[Log] Isshin, Ryuuken
Title: Talking to the Stone
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Ryuuken (thenakedcat)
Timeline: August 5, 1994
Rating: PG
Summary: On the 49th day, the ghost leaves this world and Ryuuken and Isshin see her off.
His eyes focused on the tapered toes of his dark brown shoes, first the right, then the left, as they moved him forward. There was something comforting about it, the rhythm and the certainty that after one left his view, the next would follow.
Isshin told himself that he was only going down to the corner coffeeshop for a cup of something sweet, but his feet never stopped at the door - they simply continued northward that morning. Ryuuken would be by soon to meet him, so he knew he should head back. Of course he was going to - but since he was nearly at the end of the block, he may as well round it and head back via the next street over.
His feet, though, carried him forward through the intersection, and Isshin just watched them go.
In a better world, Ryuuken would be surprised by the fact that Isshin wasn't waiting for him outside the townhouse. But only a in better world, not in THIS world where Isshin seemed determined to just start down the road and never stop. The Energizer Bunny of psychotic grieving. And so Ryuuken had merely sighed and instructed the cab driver to go to the coffeeshop at the corner...and then to proceed in a straight line from there. He'd learned Isshin's walking habits at least THAT well in the last 7 weeks.
Just under a mile out beyond the coffeeshop, he caught sight of a big man in a dark suit, walking with his gaze cast down. "Pull over and wait, please," he called out, and got over to the passenger's side to open the door.
"ISSHIN. HERE. NOW."
Isshin tore his eyes away from the pavement as if startled out of a dream. He didn't round the corner and head back home? He guessed not. With a mild feeling of dread, he approached the cab. There was no point in making excuses, and he didn't even have a styrofoam cup of joe in his hand to offer as an explanation.
He slid into the backseat next to Ryuuken, pulled the door closed, and sat with his eyes forward. "Sorry," was all he mumbled.
Ryuuken slid back to the left to make room for Isshin, arranging himself primly before buckling up, not acknowledging the half-hearted apology except to hand the other man an armful of flower garlands and a box of incense. "To the Cypress Hills Cemetery, please."
Isshin took the items stonily and felt as if he were going to die. He knew this was important, and that Ryuuken would never let him get out of this. There was no escape, and now with these tangible reminders in his hands and their scents in his nose, he couldn't even pretend they were going somewhere else.
He watched as the buildings and trucks passed his window, the scenery shifting into more familiar scenes from years past. But every time he tried to conjure memories of his childhood, something ripped him back to the cab and the purpose of this morning's trip.
"I don't know why people have traditions for this, anyway - stuff like this should be private and personal, anyway." What Isshin meant was that he wanted more than anything else to be back in bed, clutching some reminder of Masaki to his chest and crying until there were no more tears.
It was tying Ryuuken's stomach in knots to have to force Isshin on like this, and to watch his obvious pain at having to make this pilgrimage. But his face remained neutral and implacable. Seven weeks to the day, now, and by tradition that was when ghosts took their final leave of the mortal world. It wasn't something Isshin necessarily put a lot of stock in, but Ryuuken knew to the marrow of his bones that his friend would regret it if he didn't mark the day somehow. So onward they went. "They have traditions like this because, quite frankly, people like you and me suck at grieving. At least this way we know what's expected of us."
Inside, Isshin scoffed and protested to the heavens. He wanted to die, dammit, he was completely lost in this world without Masaki - and yet he "sucked" at grieving. He couldn't imagine an end to the grief, convinced that this nauseatingly empty feeling would gnaw at every minute of his miserable life until he fell dead.
"People like us should be left alone," he said at length and in a barely audible voice. His words chilled him, surprised that he would ever say something like that.
"And how, exactly, does this square with literally dragging me into the ER and then visiting me every day for the next five weeks?" Once again, Ryuuken should have been surprised, but wasn't. He knew all too well how much crazy, nasty shit someone could spew in the throws of grief.
"That was different," was his automatic response.
As if logic and reason could be applied to this feeling, the flipside of love. Could reason explain why Ryuuken worked himself to the point of exhaustion, in order to escape his pain? Even now, so many years later, Ryuuken still struggled with it, and Isshin's spirits sank even lower as he thought of his own pathetic, empty future.
The cab turned and went through the gates of the cemetery, and proceeded slowly up the narrow path. Isshin's gut wrenched and felt like he needed to puke.
