia only smiles.

And eventually answers the question, momentarily forgetting that her expression can't be seen without the aid of a reflective surface.

living corpse
8 : passing the time

Jumping into the car with youthful glee, Toushirou can only fear the mood that the driver has, based on past experiences.

"Alright, let's get out of here!" She cheers, revving up the engines. "Here we come, Hiroshima."

Toushirou gives her ten minutes, though it feels like eternity, before asking the question that repeats on his mind. It's ample time to let the excitement of going somewhere fade and for the silence to seep and become comfy with the radio.

"Why'd you change direction from Tokyo to Hiroshima?"

Karin thinks.

She wonders if she'd let herself blush and stutter, trying to find the answer, like what she usually does with her friends. Half-angry that they'd question her, half-amused that they know her so well.

Toushirou, Toushirou, Toushirou. She'd say with confidence, being patronizing on purpose. Don't you know that life is full of surprises? And you can't control the outcome all of the time?

But she doesn't.

She only slows down the car, waiting for him to either lose interest or for a less condescending answer to come to mind.

"Because, if life's a journey, from the beginning to the end, then who's to say that we have to follow it in a straight path?" She likes philosophy, being all deep and profound. It implies that big hand gestures must be used, although this is optional and Karin refrains this one time for fear of going off-course and colliding with another car.

"You were bored and flippantly changed direction?" Toushirou translates, flicking her off cloud nine without a second thought.

"Yep." She nods. "If you want to put it that way."

Day two begins. Karin is slowly working up the nerve to ask Toushirou why he stares out the window and does not start a conversation. Toushirou, in turn, wonders why there are no clouds shaped like Chappy the Rabbit.

"…"

… half an hour has passed. Karin has been glaring at Toushirou non-stop. Toushirou has been ignoring Karin in turn, for fear of repercussions. That, or he's still wondering if he can control the weather through thought control. Hence his funny noises.

"Rukia… are you an idiot? He's been asleep for quite some time." Karin scowls, somewhat amused.

I knew that.

"… of course you did." She grins lopsidedly, at ease and in control.

He wakes up with a start, jumping as he gains his bearings, aware of the wind on his face and the sun in his eyes. Breathing heavily, he waits for his panic to subside, eventually calming down.

"You okay?" Karin asks, watching him out the corner of his eye, hands clenched on the wheel.

"I'm fine." The words come out, made of vomit and sweat and tears and pain.

She doesn't push him, preferring to switch the radio on and annoying him.

"Turn it off already." He growls, his voice husky from sleep.

"No way. Unless… we have a pop quiz!" The idea comes in this particular shape, meant to break the ice between them.

"… pop quiz?" Hesitant, he repeats the words with incredulity. Maybe he needs to sleep a little bit more. "Are you serious?"

"Do you want to hear the music, or would you prefer to have a 'getting to know you' session whenever the mood sets you?"

"You call that a pop quiz?"

"… I'm sorry, would you like to call it 'answer the damn question or die'?" She huffs. "At least I tried to give it nice sounding terminology."

"Fine. Let's have the 'pop quiz'." Reluctantly, he agrees with her idea.

"Yay." She claps once; mocking enthusiasm.

"Karin, you're just doing this to escape awkward silence."

"Yes, what's your point?"

"… are there any rules?" Toushirou eventually says, after mulling the limited options: in which there are none.

"Nope. Oh, except that we have to alternate and have to think of a question within half an hour just to brighten up our happy day." She informs with a smile, a dimple on her cheek.

And there is an expectant pause between them, one in a constant state of sunshine and daffodils, the other in a frigid flux of winter and frowns.

Reluctantly, he says the words that she wants to hear; his expression one of boredom. "… and if I don't?"

Out of generosity, she gives him a single pocky stick. He takes it, though in disbelief. Karin makes no comment, her mouth still stuck in a smile.

"Violence and music you hate!" The dark-haired girl answers quickly in radiance, positively shining along with the invisible Rukia.

He scowls.

"… I knew it."

"Pop quiz!" Karin begins with a clap of the hand. "Question number one!"

"Do you have to start it like that?" Sceptically, he narrows his eyes, already weary of her unstoppable energy.

"Pop quiz? Yes. Question number one? No. That was just so I could celebrate it to commemorate this special occasion." The words flow easily onto her tongue and she likes the way he curses under his breath at her behaviour. It's always fun to rile him up.

Also called 'getting to know you with a taste of violence, part one'. Rukia chimes in, her arms around Toushirou's neck.

"Okay." Toushirou nods, bracing himself for her first question as terrible, insensitive, and traumatizing and it may be. "I'm ready."

She does a drum roll on the driver's wheel, finding the tone to suit her words.

"What… is your favourite colour?"

He blinks, lips twitching into a smile.

"That's so lame!" He snorts, eventually letting it escape into a bubble of laughter while Karin remains silent. "Out of all the things to ask, why ask that?"

"Hey," Karin mutters, stung with a flush of red rising in her cheeks. "Sometimes you've got to start with the basics, you know? Start with the foundations, follow it with building a monument, maybe an empire, and then take over the world!" She pauses, connecting the dots of her tangent with furrowed eyebrows. "Ah. Maybe I went too far. Doesn't matter, just answer the question."

A favourite colour. Something simple, something clean.

Blue. Blue like Rukia's eyes that sparkled in sunlight when she was at her happiest.

Deep. Rich. Painful.

Beautiful.

… no.

I don't want to be reminded of Rukia.

He opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes out.

