Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ 30Kisses ❯ The Sound of Silence ( Chapter 28 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Niu Shiy-Ue 
#17 kilohertz
I wanted to write something sad.
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.29.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 308 | Status: Work In Progress
#17 kilohertz
I wanted to write something sad.
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.29.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 308 | Status: Work In Progress
"Mommy!"
The human body is amazing, Byakuya thought, as he flash-stepped past various Sixth Division officers. Given various rambling monologues from Yamato or hours of complaints from Abarai, and he could easily ignore both. But one child, too out of breath from crying to really scream, calling for her mother, and he as fast as he is in battle. "Hush, now, little girl, I've got you." he knelt down to pick up the crying girl.
Only to be rebuffed. "No! I don't want you! I want Mommy!"
For a second, Byakuya thought his heart would stop beating. He struggled to keep a kind expression on his face. Judging from the way Abarai had flinched back, the aristocrat hadn't done a very good job. Never the less, he quickly put his arms around the dark haired girl and rubbed her back. "Sorry, Hisana, Mommy can't be here. Is it okay if Daddy helps you instead?"
Reddened, watery eyes continued to tear up, but the loud sobs began quieting down into soft hiccups. Byakuya doubted she had actually calmed down with his presence; more likely she had simply worn herself out with crying. "No, I want Mommy. Why can't she be here?"
He pulled back to examine his daughter more carefully. The cause of her distress was pretty obvious, a large, slow-bleed scrape up the side of her calf. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe, trying to clean the wound up a little. "We went over this already, Hisana. Mommy can't come back. Ever." He focused on the blood, so he wouldn't have to meet his daughter's grey eyes.
"But why!" She was still too tired to start screaming again, but he knew that didn't mean anything. "You promised! She promised! You said she'd be back in a week, after she helped Uncle 'Go!"
"I know. And Mommy tried to keep her promise. She tried really hard. But when she went to help Uncle 'Go, she got hurt. She was hurt so badly that she had to stay in the Human World so that she can heal."
Bleeding halted, if not healed, Hisana put her arms around her father's neck and allowed him to lift her up. "When she's better can she come back then?"
"Not for a very long time."
"Can I go to the Human World and see her?" At that he hesitated. While it was true that souls constantly shifted back and forth between the Spirit World and the Human World, he wasn't sure if he was ready to explain the differences to his still-young daughter. Rukia's soul would be processed back to the Living within the next fifty years, but how to tell Hisana that her mother wouldn't remember her? But he had to say something.
"Not until you're older. The passage between the Human and Spirit Worlds is very dangerous." The stress from earlier was definitely taking it's toll on the little girl and she was starting to drift off to sleep.
"Kay. But when I get big enough, we'll both go and bring her back, right Daddy?" Long-lashed eyes slipped shut, and he felt the last of the tension in her body disappear.
"Sure we will, little girl." He kissed her forehead, knowing she had already fallen asleep.
Abarai came up to him. "Do you want me to take her to the Fourth Division?" he asked.
"No, I'll bring her myself. She's had a bad time, and I want to be there when she wakes up." His vice nodded, but didn't leave.
"That was very insightful of you, sir."
"More than you expected, isn't that right?" He laughed, but the laugh was quite bitter. "I don't know how to handle this."
"Well, you seem to be doing a good job. After your parents-" he cut off the red-haired man sharply.
"I never knew my parents, Abarai. My father was gone before I was born, and my mother died giving birth to me. The only person I have ever lost is my wife." The vehemence drained out of the noble. "Twice, now." They were now making their way out of their division, towards the Fourth. "I never looked for anyone. Not my mother, not Hisana. What am I supposed to tell my daughter when she grows up? What if she actually finds her? Yes, that's your mother, but oops! I forgot to tell you that she wouldn't be the same person. Or do I keep her here in the Court of Pure Souls, just to make sure that she never finds out about that?"
The younger man just looked confused. "I don't know, sir. But I think you have a long time before you have to worry about it."
"I shouldn't have to. Rukia should still be here with us. I shouldn't have to tell Hisana her mother-" now he cut himself off. "I miss her, Renji."
And there was nothing Abarai could say about that.
When Hisana had died Byakuya had removed everything from their shared quarters. The rooms themselves had been rearranged, new furnishings bought to replace the old. Like a human cremation pyre, in place of the body that had dissolved into spirit particles, everything had burned. Her clothes, her combs, her paintings, everything had gone to ash. He had only regretted it after Rukia had come into his home and he realized he had nothing left of her sister for her. If it hadn't been for a few photos that his grandfather had thoughtfully hung on to, he would have had nothing to show her at all.
The Kuchiki heir had not done this out of spite. Rather, it was because everything Byakuya looked at had reminded him too much of her last, lingering illness. That had been the kimono she wore the day she collapsed. The glass she drank from when she took her medicine. The dresser table needed because she could no longer stand unaided in the morning. He hadn't wanted to remember Hisana that way. He wanted to remember as she had been when he fell in love with her, the beautiful geisha half-seen through the shadows and smoke. Exotic, enchanting, forbidden. Not faded and cachectic.
He can't bear to do the same to Rukia's possessions. The kimonos she wore still hang in their shared closet. Her last reports still clutter the desk. Her hairbrush, the scattered cosmetics, from the last party that they had attended the night before her last mission. He had teased her about that, asking if she wanted to take a turn being the messy one for once. The pillows still held her scent when he wakes in the mornings.
