Shards of Spirit - Ch. 2
Apr. 16th, 2008 08:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tasogaretaichouOMG finally found my book that I keep my fic outlines in and couldn't wait to get the next part of this done. Anyway, chapter 2 of my chaptered IchiRuki fic, Shards of Spirit.
Shards of Spirit
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
If anyone had ever said that Kurosaki Ichigo didn't brood, than they obviously didn't know him very well. Hell, even people who didn't know the orange-haired shinigami very well generally had little trouble recognizing the fact that "brooding" was one of the many descriptive terms that could aptly be applied to his personage. But right now that was beside the point, seeing as there could be little mistaking the thick and oppressive aura surrounding him, an aura comprised somewhat of frustration and anger but almost moreso of a despair that was unusual for him. Despair, worry, concern... those were all emotions that Ichigo didn't have an easy time dealing with and for that same reason usually kept bottled up within where others wouldn't see. But in this case, something else had overridden that reflex action and laid them bare for others to see.
Her.
Or rather, her current status, which was to say the fact that said female shinigami was lying motionless and unresponsive a few rooms away, and there was fuck-all he could do about it. Ichigo didn't do well with situations like that, he wasn't used to not knowing what to do, to the feeling of powerlessness that seemed right now to be dragging him down into depths he didn't want to revisit. It was too much, too similar to that last time, when he'd been just a kid -- innocent, most would say, in spite of his own feelings -- and he'd been powerless against the unseen force that had taken his mother from him, completely unable to do anything against what he would learn years later was a Hollow. That day had haunted his dreams for years since, as he could never escape the guilt that he heaped on himself. And now it was happening again.
But this time, he wasn't going to be powerless. Setting his face into it's familiar scowl, orange brows drawing together across his forehead, Ichigo pushed himself up off of the floor, one hand grabbing Zangetsu as he stood up. Slinging the blade onto his back, he loped down the hallway in search of the one person who might perhaps have an answer for him.
It didn't take long to find the tall figure leaning against the wall of the back porch, Yoruichi sitting crosslegged a few feet away as both stared out at the evening dusk. It would have been a rather picturesque scene, the two longtime friends -- and he suspected something a bit more, though he'd never voiced any opinions -- enjoying a quiet evening amidst the fireflies that flitted through the summer night, but amidst the almost romantic setting was interlaced a heavy atmosphere that reeked of concern and tension. Yoruichi's eyes flickered towards him as Ichigo stepped out onto the porch, amber-brown gaze focused unerringly on the figure of Urahara Kisuke leaning against the wall and sipping nonchalantly from a cup of tea.
"Oi. Getaboushi. How do I fix her?"
There was no hesitation in his words, no hint of doubt or concern that there might not be a way to fix her. Because in Ichigo's mind that was never an option. There WAS a cure, there just had to be. And if there wasn't... then he would make one. The orange haired shinigami bristled slightly as a chuckle dropped from the older man's lips as he lowered the cup, leaning blond head back against the polished wood to slant blue-gray eyes at his younger protege. It was admirable, in more ways than one, how devoted the boy was to Rukia, and while he knew better than to press the young man about it -- though he had to admit it was amusing to watch Ichigo squirm, he had to envy Isshin the ability to do it so well -- Kisuke was no fool. Monogamy -- at least in the generally thought of terms -- may not have been his forte, and he certainly wasn't one for excessive emotions, but he knew love when he saw it and he hadn't had to point out to either Isshin OR Yoruichi how much the boy was like his father at times. Turning his head slightly, he raised an eyebrow at the younger Kurosaki.
"And what if I told you there was a way? Would you be willing to try it, no matter what the cost? Even if, were you to fail, your own soul would be the price you paid in addition to losing hers forever?"
Kisuke had to give him credit, seeing as there was only a momentary hesitation in those angry eyes before his jaw set and he nodded, fists clenching by his side. It spoke not only of courage, but of resolve and depth of feeling that the boy was so willing to place his life on the line yet again for someone close to him.
"I won't let that happen. I'll do it. Whatever it takes."
