A/N: Thanks for the reviews and follows! Here's the second installment. I guess you could use the word angsty to describe this story, however that word always makes me think of my EMO stage where I was knee deep in hair dye and crying to Hawthorn Heights albums. More so, I try to explore emotional idiosyncrasies in my writing. Often, I find that Bleach can be emotionally shallow. (For instance, Ichigo stabbed his friend in the gut and was cool with it like 5 chapters later.) Um, no. War, trauma, seeing your friends die, especially for someone 17 years old, and even for soul reapers, will have some effects. It's just not realistic for it not to. That being said, I like to use my fan fiction to explore the emotional depths of these characters that we don't alway get to see other wise.
I'll respond to comments below.
Good vibes. ~Ashes.
xXx
In the Crepuscule, There We're Left Standing.
xXx
"How could something so fair
be so cruel?
When this black sun revolved
around you"
-DCFC
Rukia leaned lazily against Ichigo, her head dropped on his shoulder. The man too sat with idle movements, his head resting on the wall behind them. The two were situated on a bench outside Byakuya's room, and Rukia had somehow found it in herself to drift off to sleep. Ichigo was unsure how, for all of that manic worrisome seemed more than enough to keep her going until she found out the state of her brother. Not that he wasn't happy about it. Rukia hadn't shut her eyes since before the war started, and it now had been over for a full day and a half. Well, at least the battle was over. The war would never really be over.
He had to fight against his mind's inclination to drift towards thoughts that would only slow him. Images of his now deceased friend flooded his mind, and it seemed almost surreal. As if Renji was going to walk up to them at anytime in his goofy yet buoyant way. He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't. He couldn't allow the full gravity of this reality to sink into him and stew. Of course, he knew Renji was dead and accepted that as truth, but if he thought about what that really meant for more than five seconds, he was certain he'd break. Ichigo's strength, at the moment, was like a satin ribbon, all one had to do was pull softly at the edges of the fabric to completely undo the frail structure. Allowing himself to mourn Renji would yank the ribbon free and expose how impotent he truly felt.
Renji would never be there anymore. They'd never joke around. He'd never have the chance to get annoyed at the other's constantly overly enthusiastic zeal. Who was he going to do haphazards shenanigans with? Be a dope with? He'd do anything to get in a half - hearted, childish tat with his buddy, knowing they would be completely fine five seconds later. Yet that was out of reach to him, never to be grasped again. This feeling of losing people you care for, it's like putting notches in your soul to mark its evolution, similar to the way people put etches in their door frames to track a child's height. Renji, just another tally to signify and date the moment in which Ichigo's heart would forever be changed, if even just a little bit.
He felt so uncertain, alone and confused, grasping for the right answers, having absolutely no clue what to do. He was walking in the dark, too frightened to take a step forward or backwards, just knowing he'd stumble. Yet he couldn't sit dormant. People needed him, and honestly, right now he needed people to need him. It was the only thing that made sense. Protecting people, that was the one thing he knew for certain how to do. Pass that, he had no idea what life had in store for him or what he wanted to have in store for life. The idea of moving on, moving past the war and going home to a house that seemed just a little smaller, something about it felt awfully vacant and estranged. After this, the war, being a shinigami, nothing would ever feel so potent again. Was he just suppose to go back to the living world as if none of this ever happen?
Then again, wasn't that what he was suppose to do? Wasn't he human? Sometimes he honestly forgot.
To keep from stumbling, he took one step at a time, choosing to look at each situation as it came instead of dreading over a future that he was less than sure of. Byakuya's eyesight, that was something that could be dealt with. It was right in front of him. He could no longer help Renji, and he hated himself for that, but Byakuya, maybe there was something he could do. At the very least, he could help Rukia get through it.
Something about the situation painfully reminded Ichigo about his own struggles when he lost his powers and was hell bent on their return. Not being able to protect, the one thing that mattered most to Ichigo, left him feeling imbecilic. He felt as if his one true purpose had been poached from him, and he didn't even know how he was suppose to continue functioning as if he was just a normal human. He felt weak, useless. Yet, the gotei had been there and returned his powers. Byakuya had been there despite their past, and even in a small way, because of him, he once again held his true purpose within the palm of his hand.
Even though Byakuya had his powers, without his sight, how would he continue on? Surely, like Tosen, he too could adapt to fighting without his visual prowess, but how long would it take to get to a place where he was function and fighting normally? Just learning to do daily mundane task would be a gargantuan hurdle for the noble. He'd be like an infant learning how to redo everything, confused and reaching out for basic understanding. He'd need help, something Byakuya was all too prideful to admit to. It would take so much time just to crawl, stumbling and fighting for each wobbly step of the way. His whole life would change immensely, and he wouldn't be able to protect his world with his own two hands, but instead, he'd have to rely on the strength of others to do so. Worse, he'd be one of the ones who needed protecting.
For a man like Ichigo, a man who understood that single minded focus, who understood how lost one could be to the abject defeat of being powerless, the idea stung. Yet, even if Byakuya had to creep along at a snail's pace, battling for every rickety advance he made, the nobleman was never one to give up. Especially because Byakuya was anything but hopeless or defeated. Not even blindness could halt a man of his tenacity and perseverance, of that, Ichigo was certain. If anyone could overcome such a disability, it would be Byakuya Kuchiki. He would dominate it, figure out some way to make it his own.
Just like the gotei, like Byakuya, believed in him, he would believe in Byakuya. Even so, all of his empathy was with the man at this moment, because if anyone knew what it felt like to feel forceless and shaky under the weight of what it meant to rebuild one's self from scraps, it was Ichigo.
After what felt like an eternity, Isane came from Byakuya's room, softly closing the door behind her. Ichigo shook Rukia's shoulder, and the girl shifted suddenly, wiping her eyes with the balls of her fist as consciousness found her.
"Isane," Ichigo urged, forgoing formalities, "how's Byakuya?"
Rukia jolted up, practically jumping out of her seat as her eyes told Isane to explain.
With weary eyes, she informed, "He is fine. Without his vision, but fine."
Baffled, Rukia exclaimed, "I don't understand! Why can't you fix his sight?"
Ichigo looked just as incredulous with disbelief that the soul society of all places couldn't restore his sight. "Yeah! And what did you mean when you said just like Renji? What's going on?"
