Those who break the rules are scum,
but those who abandon their friends
are worse than scum
-Hatake Kakashi
Fleeting Sakura Arc
Chapter 2:
Locked away
Please… no more.
The room is large, enough to fill in a small house and have rooms for every occupant. Even if most of it is made out of cold and hard stone, the walls hovering above tall and imposing, the matted-out straw should be enough to make it somewhat comfortable… if it was fresh.
It is impossible to tell the time without a proper window – there are only torches on the other side of thick metal bars – but space ran out a long time ago. She is not alone in this moist and humid aired space. People, of all size and color – children, elderly, adults – surround her with their body heat. It is one good thing about this place. No matter how cold the ground or air becomes, there is someone in every direction who can share their warmth.
The worst part is the smell.
The body fluids have mixed in every corner, no matter how much they pile up, nobody comes to clean. No matter how much eyes water from the odor, those inside the box-like prison have no way of doing anything for it. Everyone in here endures, day after day, or an hour after hour, depending on how strong lifeforce they have. Or until someone snuffs it out from mere rage.
She shows no emotion. Frankly speaking, she doesn't dare to. It is not optional in this place. A person could see another one smiling emptily and tear them apart. A small wrong gesture or act will cause many to break out in annoyance from days of sitting behind locked bars. They are al hungry, reduced to animals who are fighting for space.
She is watching the result of this microworld, since the day she was thrown into this hell.
When can I get out?
Red spots and lines frame each stone on the ground, reaching for the tips of her toes of her feet drawn closer to her chest. Those dark lines are near, but so far. They froze some while back, but again she can't be sure of the time.
Her gaze rises to the source of those splatters.
There was once a book she read. When a human is exposed to a sudden and unexpected stimulus, they react to it. But after witnessing or becoming familiar to the new sight, sensation or even a sound, their brains familiarize it and the reactions make a turn to passiveness. She can't exactly remember what this phenomenon is called, but that is what is probably happening to her.
Even when there is a corpse laying just out of reach, most of the limbs stripped off the meat that once surrounded them, she doesn't even blink. The smell isn't any different from usual, too… or is it all in her head?
"N-no! Please! Don't!"
Nobody reacts. Anyone who knows that it makes no difference in here doesn't lift an eye. However, whatever it is that gives her the strength, she lifts her line of view towards the other end of the prison, to the very door into the room, which lays open, as two people walk through it. The last one is struggling, crying and reaching out, as if this place smelling of every possible dirt in the world is better than the outside. They aren't wrong, though.
"Someone! Please help! No!" It is a woman. She is being pulled out by a guard, eyes wide and raw from tears pooling out, framed by her greasy long hair, face pale like a ghost.
Again, for some unknown reason, their eyes meet. Both freeze together with the time.
If this woman had been smart, she would have crawled to the back where the motionless one is sitting with her knees drawn together. This is one spot where not even those wearing armor would have the guts to pull someone out of – the corner for the broken.
Whether it is from pure sadistic nature or from the position where one can humiliate another, anyone who screams or shows a sign of life is pulled out of here. Sometimes, when someone is brought out, they return even more broken, but other times this means that there will be more room for others… the latter is usually the preferable option.
She is clearly new. Her features are not as lifeless and pale as the others'. Again, there is that scream of hers, her reaction is full of fear and panic, emotions that have mostly been forgotten in this place. There is also that one other difference between the struggling woman and the other ones – her clothes have not yet been torn.
When their eyes meet, emotion sparks within her chest. It is surprising and causes her to almost flinch.
"Please," the plea is small and cracks, as thin fingers barely hold on to the side of the metal bars, "h-help me."
There was once a time when she screamed those words until her throat was raw… but nobody came to help.
The ragged clothes, the bruises around her arms and legs are the proof.
The metal bars close once more. The screams echo against the walls.
Blood.
It is really part of some twisted, sick humor when I think about it. The only thing I have ever really thought about while walking through this one familiar street is how the stew would be prepared at the house.
Now, I am more concerned about covering the bloody stains on my clothes. The water has not dried up, nor the red color.
Dripping down, flowing down the river. Red trailing, twisting the stream –
Everything is deadly silent. The reason is understandable, but it does not take off the edge. I feel suffocated, unable to think properly. It is as if every eye around me is watching, their judging and disturbed gazes burning my skull. Even while having a cloth wrapped around my waist – courtesy of Genji – I feel transparent. Anyone could see what I am covered in under this extra fabric. And no matter what mantra I keep on chanting in my head, I don't seem to calm down.
No matter whether somebody sees the blood or not, my general expression must be much more startling; the way I nearly stagger forward at every small step is alarming. The cold water hasn't stopped numbing my unstable feet. There is definitely no color or shade left on my face, as well. Things could be worse, is what I try thinking, but the thought shrinks every time the images from the river come literally flooding back. Again, I feel sick down to my gut and almost trip. D-don't think about it. I didn't see anything. Nothing. Nope. Zero.
Finally, my home is in sight. But contrary to feeling relief, my limbs nearly freeze all over. I am… fine, right? My eyes go down to the covered hem, unconsciously tightening my hands into clenched fists. They are trembling. The blood… I close my eyes, shudder to move across my spine. The bile I have been holding back is starting to rise.
Once more hobbling forward, I end up finally going through the door. S-safe. The familiar smell of dust and powder is not as welcoming, as I had thought. It can't wash away the sense of dread in my chest or the horrible images of a floating corpse from my brain.
Because it is still early in the day, there is a familiar bundle laying in the corner of the small room. The food has not even been prepared, but that is better for me – I would have no appetite. She is asleep… thank god. I nearly collapse down, breathing unevenly, like I just ran and not walked through town to here. My fingers tremble, as I reach out for a fresh set of clothes. The old robes fall off clumsily, but it brings a sense of relief – the stained ones are off.
Sophie groans and turns, mumbling something incoherent under her breath but doesn't stir awake. "N-no… don't wanna… pork."