With a nod to Yoruichi, Kisuke turned and brushed past Ichigo to continue down the wall, sipping his tea as he went, not a fraction of his mannerisms in any way exhuding hurry or urgency. So steely-calm even in the wake of all that was happening, but maybe that was just Kisuke, who never seemed surprised by anything, as though everything in his world was somehow carefully measured and fed and wired through a complex interconnected web that he exercised and maintained complete control over. Completely in contrast to Ichigo, who was the picture of tension. Hands balled into fists at his sides, teeth gritted and eyes hard and angry with determination -- or was it irritation at Urahara's seeming lack of urgency -- and the resolve or stubbornness that always seemed to carry him through anything.
They made their way back to what had become Rukia's room, Kisuke simply settled himself down on the cushion beside Orihime. Taking the girl's wrist from her friend, he took a quick count of her pulse before setting it back down and pulling out a familiar dark blue glove. Or at least... it looked familiar until he pulled out a second one, tossing it past Ichigo's head to Yoruichi who caught it and plopped down on the other side of Rukia's head. Frowning for a moment, she cocked her head at Kisuke, as if to say "are you sure about this", and in another moment of seemingly soundless conversation between the two, she simply nodded before the former 12th division captain turned his gaze back to Ichigo.
"Do you know what happens when a shinigami shares their powers with another?"
It didn't seem to be a very pertinent question, especially given that they weren't talking about that, they were talking about Rukia. A fact which Ichigo began to crossly point out before he found his head forcibly planted in the floor by Yoruichi's hand as she told him to "be a good boy and shut up when someone was trying to help him out". Growling at her, he nonetheless did as she said, scowling back at Urahara and rubbing the back of his head. Bitch. How the hell was any of this supposed to help Rukia?
Seeing as his audience was now captive again, he continued, using his everpresent fan as emphasis, though to what extent was anyone's guess.
"Now, as I was saying, shinigami sharing powers with humans -- or other souls for that matter -- is an extremely rare thing. But when it occurs, a connection is made between the two souls. A reiatsu connection. In essence, it acts as a resonating frequency, causing the two soul-pulses to resonate in harmony with one another."
Ichigo had to assume that it was obvious to everyone else that he wasn't quite getting it, as Yoruichi's fist bopped him on the head with another exasperated sigh. "Pay attention, Ichigo! It means that you and she have similar reiatsu."
As much sense as her words made, he wasn't about to actually admit he hadn't understood to begin with. Dire straits or not, he had his pride as a man. So he instead scowled at the dark-skinned woman with a snarl of "I knew that!" and turned his attention back to Urahara.
"So what's that got to do with any of this?"
"Because. The only way for anyone to help her is to figure out what happened to her. In essence, to go into her soul and put the pieces back together and fix what's broken. Like working a puzzle. And the only one who can do that, is someone with harmonic reiatsu."
All of the words might not have made sense to him, but his eyes widened anyway as the overall message sank in. He could save her. By some freak twist of fate, the very thing that had brought them together in the first place was the only chance she had. Lips pressing together in a harsh line, he simply nodded.
"Then do it."
There was a moments pause as the two looked at each other before Kisuke bent over Rukia, gloved hand pressed to her forehead for a moment before he slowly drew it back, pale greenish energy collecting in his palm like a whisp of foxfire curling around his fingers, pulsing faintly with the same rhythem as the slow rise and fall of her chest. His eyes were so focused on her that he barely registered Yoruichi's palm impacting his forehead with a soft tap until he jerked back in startlement at the same green glow curling around her palm. Eyes wide and fixed on her hand, he simply watched as she pulled the whisp of green away from his head, pausing for a moment before turning and clapping her palm against the other ball of softly-swirling green in Kisuke's hand. And then, everything went black.
Orihime let out a yelp of surprise as Ichigo's body slumped forward, the only thing keeping his larger form from potentially crushing Rukia's the barrier of Chad's arm as it shot out to catch him and then lay him back beside the smaller form, chests moving in tandem. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she turned to Yoruichi, a look of concern in her gray eyes.
"Is.... is Kurosaki-kun going to be alright? And... what about Kuchiki-san?"
Yoruichi's eyes remained trained on the two unconscious figures as she resettled herself on the floor, recrossing her legs and slipping off the glove. "Only time will tell, Orihime. So all we can do now is wait. And trust Ichigo."
Shards of Spirit
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Ichigo X Rukia
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, now go read.
Spoilers: Up to current arc.
