[Log] Ichigo, Isshin
Title: Quality Time, Interrupted
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Ichigo (akaadji)
Timeline: June 17, 2007
Rating: PG-13, language
Summary: Isshin doubts his abilities to carry on a father/son chat; Ichigo confirms his doubts.
Isshin padded down the stairs in a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt. Warm and loose from a long shower, he felt drained from the memorial earlier that day, and just needed a little snack before collapsing in bed.
He stuck his head in the pantry, then the refrigerator. Some leftover porkchops, crackers and beer looked perfect to him. So with plate and bottle in hand, he headed to the sofa, where he settled in and propped up his feet.
It still felt odd staying at his old home. It was nice to see his sisters again, even though the memories dampened the happiness he could get from it. It didn't matter how many years passed, he would never be past what happened. He didn't have the nightmares or anything anymore, but he still had a difficult time this time of year. Sort of a subdued feeling of dread that had peaked today, as it always did. The memorial had been Ryuuken's idea, apparently...
Ichigo stood. He felt like company...his dad was probably still up. He'd go see him.
Isshin heard footsteps descending the stairs that connected the bedrooms to the main part of the house. They were heavier than Karin's or Yuzu's. Was Ichigo coming down, instead of avoiding him as usual?
"That you, Ichigo? Chicken's in the fridge," he called.
Figures that Isshin would think that he wanted food...like he had any interest in eating right now. He shook his head. If he ate, he'd probably end up feeling sick, but his dad was just trying to be nice...
"That's nice...not hungry, though." Ichigo replied, taking a seat beside his father. ...cold pork chops and beer? Was he seriously eating that? Isshin's weird food habit weren't to be daunted by anything, it seemed...he struggled for conversation, finally settling on the only topic that was really on his mind.
"Uh...the memorial was really nice, wasn't it?"
Isshin glanced up, still mildly surprised that Ichigo wanted to talk to him.
"Yeah, it really was. I... wasn't expecting it at all." He tipped the bottle back, swallowed, and let out a long sigh. "These days get a little easier to take each year, but you still feel ass-kicked by night time...."
"Yeah...you really do..." Ichigo muttered, chewing on his lip as he thought back to earlier that day. It always made him feel a bit uncomfortable to see his father so serious and unhappy, with how accustomed he was to Isshin's more manic moods. But at the same time, it was a reminder that behind all the absurdity he was still human...
"It feels weird staying here again, you know?"
Isshin set his plate on the end table, realizing that he wasn't hungry after all, and was simply restless.
"Yeah - I bet it does," he mouth quirked in a lopsided smile. "But it's still your house, yanno? Always." He sighed. Earlier that day, he observed Ichigo at the memorial, eyes fixed and jaw tight, and it made his chest tighten painfully. he really needed to talk about this, finally.
"Listen son," he hesitated, thinking how he was probably never meant to be the parent to survive, because he always fouled up these talks, "this shell you've got - I know what's going on. And you need to understand that it wasn't your fault and no one blames you."
Always his house, huh? He was used to Isshin's loud declarations of how they were family, plain and simple, and usually he'd just nod and more or less ignore it. Not like he didn't know that, after all...but with the way Isshin had said it just now...he sighed softly to himself.
"A shell? There's no-I know it's not my fault..." Ichigo shook his head. Part of him had wanted to talk, actually talk to his father, but maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all. There was nothing going on, he didn't blame himself...of course not...
"Yeah see, you say you know it's not your fault, but then I look at you and see how you're just... hiding away. You can't fool me, son - I remember how you were before."
Isshin chewed his lip, unsure if he made things better or worse. Telling from his son's body language. he made things much worse.
"Shit. She really shoulda been the one to live, because I suck ass at this, and you kids are the ones to pay for it."
How he was before? That was a long time ago; he'd changed since then. Didn't mean that he was blaming himself or trying to fool anyone...he was just a lot different than he had been when he was a kid. That was all it was.
"Don't say things like that." The words were out of his mouth before he fully had a chance to think about them, and came out colder than he would have wanted. His father spoke like this sometimes, and it always seemed so off from his overly-cheerful persona...
How he was before? That was a long time ago; he'd changed since then. Didn't mean that he was blaming himself or trying to fool anyone...he was just a lot different than he had been when he was a kid. That was all it was.
"Don't say things like that." The words were out of his mouth before he fully had a chance to think about them, and came out colder than he would have wanted. His father spoke like this sometimes, and it always seemed so off from his overly-cheerful persona...
Isshin ignored the shortness in Ichigo's tone. "Well you know it was supposed to be me, picking you up that day," his fingers curled tight into the sofa cushion, thought his voice didn't waver. "So yeah I blame myself sometimes."
He sighed and took a long swallow of beer. The cold liquid burned down his throat.
"You know how I know you're still the same guy inside?" he cocked a brow smugly, like a gambler before laying out a royal flush. "I can hear it when you play, even when you have the amp on low and you're just working through short licks and things.
"Yeah, that's the only time I see the old you anymore." He took another drink.