The healer gave a patient smile and node of the head. "I'll explain everything clearly. You see, Taichou Kuchiki-san and Fukutaichou Abarai-san were engaged in battle with Gerard Valkyrie. It was their combined efforts that took him out. When Kuchiki-san made the final blow, the two were sent flying off the side of the palace from a condensed reiryoku explosion.." She paused, letting the information be absorbed before she continued. "The barriers that usually separate the Seireitei and the palace run on a timing system, so while we turned them off, they'll always turn back on after a certain amount of time. It's a safety precaution. Though they take a while to build up to full strength, seeing as they gather reishi from the environment to form condensed barriers. When they were blown back, the combined reishi of the explosion and the barrier's that had started to reform, albeit weak in comparison to it's full power, covered the debris that was blown back with them." The healer paused once more, cringing at the trepidation in their eyes and the words she was about to say. "For Abarai-san, he was impaled by a stray beam. The beam was covered in such a potently dense amount of reishi that we were unable to heal the damage caused by it. Our powers could not push past such a concentrated amount of energy. Likewise, a similar thing happened to Kuchiki-san. It seemed glass particles from the debris logged themselves in his eyes and are blocking any light from entering his iris, because of the density of reishi surrounding them."
Both Rukia and Ichigo sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, ruminating over the healer's words. Rukia gaped painfully and Ichigo scowled with anger he tried to suppress.
"But..he can get better, right? Rukia asked, her voice sounding as if it was grasping onto the edge of hope. "The reishi will lose density over time, and he'll see once more, right?"
Isane's chest rose and fell in despondency. "It is a possibility, but i do not want to give you false hope. It's a rather slim chance your brother will ever see again."
With fingers clenched and nails digging into the palms of his hands, Ichigo suppressed a reaction he knew would help nothing. After all the man had sacrificed for the gotei, for all of his dedication and virtue, this is what he was left with? He was left in the dark, having even the most basic of abilities striped from him, cursed to a life of fumbling around and constant exertion just to regain the mastery to live and protect as he gave his whole life, his sight, to do.
"Well can we see him?" Rukia asked impatiently.
"He is resting right now. I believe the mental strain was enough to drain him. Along with the exertion from his injuries, he needs a great deal of rest." Clasping her hands together, Isane bowed her head only slightly. "I must tell you, I took the liberty of telling him about Abarai-san while explaining the events that lead to his blindness. I knew he was going to inquire anyway, and I think apart of him already knew. He's handling it all with grace and decorum..too much, if you ask me." Dispelling any type of clinical tonality, Isane frowned deeply. "This is very tragic, and I'm sorry for all the loses you'll have to endure".
The pair were both too shaken to find any words of response. There was nothing to say. Isane was simply reaching out, one broken soul to another, bestowing the only thing she could: her empathy.
As she went to take her leave, Ichigo looked up urgently, drawing her attention back in. "One more thing," he asked, "what about the colors in his eyes? What's that about?"
"Oh, right," Isane startled, turning back to face the two. "Well I explained the color change to him, but as for the reason why, I believe I should leave it up to you two to decide if he should know."
"What do you mean?" Rukia asked.
"Well think of it like radiation poisoning that can mutate the D.N.A. The glass dust went in through his eyes and some reached his bloodstream to only become intermingled with his spirit core. The particles are reacting to subtle fluctuations in his reiatsu, causing them to glow different colors depending on the energy given off. Meaning his eye's are changing colors based on his emotional state, or at least this is my theory."
"Like a mood ring?" Ichigo gaped
"Only much more accurate. Though, there's no exact way to tell which colors represent which emotion. This is my worry with telling him: this will be a life changing experience for him, learning to live again without his sight. It will also be quite frightening, I can imagine. For a man like Taichou-Kuchiki-san, whom it is no secret is reserved and composed about his feelings, I feel as if it will only dig the knife in deeper, knowing he can see nothing while he quite literally wears his emotions in his eyes for everyone else to see."
"Yeah," Ichigo agreed, "I can see that being hard for him to swallow."
"Isane-san," Rukia addressed softly, "I'd like to help with some healing while I'm waiting for my Nii-sama to awake."
"But Rukia," Ichigo argued, "you haven't gotten any real rest in days. You need to take care of yourself!"
"No. I need to be there for my comrades, Ichigo!" With a misty sadness pooling in her eyes, she assumed, "It's what my brother would want, especially since he can't do it himself."
Ichigo scoffed. "Somehow I don't think your brother would want you passing out from overexertion. Theres helping and then there's just being stupid."
"Ichigo," she sighed, standing up, "Renji's gone, Nii-sama may never fight again, I need something to do right now, something that doesn't make me feel so damn useless."
He gaped slightly at that, his voice almost cracking with disbelief. "Rukia...Byakuya will be fine, you have to believe that. He's always fin-"
"He is not fine!" Rukia snapped, gesturing an arm out at her surroundings. "Nothing is fine. I don't need you to coddle me or sugar coat things. Things are bad, really bad." Slowly, she let out a shuddered breath, closing her eyes and composing herself. "I can accept that and move forward, but pretending like everything isn't falling down around us isn't going to stop the walls from caving in. I don't have to lie to myself to keep from breaking down, because I'm much too strong for that."
Standing in urgency, Ichigo snapped back, "I'm not lying to myself! I know things won't be easy, but you can't honestly tell me that you think Byakuya of all people will just give up. He doesn't have it in him."
There was a stillness in Rukia's movements as she looked upon him with almost pitying eyes, eyes that made his skin crawl. "He's blind, Ichigo.." she whispered, her voice thick and weighed down by a wetness. "I know you always hope for the best, and that's admirable, but no amount of positivity can just magically make that better." After a brief moment of mutely sharing gazes, each feeling almost dejected and strained, Rukia turned to Isane. "Let's go, and Ichigo," she turned back to the hazed out man, "I know the Sōtaichō is expecting you. You should probably go see him soon, but if you end up leaving Soul Society," she smiled, "come say goodbye first, loser."
With a sad smile, he nodded. "Right."
xXx
As consciousness began to find him, Byakuya dreaded to open his eyes. Yet, just to confirm that it hadn't all been some macabre dream, he did such. To his dismay, yet expectation, he found himself submerged in darkness. He was trapped, a prisoner to the dark with nowhere to escape too.
He was swimming it the void, but all he wanted to do was drown in it.
Though he supposed he was in some state of shock, that the realizations of the battle's casualties hadn't truly sank in. However, though he felt childish and self loathing for the fact, he was frightened. Never one to back away from the veil of night, now that it embraced him like an unremovable cloak, his hands trembled and his heart fluttered slightly with the presence of fear.
There was no enemy to beat. The inescapable truth of his mutilation was nothings his petals could cut through. He was now purposeless, no longer able to use his powers with any mark of accuracy or effectiveness. He wouldn't even be able to do simple task without the aid of another person, constantly needing to be supervised and assisted like an imbecilic toddler. Even his noble duties would acquire overseeing and facilitation.
Dead would have been preferential to such a loss of pride. What kind of captain or house head would he be while in this state? And to be coddled, having everyone slow down just so he could keep up, everyone idling themselves to abed a handicapped ineffectual man as himself, all because they didn't have the heart to throw him aside like the worthless relic he now was, that would kill any part of himself that still thrived within.