If it were any other day, any other time, I would snort and decide to make fun of her later on. However, that is not the case and I wrap another set of clothes around me. It is the warmest one I own but does little to settle down the chill in my bones. I hug myself, swallowing thickly and closing my eyes tightly. It wasn't real. What I saw today wasn't real or any of my business. Murders happen in this place more than we could know – I am sure of it. This is a lawless area. But I do not think I have ever seen a corpse just like that. And just when I had to go and pick up more water…
Again, I shudder and wrap my arms around myself, bringing my knees closer to my chest. This is my house. Nobody can come here and hurt me. I have Sophie sleeping here, but I am not alone…
Why is it so cold, though?
"Don't go to work."
"You can't be serious, Mira-san!" Sophie is fuming, hands balled into fists at her sides. There is a very deep frown on her features, cracking the otherwise smooth powder ground out of chalk covering her natural color. Frankly, it looks ridiculous, but I hold back that comment – the blond is upset enough as it is.
Hisana and I exchange glances, silently wondering what to do with this situation. I am adamant, though, so I do not appear as troubled as the young girl. Rather, I also have a frown on my face and arms crossed across my chest in defiance. We are both displeased, stubborn even, and have been like this for the past hour or so.
"Actually, I can and am," I say with chin lifted up. "Listen to your elders, for heaven's sake."
"Did you not just the other day call yourself a five-year-old in an adult's body?"
"I did?" My eyebrow lifts as I pretend to think, but then it drops, and I give my housemate a deadpan stare. "Don't remember."
"Hisana-chan," Sophie sighs and turns towards the black-haired girl in desperation, gesturing at me. "Do something!"
She doesn't even blink before giving her a soft expression. "It may be best if you refrained from going to work. We still have enough saves to manage with my and Mira-san's payments alone."
Brown eyes widen and I grin in triumph from seeing the dejected expression. And as if sensing the sudden good mood even through the thickness of her bangs, Sophie raises her head. Her gaze is sharp and full of annoyance while mine is that of a very satisfied individual's. Of course, she can't be angry with Hisana, so her full hatred is directed at me only. This is all for your own good. She is clearly ticked off but bites down her tongue. It is nearly time to sleep, after all. None of us want to wake up our sleepy and grumpy neighbors.
Still, the blond continues grinding her teeth, hands clenching around the fabric of her sleeves. It isn't the fancy one, though. The pattern of orange dots on purple is but another simple design. Still, she likes this kimono and has already painted her face and put up her hair. No matter what her profession in the streets has made her into or how badly it sometimes has gone, she has taken pride in making herself ready. To earn money the only way she knows how is what has kept her alive to this point. To suddenly demand it to stop for a period of time is upsetting. Her mind has always been settled on earning her keep. Being bossed around doesn't suit Sophie's character.
"Please, Sophie-san," Hisana speaks, voice almost like a whisper. Large eyes twinkling with genuine emotions. "I do not want you to get hurt."
That is enough to make the emotional mask crack down. The middle-eldest of this household falters, angry face fading into a troubled one. Neither of the two of us could ever say annoyed or determined from seeing the kind of expression the dark-haired girl is wearing.
"B-but the money," she insists, eyes dropping down to the ground.
"I don't think that three to four days break from your budget is going to make us helpless," I comment off-handedly.
"… There was a new kimono on display today."
My eye twitches, incredulous. "Is that what this is all about?"
"What else should it be?"
"You have stolen a few things once and twice – you can do the same with that piece of fabric, too."
"Do you want me to get bruises?"
"If it is the stand owned by that old lady, you will be fine."
"She threw rocks at me last time!"
"And you lived!"
"Shh! Please keep it down," Hisana hushes both of us into silence.
Finally, despite me and Sophie sending glances at one another tersely, all of us settle down to our own spots in the small house. I do not like the silence, though. It only keeps on nagging me about the situation, of why I and my youngest housemate wish for the blond to remain here. The darkness in the room only brings bad memories to the surface and I curl a thin blanket tightly around me – they are memories that still smell of blood.
None of my two friends know what really happened – how my clothes became soaked and how I discovered the body. The details have been left out, but it all comes down to the fact that I have witnessed the aftermath of a murder scene. Telling this to them has only brought uneasiness, even if they weren't there to see the same sight. The description I gave must have been staggering, at least to Hisana. Sophie has adamantly stayed the calmest out of the three of us. It is slightly infuriating.
"Fine, we will settle this now," I say and scoot over to her side of the room.
Sophie's light-colored head moves up from its laying position. "Two?"
"Three," I state and raise my fist. A second later other hovers next to mine.
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
It is an unusually hot day. The air is dry, the dirt on the ground keeps on rising with small puffs of dust every second a foot steps on it. Many have dragged whatever water they can and are even splashing themselves with it in plain sight for everyone to see. Not that any understands why. Barely anyone has the strength to come out of their houses like usually during this time. I would like to be one of those people, but…
I am currently standing in the middle of heat filled road, suffering from the temperature and smell of wasting food. Between the two, I have no idea which one wants to make me slump down to the ground.
"Yo! The usual?" The seller is under a near shade, fanning himself with cardboard. I have been staring at it, kind of envious of the small cooling breeze he receives.
A line of vegetables is on display. The only issue is that it looks far worse from the typical sight. Dark spots are covering them. Others are small and look like life has been sucked from them. As a cherry on top, the smell is overwhelming, and I have to cover my nose. Despite always being the cheapest things, you could see, that at least they haven't made me want to puke, until now.
"Hey, old man, these look like shit."
"Oi! These were handpicked by yours truly only today! Don't go slandering my merchandise with one glance!"
My nose wrinkles from instinct. "I don't need to see to smell, you know."
"They don't smell any different. The sun is just messing with everyone's heads today."
Basically, nobody has bought from you. I nearly let my mouth run again but focus down on what could possibly suffice as dinner. "I will take those carrots."
"Not cabbage today?" He asks and starts wrapping things up.
I take one glance at the green vegetable and want to shake my head. The leaves have brownish edges and look mushed in the pile together. "No thanks. Here's the money."
The coins landing on his palm spread a wide grin on his face. "Pleasure doing business with you, as always."