"Yeah, that was different. I didn't try to walk myself to death." He fell silent out of respect as they passed through the gates of the cemetery, mentally running through a couple Hail Marys to put himself in the right mindset. Even with the familiar prayer echoing in his mind, it was still disheartening to come in sight of Masaki's grave, barely covered with a thin growth of new grass.
Isshin's grip was tight around the car's door handle. If he could only hold onto it longer, he wouldn't have to approach that stone marker that bore his beloved's name. The incense and flowers were loose in his other hand. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to pretend this wasn't where he was - to separate his mind and heart from his body. And when he felt he had been successful in doing so, he let go of the car, and walked as resolutely as possible to the spot - without actually having his eyes settle on the gravestone.
Ryuuken paused to confer briefly with the driver before sliding out after Isshin. He kept a respectful distance behind his friend, not wanting to intrude more than he absolutely had to. Isshin needed to do this by himself, and Masaki didn't need a quarrel on her doorstep.
Isshin stood at the foot of her grave, still not looking directly at it. With a held breath, he laid the flowers on the dark earth, pausing just long enough to get his footing and push himself back upright. As he stood again in front of her grave, he felt his stomach knot up again, and he couldn't get himself steady enough to light the incense. His heart wanted to jump down and join Masaki where she lay - his head was busy trying to convince his hands that this was just like lighting a cigarette, and meant nothing more.
From behind Isshin there came a quiet, tired, but not out-of-hope sigh. Then Ryuuken's slender hands reached around to curl over his own and guide them through the act of lighting the incense. Once it was accomplished, he began softly intoning a sutra, velvety voice rising and falling in a comforting rhythm.
But it didn't comfort Isshin at all - it threatened to make him lose his nerve. He could still feel Ryuuken's cool hands on his as he held the incense sticks between his palms and shook them three times. He tried to block out Ryuuken's voice, and the gravestone, and the incense smoke that wrapped around him and the flowers, but found them creeping into his consciousness and yanking him out of his trance. His chest clenched as he forced himself to kneel and set the incense into the sand-filled holder.
He tried to calm his breaths, but found they were catching around the lump forming in his throat. He set his hands in front of himself, and touched his forehead to the ground, shoulders stiffening in hopes of keeping them from shaking.
Ryuuken reached the end of the chant, and knelt beside Isshin. "Dear friend, may your journey to the other realm be swift and straight. May you watch over your beautiful children and your beloved idiot for all their days. And may you grant me the patience and forbearance to help them along."
Isshin didn't dare glance to his side, but kept his eyes shut and forehead pressed to the ground as the tears gathered on his lashes. He was thankful for Ryuuken giving his voice when he couldn't find his own, but it made his shoulders shake even more. A long moment passed before he opened his mouth to speak, only to have a sob escape.
Not heeding the dirt staining the knees of his suit, Ryuuken shifted around in front of Isshin, wiping the tears from his friend's eyes, wrapping him in a hug. "It's alright to let it out, you know."
The attention to his tear-tracked face only made them flow more freely. Isshin buried his face against Ryuuken's shoulder, inhaling great, shuddering breaths between sobs. He struggled to speak and failed several times before he could finally control his breath enough to do so. "'Fraid I'll never stop -- if I do," he whispered, lump still aching in his throat. He glanced with trepidation at the granite monument that bore his wife's name.
Gentle hands stroked Isshin's hair and shoulders, settling in for a long haul. "You'll cry yourself out eventually...and I paid the driver for the whole afternoon." It was hard, so hard, having to watch Isshin go through this, bringing up memories of Alex's death that kept him up at night. But it would have been so much worse to let Isshin go through this alone, like Ryuuken had, in self-imposed isolation.
Ryuuken's ministrations soothed Isshin's raw nerves, and he found his skin craving the touch that, bit by bit, reassured him that he could continue. It was a touch that knew the pain and had found its way through it, as impossible as it seemed. The comfort drew more tears out of Isshin, from a deeper and more selfish place, unlike the polite tears that people can dab away with a single tissue and expect never to return. He clung to Ryuuken's shoulders for support as he cried for all the things he'd never have again, and for the things he'd hoped that would never come to pass.
Ryuuken was quiet, very quiet, as he waited for Isshin to get it all out. Words would have been an intrusion on a moment that needed to stay between just the two of them. They should be saved for comforting the Kurosaki children with, because even as inept as Ryuuken was at dealing with kids, Isshin certainly wasn't going to be able to step up to the plate for that.