They'd pity him, point and gawk as they saw him in the streets. There would be whispers filling the milieu of the gotei about how sorry they felt for the once viral captain. Just for show, they'd allow him to keep his position, but all real responsibility would fall to someone else, someone competent. Yet, all because they couldn't look at themselves in the mirror otherwise, they'd keep him around. They'd keep him around in the way people kept around old birthday cards that they felt too guilty to dispose of, despite how they only succeeded in taking up precious space. People would boast about their compassion and pat themselves on the back, feeling prideful in the way they put themselves out while truly only being inconvenienced by his continued presence.
That wasn't compassion, that was selfishness. The only compassion lied in letting the man slink away into solitude, leaving him be with his last shred of self respect and unbothered by their oh so thoughtful concern. Compassion would be brutal honesty with themselves and him, the acknowledgment that his existence was abortive and only brought others struggles.
Even though he knew no one would say such, Byakuya understood the truth. He'd bring nothing but shame to his squad and his house. The lamentable damaged prince, just an artifact of a once tenacious leader for people to look upon with rue, if they even had the gut to look at all. For certain, once the novelty ran out and his personal pain was no longer the flavor of the week, the masquerading care would run dry. He'd eventually be forgotten, but not soon enough, in Byakuya's opinion.
He should've stayed under that rubble and allowed the water to fill his lungs, forever preserving him as the man he was, not the burden he's became.
It should have been him, not Renji or the other's that more than likely expired as a result of the blast, the blast he caused. Though these brave soldiers died with honor, doing exactly what they gave their whole lives to do, if someone had to survive, what made him so worthy? Was this suppose to be some gift or just the cruelty of the chaotic and random world they lived in?
Why did he survive and they did not, only to be a feckless fragment of the war? There was no reason, no sense to be found in this asinine hell he'd have to endure. Living on with the knowledge everyone had died as a result of his attack, this would be the memory, his last act of any use, that accompanied him in the dark.
If there was a life that should've been spared, it should've been that of Renji's. A man who was jovial and full of fire, who had so much potential, whose bright light and enduring heart drew everyone to him. A man with many friends and people to care rather he lived or died, he deserved the life that Byakuya had been granted. He would've made so much more of it than Byakuya, a reclusively, cold man who outlived his purpose, ever would have.
'Please master, do not think like this,' Senbonzakura pleaded, a thick relentless sorrow riddling the spirits voice.
"Leave me, Senbonzakura," Byakuya demanded. "I do not deserve your compassion."
'How can you say that!? Master, you lost your vision giving everything to the war.'
"A war I should have died in," he snapped, though his voice still staying within the range of his usual stoicism. "It is not because I lose my vision that I do not deserve your compassion, but because I am now useless to you and all of those around me. I can no longer wield you in the manner of which you deserve, Senbonzakura."
'I do not believe it will be this way forever, Master, and if it is,' he gave an apprehensive pause, so be it! Your fighting prowess is not the only place in where your pride lies.'
With all the patience he could muster, the nobleman let out a sigh. "Leave me be...please."
The fragility behind his master's voice made the sword spirit shiver, his core freezing slightly at Byakuya's despondency.
It was decided. After things settled, Byakuya would approach the elders about assigning him a regent - someone who acted temporarily in the place of a sovereign who was deemed incapable of holding the position - while Byakuya retreated to one of their private vacation estates within the soul society to live out the rest of his days in isolation. If he must live this unbearable life, he'd do so while burdening others as minimal as possible. Of course, he'd bed a house concubine, that way the elders would have their pure blooded heir. It was the least he could do after causing his family such shame and trouble over the years, and this way, he'd escape with as much of his dignity as he could salvage.
He'd say a couple of painless short goodbyes, handle his affairs, and he'd be gone with the sakura.
Leaning his head back and resigning to more sleep, a familiar presence had him turning his unseeing eye's towards the open doorway of his hospital room. "Kurosaki Ichigo," he said, fighting the urge to turn his head away in shame. He didn't want the man to see him like this, so weak and pitiful. Yet he was a man of enduring decorum and stature, and therefore, he would hold himself as such.
Feeling slightly unnerved, Ichigo ambled into the room with no particular hast. He didn't really know what to say, but he knew that he wanted to say something. Perhaps just let the noble know he was there for him, if that meant anything at all. Maybe give the man some reassurance, some encouragement, just someone to talk to. Yet, as he stood there perched in the doorway, he realized there were no words. He realized that there was nothing he could do, and that Rukia was right, his blind optimism wouldn't heal Byakuya. He realized that the two weren't even friends and all his presence would accomplish was make Byakuya feel pitied and small.
But that wasn't why Ichigo was there. It wasn't because he felt obligated or to attempt trite words that would help nothing in the end. The two had shared a bond for a long time, albeit silent and distant. It was a bond that never needed words. When you go through the things these two had, fought against each other, grew because of each other, battled beside one another, for one another, faced death together, lost people you care for together, there were invisible tethers that bind you. One's that don't need verbal recognition, because they could feel them being tugged whenever they stood in the presence of one another. It was a mute understanding, but perhaps, it didn't have to be so voiceless anymore.
Maybe the two weren't close or friends, but the experiences that allied them made them so much more, something undefinable. Therefore, Ichigo wanted to be there, to talk to his once enemy, if only to show that he truly cared and how courageous he found Byakuya to be. It wasn't much, but at the moment, it was all he had.
Even so, as he stood there, staring helplessly at Byakuya's smoldering coals filled with almost translucent blue specks, he falter. These oculars looked like mini galaxies, spiraling cosmos that stretched into an amaranthine abyss. Sparkling and demanding attention, his eye's were as haunting as they were beautiful, for their sadness seemed to shoot into his soul at the speed of light. It was akin to the wonderment one felt, yet sorrowful resignation of how small they truly were when they looked upon the heavens.
'Is this sadness..They make me feel..almost sad.'
Knowing he needed to say something, Ichigo said the first thing that came to mind. "That's uh..a cool trick you have there. How'd you know it was me?"
Byakuya wanted to sigh out loud, but yielded. This had been happening throughout the day, people faltering at the sight of him. He supposed it had something to do with the change of his eyes, the colors that now resided in them. Orihime mention in one of her rounds that they were "beautiful", and though he knew she was trying to give him comfort, that fact wasn't something that gave him any solace. He was not a spectacle, some circus act to be gawked at, and every time someone was hard pressed to find words in front of him, it only made him that much more aware of how different he now was.
"Do you know what else is a cool trick," he smoothly mocked, "sensing reiatsu."
Moving across the room, Ichigo chuckled somewhat awkwardly at that. "I can see you're doing better already. If you weren't ridiculing me, that I'd be afraid of."