"Grey." His lips fumble on the word, vague and uncertain, almost mirroring the void colour that envelops people into a state of safety, a state of loss, numbing them into a sweet isolating abyss.

"Cool. Okay, your turn."

Toushirou sighs. Huffs. Struggles with finding the words. Then fights it.

… and succumbs to the question in his mind.

Karin watches him through the corner of her eye, amused. It's a very interesting procedure. The corner of her lips twitch, resisting the urge to completely make it into a full blown grin.

"Ugh. Fine… pop quiz…" His mouth eventually forces them out – that terribly lame phrase that's a misnomer.

"Oh? So fast?" Evilly, the grin is spread out, catty and smirking like the Cheshire who loves to delve in confusing matters and madness. "Why, Toushirou, I had no idea that you wanted to play Pop Quiz with me so eagerly. You have half an hour to think of a question, and yet it comes to you in a second."

"Favourite colour." Embarrassment flushes as a scowl becomes, once again, well acquainted with his face.

The black-haired girl tilts her head slightly. "Original. Hmm…" She places a finger on her lip, musing. "Red. Definitely red."

Red like—

… bang.

"Pop quiz!"

Ten minutes later, a question comes to Karin's mind. Once she's able to single it out from the rush that simply threatens to tumble out of her mouth.

"Okay. Shoot." Toushirou leans on the seat, snapping his fingers in expectation for good, bad or simply unexpected questions.

He doesn't notice her stiffen, doesn't notice her regain her composure.

"Is your favourite ice cream flavour still vanilla?"

"Yes." How she remembers that and not his favourite colour is beyond Hitsugaya Toushirou.

"Cool." She nods, commenting. "Nice to know some things are the same."

Toushirou could pursue that and start yet another argument, yet for the sake of their precious… 'pop quiz' and for fear of an incredibly embarrassing question, he blocks the road that goes in that direction.

It's maturity.

… yet being with Karin, quirky girl and wanderer, makes him feel like a kid, again.

It's nice.

Somehow.

"Pop quiz."

After saying it twenty or more times, he's become used to the phrase, no longer humiliated by the connotations. Well. Perhaps the older white-haired boy is still humiliated, but the extent is now lesser than before.

"I'm listening." Karin watches him out of the corner of her eye, nearing her destination.

"Why do you text in a bathtub?" Finally the question that has been bothering Toushirou has been revealed. Thanks to his sharp ears, he catches the chuckle that escapes under her breath.

And her grin is clear to see, outlined with a hint of mischievousness.

"Habit." She bluntly states, shrugging with a blasé exterior.

"Oh." Strange. He has a feeling that he'd been hoping for a little bit more than just a one worded answer.

"Yep." She nods, amused at his reaction. It's almost like he's turned into a snowman. Except he is a zombie as well.

… perhaps now is not the best time to inform him about her sock puppet quirk.

"Okay, last one." The younger black-haired girl informs Toushirou, the car already parked. "Then you can get out of the car; get our stuff while I book the room."

She drum rolls, loving the melodramatic feel that tingles in her fingertips.

He nods, a signal that has been recognised as his 'poker face'.

"Who are you?"

This time she watches him with both eyes, waiting for him to digest and process the information, looking for the honesty that she wants to find.

"Hitsugaya Toushirou." The name eventually stumbles from his tongue after a brief hesitation. It's a simple question; it deserves a simple answer.

"Are you sure?" Her face indifferent, she coldly observes his gauged reaction. "How do I know that you're not just using that name as a cover? A back up, one might say."

"Yes." Firm, he makes his decision, no longer in the mood to follow her games. "I'm Hitsugaya Toushirou."

"How do I not know that you're just the shell of Hitsugaya Toushirou?" She challenges, dark blue eyes hard. "And you've lost who you truly are?"

"You don't." Voice soft, quiet but unwavering, he replies; cerulean blue eyes boring into hers.

Neither want to break the eye contact.

"So tell me: who is Hitsugaya Toushirou?" She narrows the distance between them, and Toushirou can nearly count every single eyelash that she has.

There are so many ways to answer that. But for Hitsugaya Toushirou, there is only one.

"Me." He breathes.

Karin yawns, back-pedalling and stretching, destroying whatever mood that had been created.

"I'm tired. Get your stuff and mine, and I'll meet you there, okay?" Almost as if she is shedding her skin, she glides from the car to the hotel, footsteps light and padded, like she was never there.

Toushirou blinks, wondering why the hell he feels so relieved and sad that the moment is gone.

Dawn spills bright and early, spreading warmth into the cold hotel room. The light tickles and teases him, eventually forcing the sleeping dragon to open his eyes, though he makes sure to keep his breathing even.

And he sees her.

Karin.

Kurosaki Karin.

Her back faces him, and she gazes outside, watching birds in envy as they fly across the horizon, spindled in strings of pink and red and blue and grey. Black hair billows, swaying almost hypnotically as she shifts, troubled by something. It's an illusion, spellbound in hues of light that make her skin radiate in such splendour.

The curve of her cheek. The nape of her neck. Her skinny, skinny body that is feminine yet strong. Features that he has seen every day, yet none of it seem to be as important as they are now, his dulled mind seeking to memorize this image in time.

A lonely mirage painted on sea shells and crabs.

She turns, cheeks flushed, blue eyes soft, hair cascading down her shoulder and spine, mouth enticing.

Their eyes meet. Or maybe they don't.

No, he thinks as he closes his eyes, compelled by the lure of sleep, the safety net that protected him from reality.

It must have been a dream…