I wave my hand and turn around in an exasperated manner. "Yeah, yeah. See you – "
The words dry up on my tongue when a bulky dark form collides with my shorter and meager one. The uncomfortable warmth from the sun has been a nuisance, but now it only doubles the amount of cold sweat pouring down my back. Oh, crap! I bite on my tongue, taking a step back from seeing the thunderous look on the stranger's face. Knowing better than to say anything, I try making myself appear as meek as possible.
"Watch where you are going," he sneers out, hand dangerously close to the sword at his hip.
The shopkeeper lets out a small sound of fright and also lowers his head, wishing not to get involved. I silently curse him, still covering in slight fear under the scrunching glare. The man isn't alone, too. More than a couple other men dressed similarly stand just behind him – I do not dare to look at them directly.
Again, they have come to scourge through this town.
"I'm sorry, sir," I say quietly and move to the side, as the group of Soul Reapers cuts through the street. The words taste like ash on my tongue, though. Jerks.
No matter why they are here or why they do what they do, nothing could ever be a perfectly good excuse for their rough behavior. No, rather than rough, I would describe the constant surveillance around the clock as a nuisance. No matter where anyone is, most of us in the Rukon District feel watched and threatened. The Soul Reapers just keep on trickling into our territory. Even back at my house, no matter where I look, there is always a flash or solid sight of black fabric and swords.
They're on the edge.
I start walking, keeping my pace calm while on the line of sight. As soon as there is a quiet street near, though, I pick up the speed and clutch the groceries. Those guys grow crazier by the day! There have been few talks of incidents where they have physically dragged people out of their homes and even beaten them up. I have not witnessed anything like that, yet, but it wouldn't be a surprise if the rumor is true.
This behavior has only been making me paranoid. It all just keeps on bringing up the corpse from the last week – drifting down the water, crimson staining my clothes. I have thrown away that same kimono. It must be laying somewhere in a garbage pit for any stray child to discover. Wait. No, that can't be good. I cringe from the memory of the rag flying and being discarded. If someone actually finds those clothes, they won't automatically assume they belong to me, right? I nearly scoff – out of all people in this place, why would I be suspected first?
"Sir! We have scouted the assigned area, as instructed. Should we move on?"
My feet won't pause, even as a new flock of Soul Reapers appears from behind a corner. Instead, it almost encourages me to walk faster. Goodness. They're just everywhere.
"Weren't the orders clear the first time?"
The world tilts itself to the side – I actually almost fall over from shock. I have become an immovable rock, for a few mere seconds, the entire world turns deadly silent. From instinct, the grocery basket in my hands nearly slips down.
"N-no, sir. We understand," the hasty reply is slightly panicked, a hint of fear lacing the undertone. It isn't nearly enough to fill the amount of sheer terror building up in me, though.
"Then get to it. You two, follow me."
Funnily, the heat of the mid-day sun isn't as burning as it was moments ago. As a complete opposite, coldness spreads in my veins from the tips of every toe to the peak of my head. Still, my hands are sweaty and faster than I normally could, I whip around and hide behind a corner. Why is he here!? Every possible limb on my body is trembling from adrenaline and the ends of my long nails sink into the rock wall.
There is no mistaking with that haughty voice or the back of the head covered in long strands of black hair. Even the high ponytail is the same. The sight of it all is excruciating and I back further against the wall, making myself as small as possible. Why, why, why, why, why is it always me!? Biting down on the lower lip, I struggle to calm down my wildly beating heart and breathe. The basket becomes useful – I press it against my chest to the breaking point, not minding the stench of other vegetables lingering on the carrots. What am I supposed to do!? The house is still far away and now these Soul Reapers are blocking the way. From the looks of it, this group is the kind who question every single visible person who walks past them. It is obvious from how tense the shoulders had appeared. And if that brat leads them…
I shudder and look up to the sky. If he sees and recognizes me… I can only pray he isn't at the age where he can hold a grudge. Even now, my face aches from the memory of him pushing my face together with the rest of my body to the ground. The thought of something worse occurring sends my stomach into knots. No! I don't want to die!
Inhaling as deeply as possible, I peek around the corner, making sure that the one I want to avoid is looking the other way. His back remains turned, but that doesn't ease the tension on my shoulders. Here goes nothing –
"You there! Stop!"
Every facial muscle on my face stiffens when one of the Soul Reapers is suddenly walking my way. Inwardly, I scream at him to look away or call out for someone else. That does not happen, though.
"Show what you're carrying," he orders, leaving no room for argument.
Sweating bullets, but not because of him, I comply, holding the basket between us. However, as he inspects what I am holding, I direct my shaky gaze over his shoulder at the object of my fear. The young man hasn't turned around – now if only this older one would let me pass already.
"Ugh! What the hell is this?" He gags, nose wrinkling up from the smell.
"The weather has made most of the market's food go bad, sir. May I take my leave now?" I ask politely, hiding the strain of hurry. Honestly, usually under stressful situations, I would make weak laughs and smiles, but not now. The ground could disappear beneath my feet and I would still be too tense to notice.
From my hopeful question, his expression turns more serious. "No, I still have – "
As if the heavens are against me, another figure approaches. "We were given orders to continue on other parts of the town. Is something the matter here?"
A look of irritation crosses the man's face and he suddenly points at me. "This woman was acting suspiciously. I am merely seeing what her purpose for such behavior is."
Excuse me? Incredulous, the ends of my eyebrows knit together, and my mouth opens, but then closes. It is true that I may appear anxious and was lurking around behind the walls, but something about the accuse is truly annoying. He has made me sound like a total creep.
"We don't have time to waste efforts on every single passing individual. Kouren-san, you're too aggressive in your approach – it is no wonder that every person cowers and acts suspicious with you around."
"T-that is…" he is lost for words, flustered.
Truly, I want to smirk, but physically can't. My mind and eyes keep on wandering to the road I should be headed towards to – the one just behind a building ahead and where I will have to cross straight for home. All that is needed is for these two to make up their minds. Thought of making a run for it crosses my mind, but it is smothered in a second. That act would only make me appear more 'suspicious', as the Soul Reaper has put it.
"Oi! You two! What are you loitering about?"
