(no subject)
originally posted here
Title: monotony's end
Prompt: 21. time held on
Word Count: 428
Summary: Tsuzuki contemplates his unusually long stay in the department, and what it means to wait for meaning.
Author Notes/Warnings: I'm not feeling emo, but I read a shitload of dark fic which therefore put me in a really rare writing mood. |D Oi. Dunno where I'm going with this.
Concrit very much appreciated. I'm not a writer. At all. This is not going to become a habit or a hobby. But I'd still like to know where I can improve, nonetheless.
Daylight, while lovely and comforting, had an unfortunate habit of bringing monotony with it. Tsuzuki had learned over seventy years that immortality was one of those things humanity wished for without really knowing what it entailed; anybody with any sense at all would be happy with the time they got and be done with it. Some days passed by at a pace that would be alarming if it didn't feel like his head was filled with cotton. Other days went so slow it made his limbs ache with heaviness and lethargy, and it was almost as if he were hyper-aware of everything. The feel of cotton against his skin, the long seconds it took to walk from his desk to Tatsumi's office, the gentle curve of the sunlight beaming through the office window.
He still didn't know which he hated more.
He could play the fool as much as he liked, and no one would call him out on his endless bluffing no matter how much they saw through it. He could go on pretending he didn't know what everyone was saying about Kyoto. That he was showing his age, that he wouldn't last much longer, that it was only a matter of time before he screwed up on a mission and got himself killed for good. He was the second oldest shinigami in the division. There was a reason shinigami didn't last long.
Several, really. Tsuzuki had seen all of them at work over his long penance. He had always suspected that this would be his way to go. Seventy year senility at a permanent twenty six. He never wanted to really figure out the existential irony in that.
Still, he knew better than anybody that he was very lucky.
Tsuzuki had seen others and their minds crumble over the long years, seen them become too reckless in missions, seen them take their lives in desperation and an almost fierce relief. Perhaps dragging a few with them while they were at it. Sometimes there had been warning signs that others either ignored or tried to address as quickly as possible. Either method rarely worked, not for long. Sometimes the burn-out approached without warning. Whatever the case, there had been no one invested enough to try to save the bastard if it meant risking their own lives.
No one had jumped in the fire for them.
No one had begged for them to live for their sake.
Tsuzuki had someone who did. And he was beginning to know that it - he - just might have been worth the wait.
Title: monotony's end
Prompt: 21. time held on
Word Count: 428
Summary: Tsuzuki contemplates his unusually long stay in the department, and what it means to wait for meaning.
Author Notes/Warnings: I'm not feeling emo, but I read a shitload of dark fic which therefore put me in a really rare writing mood. |D Oi. Dunno where I'm going with this.
Concrit very much appreciated. I'm not a writer. At all. This is not going to become a habit or a hobby. But I'd still like to know where I can improve, nonetheless.
Daylight, while lovely and comforting, had an unfortunate habit of bringing monotony with it. Tsuzuki had learned over seventy years that immortality was one of those things humanity wished for without really knowing what it entailed; anybody with any sense at all would be happy with the time they got and be done with it. Some days passed by at a pace that would be alarming if it didn't feel like his head was filled with cotton. Other days went so slow it made his limbs ache with heaviness and lethargy, and it was almost as if he were hyper-aware of everything. The feel of cotton against his skin, the long seconds it took to walk from his desk to Tatsumi's office, the gentle curve of the sunlight beaming through the office window.
He still didn't know which he hated more.
He could play the fool as much as he liked, and no one would call him out on his endless bluffing no matter how much they saw through it. He could go on pretending he didn't know what everyone was saying about Kyoto. That he was showing his age, that he wouldn't last much longer, that it was only a matter of time before he screwed up on a mission and got himself killed for good. He was the second oldest shinigami in the division. There was a reason shinigami didn't last long.
Several, really. Tsuzuki had seen all of them at work over his long penance. He had always suspected that this would be his way to go. Seventy year senility at a permanent twenty six. He never wanted to really figure out the existential irony in that.
Still, he knew better than anybody that he was very lucky.
Tsuzuki had seen others and their minds crumble over the long years, seen them become too reckless in missions, seen them take their lives in desperation and an almost fierce relief. Perhaps dragging a few with them while they were at it. Sometimes there had been warning signs that others either ignored or tried to address as quickly as possible. Either method rarely worked, not for long. Sometimes the burn-out approached without warning. Whatever the case, there had been no one invested enough to try to save the bastard if it meant risking their own lives.
No one had jumped in the fire for them.
No one had begged for them to live for their sake.
Tsuzuki had someone who did. And he was beginning to know that it - he - just might have been worth the wait.