Hearing the labor of movements, the flopping of waraji, and the scuffing noise of a chair being situated, Byakuya could tell Ichigo was now sitting at his bedside. "Perish the thought," Byakuya rebutted dryly. "Is there a reason for your presence here, Kurosaki Ichigo?"
"I'm suppose to be meeting with Kyoraku-san, but he's busy right now, and I..well, I just wanted to see how you were doing." Something in the man's voice betrayed his lack of confidence, as if he knew that wasn't the right thing to say. It was easy to tell, even without Byakuya's sight.
Truthfully, of all the people who could be here lavishing him with their pity, it stung the most coming from this man. Once already, he thought Ichigo had seen him at his worst, broken and breaths away from death, imploring the man to protect all the things he was too weak to. No. This was much worse. The two were not close, so it was apparent Ichigo was only here out of obligation.
Yet, before anything scathing could come from him, Ichigo's next words caught him off guard. "I know you're probably thinking I'm here because I'd feel guilty otherwise, and I'll admit, It wouldn't be the first time I've done something solely because it was what seemed right at the time." He hesitated briefly before he spoke again. This time, Byakuya could hear the resolve resonating from him. "But that's not the case with this. I care about you, that's why I'm here."
Lively emerald specks had returned once again as Byakuya looked at Ichigo for a silent moment. It truly did feel like such an invasion of privacy, because despite the noble's face holding the same cold and unmovable features as they always had, it was as if the emotions behind the hues just emanated. He couldn't be sure, but something told him that green meant curiosity.
Though, much like the man Ichigo was habituated to, Byakuya continued without hesitation. "I see. And what of this conversation with the Sōtaichō? Will you be leaving to the world of the living after this?"
Unable to contain it, Ichigo felt a sting of insult at the man's words. "What? You can't actually still be thinking I don't belong here after all of this? Damn, what's a guy gotta d..o.." His sentence trailed off as he saw that blue return with a vengeance, highlighting the flint features with a melancholy that sat behind them.
"You misunderstand me," Byakuya clarified. "Surely you have earned a home within all three worlds, and you belong anywhere you deem fit." In the silence of Ichigo's bewilderment, Byakuya contemplated what was sitting eagerly on the tip of his tongue. It was so unlike him to be barefaced and without pretenses, yet soon he'd be gone, and it all seemed so pointless now. This man was the savior of their worlds, inflicted with his own great struggles and pains to surmount. Seeing as Byakuya had full intentions in retreating to a family estate and would more than likely never speak to Ichigo again, the least he could offer was his earnest advice. For Byakuya had little purpose these days, and if he could make Ichigo's life a bit easier, perhaps he'd feel a scintilla of use. "More so, it is what I believe you deserve that is in question. After all of the sacrifices you've made, do you not deserve a bit of normalcy?"
Ichigo seemed to sit on this for a while. He was puzzled by the concern, yet tried not to concentrate on that aspect. "Normalcy, huh?" he said, the words sounding gritty and of a man much older. "I don't see how anything could ever be normal again."
Ichigo was right, for that Byakuya knew. Neither for himself or the rest of the gotei would things simply ever go back to the way they once were. Still they had to try.
"Besides," Ichigo continued, "I'm needed here. There are more repairs than there are people, and my comrades, Rukia, I want to help protect them."
"Rukia does not need your protection," Byakuya sniffed, "she needs you to be there for her. Trust there is a difference." Ichigo looked on with netted brows, not sure what Byakuya was saying, and as if he gauged the silence accordingly, Byakuya explained, "Protecting others is to take on their burdens as your own, to be there for others is to share in those burdens."
"Yeah." Ichigo gave a pitiful chuckle. "I guess you're right. I've just never been too good at the latter."
"You are learning," Byakuya offered. "One does not grow in an instant, but little by little."
"It's harder for Rukia," Ichigo admitted. "She's always keeping everything inside. Heh," he grunted, running a hand through his grimy tresses, thinking he hadn't even slowed down enough to take a proper bath. "She's always the first to give me a swift smack to the head if she catches me sympathizing with my sadness."
Blue grew wilder and vast in Byakuya's eyes. "I can not say this surprises me. Rukia's life in Inuzuri thought her to harden herself, and this lesson was only solidified by being taken into my clan. She does not open her heart to many, and therefore, she is guarded yet strong." A pause. "However, this is not always a good trait. Emotions become the most burdensome when you hold them only to yourself, allow them to suffocate you. Admittedly, this is a trait I share with my sister, and good or bad, it is not something I can see changing about myself easily, if at all. This is the way we were raised and perhaps the only way we know how to survive. Even so, I can see the purpose within relieving one's self of these troubled feelings, sharing them with others. It lightens your heart and allows you to move more freely, along with having a greater empathy for those around you. This is the essence of being human."
Marveling at the sentiments being so eloquently expressed, Ichigo gave Byakuya an almost wistful look. He'd never seen this part of the man, and if not for the war and his blindness, he probably never would have.
The sincerity coming from such a veiled guy prompted a surprising amount of honesty on his part. For whatever reason, Ichigo felt safe if not completely compelled to do so. "I've lived in the same place for most of my life, but there was one other place I lived with my parents when I was really young. Actually, it was one of my first memories." Nostalgically and with a smile in his voice, he recalled, "My mom, she was always the sentimental type. When we moved out and we were leaving for the final time, I remember holding her hand and walking room to room. Each room, we'd shut off the light and say good bye. It felt.." he struggled for the right word, "scary. Scary and sad. I guess as a kid, it was all I was use to, and for it to be over in a flash, only to have'ta move forward, I didn't even get how you do that." With a long sigh, Ichigo steadied his voice that seemed to be shaking slightly. "That's what it felt like when I could feel everyone's reiatsu vanishing around me. Their lives were just turned off in a flash, like light switch being pushed down. There was nothing I could do, and now I'm just suppose to go on to this new life." Slumping back in his chair, feeling a sweeping defeat, Ichigo said, "I don't even know how to do that."
"But do you not owe yourself to try?" asked Byakuya tenderly. "You have all the time in the world to be a shinigami. In fact, if you returned home and found yourself still wanting a place within the Gotei, I'm certain you'd be welcomed with open arms." With almost a hint of humor in his tone, Byakuya speculated, "For you, I am sure they would bring out the entirety of the Seireitei as a welcoming comity." Ichigo smiled softly at this as Byakuya continued. "However such a luxury is not a given with your human life. It is merely a blink in time, and once you leave, you can not simply go back."
With his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap, Ichigo felt contemplative. It had been so long since things had been "normal", that he found it a chore to think back on those times with any amount of clarity. Yet he tried. "That life would always be a lie though. There'd always be secrets. Even before all of this," he admitted, surprised at how easy he found his candor to be, "sometimes I just felt like I was coasting through. I just kind've existed without any plan, only knowing what step I would take right before I took it. After all of this, I don't know if I could do anything that I'd feel this attached to."