All the hope is drained from me to the very last drop. The basket does slip from my hands this time and falls down to the ground, the pathetic carrots scattering around my feet. Shit, shit, shit, shit! I panic, instantly crouching down and gathering the vegetables, keeping my longer bangs in front of my face and head lowered.
He approaches strides long. The two men stiffen when the shorter one ends up standing directly in front of them. I mimic their tense postures from my position and start gathering things back up quicker. It is only when every carrot is back in the basket that I notice my elaborate breathing pattern. This is bad – I need to calm down. With shaky legs, I shoot up and clutch the basket close to my chest, keeping my head as low as possible. For the second time, I think about running away.
"S-sir, we were just – "
"This part of the town is already under surveillance. We are no longer needed, and the other group will take care of whatever…" the youngest of the men trails off. His pause creates silence and the confusion spreading in the air is very obvious.
"You."
The hairs on my body stand up straight and my squared shoulders rise even more till they reach my ears. There is a strange and frightening burning spreading on my head – the feeling of someone's sharp gaze piercing you. The sensation makes me want to crawl into a hole on the ground and let the elements take care of the rest. It seems like my head wasn't ducking down low enough.
A bit shakily, I lift up my gaze. It ends up being one of the things I regret doing in my life. The expression I see on a youthful face is that of the devil. Despite there being a flash of surprise, the two orbs of silver are narrowed, a murderous shadow cast over them by long strands of black hair. The bangs move ominously in the wind.
The spit dries in my mouth.
And then I wave like an idiot.
"H-hello, again."
"C-c' mon! Is this really necessary!?" The wooden bars don't budge when rattled. I am sweating bullets and the angry frown on my face is just a mask to create confidence.
There is what can only be described as a putrid stench mixed with the stinging smell of human waste covering the wooden walls. What was once light brown surface, is now greasy and rotten looking, greenish mold sticking to the wood. This is what an unused dump would look like. Sadly, it is a run-down temporary 'prison' used to hold in lunatics and people who usually own a bit of money to someone. I admit being none of the two. But the ones standing on the other side of this confinement seem not to have similar ideas.
Even though my armpits are covered in bruises – courtesy of the people who dragged me like a real criminal up here – heart beating inside the ribcage, palms sweaty and lightly trembling against a solid surface, I still have the nerve to glare through the bars at a steely gaze. There is more annoyance than fear brewing, now that I am in this situation.
"Kuchiki-san, does this woman have anything to do with our mission? We… if I may say, would find it more efficient, if she were taken to – "
"Quiet."
"Yes, sir."
Wow. I almost wince in pity towards the poor guy. Some group dynamic. The shorter boy is in physique inferior to the men around him, but he is replacing that lacking area with the attitude. I am still contemplating whether that is an inspiring notion or plainly mean. The latter is becoming more likely since it is because of his pompous temperament that I am in this situation, to begin with.
However, maybe I can use this pride as an advantage, too.
"You know," I start, carefully leaning back and thanking whoever sculped these thick bars, "I know that throwing mud on someone's face is not extremely civil, but surely you don't have to be mad enough to lock me up into this stinky pit."
His face makes some interesting changes during my short talk. First, it stiffens, then those dark brows of his furrow even more and finally he is glaring daggers at me with a heated glare. If only looks could kill, as people say, then I would be over ten feet under and more. Again, I see the youngster reaching for his hip, where the sword is, and tense up.
The confusion on the other Soul Reaper's faces is obvious. They glance between the murderous aura and my face from between the wooden bars.
"What is she talking about?"
"Throwing mud?"
For a moment, I think of riling him up a little bit just to spite. The sight of light red spreading across pale skin in blotches quirks the corner of my lip up, making it totally worth it that I had opened my mouth. He clearly doesn't want to and hasn't told his comrades what transpired between us a few days ago. That is one thing I could use to get out of here, but…
"I ordered you all to be silent," the command comes swiftly through a clenched jaw, causing literally everything in the room flinch. The sight could be almost comical if it weren't for the small detail of him having an aura of the devil. "Leave us."
I tense up for the hundredth time and take a step back without thinking. Those grey eyes are directed at me and only me, burning the front of my face.
"B-but Kuchiki-san – "
"I will interrogate the prisoner myself. Leave," he hisses out the last part, straining to keep his composure, or what is left of it.
This time my eyes widen and dart between confused faces in the room, silently begging them not to leave me alone with this kid. He looks positively murderous and I have only spoken only once. My own eyes are watering in frustration from how I can't run-up to the Soul Reapers and hide behind them. I direct this desperate expression towards them. However, nobody seems to be paying any attention to the poor prisoner anymore – something inside of me starts crumbling.
No, no, no, no, don't leave me alone with this psycho!
The men trickle out of the cramped room through a narrow door, which is barely hanging onto its hinges. Just like my life, apparently. The way light from the outside pours in could also be depicted with the saying 'light at the end of a tunnel'. Expect, mine doesn't have any, not even a tiny ray. The wood creaks and cracks, as it closes. The cracks on the wallboards let in just enough light for anyone in the shack to see shapes and features. I wish it would just let me be blind, though.
Although the noises of the people from outside the four walls reach just fine the inside space, the air is heavy with tense silence… it's broken soon enough by the sound of cold metal slicing the air.
"You have dared to mock us Soul Reapers," he starts, the tone just as icy as his weapon's gleam. "Not only that but by insulting me, you have brought dishonor on my family name. What have you to say for your crimes?"
"W-w-what? Crimes?" I splutter, incredulous. Many words race through my head in a second and I am ready to throw them all at him, but my throat clamps shut from the sight of the blade.
His eyes narrow dangerously. "Assaulting a Soul Reaper and not complying with the arrest are considered crimes. Unless your peasant mind has ceased working and can't comprehend the severity of this situation."
Oh, hold on a sec here you arrogant piece of –
I bite down on my lower lip and inhale deeply. "And what exactly did you do that was so chivalrous? I think everyone has their rights for self-defense – whoa! Put that thing away!" The sword has risen up so that it is directly on our eye levels. "I-it was all a misunderstanding, okay?"
"A misunderstanding?" He repeats, but in a menacing manner. The dark fabric of the clothes melts together with the shadows of the shaggy building, the midnight black hair joining it and framing those pale features – a ghoul is standing just on the other side of these wooden bars.