Of course he knew...Isshin had mentioned that fact countless times. But it didn't matter. Whether or not he was supposed to be the one there, whether maybe if it had been him there would have been no attack or at least no death...it didn't matter. His father wasn't there; his mother was, and she was killed. Nothing could ever change that...
"When I play?" Ichigo shook his head, "There's no 'old me', dad..." He was the same way, through and through. He'd never be the same as he was when he was a kid, no matter how much his father held on to the memories. He was the way he was, and it had to just be nostalgia that reminded him of how he used to be. Not any remains of his old behavior and demeanor.
"Oh yeah?" Isshin looked squarely at Ichigo. "Is that what you'd tell her, if she were here?"
What he'd tell her? Ichigo flinched, looking away from his father and shaking his head.
"...it's true. Anything else is just memories..." He muttered, knowing even as he said it that he wasn't going to be believed. If she was here, he wouldn't have to say it. Maybe he would be different in that case, but...
"No," Isshin said firmly. "It's not all memories, because you're carrying that day around with you all the time, and that's why you put up this front.
"Dammit son, you can't live like this. You can't be happy like this, and you know that's all she'd want for you, to be happy and live your life the way you want." The words were old ones, stuck in his head as nagging thoughts that he doubted he would ever say without screwing up irreparably. But Ichigo was still here, flinching and nervous - but still here.
He'd been living this way just fine so far...successful, famous, and sure to become even more so as time went on. Didn't matter that he couldn't stand the parties and the fans, he was still doing what he loved and doing well with it. He was living life the way he wanted; making a living off of his guitar skills in a well-known band. If he was really in that bad of shape, he wouldn't have made it this far...he couldn't have. And if he wasn't as happy as he could be, that wasn't something that could be helped. It'd come, eventually...
"I..." The words wouldn't come as easily to his tongue as they did to his mind. Why couldn't he just say what he was thinking and end the conversation?
Isshin's tired brown eyes pleaded as he spoke, words softer than before.
"Ichigo - please... it's the only thing she ever wanted."
Ichigo bit back his response, this time realizing there was no way he could be convincing to Isshin. Hell, by this point, he wouldn't even be able to convince himself if he had to. This was too much for right now...he was exhausted by the service and the memories, and the reminders that this was the last thing his mother would want for him just made it worse. He stood, leaving the room quickly so that his father wouldn't have the chance to look at him like that again. It wasn't like the man, and it bothered him a lot more than he wanted to admit.
Isshin exhaled a long, exhausted sigh and listened to Ichigo's hasty, retreating footsteps.
Fucked up - maybe I shouldn't have even tried.
He leaned back against the couch and flung a forearm over his eyes.
Sorry Masaki - I just failed you again.
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Ichigo (akaadji)
Timeline: June 17, 2007
Rating: PG-13, language
Summary: Isshin doubts his abilities to carry on a father/son chat; Ichigo confirms his doubts.
Isshin padded down the stairs in a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt. Warm and loose from a long shower, he felt drained from the memorial earlier that day, and just needed a little snack before collapsing in bed.
He stuck his head in the pantry, then the refrigerator. Some leftover porkchops, crackers and beer looked perfect to him. So with plate and bottle in hand, he headed to the sofa, where he settled in and propped up his feet.
It still felt odd staying at his old home. It was nice to see his sisters again, even though the memories dampened the happiness he could get from it. It didn't matter how many years passed, he would never be past what happened. He didn't have the nightmares or anything anymore, but he still had a difficult time this time of year. Sort of a subdued feeling of dread that had peaked today, as it always did. The memorial had been Ryuuken's idea, apparently...
Ichigo stood. He felt like company...his dad was probably still up. He'd go see him.
Isshin heard footsteps descending the stairs that connected the bedrooms to the main part of the house. They were heavier than Karin's or Yuzu's. Was Ichigo coming down, instead of avoiding him as usual?
"That you, Ichigo? Chicken's in the fridge," he called.
Figures that Isshin would think that he wanted food...like he had any interest in eating right now. He shook his head. If he ate, he'd probably end up feeling sick, but his dad was just trying to be nice...
"That's nice...not hungry, though." Ichigo replied, taking a seat beside his father. ...cold pork chops and beer? Was he seriously eating that? Isshin's weird food habit weren't to be daunted by anything, it seemed...he struggled for conversation, finally settling on the only topic that was really on his mind.
"Uh...the memorial was really nice, wasn't it?"
Isshin glanced up, still mildly surprised that Ichigo wanted to talk to him.
"Yeah, it really was. I... wasn't expecting it at all." He tipped the bottle back, swallowed, and let out a long sigh. "These days get a little easier to take each year, but you still feel ass-kicked by night time...."
"Yeah...you really do..." Ichigo muttered, chewing on his lip as he thought back to earlier that day. It always made him feel a bit uncomfortable to see his father so serious and unhappy, with how accustomed he was to Isshin's more manic moods. But at the same time, it was a reminder that behind all the absurdity he was still human...
"It feels weird staying here again, you know?"
Isshin set his plate on the end table, realizing that he wasn't hungry after all, and was simply restless.