It felt as if the entire afternoon passed before Isshin was done sobbing all over his friend, because he felt tired down to his bones. His eyes were sore, as was his throat, when he finally pulled away from Ryuuken and half-heartedly wiped at his remaining tears with a handkerchief. "I - uh - I wanna try and talk to her myself, a little," he glanced up at Ryuuken, meeting his eyes for the first time since the cab pulled up.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Ryuuken finished cleaning up Isshin's face and stood up--cramped muscles protesting. "I'll be waiting for you in the cab." He patted Isshin's shoulder, and then left him to it.
Isshin regarded the smooth stone slab. It wasn't ever how he wanted to picture Masaki, and that fear made him dislike it deeply. He touched it gingerly, smoothing his hand over he name as he searched for the words.
"Honeybun - I'm goin' through hell over here," he swallowed as his eyes stung anew. "And this is awkward as shit talking to you this way, but I guess it's - I guess it's the way it has to be for... a while, yeah?"
"I'm missing you like crazy and I'm outta my mind trying to figure out how I'm gonna go on but... like 'Ken said, if you're watching over me and the kids, then it's not like you've left us completely.
"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry for not saving you, and - and I'm glad 'Ken's way over there so he can't hear me saying this, but it's how I feel, and I don't think that'll ever change. But... but I'm gonna try. So that when you're looking down over here, you'll be happy."
Isshin's hand gripped the stone as he rose to his feet. Slowly he stepped back, clasped his hands together for a moment, and turned back to the cab.
The door was already open for Isshin by the time he reached the cab. Ryuuken looked him in the eye as he stepped in, watchful but not judgmental. "Do you want to go directly home, or do you want to clean up at my place first?"
Isshin glanced down at the wet mudstains on his knees, and imagined his face looked pretty bad, too. Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu would likely have many questions about what he was doing in the mud, and he felt tired just thinking how he might explain it away. "Let's head to your house first."
He leaned back in the seat, eyes closed. "Thanks for this, 'Ken," he murmured, sounding tired but more like himself than before.
Ryuuken nodded, and signaled to the driver. As the car slid slowly back out of the cemetery, his arm slipped to rest around Isshin's shoulders.
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Ryuuken (thenakedcat)
Timeline: August 5, 1994
Rating: PG
Summary: On the 49th day, the ghost leaves this world and Ryuuken and Isshin see her off.
His eyes focused on the tapered toes of his dark brown shoes, first the right, then the left, as they moved him forward. There was something comforting about it, the rhythm and the certainty that after one left his view, the next would follow.
Isshin told himself that he was only going down to the corner coffeeshop for a cup of something sweet, but his feet never stopped at the door - they simply continued northward that morning. Ryuuken would be by soon to meet him, so he knew he should head back. Of course he was going to - but since he was nearly at the end of the block, he may as well round it and head back via the next street over.
His feet, though, carried him forward through the intersection, and Isshin just watched them go.
In a better world, Ryuuken would be surprised by the fact that Isshin wasn't waiting for him outside the townhouse. But only a in better world, not in THIS world where Isshin seemed determined to just start down the road and never stop. The Energizer Bunny of psychotic grieving. And so Ryuuken had merely sighed and instructed the cab driver to go to the coffeeshop at the corner...and then to proceed in a straight line from there. He'd learned Isshin's walking habits at least THAT well in the last 7 weeks.
Just under a mile out beyond the coffeeshop, he caught sight of a big man in a dark suit, walking with his gaze cast down. "Pull over and wait, please," he called out, and got over to the passenger's side to open the door.
"ISSHIN. HERE. NOW."
Isshin tore his eyes away from the pavement as if startled out of a dream. He didn't round the corner and head back home? He guessed not. With a mild feeling of dread, he approached the cab. There was no point in making excuses, and he didn't even have a styrofoam cup of joe in his hand to offer as an explanation.
He slid into the backseat next to Ryuuken, pulled the door closed, and sat with his eyes forward. "Sorry," was all he mumbled.
Ryuuken slid back to the left to make room for Isshin, arranging himself primly before buckling up, not acknowledging the half-hearted apology except to hand the other man an armful of flower garlands and a box of incense. "To the Cypress Hills Cemetery, please."
Isshin took the items stonily and felt as if he were going to die. He knew this was important, and that Ryuuken would never let him get out of this. There was no escape, and now with these tangible reminders in his hands and their scents in his nose, he couldn't even pretend they were going somewhere else.