I manage to nod my head even as cold chill shoots down my spine. This is only one shorter young boy so why do I feel like backing away further into this stinky room? "Y-yeah. A misunderstanding – you thought I was a thief; I thought you were trying to kill me."
"And that is your excuse for retaliating?"
"Ugh," I cringe from the question, finding his voice dropping the otherwise smothering temperature of my cell by a few degrees. "L-look, I was scared and confused (a bit annoyed, too) and didn't know what to do, so," I can't believe I am begging from this brat again, "please don't kill me!"
"Whatever excuse you have, it does not change the fact that you tried providing false information on the suspect we are searching. Do you have any idea what kind of serious offense that is?"
"O-of course not! I swear it! I never would have done so, if I knew that to be an actual law!" The more I stare at the weapon in his tight grip, the greater the level of panic in my gut gathers up. The Soul Reaper looks seconds away from snapping. Crap! Crap! Crap!
The boy clicks his tongue, frown creating deep marring lines on his youthful face. "Do you take me for a fool?"
"Y-e – no."
Whether he believes me or not, it doesn't show. "I bet that this encounter had something to do with insulting me further."
I shake my head, already anticipating what his way of thinking would end up giving me. "I was only minding my own business and going straight home. Honest! There are people back at home who are waiting for me to come back, so please can you let this slide?"
"Is this as honest as your so claimed 'information' from the last time?" The question is, once more, sharp and I wince.
He got you there.
Shut up, consciousness.
The back of my throat is tight, a lump forming at a rapid pace, as a response struggles to come through. It's infuriating – I start thinking that he is in the right for doubting me. Just like a parent who has been faced with an infuriatingly right point from their cheeky kid.
"Judging by your silence," his voice deepens with accusing he is not willing to hide, "I take it that you – "
No! He will definitely start planning on chopping off a head if nothing stops him.
For the first time in many years, I do something that is not regular for me. I wouldn't want to do this no matter who it would be, but I lower my body till my knees touch the ground and bow down deeply. Whatever other nasty substance the dirt beneath my body is mixed with – don't think about it – I grit my teeth and bear with it. Truthfully, together with the fear of being sliced in half, I am also fearful of how this entire thing will affect my two housemates. The groceries have been placed on the side, on the other side of these bars and lay just within my reach. It is a reminder to whom I have to hurry back to.
Neither Hisana nor Sophie had been the ones who had made a fuss of the recent murder. But still, the idea of worrying them clenches my gut to the point it is painful – the thought of staying in this place for one night is also disturbing. There is no way I could stay in this smelly cell for that long. Think about Hisana-chan and Sophie-chan… do this for them! The screaming thought does make me feel a bit better, but my nose wrinkles from the smell waffling into my nostrils. The stench is worse on the lower level, it seems.
I raise my head, looking between the wood at the straw sandals with white socks in determination. Everyone has a weak spot and I think I know what this one is. Here goes nothing. The most pleading voice I have ever heard passes from my lips.
"Please! Forgive me! I am just an uneducated woman from a low-born background and had no idea of the importance you hold!"
My forehead meets with the ground for another deep bow. The time moves forward slowly. There is nothing in here to tell if minutes or seconds have passed by. For a moment, I am hoping that the other Soul Reapers on the outside will think it has been too long since they left this hut and step in to intervene. However, nothing like that happens and I continue keeping myself as low as possible. My skull burns, definitely from the glare the top of my head is receiving from the boy.
And then, there is a deep 'hm' and the ear-scratching sound of a sword being sheathed. These two noises bring both relief and anticipation. Although, so far as I have seen this boy's character, I am expecting…
"Woman, raise your head."
I do so, hesitantly, but gradually managing to level my eyes so that I am staring at his chin. The sword is not being pointed at me anymore, so that is a good sign. And feeling even more relief only raises my gaze further up to Soul Reaper.
He has regained his cool.
"You swear to not have any information regarding Akemichi Kumotetsu?"
Again, that name. I almost frown but keep my expression as humble as possible. "Yes, sir."
Kuchiki tilts his chin up sharply, looking down at me even further. "And I trust you won't be causing any trouble for my fellow comrades in the future?"
I only ever will cause trouble to you, it seems. Brat.
"Yes, sir."
"Then, since you have confessed your wrongdoings…" he starts, and I nearly snort. This boy really is the kind to go for groveling and flattery too easily. "Your only punishment will be staying in here till sundown. I will have you reside in here until then."
Without realizing it, my shoulders slump down and I limply lower my head back to the ground. I am thankful to whatever god has been on my side today. I would only need to – wait. What? As if snapped out of a pleasant dream, my head shoots up, eyes wide. The smell hits me for the second time and I cringe in both horror and repulsion.
This place literally stinks like a garbage pit that has been left into the scorching desert. And I am expected to stay here for hours until the piece of a sky has decided to settle down? The thought of being sliced down in this place was bad enough, but by the time the release will come, I will be already covered in this place's stench. After that, even those that know me will start avoiding me and, in the end… I will become the town's loner.
NOOOO! I DON'T WANT THIS!
The words fly out of my mouth without a second thought. "W-wait! You can't be serious about leaving me in here!"
"Huh?" He is already at the door when I yell out. The air seems to have stilled from the raise of voice, but his quieter questioning sound only intensifies the tension. The boy doesn't even turn around – merely twists his neck to glance back – and the act stiffens the bones.
The back of my throat clamps shut, no sound of defiance escaping for the second time. I am reminded again of the authority he has here, despite appearing much younger than me. The sword at his hip is particularly one of them and another cold chill slides down my back.
The next words that form on my lips are forced out. "N-nothing. T-thank you very much."
However, the second the door is closed, and everything falls still, I regret not standing up to myself more.
If there is anything I hate in this world, it's being inside closed spaces.
By the time I am out of the miniature confinement, the sun has truly set down… and I am covered in the worst smell humanly possible. There are fewer people out compared to daytime – thank god for that – but that still doesn't stop some making cringe-like faces whenever I pass by. That is saying a lot, considering how low this place's hygiene level is, to begin with. The smell of the rotten vegetables from before was nothing compared to me now. Even the carrots in my basket have a better aroma.