"Yeah - I bet it does," he mouth quirked in a lopsided smile. "But it's still your house, yanno? Always." He sighed. Earlier that day, he observed Ichigo at the memorial, eyes fixed and jaw tight, and it made his chest tighten painfully. he really needed to talk about this, finally.
"Listen son," he hesitated, thinking how he was probably never meant to be the parent to survive, because he always fouled up these talks, "this shell you've got - I know what's going on. And you need to understand that it wasn't your fault and no one blames you."
Always his house, huh? He was used to Isshin's loud declarations of how they were family, plain and simple, and usually he'd just nod and more or less ignore it. Not like he didn't know that, after all...but with the way Isshin had said it just now...he sighed softly to himself.
"A shell? There's no-I know it's not my fault..." Ichigo shook his head. Part of him had wanted to talk, actually talk to his father, but maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all. There was nothing going on, he didn't blame himself...of course not...
"Yeah see, you say you know it's not your fault, but then I look at you and see how you're just... hiding away. You can't fool me, son - I remember how you were before."
Isshin chewed his lip, unsure if he made things better or worse. Telling from his son's body language. he made things much worse.
"Shit. She really shoulda been the one to live, because I suck ass at this, and you kids are the ones to pay for it."
How he was before? That was a long time ago; he'd changed since then. Didn't mean that he was blaming himself or trying to fool anyone...he was just a lot different than he had been when he was a kid. That was all it was.
"Don't say things like that." The words were out of his mouth before he fully had a chance to think about them, and came out colder than he would have wanted. His father spoke like this sometimes, and it always seemed so off from his overly-cheerful persona...
How he was before? That was a long time ago; he'd changed since then. Didn't mean that he was blaming himself or trying to fool anyone...he was just a lot different than he had been when he was a kid. That was all it was.
"Don't say things like that." The words were out of his mouth before he fully had a chance to think about them, and came out colder than he would have wanted. His father spoke like this sometimes, and it always seemed so off from his overly-cheerful persona...
Isshin ignored the shortness in Ichigo's tone. "Well you know it was supposed to be me, picking you up that day," his fingers curled tight into the sofa cushion, thought his voice didn't waver. "So yeah I blame myself sometimes."
He sighed and took a long swallow of beer. The cold liquid burned down his throat.
"You know how I know you're still the same guy inside?" he cocked a brow smugly, like a gambler before laying out a royal flush. "I can hear it when you play, even when you have the amp on low and you're just working through short licks and things.
"Yeah, that's the only time I see the old you anymore." He took another drink.
Of course he knew...Isshin had mentioned that fact countless times. But it didn't matter. Whether or not he was supposed to be the one there, whether maybe if it had been him there would have been no attack or at least no death...it didn't matter. His father wasn't there; his mother was, and she was killed. Nothing could ever change that...
"When I play?" Ichigo shook his head, "There's no 'old me', dad..." He was the same way, through and through. He'd never be the same as he was when he was a kid, no matter how much his father held on to the memories. He was the way he was, and it had to just be nostalgia that reminded him of how he used to be. Not any remains of his old behavior and demeanor.
"Oh yeah?" Isshin looked squarely at Ichigo. "Is that what you'd tell her, if she were here?"
What he'd tell her? Ichigo flinched, looking away from his father and shaking his head.
"...it's true. Anything else is just memories..." He muttered, knowing even as he said it that he wasn't going to be believed. If she was here, he wouldn't have to say it. Maybe he would be different in that case, but...
"No," Isshin said firmly. "It's not all memories, because you're carrying that day around with you all the time, and that's why you put up this front.
"Dammit son, you can't live like this. You can't be happy like this, and you know that's all she'd want for you, to be happy and live your life the way you want." The words were old ones, stuck in his head as nagging thoughts that he doubted he would ever say without screwing up irreparably. But Ichigo was still here, flinching and nervous - but still here.
He'd been living this way just fine so far...successful, famous, and sure to become even more so as time went on. Didn't matter that he couldn't stand the parties and the fans, he was still doing what he loved and doing well with it. He was living life the way he wanted; making a living off of his guitar skills in a well-known band. If he was really in that bad of shape, he wouldn't have made it this far...he couldn't have. And if he wasn't as happy as he could be, that wasn't something that could be helped. It'd come, eventually...
"I..." The words wouldn't come as easily to his tongue as they did to his mind. Why couldn't he just say what he was thinking and end the conversation?
Isshin's tired brown eyes pleaded as he spoke, words softer than before.
"Ichigo - please... it's the only thing she ever wanted."
Ichigo bit back his response, this time realizing there was no way he could be convincing to Isshin. Hell, by this point, he wouldn't even be able to convince himself if he had to. This was too much for right now...he was exhausted by the service and the memories, and the reminders that this was the last thing his mother would want for him just made it worse. He stood, leaving the room quickly so that his father wouldn't have the chance to look at him like that again. It wasn't like the man, and it bothered him a lot more than he wanted to admit.
Isshin exhaled a long, exhausted sigh and listened to Ichigo's hasty, retreating footsteps.
Fucked up - maybe I shouldn't have even tried.
He leaned back against the couch and flung a forearm over his eyes.
Sorry Masaki - I just failed you again.