In the mornings, he deludes himself. Rukia always woke before he did; she has just stepped out for training, to eat breakfast, to turn in an emergency report, to check on Hisana. In the mornings, he can believe she is still there with him.
But late at night, it is the sound of silence that is the hardest to endure.
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The human body is amazing, Byakuya thought, as he flash-stepped past various Sixth Division officers. Given various rambling monologues from Yamato or hours of complaints from Abarai, and he could easily ignore both. But one child, too out of breath from crying to really scream, calling for her mother, and he as fast as he is in battle. "Hush, now, little girl, I've got you." he knelt down to pick up the crying girl.
Only to be rebuffed. "No! I don't want you! I want Mommy!"
For a second, Byakuya thought his heart would stop beating. He struggled to keep a kind expression on his face. Judging from the way Abarai had flinched back, the aristocrat hadn't done a very good job. Never the less, he quickly put his arms around the dark haired girl and rubbed her back. "Sorry, Hisana, Mommy can't be here. Is it okay if Daddy helps you instead?"
Reddened, watery eyes continued to tear up, but the loud sobs began quieting down into soft hiccups. Byakuya doubted she had actually calmed down with his presence; more likely she had simply worn herself out with crying. "No, I want Mommy. Why can't she be here?"
He pulled back to examine his daughter more carefully. The cause of her distress was pretty obvious, a large, slow-bleed scrape up the side of her calf. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe, trying to clean the wound up a little. "We went over this already, Hisana. Mommy can't come back. Ever." He focused on the blood, so he wouldn't have to meet his daughter's grey eyes.
"But why!" She was still too tired to start screaming again, but he knew that didn't mean anything. "You promised! She promised! You said she'd be back in a week, after she helped Uncle 'Go!"
"I know. And Mommy tried to keep her promise. She tried really hard. But when she went to help Uncle 'Go, she got hurt. She was hurt so badly that she had to stay in the Human World so that she can heal."
Bleeding halted, if not healed, Hisana put her arms around her father's neck and allowed him to lift her up. "When she's better can she come back then?"
"Not for a very long time."
"Can I go to the Human World and see her?" At that he hesitated. While it was true that souls constantly shifted back and forth between the Spirit World and the Human World, he wasn't sure if he was ready to explain the differences to his still-young daughter. Rukia's soul would be processed back to the Living within the next fifty years, but how to tell Hisana that her mother wouldn't remember her? But he had to say something.
"Not until you're older. The passage between the Human and Spirit Worlds is very dangerous." The stress from earlier was definitely taking it's toll on the little girl and she was starting to drift off to sleep.
"Kay. But when I get big enough, we'll both go and bring her back, right Daddy?" Long-lashed eyes slipped shut, and he felt the last of the tension in her body disappear.
"Sure we will, little girl." He kissed her forehead, knowing she had already fallen asleep.
Abarai came up to him. "Do you want me to take her to the Fourth Division?" he asked.
"No, I'll bring her myself. She's had a bad time, and I want to be there when she wakes up." His vice nodded, but didn't leave.
"That was very insightful of you, sir."
"More than you expected, isn't that right?" He laughed, but the laugh was quite bitter. "I don't know how to handle this."
"Well, you seem to be doing a good job. After your parents-" he cut off the red-haired man sharply.
"I never knew my parents, Abarai. My father was gone before I was born, and my mother died giving birth to me. The only person I have ever lost is my wife." The vehemence drained out of the noble. "Twice, now." They were now making their way out of their division, towards the Fourth. "I never looked for anyone. Not my mother, not Hisana. What am I supposed to tell my daughter when she grows up? What if she actually finds her? Yes, that's your mother, but oops! I forgot to tell you that she wouldn't be the same person. Or do I keep her here in the Court of Pure Souls, just to make sure that she never finds out about that?"
The younger man just looked confused. "I don't know, sir. But I think you have a long time before you have to worry about it."
"I shouldn't have to. Rukia should still be here with us. I shouldn't have to tell Hisana her mother-" now he cut himself off. "I miss her, Renji."
And there was nothing Abarai could say about that.
When Hisana had died Byakuya had removed everything from their shared quarters. The rooms themselves had been rearranged, new furnishings bought to replace the old. Like a human cremation pyre, in place of the body that had dissolved into spirit particles, everything had burned. Her clothes, her combs, her paintings, everything had gone to ash. He had only regretted it after Rukia had come into his home and he realized he had nothing left of her sister for her. If it hadn't been for a few photos that his grandfather had thoughtfully hung on to, he would have had nothing to show her at all.
The Kuchiki heir had not done this out of spite. Rather, it was because everything Byakuya looked at had reminded him too much of her last, lingering illness. That had been the kimono she wore the day she collapsed. The glass she drank from when she took her medicine. The dresser table needed because she could no longer stand unaided in the morning. He hadn't wanted to remember Hisana that way. He wanted to remember as she had been when he fell in love with her, the beautiful geisha half-seen through the shadows and smoke. Exotic, enchanting, forbidden. Not faded and cachectic.
He can't bear to do the same to Rukia's possessions. The kimonos she wore still hang in their shared closet. Her last reports still clutter the desk. Her hairbrush, the scattered cosmetics, from the last party that they had attended the night before her last mission. He had teased her about that, asking if she wanted to take a turn being the messy one for once. The pillows still held her scent when he wakes in the mornings.
In the mornings, he deludes himself. Rukia always woke before he did; she has just stepped out for training, to eat breakfast, to turn in an emergency report, to check on Hisana. In the mornings, he can believe she is still there with him.
But late at night, it is the sound of silence that is the hardest to endure.
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