Thank you for waiting so long for me to get this up. I hope it was worth it...
"Magic is something no one can explain. It is a cruel blessing, given to us by the gods themselves, or maybe, we had stolen it from them and we reap the punishment, still. You must always remember that when you use such a great power as magic, you put not only your life, but also the lives of those around you in danger. If you lose control, even for a moment, the consequences will be dire. Also, with all uses of magic, there will be repercussions you can't see. Even the most skilled sorcerers don't know all the effects magically lighting a candle could have on the world. All this energy has to come from somewhere. Even magic isn't magic."
A passage from Secrets of Magic, given to Shuhei Hisage on his eighth birthday.
Renji was elated. He never, in a million years, thought this would happen to him. Dragons would return to the world and start terrorizing the lands before this, in his mind.
And yet, it still happened. There was not a fire-breathing dragon in sight. Renji couldn't possibly be happier.
"Well, I'll be," Shuhei said. He was grinning like a madman. He gave his friend a clap on the shoulder. "Ha! Congratulations, Red! Who knew you'd be the first?"
Renji beamed up at the other man from where he sat at the table, in the seat he had, quite literally and good-naturedly, kicked Shuhei out of merely minutes before. Rukia sat across from him, smiling pleasantly, glee in every feature.
"If I had known it would only take a couple of drinks to get him to ask," she laughed. "I would have bought him the drinks myself!"
Shuhei pushed the red headed man over on the bench and reclaimed his spot. Renji, drunk to the point where he had lost his inhibition, but not so much that he angered easily, nearly fell off, but righted himself before he hit the floor. Shuhei chuckled at him as he reached for his cup. Rukia, being the type to make any bright moment brighter, shoved her foot under one of Renji's own, the pulled up. The man fell over from the unexpected force. They laughed some more.
When the laughter died down, and Renji had clambered back onto the bench, they were quiet. Shuhei sipped his drink, feeling like an outsider as the newly betrothed stared at each other. To him, they were in a bubble of candlelit happiness. He wished Ichigo were with him. He'd at least have someone to converse with. But their friend had left suddenly, and was unable to even meet this woman, who had stolen the heart of their dear friend.
Well, now that that heart is locked away in her chest, he thought. There is no way Renji will ever get it back.
It was true. The couple was obviously in love. Shuhei saw that the moment they laid eyes on each other. It was in the way they looked at each other, smiled as the other spoke, the way Renji had introduced her to him. He was able to witness his friend in love, and not just in the flirtatious way he had been in in the past. The two had immediately started talking about everything and nothing, and after several hours, and a few drinks here and there, Renji had done the previously unthinkable. He, the infamous bed hopper, had asked Rukia Kuchiki to marry him.
Shuhei was proud, but a little depressed. He and Renji had known each other longer than he could remember. He never thought the other would ever find happiness in this form, since he was never one to see the same woman twice. And yet, here he was, engaged! And more than happily so. Shuhei couldn't not be more proud of him, and yet, he was alone. Ichigo had joined them a number of years back, but he always held something back from them. He was never all the way there. Sure, he was a wonderful friend, loyal and honest, but that wouldn't be enough to cushion the inevitable loss of his oldest friend.
"My lady," Shuhei bowed to Rukia. "Renji, I'll be heading back to the inn. You two probably have more than enough to talk about without me being in the mix, and I'm pretty tired. Goodnight, to you both."
Rukia stood and embraced the man. "It has been a pleasure meeting you. I wish you well on your walk back."
Renji just lifted his hand in a waving gesture, and went back to his conversation with his fiancé. Shuhei made his way through the drunkards and past the bard, who was singing a ballad no one was listening to.
It was not long before the dark haired man was back at the inn. He greeted the innkeeper, then made his way up the stairs to his room. He had a mind to knock on Ichigo's door, to tell him about the night's excitement, but he stopped, fist raised. Who was he to tell Renji's big news? He did not have that right, and nor did anyone else. Renji will tell him as soon as he is able, Shuhei was sure, and he would want it to be a surprise. He chuckled as the scene played out in his mind: Renji delivering the news, Ichigo not believing it, a short scuffle because of Renji's easily injured ego, and then laughter and celebration. With that in mind, Shuhei knocked on his friend's door, if only just to wish him a good night.
Nothing happened. Not a sound was made on the opposite side of the door. He knocked again, and again there was nothing. Ichigo was a light sleeper. No, he was lighter than light, unless he was sick or drunk. Shuhei's admittedly loud knocks should have been more than enough to wake his friend. Frowning, Shuhei put his hand on the knob, and turned it slowly. If Ichigo was sick, Shuhei wanted to know it. He did not fancy the idea that his friend was suffering while he slept off a few drinks.
