Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ It Felt Like Drowning ❯ 2 ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: c2t2 
Renji knows what it means to be trash.
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Romance | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 11.25.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 497 | Visits: 210 | Status: Work In Progress
Renji knows what it means to be trash.
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Romance | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 11.25.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 497 | Visits: 210 | Status: Work In Progress
Title: It Felt Like Drowning
Author: c2t2Part 1.2
Standard disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and do not make money.
Author note: Chapters will alternate between Rukia and Renji POV until the end of arc 1. Arc 2 alternates Renji and Ichigo POV.
Arc 1
Chapter 2: Renji knows what it means to be trash.
As the hours passed, the film of sweat covering Renji’s body dripped fresh, searing pain into the thousands of tiny wounds still oozing a combination of blood and ink. The fuzzy numbness and half-seen images of pain-induced hallucination drew, beckoned, enticed him into chaotic relief.
Renji gritted his teeth and clenched his fists around the padded bar in front of him as the pain, the agonizing, lingering pain, arced its path down his body once again, its passage permanently marked.
The tattoos were for him. To be seen. He had never been able to blend, and now he could stand out with pride.
In the slums of Rukongai, you did your damnedest to avoid attention. If you caught the wrong eye, someone usually tried to kill you on sight.
Abarai Renji was an orphan of district 78. He had bright, nearly fluorescent red hair. Even before he had marked himself with ink, his body had been mapped with scars.
The tattoos were for him, the pain a catharsis. But the ghost of her fingers, a gentler, sweet touch, just as agonizing, traced each line.
Rukia.
He had left Rukongai on her whim. He’d become a shinigami at her side. He encouraged her to accept the adoption - to leave him - for her own wellbeing. He trained like a madman for forty years to be worthy of her. He achieved fuckin' bankai for her.
When she was sentenced to death, he allied with invaders. He cut down his own men. He turned on his captain and fought him, brought Byakuya to his knees.
He committed treason for her.
It was either totally badass or just pathetic. Renji leaned towards either option depending on his mood. Either way, Renji had no illusions about what he was.
Stray dogs, they’d called themselves. Slinking through the gutters with bright, hungry eyes, constantly filthy, fighting for scraps and dodging the beatings of the so-called grownups who kicked at any unwary kid passing too close.
“Inuzuri” indeed.
He was trash, little more than an animal. He knew he’d never escape. But he had hoped for better for her.
Becoming shinigami had been a step up. At least he and Rukia were no longer starving strays. She was now a pampered lapdog, with trainers and keepers and servants and never, ever free.
Renji spent his days chained in the yard.
Author: c2t2Part 1.2
Standard disclaimer: I do not own Bleach and do not make money.
Author note: Chapters will alternate between Rukia and Renji POV until the end of arc 1. Arc 2 alternates Renji and Ichigo POV.
Arc 1
Chapter 2: Renji knows what it means to be trash.
As the hours passed, the film of sweat covering Renji’s body dripped fresh, searing pain into the thousands of tiny wounds still oozing a combination of blood and ink. The fuzzy numbness and half-seen images of pain-induced hallucination drew, beckoned, enticed him into chaotic relief.
Renji gritted his teeth and clenched his fists around the padded bar in front of him as the pain, the agonizing, lingering pain, arced its path down his body once again, its passage permanently marked.
The tattoos were for him. To be seen. He had never been able to blend, and now he could stand out with pride.
In the slums of Rukongai, you did your damnedest to avoid attention. If you caught the wrong eye, someone usually tried to kill you on sight.
Abarai Renji was an orphan of district 78. He had bright, nearly fluorescent red hair. Even before he had marked himself with ink, his body had been mapped with scars.
The tattoos were for him, the pain a catharsis. But the ghost of her fingers, a gentler, sweet touch, just as agonizing, traced each line.
Rukia.
He had left Rukongai on her whim. He’d become a shinigami at her side. He encouraged her to accept the adoption - to leave him - for her own wellbeing. He trained like a madman for forty years to be worthy of her. He achieved fuckin' bankai for her.
When she was sentenced to death, he allied with invaders. He cut down his own men. He turned on his captain and fought him, brought Byakuya to his knees.
He committed treason for her.
It was either totally badass or just pathetic. Renji leaned towards either option depending on his mood. Either way, Renji had no illusions about what he was.
Stray dogs, they’d called themselves. Slinking through the gutters with bright, hungry eyes, constantly filthy, fighting for scraps and dodging the beatings of the so-called grownups who kicked at any unwary kid passing too close.
“Inuzuri” indeed.
He was trash, little more than an animal. He knew he’d never escape. But he had hoped for better for her.
Becoming shinigami had been a step up. At least he and Rukia were no longer starving strays. She was now a pampered lapdog, with trainers and keepers and servants and never, ever free.
Renji spent his days chained in the yard.