Still, even amongst the shame-filled flush covering my face, I barely manage to hold in my anger. Every time I make a turn, see a flash of dark-colored hair or colored clothes, the pale face of the very reason for my state pops into my head. That boisterous, arrogant, spoiled, sniveling brat of a… bunch of colorful language is streaming through the mind and my fingers clench the handle of the basket. However, this is the only one I have, so it takes a lot of effort to loosen the hold of my grip, all the while gritting my teeth together to the point where it is painful.
I want to punch something – someone.
But of course, this is only one side of concerns. The very second, I step into my house and announce my arrival, both Hisana and Sophie shoot up from next to the fireplace. They have frowns on their faces, but once seeing me and smelling the stench sticking to my clothes – their noses wrinkle – the expressions change to incredulousness.
"Mi-mira-san?" Hisana asks faintly, as if not believing her eyes, covering the lower part of her face.
The blonde woman next to her looks ready to open her mouth as well, but I hold up my hand. "Please… don't say anything. I know, I stink and am quite late, but… here are some carrots. They were the only good ones today."
"Forget about the damn vegetables! The heck were you doing!?" Sophie explodes and marches forward, only to recoil and cover her nose. "Ugh! Whad dhe hell?"
"You're…" the black-haired girl starts but then bolts towards a jar full of our water supply. Without explaining or waiting for questions, she pours some on a smaller container and picks it up. "Mira-san, please take off your clothes. I think we can wash most of the smell off."
"Wha – hold it, Hisana-chan! There is no need to waste the drinking water – I will go and bathe in the river." I place the basket down in a hurry and am about to go back out when a hand grabs my shoulder with an almost bruising grip.
It's Sophie, still squeezing her nose shut. The action causes a nasal tone to flow out of her mouth. "Don'd go. Id iz darg."
"Who is the eldest here? I will be fine."
The answer seems to annoy her rather than cause concern. "You loog horrible."
It may be because I am tired, the hold she has on my shoulder reminds how those Soul Reapers who dragged me to that stinky cell or that I am still fuming from that one brat's order to lock me up – I end up shrugging her hand off roughly. Her narrowed eyes widen slightly as a frown tugs the corners of my lips down in irritation.
"And you sound funny."
"Don't worry," Hisana cuts in before the two of us can continue heated glaring. "This amount won't do us any harm."
"Nor any good. There is no way that mere water can wash off this smell," the blonde takes a step back and fans the air with her hands.
If I had any energy to dramatics, I would pretend to be insulted, but instead a: "Shut up," comes out instead. "I am serious about bathing in the river. There is no way any of us can sleep with this smell waffling off me."
Large purple eyes cast down to my legs and back up to the top of my head. "Still, at least let me come with you. We have discussed how dangerous it is outside – "
Sophie clicks her tongue. "Like it never has been."
"And the river is not close to this place, too," Hisana finishes softly, looking thoughtful for a moment, before looking back up into my eyes. "I wouldn't truly want to see you get hurt, Mira-san. I think… we could make it through the night, even if you did not get yourself cleaned."
The earnestness in her gaze swells something in my chest – I am moved and for a moment forget the horrid smell and reason for my snappy mood. After being manhandled earlier and afraid of losing my life, this kind of concern is just what I need…
"Hisana-chan, honey," the middle oldest of us three shakes her head, breaking the warm atmosphere, "you aren't convincing anyone that we will be okay after this night. This one will need two liters of perfume and lotions before she and I will sleep under the same roof," she finishes with a shake of her head and walks over to roll up a straw mat. "Until then, you two will find me at Keisuke-kun's place."
"S-sophie-san, you can't mean that," the youngest whispers and watches in disbelief at the taller woman as she stands up.
Honestly, I am pretty shocked by the declaration, too. And a bit hurt. There wasn't really that much hope to the possibility that anyone could stand a few feet distance away from me, but hope is hope and it has now been crushed. The fact that this is all coming from someone I consider a friend is even worse. These emotions must be plainly and painfully obvious because Sophie's gaze softens a tad bit when our eyes meet.
"Sorry, Mira-san. Got my own priorities. Can't take on any clients, if they can't even breathe."
Again, whatever form of irritations I have felt, it fades. Even though she won't take any night-time jobs, for a while at least, that doesn't mean that she has stopped working. No matter what kind of job she does, and no matter how low the standards are, Sophie is a workaholic through and through. If she does not earn money, she would grow restless. Thinking it like this makes me feel a lot less hurt. I am not sure if I wanted to stand next to me right now either.
"It's already dark outside, didn't you also say so yourself? Let's think this through one more time, please."
"What's there to think about? Anyhow, Mira-san," Sophie turns to me sharply. "What in the world happened?"
I stiffen, eyes unconsciously moving down to the basket near my feet. The other two pairs of eyes follow and also settle on the pitiful object. The dried-up ends of the carrots barely stand out from the bottom.
"I kind of…" got myself thrown into town's 'make-shift' jail by the same boy who mangled me earlier this week, "fell into the garbage pit?"
There are two faces that form from this explanation. One is that of pure surprise and worry. The other merely exasperation and doubt. The latter's owner is easier to guess.
"The garbage pit… really? The very same at the edge of this district where you could have no business in whatsoever?" Brown eyes gleam with suspicion, narrowing dangerously and appearing ready to make the real reason rise up to the surface.
"Genji-san asked me to run some errands by the end of the day."
"Yeah, right. We both know you would have sooner told him to do that himself or pay. I don't see any extra cash."
I blink my eyes as innocently as possible, taking a step forward and enjoying the way she flinches. Her nose wrinkles again. "Since when would I lie to two of you?"
"Gaah! Don't come closer!"
"Sophie-san!"
Hisana, the ever so gentle soul, tries persuading our roommate to consider her choices. She obviously also finds her words a bit too crude and slightly even scolds Sophie for this – the latter is surprising, from a soft temperament you wouldn't expect too much protest. For the second time, I am moved by her goodwill and desire not to make me any more ashamed or uncomfortable.