The room was shrouded in a dark veil, the lamplight from the hall and a few silver moonbeams provided the only illumination. But that was all the man needed to see that his friend was not in the room.
Shuhei allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then, he surveyed the room for any clue as to where the other might have gone. He found it on the small, wooden round table, under a coin purse. The parchment was folded into fourths, each square lopsided and hardly being worthy of being called "square". They were more like...trapezoids.
Shuhei knew he was focusing on this small detail to distract himself from the words written on the parchment in hastily drawn letters. He put the letter down, already knowing what it said, and yet, knowing nothing at all. Ichigo couldn't have left. He simply couldn't have. It was impossible. They, the three of them, were going to stay together until their teachers returned from the war. Then, they would continue their studies, their antics, and then, someday, take their masters' places when they grew old and no longer fit to continue. This was the image Shuhei had in his mind. This was the path he had laid out for himself, for the three of them.
No. It was possible. Highly likely, even. Thinking back to the first time he and Ichigo had met, Shuhei had no doubt in that fact, even if he wanted to believe otherwise.
Raining. It always rained. The clouds blocked out the sun, and the sky cried tears of sorrow at the grief of all creatures. It was always so depressing; a reminder that the world suffers. Shuhei never much cared for it, but he understood the importance. Like Kensei had once told him, and still often does, "rain is the symbol of the world's negativity and corruption. It lets us know when the world has gotten so rotten, and when The Goddess has noticed such pain. Always see the rain as a message, read it, listen to it, and find a way to fix it so the rain can stop before a flood begins. It is my hope that someday, the rain will no longer symbolize pain, and give drink to our crops through suffering, but become one of prosperity, like it was before the gods put humans on this earth."
Shuhei had often thought about those words, and now, watching the rain, he wondered what grief had made The Goddess cry. Surely there were many. Creatures died, hearts broke, and people were hurt every day. But what was that final nudge that sent The Goddess into tears? Shuhei could only guess.
It was a holiday, meaning Shuhei didn't have any training or duties to attend to, other than the daily puzzles and questions his master gave him to strengthen his mind and to train him to think in several different ways. He had finished those, having only had to rethink one scenario, and was free to do as he wished. He tugged his boots on, laced them up to the top, and ran outside. He stood in the street, allowing the rain to come down on him. He tried to discern the cause that way, at first. It didn't come to him. It rarely did.
Shuhei then took to wandering the roads. His feet carried him from place to place, past bakeries, bookshops, armories, and tailors. He waved to anyone looking out the window, and they waved back. Eventually, he noticed that less and less windows were open, the cobblestone road less even. The houses began to show age and people, instead of being indoors with fires, were lines along the buildings, huddled in overused clothing. Dogs roamed, ribs showcased under their flesh and fur. Cats were caked in mud and tried to stay out of the rain by curling up under anything. He blinked, realizing he was in the poorest part of the city, Insolvent Sepulcher.
Shuhei wanted to turn around. He did not belong among these people. He may have once, but not anymore. He should not have been wandering streets so packed with memories so grim. He was safe from ever having to return. Kensei had seen to that, had he not?
Shuhei could not turn. His feet didn't want to go anywhere but straight, and straight they went. The child walked until the road stopped and was replaced by a wall. There, his feet carried him left and he made his way along the enclosure. He knew where he was, having been born here, but not where he was going. He just knew he had to keep on walking. His hand trailed along the comforting solidity of the stone as he went. Never once did the boy look behind him, not even as he felt several eyes trailing him, or heard the footsteps that failed to be discreet. He did not want pursuers knowing he was aware of them. That would only make them violent. He was not a stupid kid. He knew that if that happened, he would be easily killed and they would not even blink an eye. Here in the Sepulcher, the dead, even children, were commonplace. Killing was even more so. No, Shuhei would not confront them head on. He would have to find some other way to get them to leave him alone.
A plan already forming in his mind, Shuhei took off suddenly, delving deeper into Insolvent Sepulcher. His pursuers ran after him, but he had trained hard every day and their own malnourishment made them slower. He gained distance until he deemed himself far enough away. Then, he turned and bent toward the ground until his hands were hovering just above it shoulder length apart. Nothing happened at first, and the pursuers, five of them, four older boys and a girl, tried to close the gap between themselves and their prey. Slowly, the muddy ground took its toll and they began to grow tired. Their feet sunk deeper and deeper with each step until they were ankle-deep. That was when Shuhei made his final strike. He crossed his hands in an x-shape and hit the ground with his palms. Seemingly, that was all he did before standing and walking away, as calm as a lion in its own den. Yet the moment one of the five tried to move, they were paralyzed. Scared, they screamed and screamed until, annoyed, Shuhei released his spell and they were free to scamper off.