Summary:Do we ever get a second chance? An option to redo what we did wrong? And if we did, would we know what to do when it was given to us? When a mistake threatens to cost Ichigo the thing he never realized was most important, how far will he go to get it back?
Gravely injured, hovering at the brink of death, Rukia remains trapped within her mind, a prisoner to her own inner demons, while Ichigo, determined to restore her, faces not only her own darkness but the fears and illusions in his own heart by journeying into her mind itself to find her and bring the pieces of her soul back together.
If anyone had ever said that Kurosaki Ichigo didn't brood, than they obviously didn't know him very well. Hell, even people who didn't know the orange-haired shinigami very well generally had little trouble recognizing the fact that "brooding" was one of the many descriptive terms that could aptly be applied to his personage. But right now that was beside the point, seeing as there could be little mistaking the thick and oppressive aura surrounding him, an aura comprised somewhat of frustration and anger but almost moreso of a despair that was unusual for him. Despair, worry, concern... those were all emotions that Ichigo didn't have an easy time dealing with and for that same reason usually kept bottled up within where others wouldn't see. But in this case, something else had overridden that reflex action and laid them bare for others to see.
Her.
Or rather, her current status, which was to say the fact that said female shinigami was lying motionless and unresponsive a few rooms away, and there was fuck-all he could do about it. Ichigo didn't do well with situations like that, he wasn't used to not knowing what to do, to the feeling of powerlessness that seemed right now to be dragging him down into depths he didn't want to revisit. It was too much, too similar to that last time, when he'd been just a kid -- innocent, most would say, in spite of his own feelings -- and he'd been powerless against the unseen force that had taken his mother from him, completely unable to do anything against what he would learn years later was a Hollow. That day had haunted his dreams for years since, as he could never escape the guilt that he heaped on himself. And now it was happening again.
But this time, he wasn't going to be powerless. Setting his face into it's familiar scowl, orange brows drawing together across his forehead, Ichigo pushed himself up off of the floor, one hand grabbing Zangetsu as he stood up. Slinging the blade onto his back, he loped down the hallway in search of the one person who might perhaps have an answer for him.
It didn't take long to find the tall figure leaning against the wall of the back porch, Yoruichi sitting crosslegged a few feet away as both stared out at the evening dusk. It would have been a rather picturesque scene, the two longtime friends -- and he suspected something a bit more, though he'd never voiced any opinions -- enjoying a quiet evening amidst the fireflies that flitted through the summer night, but amidst the almost romantic setting was interlaced a heavy atmosphere that reeked of concern and tension. Yoruichi's eyes flickered towards him as Ichigo stepped out onto the porch, amber-brown gaze focused unerringly on the figure of Urahara Kisuke leaning against the wall and sipping nonchalantly from a cup of tea.
"Oi. Getaboushi. How do I fix her?"
There was no hesitation in his words, no hint of doubt or concern that there might not be a way to fix her. Because in Ichigo's mind that was never an option. There WAS a cure, there just had to be. And if there wasn't... then he would make one. The orange haired shinigami bristled slightly as a chuckle dropped from the older man's lips as he lowered the cup, leaning blond head back against the polished wood to slant blue-gray eyes at his younger protege. It was admirable, in more ways than one, how devoted the boy was to Rukia, and while he knew better than to press the young man about it -- though he had to admit it was amusing to watch Ichigo squirm, he had to envy Isshin the ability to do it so well -- Kisuke was no fool. Monogamy -- at least in the generally thought of terms -- may not have been his forte, and he certainly wasn't one for excessive emotions, but he knew love when he saw it and he hadn't had to point out to either Isshin OR Yoruichi how much the boy was like his father at times. Turning his head slightly, he raised an eyebrow at the younger Kurosaki.
"And what if I told you there was a way? Would you be willing to try it, no matter what the cost? Even if, were you to fail, your own soul would be the price you paid in addition to losing hers forever?"
Kisuke had to give him credit, seeing as there was only a momentary hesitation in those angry eyes before his jaw set and he nodded, fists clenching by his side. It spoke not only of courage, but of resolve and depth of feeling that the boy was so willing to place his life on the line yet again for someone close to him.
"I won't let that happen. I'll do it. Whatever it takes."