He watched as the buildings and trucks passed his window, the scenery shifting into more familiar scenes from years past. But every time he tried to conjure memories of his childhood, something ripped him back to the cab and the purpose of this morning's trip.
"I don't know why people have traditions for this, anyway - stuff like this should be private and personal, anyway." What Isshin meant was that he wanted more than anything else to be back in bed, clutching some reminder of Masaki to his chest and crying until there were no more tears.
It was tying Ryuuken's stomach in knots to have to force Isshin on like this, and to watch his obvious pain at having to make this pilgrimage. But his face remained neutral and implacable. Seven weeks to the day, now, and by tradition that was when ghosts took their final leave of the mortal world. It wasn't something Isshin necessarily put a lot of stock in, but Ryuuken knew to the marrow of his bones that his friend would regret it if he didn't mark the day somehow. So onward they went. "They have traditions like this because, quite frankly, people like you and me suck at grieving. At least this way we know what's expected of us."
Inside, Isshin scoffed and protested to the heavens. He wanted to die, dammit, he was completely lost in this world without Masaki - and yet he "sucked" at grieving. He couldn't imagine an end to the grief, convinced that this nauseatingly empty feeling would gnaw at every minute of his miserable life until he fell dead.
"People like us should be left alone," he said at length and in a barely audible voice. His words chilled him, surprised that he would ever say something like that.
"And how, exactly, does this square with literally dragging me into the ER and then visiting me every day for the next five weeks?" Once again, Ryuuken should have been surprised, but wasn't. He knew all too well how much crazy, nasty shit someone could spew in the throws of grief.
"That was different," was his automatic response.
As if logic and reason could be applied to this feeling, the flipside of love. Could reason explain why Ryuuken worked himself to the point of exhaustion, in order to escape his pain? Even now, so many years later, Ryuuken still struggled with it, and Isshin's spirits sank even lower as he thought of his own pathetic, empty future.
The cab turned and went through the gates of the cemetery, and proceeded slowly up the narrow path. Isshin's gut wrenched and felt like he needed to puke.
"Yeah, that was different. I didn't try to walk myself to death." He fell silent out of respect as they passed through the gates of the cemetery, mentally running through a couple Hail Marys to put himself in the right mindset. Even with the familiar prayer echoing in his mind, it was still disheartening to come in sight of Masaki's grave, barely covered with a thin growth of new grass.
Isshin's grip was tight around the car's door handle. If he could only hold onto it longer, he wouldn't have to approach that stone marker that bore his beloved's name. The incense and flowers were loose in his other hand. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to pretend this wasn't where he was - to separate his mind and heart from his body. And when he felt he had been successful in doing so, he let go of the car, and walked as resolutely as possible to the spot - without actually having his eyes settle on the gravestone.
Ryuuken paused to confer briefly with the driver before sliding out after Isshin. He kept a respectful distance behind his friend, not wanting to intrude more than he absolutely had to. Isshin needed to do this by himself, and Masaki didn't need a quarrel on her doorstep.
Isshin stood at the foot of her grave, still not looking directly at it. With a held breath, he laid the flowers on the dark earth, pausing just long enough to get his footing and push himself back upright. As he stood again in front of her grave, he felt his stomach knot up again, and he couldn't get himself steady enough to light the incense. His heart wanted to jump down and join Masaki where she lay - his head was busy trying to convince his hands that this was just like lighting a cigarette, and meant nothing more.
From behind Isshin there came a quiet, tired, but not out-of-hope sigh. Then Ryuuken's slender hands reached around to curl over his own and guide them through the act of lighting the incense. Once it was accomplished, he began softly intoning a sutra, velvety voice rising and falling in a comforting rhythm.
But it didn't comfort Isshin at all - it threatened to make him lose his nerve. He could still feel Ryuuken's cool hands on his as he held the incense sticks between his palms and shook them three times. He tried to block out Ryuuken's voice, and the gravestone, and the incense smoke that wrapped around him and the flowers, but found them creeping into his consciousness and yanking him out of his trance. His chest clenched as he forced himself to kneel and set the incense into the sand-filled holder.
He tried to calm his breaths, but found they were catching around the lump forming in his throat. He set his hands in front of himself, and touched his forehead to the ground, shoulders stiffening in hopes of keeping them from shaking.