With all the patience that defined the Kuchiki noble, Byakuya gave an empathetic node of the head. "I understand. However, I have no doubt you'll figure out exactly what you want to do once you give it thought. With experience comes growth and self exploration. You need to evaluate these parts of you and give yourself time to become accustomed to your new perspective, whatever it might be. But these things do take time." A fierce blood orange pierced the space between them, giving an edge to the man's voice. "Shinigamis, we can not do the things humans can, nor can we even express the emotions we feel as they do. In the end, you will chose what is best for you, but do not waste such a blessing on a whim."
Though his voice betrayed little, it was not lost on Ichigo that the noble was all but pleading. It was the spark in his eyes. It then dawned on Ichigo that Byakuya cared for him too. When had they gotten to this place? Softer and with a touch of amusement, he asked, "Is that a suggestion or a command, Byakuya?"
Such a whimsical, rich gold unlike any other filled the noble's eyes, making them look like precious jewels perched within the sockets. Ichigo decided that was his favorite change so far. "As If I'd be delusional enough to think anyone could command you to do anything."
A warm smile formed on Ichigo's thoughtful face. As it mellowed, the lingering effects could be heard in his words. "We've never talked like this before, or much at all, really. It's nice."
"Yes," Byakuya agreed, the gold dimming into a sunny yellow. "Perhaps it takes such tragic events to realize what's worth putting into words and what is not. Such pretenses seem a bit trivial at this point."
"We should..do it again," said Ichigo, his eye shifting.
"Now you are pushing it," teased the raven.
"Pushing limits is kind've my thing." Ichigo laughed, the reaction sounding as odd as it felt to know Byakuya Kuchiki was the cause of it. None the less, this was the first time he laughed in days, days filled to the brim with enough tragedy and emotional tumult to make such few hours feel like the haul of years dragging slowly. It felt almost inconceivable that such drastic change could happen over the course of a couple of sunsets, that as the evening tide sun adumbrated the crimson quenched soil of this land and said it's goodbye in the same manner it had for all of time past and as it will continue to do for all the time to come, it was otherworldly to see how much things had changed, yet didn't at the same time. Ichigo supposed he was just happy that not all of these developments were grimly severe. With so many loses, one had to count the little things for the sake of their own sanity.
A hush fell over the noble that enveloped his whole body. His limbs dared not move as he shut his eyes in the face of his stirring thoughts, and he only hoped Ichigo hadn't seen the flashes of memories that projected over his features. "For my part in your trouble, I am truly sorry. Words mean little, and they can not revive the innocence of your soul. Yet such is all I have to offer, this and my gratitude. The Gotei, we have failed our people. I have failed my people, but mostly, I failed you. Because of my shortcomings, I had to ask you to protect this world, something I'm sure you would have done without prompting, but none the less, that burden should not have fallen so steeply onto your shoulders. For my weakness, I apol-"
"I don't want to hear that crap," Ichigo growled, as his jaw locked and his fist clenched from memories of the battle filling his mind, the sound of shattering bones and the putrid smell of blood making the flashback feel too authentic. "Weak, you say?" he asked rhetorically, every syllable being delivered from the edge of his temper. Unabashed emerald grey swirls of beauty starred in his direction, only succeeding to oxidize Ichigo's inward flame, just reminding Ichigo of what this man had given up to the war. "They don't make 'em much stronger than you, Byakuya. Other than As Nodt and that day on Sokyoku hill, how many battles have you really lost? And your fight with me doesn't even count, because I've always thought that you never really wanted to win it. Those cowards, they fucking cheated." He tutted, tugging at his hair in frustration. "All's fair in war? Bull shit! To a shinigami, honor means something. To come into your home and start murdering innocent people unprompted, only to take away your greatest power, well, maybe it makes 'em slyer, you could even say it makes them smarter, but what it damn sure doesn't make them is stronger." Scoffing, he reasoned metaphorically, "If they were so strong, they wouldn't have to break your leg just so they'd have one to stand on."
Flashes. Light bulb flickers of images switching on and off at rapid speeds ravished Ichigo's mind. Byakuya's body used to carve out a chasm in a stone edifice, the tattered skin and blood matted fabric fusing into one huge gory obscurity, making the edges of Byakuya's body undefinable, the starts and the ends all blending. All of his life seeping out and pooling around him, the broken man was the personification of death. At the sight of Byakuya, the look of absolute regret and dishonor morphing his eyes into pure pungent onyx, Ichigo fumed with murderous impulses. Yet the spark of hope - not for himself, but for his world - that ignited in those downcast eyes as Byakuya took in Ichigo's arrival had the young soul reaper calming an impending explosion boiling within despite wanting to allow his hate to spew over like a geyser. Knowing Byakuya would die, and die alone and ashamed, he felt his soul curdle and hiss with a need to destroy whomever was responsible. There was only enough time to give the man the peace of knowing his world would be protected, leaving Ichigo to assume the noble expired with such a notion, his last thoughts ones of undeserved self loathing. It had been almost too much to bare.
The scarring imagery made Ichigo's hands shake with residual furry, and he grew red in the face. "The strength of anyone isn't in how many battles they lose or win, but their resolve to keep getting back up," he admonished as Byakuya looked on unruffled by the outburst, yet intently taking in every tremblingly spoken words. "Out of all those dead, the Zero squad chose you to heal." Clutching at the itchy cloth of Byakuya's blanket, Ichigo implored, "Don't take that lightly. So I don't want to hear this bull shit about how you're weak or your apologies." Sucking in a sharp breath, it tumbled from his lungs with all the stability of a landslide. Rasping and breathless, Ichigo's words had a pleading conviction. "Please, don't say that. Listening to them once was hard enough, so I don't want to hear them again, because their not true."
The quaking of Ichigo's hands and the jittering of his voice vibrated through the nobleman, making it perfectly limpid how distraught the memories and words made the younger man. It wasn't stunning, for Ichigo had always had an all enduring empathy, getting outraged for people's sake as if their feelings were his own. Without even needing to think about it, as if it was a habit, Byakuya's soft and gentle touch glided over Ichigo's, the chill of his fingers almost searing against the torrid hand of the other.
No matter how Byakuya felt about himself, Ichigo's words and the intensity of his sincerity comforted him in ineffable ways. Not only had Ichigo saved their world in a manner no one else was capable of, but even through his own agony, here he was, offering his unique encouragement without the jaundicing presence of pity. If his fevered vehemence showed anything, it was that Ichigo believed those sentiments without halt, and in his own way, he meant it when he said he cared for the noble.