It is such a pity, that by looking at the back of the dark-haired girl, I am reminded of that one arrogant brat. The expression of haughtiness he wore hasn't faded from the memory. And even now it sours my mood back down to the level where I felt painful stab to the heart from Sophie's blunt words. I am suffering too, is what I almost want to speak up in the middle the conversation before me – the smell has been with me for hours now. Thinking these only keep on gathering dark imagery clouds on top of my head.
In the end, half of what the two's talk falls to deaf ears. I end up watching like there is a bunch of bees buzzing inside my ears and only manage to hear a small bye for the night from Sophie, as she walks through the door and disappears from sight. A bit worried and feeling slight guilt – for some reason – I hurry to the window and pull open the curtain. The sight of the soles of her feet peeks from behind a corner before they are gone. The house she plans on staying for tonight, at least, is not far, but…
As if worried about the same thing, Hisana comes to the window, as well, and looks out into the dark streets. Her dark eyebrows are drawn into a frown, but when she sees the expression on my face hers softens. Even while the smell is still clinging to me, she doesn't back away. She's more worried than me.
"Mira-san, I am sure that Sophie didn't mean to – "
"Hisana-chan, can you do me a favor in the future?"
"Huh?" Large purplish eyes – like dark onyx in this light – blink. Her next words are pronounced in a confused manner. "Yes, what is it?"
"Can you please make sure that your future husband will get manners disciplined into him?"
"…Eh?"
"Otherwise, I think I will end up strangling him."
"A-achoo!"
It is undignified, so utterly embarrassing for him to sneeze just when he is about to have some tea time with his grandfather. The hot liquid in his cup splashes, nearly falling down against the sides and down to his fingers.
Ginrei raises his steely grey eyes from his own cup to see his grandson's sour expression. "If you are coming down with a cold, you should retire to bed early, Byakuya."
A bit flustered, the young boy straightens his posture and clears his throat. "Thank you, but there is no need for concern – I do not feel ill."
The elder man looks down at his drink, acknowledging his answer and the two continue dwelling in their silence. It is not uncomfortable one – this is mostly how they spend this kind of time together. If there is something to talk of, one would open his mouth for a conversation that could last for lengthy periods. Since the young Kuchiki started his duties as a true Soul Reaper, he truly hasn't run out of things to speak of or ask from his grandparent regarding his new position.
Until now, Ginrei muses silently in his mind and sets down his cup. The door to the gardens has been left open, so a pleasant night breeze moves in and has them both glance at the scenery. The older man truly expected to have an hour-long conversation tonight, but that hasn't happened. So, he is left to wonder what has occupied his successor's mind.
The black-haired youth is unaware of the thoughts running through Ginrei's mind, as well. It is very unlikely of him, especially when a hint of smile nearly twitches the corners of his lips up. He keeps on recalling today's events and the memories bring sweet satisfaction. It servers that woman right, is what mostly echoes in his skull.
Byakuya hasn't forgotten the look of utter shock and repulsion on the brunette's face when he had closed that run-down door behind him. He hasn't even thought of what the others of his group would think or if they question him later for his actions. Rather, he doesn't much dwell on those facts and lets the fulfillment spread all over his body. This is the enigma which has caused him a headache and made his head boil in utter shame for a few days now, but today that all has been lifted from his shoulders. The moments he spends gritting his teeth and clutching his sword tightly in a death grip are over.
The events weren't planned. Of course, he had been half-searching for the same woman who had thrown dirt on his face – which could be considered a feat towards someone trained in martial arts and so humiliating for him – but today's meeting had been a shock. For all the incompetence his subordinate has, for once he had made a smart move to have spotted her in that one street.
Truly, he had been beyond angry – seething – but as soon as she had lowered that head of hers to the ground, admitting her fault in utter panic, had made this emotion shimmer down. Instead, he had wanted to smirk down at her in victory and watch her grovel just a bit longer…
Unknown to Byakuya, his thoughts have started to show outwardly and gained the attention of grandfather.
"Is something amusing?"
As if woken up, the large grey eyes widen and blink. "Ah – n-no, not really. No," he ends lamely and clears his throat for the second time. "I was merely thinking of today's mission."
"I see. Then, what was it that happened?"
Not having been thinking through what to actually tell him, Byakuya momentarily stiffens but then places on a calm mask. The tea in his cup hasn't stopped steaming and he takes a sip. "May I ask how your health is fairing, jii-sama?"
The question is innocent and what he usually even asks. Ginrei doesn't even blink from hearing it. To any outsider, his unmoving face betrays nothing, but to the grandson, there is a shift in his ancient grey gaze. It isn't sharp, but not soft either – a gaze full of thoughts. Finally, though, those two orbs close behind his eyelids.
"I am feeling quite well," the elder man finally answers evenly and places the tea down on a wooden tray. A second breeze fills the room, moving the strands of long grey hair. "I think that the doors have been open for long enough."
Could you close them?
Byakuya places his own drink aside and stands up swiftly, moving just as smoothly towards the screen doors, watching the stone garden, the wall further away and the bright night sky above it the whole time. This is part of their routine. The rest of the conversation would continue after these doors would be sealed shut.
Somehow, he knows where this is going. Whatever they are going to be talking about brings him pride, fear, and nervousness all at once. These may as well be reasons why he nearly hesitates to close these doors. He doesn't dare to glance back at his grandfather, the one who doesn't sit neatly wearing his captain's uniform anymore and the one whose features appear to be paling day by day.
I am pouting.
If the girl next to me was anything like those smart-ass kids, she would point out how childishly I am acting for my age. Luckily, Hisana is nothing like that and merely watches my back while I stare at the wall, a frown knitting the eyebrows together and puffy cheeks rounding up the edges. I am not in a bad mood, but I am not feeling too great either.
The reason being only a few feet away – there is an empty spot in the corner next to a small desk piled with cheap makeup and bottles of equally poor perfumes. Sophie hasn't returned yet. We woke up and she wasn't there, which proves that she did truly abandon us for the night. Or more like fled, imaginary tail between her legs.