Ryuuken reached the end of the chant, and knelt beside Isshin. "Dear friend, may your journey to the other realm be swift and straight. May you watch over your beautiful children and your beloved idiot for all their days. And may you grant me the patience and forbearance to help them along."
Isshin didn't dare glance to his side, but kept his eyes shut and forehead pressed to the ground as the tears gathered on his lashes. He was thankful for Ryuuken giving his voice when he couldn't find his own, but it made his shoulders shake even more. A long moment passed before he opened his mouth to speak, only to have a sob escape.
Not heeding the dirt staining the knees of his suit, Ryuuken shifted around in front of Isshin, wiping the tears from his friend's eyes, wrapping him in a hug. "It's alright to let it out, you know."
The attention to his tear-tracked face only made them flow more freely. Isshin buried his face against Ryuuken's shoulder, inhaling great, shuddering breaths between sobs. He struggled to speak and failed several times before he could finally control his breath enough to do so. "'Fraid I'll never stop -- if I do," he whispered, lump still aching in his throat. He glanced with trepidation at the granite monument that bore his wife's name.
Gentle hands stroked Isshin's hair and shoulders, settling in for a long haul. "You'll cry yourself out eventually...and I paid the driver for the whole afternoon." It was hard, so hard, having to watch Isshin go through this, bringing up memories of Alex's death that kept him up at night. But it would have been so much worse to let Isshin go through this alone, like Ryuuken had, in self-imposed isolation.
Ryuuken's ministrations soothed Isshin's raw nerves, and he found his skin craving the touch that, bit by bit, reassured him that he could continue. It was a touch that knew the pain and had found its way through it, as impossible as it seemed. The comfort drew more tears out of Isshin, from a deeper and more selfish place, unlike the polite tears that people can dab away with a single tissue and expect never to return. He clung to Ryuuken's shoulders for support as he cried for all the things he'd never have again, and for the things he'd hoped that would never come to pass.
Ryuuken was quiet, very quiet, as he waited for Isshin to get it all out. Words would have been an intrusion on a moment that needed to stay between just the two of them. They should be saved for comforting the Kurosaki children with, because even as inept as Ryuuken was at dealing with kids, Isshin certainly wasn't going to be able to step up to the plate for that.
It felt as if the entire afternoon passed before Isshin was done sobbing all over his friend, because he felt tired down to his bones. His eyes were sore, as was his throat, when he finally pulled away from Ryuuken and half-heartedly wiped at his remaining tears with a handkerchief. "I - uh - I wanna try and talk to her myself, a little," he glanced up at Ryuuken, meeting his eyes for the first time since the cab pulled up.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Ryuuken finished cleaning up Isshin's face and stood up--cramped muscles protesting. "I'll be waiting for you in the cab." He patted Isshin's shoulder, and then left him to it.
Isshin regarded the smooth stone slab. It wasn't ever how he wanted to picture Masaki, and that fear made him dislike it deeply. He touched it gingerly, smoothing his hand over he name as he searched for the words.
"Honeybun - I'm goin' through hell over here," he swallowed as his eyes stung anew. "And this is awkward as shit talking to you this way, but I guess it's - I guess it's the way it has to be for... a while, yeah?"
"I'm missing you like crazy and I'm outta my mind trying to figure out how I'm gonna go on but... like 'Ken said, if you're watching over me and the kids, then it's not like you've left us completely.
"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry for not saving you, and - and I'm glad 'Ken's way over there so he can't hear me saying this, but it's how I feel, and I don't think that'll ever change. But... but I'm gonna try. So that when you're looking down over here, you'll be happy."
Isshin's hand gripped the stone as he rose to his feet. Slowly he stepped back, clasped his hands together for a moment, and turned back to the cab.
The door was already open for Isshin by the time he reached the cab. Ryuuken looked him in the eye as he stepped in, watchful but not judgmental. "Do you want to go directly home, or do you want to clean up at my place first?"
Isshin glanced down at the wet mudstains on his knees, and imagined his face looked pretty bad, too. Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu would likely have many questions about what he was doing in the mud, and he felt tired just thinking how he might explain it away. "Let's head to your house first."
He leaned back in the seat, eyes closed. "Thanks for this, 'Ken," he murmured, sounding tired but more like himself than before.
Ryuuken nodded, and signaled to the driver. As the car slid slowly back out of the cemetery, his arm slipped to rest around Isshin's shoulders.