Perhaps Ichigo was right, but the harshness of self scrutiny was something integral to Byakuya. He couldn't just simply maroon a thought process he'd been conditioned to believe his whole life, even if he saw the logic behind Ichigo's judgment. None the less, this moment was analeptic for Byakuya's soul, and just maybe, he could exile himself with a certain degree of tranquility.
Byakuya's crisply tender palm releasing a calming energy into him made Ichigo's eyes shoot up and soften almost immediately. A subtly warmhearted yellow danced in Byakuya's eyes, zapping away any trace of anger Ichigo had. "For the man who kept such an imposing promise to me, I can do this."
"Yeah, but you're probably still thinking it. Stubborn bastard," murmured Ichigo.
Fighting the smile that desperately tugged at the crevices of his lips, Byakuya said, "What was it you said, it takes one to know one?"
Sighing, Ichigo clasped his free hand atop Byakuya's, sandwiching it with his warmness. He then laid his forehead on his own hand, as if basking in the tangibility of Byakuya's life and the relief that it brought him. It made sense, Byakuya thought. Ichigo took all lose of life under his watch personally, as if he failed every fallen soldier and their deaths merely added to the invisible weight that hung around the man's shoulders. Knowing Byakuya was alive, it probably lightened the heaviness of his own guilt, if even just a little. If there was any reason Byakuya had to be happy about surviving the war, it was this realization. "I'm sorry for getting all upset. I was just..so angry seeing you like that, saying those things. So angry I had to flash out of there so I could tear into the guy responsible. You didn't deserve to go out that way. If you go out, it should be with your head held high."
"I'm uncertain if anyone truly dies in the manner of which they deserve," Byakuya poised, his head dipped humbly.
Looking up to the noble through floaty eyes, Ichigo ask tentatively, "Like Renji?"
At the name, something shriveled and recoiled inside of Byakuya, making him once again turn his gaze of fear that his weakness would be palpable. "Renji, his death was honorable. Nothing is more honorable than dying for the protection of others. However, just?" He inhaled, gathering strength to make his voice sound less meek than it was. "There's no such thing in war. If that were so, a young, good - willed man as yourself wouldn't be cursed to carry such a heavy heart and Renji would be alive."
"And you would have your vision.." Ichigo added, clenching his hands tighter as if the touch anchored him.
Byakuya nodded. "Yes."
"Sometimes it feels like we lost the war," Ichigo admitted, though he was unclear as to why. It was just something to get off his chest, and he expect no real response, especially the one he received.
"There are no winners or losers in war, Kurosaki," Byakuya explained wisely, "only the ones left alive. Yet, that is us, we are the ones still standing." Slipping his hand away, he cringed inwardly at the lose of that radiant heat and how it left his hand now feeling oddly wrong. "That means something, so make the very best of it."
Something about the words resonated with the younger man, making him take them to heart. "I will," Ichigo reassured.
"And one more thing," Byakuya confessed, "You were correct. I believe in my heart of hearts, I did not want to win that day." It was not an easy statement for Byakuya to put into words, but he had his reasons.
A mystified expression morphed into an impish smirk before Ichigo quipped, "Are you sure you didn't hit your head in that fall? You, the great Kuchiki Byakuya, is actually admitting that I was right?"
"Do not get so cocky, boy. I am only affirming this, so I can spar you and prove my superiority once and for all." It was a lie, and Byakuya was sure even Ichigo knew that much, but to what depth he was misrepresenting himself, the younger man didn't yet grasp.
Hearing that filled Ichigo with a renewed hopefulness. Not that he doubted the noble for a moment, but hearing Byakuya sound so confident, so much like his old self, it reassured him that, one day, everything would be okay. Standing from his seat, Ichigo chuckled, "Any time. It's nice to see you haven't lost your edge." Bringing his hand to Byakuya's shoulder, he let it hover in a certain nervousness he could not explain. Finally, he clasped it down on the other's lithe yet strong blade, making the raven look up towards Ichigo as if he really saw him. "I should probably get going. I'm sure I got on your nerves enough for one day. I'll see you around, Byakuya," he stated, as if it was an obvious fact of life.
The return of that crestfallen blue made Ichigo frown, if not shiver a bit. Somewhat cryptically, Byakuya said, "You have many great things ahead of you, Kurosaki Ichigo."
The finality in those words made Ichigo falter, his chest twisting uncomfortably. Something about them sounded like a good bye, and that Ichigo did not enjoy. He didn't enjoy it at all. Yet, knowing there was little he could say at the moment, and that he was close to running late for his meeting, he simply walked towards the door. When he reached the archway, before he took that final step out, his back taunted and he found himself saying, "And you'll be there to see them all."
Hearing the swift gust of wind that signaled a flash step, Byakuya let a small frown mare his face. To himself, he said, "I almost wish that were true, Ichigo."
xXx
Shunsui Kyoraku sat slackly in the captain's quarters of the first division, holding his sake glass in a delicate grasp. His gaze was directed out a window that gave way to a panorama of raw destruction. In the decimated buildings and cracked foundations, the captain tried to find something to take from it, some vestige of morale he could pluck from the cornucopia of rubble and death to instill in his people. Perhaps there was some lesson to be learned in all of this senselessness. In the end, the only blooming gospel to be yielded was the continuous of their worlds. Indubitably, the truth of being a shinigami is that one must be willing to give up their lives or worse, the lives of the ones they love. Every lose of life was integral and virtuous in its occurrence. However, why they had to do such a thing, why one deranged, power hungry monster who knew nothing of the value of life chose to lay ruin to their homes, he could never comprehend. Kami help him if he did.
He wished there was more he could come up with, something that would fully express the weight behind these loses, but there were no words. He'd given up that fruitless thought process around drink four, and now on his seventh refill, his glossy, strained eyes stared blankly. The thrumming of rain washing away the stains of battle consoled him as it's onslaught echoed in the hauntingly hushed enclosure.
From a day of delegating and damage control, the new commander felt barely above water. His head tingled numbly from the constantly replenished list of duties. In fact, the man simply went from task to task, one crisis at a time. When there's a mountain of obligations the size of Hueco Mundo encumbering your way, the quickest most effective path was not clearly marked. If anything, the boundless amount of presented problems often left you overwhelmed with how to start, lost and broken down on the side of the road. So he made one step at a time, for his steps guided a whole body of compatriots. He couldn't let them down while they were looking towards him for leadership, and for every trouble to be solved came a new thought to add to his continuously spinning wheel of maelstrom capturing his mind.
For a while, instead of drowning in his distress, he decided to drown in some sake.
A light knocking grasped Shunsui's attention to his opened doorway. Leaning against a monogamy frame was Ichigo, giving the commander a careful look. "Sorry to crash the party, Nanao-san told me to just come in."
"Ah! Kurosaki," the elder greeted while he took off his hat and sat it on his desk, "in the lair of Kyoraku, such formalities are relaxed."