The stench hasn't been lifted. Changing the clothes – and throwing those rags out – somewhat helped. But the second thing it has been clinging to is my hair. The smell isn't waffling around, but if someone comes too close, there is no doubt that they catch the rotten odor. Surprisingly, that is the least of my problems.
"She will throw a fit," I nod my head once and raise one of the containers for the scented ointments. The jar is made out of cheap wood, but what it contains is far more valuable. This is one of the best that the blonde roommate of mine owns – she always gets her hands on these. I start opening it.
"Mira-san, I do not think this is wise," Hisana finally speaks up her mind and sits next to me with a small frown. "Sophie-san treasures that."
"And she always says this comes cheaply for her," I say calmly and take a sniff of the whitish paste at the bottom. A flowery fragrance replaces the disgusting smell that has been filling my nostrils since last night.
"This is not for the purpose of…" she doesn't finish, leaving the answering for me.
"Yup," I pop the 'p' and scoop up some of the ointment, smearing it across my neck and lower jaw before continuing the same process up to my cheeks. "Those who abandon the battlefield will be punished."
Hisana tilts her head, an expression of loss on her face. "The battlefield?"
"Yes, the battlefield – leaving just like that. At least you stayed," the last part is muttered out in my irritation. The white paste feels cool against the otherwise flushed and sweaty skin. The sun has only recently risen, but the air is already dry, just like yesterday.
As I am finishing – the container is half-empty now – and placing the scented ointment down, a small hand is placed on my shoulder. Unconsciously, I relax and look back at Hisana's large innocent eyes with a pout. She returns this expression with a small smile and reaches out with a ragged cloth to tap the excess paste off.
"I can make some rice balls tonight. So, please, do not be upset with Sophie-san."
"I am not upset with her," I say, speaking half of the truth. "I just feel like poking a bear with a stick for the fun of it."
For the second time, she looks confused by the unfamiliar expression. The sight of her perplexed face is both amusing and adorably innocent that a first grin today spreads on my lips. I am about to explain the words in more detail, but our small moment is broken by a racket that suddenly rises up from the outside. Both of us stiffen, whipping towards the door. I, particularly, am up on my feet in a second and heading out.
There are muffled screams.
"Mira-san! Wait!" Hisana is scrambling up after when I am already out of the door.
I do not stop to wait but immediately head towards a crowd of people filling most of our street. The sight is both strange and alarming. From one glance, I can even see that there are those that I am not familiar with, from this same area, in that one mass. It is like watching a mob forming in one night in your yard, but the most frightening thing is the sounds. The noise of people speaking low under their breaths to each other and then those sounds being drowned by loud yells.
The closer I get, the slower my quick steps become until I stop just a few feet away. Whatever they are all gathered up for, those screams only tell me that someone is in trouble. And no matter how brutal these streets can at times be, in this area, rarely anyone makes a scene like the one right now. But nobody is making a move to further bring the crowd closer to whatever they are looking at.
My heart is pounding – I blame it on the sudden run I took. Sweat trails down my back, the smell of the ointment and stench from yesterday suffocate my lungs.
I move forward, full of curiosity, but keeping my movements wary. Every person stands with a slight distance to another, which gives me a spot to squeeze a way through. It is not pleasant, especially, when the atmosphere is tense and nobody else is moving like me. I recognize the emotions on their faces, explaining the motionlessness. There is fear, nervousness, pity…
"The heck you doing!? I said to let go!" Again, there are screams, but this time they are clear and close.
"You can't do this to us!"
"Somebody help!"
Finally, I break through the crowd and end up stumbling to a scene which jolts my bones. The Soul Reapers are gathered together, the movement of the dark fabric of their uniforms contrasting with the plain background of the town. They all have an either blank or simple annoyed expression on while glaring down at the row of what is clearly a bunch of ordinary townsfolk tied up with ropes connecting them to each other. They are all kneeling on the dusty ground, looking up at the ones who are obviously the cause of their state. Few even have obvious signs of struggle from the disarray of clothes and hair to the slight reddening spots on their faces.
It is like watching an execution field from a front-row seat. Everything – the houses, the air, the sky, and the people – is miserable. The way the men in black hold their swords in broad daylight for anyone to see does not lessen the tension. A small misstep could make something in the air snap, like a mirror on the edge of a drawer, ready to fall and crack.
I am petrified. It feels as if my heart stops beating for a small, insignificant second.
They all look so pitiful. Especially those with desperate and anxious tears – either fresh or dried up on their skin – coming out of their eyes. One pair, in particular, is what ceases my lungs' functions.
Sophie is there, her kimono loosely falling around her form, but still providing modesty. She is definitely one of those who had fought with nails and teeth, but that strange form of courage has faded now that she is at a disadvantage. The strands of her light hair have been gathered up into a loose ponytail, which is messy, and strands of loose strands fall over her sweaty face – no, she has been crying.
As if feeling my stare and recognizing it from hundreds of others around her, bloodshot dark brown eyes lift up and meet my grey ones. All the noise buzzing inside my ears ceases and it is only the two of us.
"Help me." Her mouth moves, but no sound reaches me. The meaning isn't lost, though. Her expression tells me everything there is to know. She is frightened.
One of the Soul Reapers steps in front of her, blocking my view of that desperate gaze. He, along with the others, starts ordering the line to stand up and move. Cries rise up from the victims, they struggle and are kicked to create order or from simply retaliating. The bottom line is that they are all either crying to be released or somebody from the crowd to help them.
Ignore.
At my sides, both of my limp hands are trembling. The feet that had previously stumbled from out of a sea of people are now firmly rooted to the ground. Whatever factor is affecting my body, it is numbing every part of it from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
Do not get involved.
Sophie-chan is there.
Dust clings to her scraped knees, as she is forced to stand up. All the while, the flash of her terrified face peeks over the large form of the Soul Reaper. And when she starts to move our eyes meet for the second time.
This time, the momentary deafness in my ears clears out.
"Help me!" She yells, the sound of a cornered animal. It is replaced with a cry of pain when she is hit across the face.
Don't…
My mind turns blank.
The next thing I know is that I am moving without a warning.
There are sounds of outrage, pain and none of them are coming from me. I am too busy sinking my teeth into a man's neck and clawing his head.
And I do not think of the consequences.