To his right, Shuhei heard a soft chuckle. He started. How could he have walked right by a person without even noticing his existence? A year back, he would have never been able to do such a thing. He was truly no longer a child of the Sepulcher.
"That was funny," Shuhei heard the voice say. He could not see the face of the boy, but from the shadows, he could see he was young, maybe as young as himself, and wearing cleaner clothes than most others who lived in the area.
"What was?" He couldn't see how the act of scaring people was funny.
"How you did that. I don't see why you did it, when with the speed you were running at, you could have easily lost them, but I can appreciate a good magic show. Though, I like flashy, like lightening, maybe, or bursts of fire." Shuhei could tell the boy was being honest, and he liked that. He could also tell the boy had a point. He could have outrun them, more easily than anyone probably knew. So why hadn't he?
"You're right. I should have just run away," Shuhei admitted. "But I didn't, and the gods will probably punish me for thinking it was alright to do something like that to people who had yet to do me wrong."
"It's possible." The boy nodded, but there was something in his voice. Before, it was light-hearted and amicable. Now… now it was almost as if they were speaking of a funeral. It threw Shuhei for a loop. "But then, they don't really care for reward and punishment. They like us to take care of things ourselves, instead." Defeated. That was the word. His voice sounded defeated. "You're not from here, are you?" He asked.
"I am. Or was, at least. I was taken in by my master a year, or so, ago. I was born here, but you look newly-come." Another chuckle.
"I have been here for five months." Shuhei's eyebrows shot up. Five months and he was still looking so clean? A day or two, the apprentice could have believed. A week, sure. A month was really pushing it. But five? He found himself unable to believe it.
"Did you steal those clothes? Or scrape up enough money to buy them?" he asked, searching for explanations.
"No. These are still the same smelly garments from my lost home. I've washed them a few times, though."
There's the answer to that question, Shuhei thought. If the boy hadn't provided one somehow, the unasked question would have driven him mad.
"What's your name?" the apprentice asked. There was a long pause.
"Why do you want to know?" The defensiveness in the homeless boy's voice was clear as day.
"It was only a question. I just want something to call you so I'm not referring to you as 'the boy' in my head." Another pause.
"It's Ichigo. Just Ichigo. Who're you?"
"Shuhei Hisage. Nice to meet you, Ichigo." Shuhei smiled and held out his hand to the boy –to Ichigo. As Ichigo's hand came out of his small shelter to clasp his, Shuhei noticed the rain did not fall on his hand, like it did everywhere else. This boy was either repelling the drops with magic, though Shuhei sensed none coming from him, or he was the one for whom The Goddess wept. When Ichigo's face came out of the shadows, smiling weakly at him, Shuhei noticed the rain let up just a little.
Whatever the burden Ichigo held on his shoulders, it must have been big, big enough to get The Goddess to cry. Such a great sorrow usually sent people to suicide or self-harm, but there Ichigo stood, smiling at him. It was a kind smile, but was also reserved and guarded, as though he was afraid it was going to be stolen from him.
And that was when his brilliant idea struck. He could convince Kensei to help this boy, too! If he could, then this boy would at least have a brother in him.
But, how?
Shuhei thought about it for a moment. Ichigo might not like the sneak-in-oh-now-he-is-already-here-so-here-he-will -stay approach, but asking Kensei without the face of the one he'd be helping would be like throwing a rock into a lake and expecting it to fly. Shuhei decided to take his chances with Ichigo's displeasure, than with his master's. He smiled brightly at his newest friend, all innocence and goodwill in every bit of his expression.
"You want to come live with me?"
Shuhei rubbed his face with his hands. Over the years, he had allowed himself to forget the grief his friend had carried. Now, it was back in full swing. Shuhei shook his head and put the note back on the table. He grabbed the coin purse, before leaving the room to return to his own.
I'll tell Renji in the morning, Shuhei thought, as he climbed into bed and fell asleep.
A.N. Hey all! Thank you for reading this. It means the world to me. If you want the full-blown explanation as to why this update is so inexcusably late, let me know. Otherwise, I'll just leave the explanation to "lost files, inaccessible data, and emotional break down." Yup, sums it up quite nicely, yeah? Anyway, REVIEW, because I like them :) And let me know if you have questions, something was unclear, or if I made a mistake somewhere. Thank you!