As Ichigo glided over, he noticed the forced smile and blanched complexion of the man. Eyeing Shunsui's drink, he said, "I can see that."
Pressing his lips to the edge of his cup, the captain remarked, "Now Kurosaki, you're not going to mother hen me, right?" before taking a sizable gulp of the burning liquid.
Taking a seat, he let his posture match that of the captain's, mirroring his droopiness. "Nah. With Nanao-san, I think you have enough of that coming your way. If there ever was a day to drink, It be today." After a brief pause and a smirk, he added, "Besides, drinking's kind've your thing, so Central knew what they were getting into when they appointed you."
Shunsui gave a dry chuckle, sounding almost as bitter as the alcohol tasted. "Just shows those bastards were desperate."
More seriously, Ichigo reasoned, "You were the best choice, hands down." Clearing his throat, Ichigo stumbled into his next sentence. "Um, I heard about Ukitake-san," he said barely over a whisper. "How is he?"
"Jyuushiro."
"What?" asked Ichigo.
Spinning his flower engraved glass, Shunsui smiled into the liquid. "I think he'd like it if you called him Jyuushiro. Ju always worried himself for you like a mother worries for his kids, so I think he'd like that."
A soft smile touched Ichigo's lips. "Jyuushiro then, how is he?"
Still looking down, the commander said, "He's still in a comma. They don't know if he'll ever wake up." Blinking a few times, he lifted his face and a toothy gape pulled at his aged features. "I'm not worried though, Ju once slept for two whole days. He's probably just taking a long cat nap, working on his beauty rest."
With a nod, Ichigo fought back the tears that glistened in his eyes. "Yeah, for sure," he agreed. "He's gotta wake up, who would follow you around and make sure you don't run into things in your drunken stupors? Jushiro would never slide out on his duty like that."
"They did say improbable, not impossible." As if almost to convince himself, he nodded a couple of times and stated, "He's going to wake up."
"If these last couple of years taught me anything, it's that improbable does happen," comforted Ichigo. Next, he grabbed the nape of his neck nervously, not really sure he wanted an answer to what he was about to ask. "So, uhm.." Running his flat palm across his face, Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, gathering himself. "Fuck," he sighed, "look, I want you to give it to me straight, who's all..who's all dead or critical? I don't want to keep finding out over and over again, I rather just know all at once. I already know about Renji and gramps, of course."
At the clanking of a sake cup hitting wood, Ichigo looked up. With steady hands that seemed those of a sober man, the commander poured a glass. Sliding it over to the younger man, his gaze met Ichigo's confused one. "I figured you'd want a drink for this," he answered the silent question.
"That's comforting," Ichigo rebutted dryly.
Nudging the glass a little closer, the commander said, "It sure is, all right. Once you get past the burning, that is."
Dubiously, Ichigo eye'd the liquor before picking the cup up by the rim and swirling it a bit. As he watched the beverage swash around, he shrugged his shoulder and said, "Screw it, why now?" With one flick of the wrist and one valiant gulp, Ichigo choked it all down, a harsh taste washing over his tongue, leaving a blistering path in it's wake as he felt the liquor flow down his throat and to his chest until it settled in his gut. His face twisted into a grimace, and he coughed violently.
The commander seemed to get a good laugh at the heaving man while he took a sip of his own drink and let Ichigo's fit pass. "You don't drink often, I presume."
He wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand, only to reveal a scowl. "I'm seventeen," he tutted and rolled his eyes, "somehow I missed it between classes and battling to the death."
Simpering, the commander's eyes filled with an unidentified emotion that looked akin to guilt. "Right, I forget sometimes you're just a kid," he defended before downing the rest of his drink in one motion.
"Me too," Ichigo said.
Replenishing both his and Ichigo's glass, he advised, "Here's a tip, sip don't swallow. It' not a race, friend."
Ichigo simply nodded as his fingers found their way to the cold, flat surface. He took a couple of experimental sips and savored the sweeter undertones of the drink he'd missed in his earlier hast. Kyoraku had been correct, once the burning faded, the balmy liquid left behind a tepid fuzziness that seeped through his body slowly, relaxing his worked up muscles. "So," he prompted.
Getting right to it, the commander said, "Mostly unseated officers that you've never heard of." Visibly cringing, he said, "Over a thousand fell in battle."
Ichigo winced at the number. He knew it had to be large, but hearing it out loud made it feel so real, so unsurmountable.
"Then," he continued meekly, "most of the people in the area of Gerard Valkyrie when he was defeated by Kuchiki-san. There was a blast and…" he sighed, "Most of the visored were killed in the blast. Hirako Taichou-san, Hachigen-san, Lisa-san were killed there. Muguruma Taichou-san and Rose Taichou-san, they fell also." Gauging Ichigo's reaction, he saw the man clenching to the wooden arm of the chair for dear life and one of his legs shaking compulsively, but he held himself well. When he nodded to tell the commander to continue, he did. "Ayasegawa go-seki, Hanataro san-seki, Hisagi-fukutaichou, Nemu- fukutaichou, plus a number of seated officers."
A sobering silence followed as the commander took in Ichigo's flushed face dipped towards his lap. He could see the young man was trying to process it all, swallow it down along with his grief. A tear escaped him and glided down his cheek, one of which Ichigo wiped away. He nodded his head in acceptance before sinking deeper into his chair. After another moment, he finally said, sounding cracked and damaged, "That really sucks."
"Yeah, it does," the commander agreed. They each pressed their sake cups to their lips.
"What about funerals for all of those people?" asked Ichigo.
"We usually practice ceremonial funeral pyre. However, there are just too many to hold this where we normally would," he explained gravely. With his pointer and thumb, the man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could hold the actual cremating on Sokyoku Hill and we'll have a remembrance below. I'll encourage individuals to have their own vigils. With so many deaths, not everyone will get the recognition they deserve."
Ichigo shook his head to show he understood while taking a deep breath. Everything inside of himself felt like it was constricting, as if his internal space was shrinking by the second and his organs were all packed tightly, ready to burst at any moment. Still he held it together, he had too. "And what about Ishida? Where's he at?"
"Don't worry about your friend, Kurosaki. He's safe and sound in our nicest prison cell." Already predicting the inception of a heated tangent, the commander took the liberty to explain. "By his own choice. I'm aware of his place in the war and the position he was in. It's more of his way of showing good faith, just until this all settles." Cocking an eyebrow, he concluded, "This may come as a surprise, but this isn't exactly a safe place to be a Quincy right now." Seeing Ichigo's troubled expression, he added, "present company excluded. I've even heard murmurs that shinigamis want to invade the Lichtreich to eradicate all surviving Quincy's and their descendants, powers or not. We're not ready for him to leave, and he's not ready to leave either. I think he needs time to figure it out. His powers are not limited, and he can leave the cell at anytime."