With a nod to Yoruichi, Kisuke turned and brushed past Ichigo to continue down the wall, sipping his tea as he went, not a fraction of his mannerisms in any way exhuding hurry or urgency. So steely-calm even in the wake of all that was happening, but maybe that was just Kisuke, who never seemed surprised by anything, as though everything in his world was somehow carefully measured and fed and wired through a complex interconnected web that he exercised and maintained complete control over. Completely in contrast to Ichigo, who was the picture of tension. Hands balled into fists at his sides, teeth gritted and eyes hard and angry with determination -- or was it irritation at Urahara's seeming lack of urgency -- and the resolve or stubbornness that always seemed to carry him through anything.
They made their way back to what had become Rukia's room, Kisuke simply settled himself down on the cushion beside Orihime. Taking the girl's wrist from her friend, he took a quick count of her pulse before setting it back down and pulling out a familiar dark blue glove. Or at least... it looked familiar until he pulled out a second one, tossing it past Ichigo's head to Yoruichi who caught it and plopped down on the other side of Rukia's head. Frowning for a moment, she cocked her head at Kisuke, as if to say "are you sure about this", and in another moment of seemingly soundless conversation between the two, she simply nodded before the former 12th division captain turned his gaze back to Ichigo.
"Do you know what happens when a shinigami shares their powers with another?"
It didn't seem to be a very pertinent question, especially given that they weren't talking about that, they were talking about Rukia. A fact which Ichigo began to crossly point out before he found his head forcibly planted in the floor by Yoruichi's hand as she told him to "be a good boy and shut up when someone was trying to help him out". Growling at her, he nonetheless did as she said, scowling back at Urahara and rubbing the back of his head. Bitch. How the hell was any of this supposed to help Rukia?
Seeing as his audience was now captive again, he continued, using his everpresent fan as emphasis, though to what extent was anyone's guess.
"Now, as I was saying, shinigami sharing powers with humans -- or other souls for that matter -- is an extremely rare thing. But when it occurs, a connection is made between the two souls. A reiatsu connection. In essence, it acts as a resonating frequency, causing the two soul-pulses to resonate in harmony with one another."
Ichigo had to assume that it was obvious to everyone else that he wasn't quite getting it, as Yoruichi's fist bopped him on the head with another exasperated sigh. "Pay attention, Ichigo! It means that you and she have similar reiatsu."
As much sense as her words made, he wasn't about to actually admit he hadn't understood to begin with. Dire straits or not, he had his pride as a man. So he instead scowled at the dark-skinned woman with a snarl of "I knew that!" and turned his attention back to Urahara.
"So what's that got to do with any of this?"
"Because. The only way for anyone to help her is to figure out what happened to her. In essence, to go into her soul and put the pieces back together and fix what's broken. Like working a puzzle. And the only one who can do that, is someone with harmonic reiatsu."
All of the words might not have made sense to him, but his eyes widened anyway as the overall message sank in. He could save her. By some freak twist of fate, the very thing that had brought them together in the first place was the only chance she had. Lips pressing together in a harsh line, he simply nodded.
"Then do it."
There was a moments pause as the two looked at each other before Kisuke bent over Rukia, gloved hand pressed to her forehead for a moment before he slowly drew it back, pale greenish energy collecting in his palm like a whisp of foxfire curling around his fingers, pulsing faintly with the same rhythem as the slow rise and fall of her chest. His eyes were so focused on her that he barely registered Yoruichi's palm impacting his forehead with a soft tap until he jerked back in startlement at the same green glow curling around her palm. Eyes wide and fixed on her hand, he simply watched as she pulled the whisp of green away from his head, pausing for a moment before turning and clapping her palm against the other ball of softly-swirling green in Kisuke's hand. And then, everything went black.
Orihime let out a yelp of surprise as Ichigo's body slumped forward, the only thing keeping his larger form from potentially crushing Rukia's the barrier of Chad's arm as it shot out to catch him and then lay him back beside the smaller form, chests moving in tandem. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she turned to Yoruichi, a look of concern in her gray eyes.
"Is.... is Kurosaki-kun going to be alright? And... what about Kuchiki-san?"
Yoruichi's eyes remained trained on the two unconscious figures as she resettled herself on the floor, recrossing her legs and slipping off the glove. "Only time will tell, Orihime. So all we can do now is wait. And trust Ichigo."
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