"So that bastards hiding, is that it?" Ichigo challenged.
"Cut the kid some slack," the elder laughed. "He does have a whole kingdom to consider, since, ya know, he's the rightful heir to the Quincy thrown. He's not just living for himself anymore."
"That's what started this war, right, the eradication of most living Quinces all those years ago? You're not actually considering repeating this?!"
"Yes," the commander confirmed, "that was the cause. Things were different back then. The Quinces were putting the entire world at danger because their techniques are centered around killing hallows. The balance of souls were becoming dangerous and they refused to listen to reason. When your options are kill off a race of people or let the whole world perish, the decision is already made for you."
"I get that," Ichigo said, "but with Ishida, you're hoping he'll change their ways?"
"I have to hope for this," he confessed. "The last thing I want is more bloodshed, but I won't allow a threat like that to roam free." With a seriousness he rarely conveyed, the commander said, "Not after what happened here." With a more lighthearted expression, the commander reasoned, "Ah, but Ishida-san is a smart man. His logic will supersede that Quincy pride now that Yhwach's influence is out of the way."
"You don't have to worry about Ishida," affirmed Ichigo. "He's a pain in the ass, but he'll do the right thing."
Running a finger around the rim of his glass, Shunsui questioned, "Now, any more questions before we talk about the real reason for you being here?"
"Yes," Ichigo confirmed confidently, "I want to make sure you're not planning to take away Byakuya's position."
A baffled glare quickly turned into a playful smirk. "My, I didn't know you were rubbing elbows with our Bya-kun."
Ichigo scoffed. "He'd kill you if he heard you call him that, and he's my friend." Putting on an offended scowl, he asked, "Is that a problem?"
Pursing his lips, Shunsui hide their curl behind his sake glass. "No, just..unexpected." Taking a sip and then placing the cup down, he explained, "I honestly haven't had time to think that far ahead yet. I don't know what's going to happen. Taichou, they do paper work, train, delegate, along with individual field assignments, which I'm sure will be in high frequency after Yhwach jumbled up the forces that be. Tosen use to do the training himself and have his lieutenant handle the paperwork, but he was a different case. Trainings certainly out right now. Someone could help with his paperwork, but for all the effort, that person might as well just do the paperwork themselves. Brails an option, but even that will take quite a time for him to master." He let out a frustrated sigh. Seeing the vexation written all over the other's face, Shunsui said, "I just don't know right now. With all that's going on, we'll need strong leaders, and I can't say Kuchiki is physically able. I know it's not an answer that you like, but it's all I have."
Unable to help himself, Ichigo sneered, only to follow it up with a long sigh. "I understand. I couldn't do your job if the world depended on it, so I'm in no position to criticize." Instantly, a switch flipped and his honey eyes became as dark and thick as chocolate, his voice almost threatening. "But I can't let you just throw him out to the wolves, not after everything he's done."
With a nervous chuckle, the commander said, "Hey now, there's no wolves, no throwing. I know better than getting in between you and something you want to protect." Clearing his throat, he moved on, "Now, for the reason I asked you here, I gotta know, what are your plans?"
"That's a loaded question, huh?" Ichigo grimaced at the complexities. What were his plans? Plans were never really his forte, and as of right now, he was just taking this whole thing step by step. "What are my options? I know you mentioned that I may not be able to return to the World of the Living."
"Yes," the commander nodded, "that was a concern. You have such a ramped reiatsu that we were uncertain if we had a seal that might work for you. We wouldn't want you suffocating humans because you suck at controlling that stuff."
"That's like asking me to control a volcano!" Ichigo reasoned, "Ever since I merged, it's like I released this never ending supply that keeps pouring out of me."
"Well luckily for you and any poor humans that may be in the vicinity of your volcano of reiatsu," he explained with a touch of humor, "I've already spoken to Kisuke-san and Kurotsuchi-san. Their more than confident they could prepare a special seal. That being said, if you want to go home, you're able, and if you'd like to stay here as a member of the Gotei 13, you'd be accepted fully. The choice is up to you. Though, we have quite a few captain seats that need to be filled, if you're interested."
Standing at an impasse, Ichigo felt weary of which way he would go. Byakuya's words rang in his ear, and he knew it be wrong to just give up on his human side without serious consideration. What did he really want? It had been so long since he made a decision that wasn't a gut instinct or that was for himself alone. It had been so long since he had time to stop and consider. Things seemed much simpler when there was only time to react and the choices were practically made for him.
Soul Society had been turned inside out and ripped assured, meaning the world was standing on the precipice of new beginnings. As the charred skin of the land healed, it would forever change. Like a family, the rest of the gotei would be working towards a better tomorrow, rebuilding, reshaping, revamping. Of course, there was also the quincy situation to consider. Ishida now had the faith of a whole race on his shoulders. There was Rukia, all of his comrades, Byakuya, so many trudging through to regain even a morsel of what was lose. Could Ichigo really just go back home and kick up his feet while everyone he cared for were barely crawling their way out the mud of Ywaches malevolence? The notion felt as if it went against his very nature.
"How long will it take them to make the seal?" Ichigo questioned.
"I'm not sure, but I'd say a couple of weeks max."
He nodded in comprehension before running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Then that means I don't have to make a decision right now. I'll stay and offer as much support as I can, and in the meantime, I'll give it some thought."
"Oh," the commander said slyly, "you actually want to think it over? I guess war really does change people."
"I haven't really had time to think about things before," Ichigo commented with subtle hints of derisiveness.
"Where will you stay? Many barracks have been destroyed, but there are division compound camps that will be setting up all over. You'll have your pick of any, Im sure," he chuckled. "Everyone will jump at the chance to have a sleepover with our resident savior."
The thought of being victimized by helpless fawning made Ichigo moan inwardly. He hadn't really considered that. "Don't worry about it, I can rough it where ever."
Ignoring the wave of rejection from Ichigo, Shunsui refilled his glass once more. "Hey now, one for the road. We have things to celebrate."
Ichigo snorted sarcastically. "Oh yeah, like what?"
Picking up his glass and prompting Ichigo to do the same, Shunsui held it out in a cheers like fashion. "We are alive, Kurosaki. That in and of itself is worth a celebration." Clinking his cup against Ichigo's, he said, "To being alive."
With a small smile, Ichigo hailed, "To Jyuushiro and all members of the Gotei."
xXx
Tifanny91: Thanks love! I'm glad you're digging it. I'll try to catch as many mistakes as possible. I have no patience for a beta and my editing skills leave something to be desired. I do try hard for you guys though!
elhan: Thank you for the support! It always makes me happy to see people like my writing style.
hopelessfreakz: Your wish is my command. ;) lol Thank yew.