[fic] Surrender the Mind (Chapter 1 of 9)
Series Title: Surrender the Mind
Chapter Title: Starting Again (Chapter 1 of 9, plus an Epilogue)
Author: creepy_crawly
Characters/Pairings: ByakuyaxUryuu, UraharaxRyuuken.
Rating: For this chapter? R. For entire series? NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi
Disclaimer: No own. No money. No shame.
Summary: Two years after Surrender the Body, Ishida Uryuu is forced to go back on his vow once more, and face Byakuya once again.
“I heard from Ishida this week,” Orihime said, looking up from her dinner as she spoke. “He called me, again.”
Ichigo, too, looked up. “You heard from him? How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing well, as usual,” she answered, tucking one long strand of hair behind her ear. She fiddled with her chopsticks for a moment. “They’re talking about sending him to the United States again.”
“What’s in America?” Rukia asked. She hadn’t been in the human world in a while, being too busy with the problems of Soul Society to be spared. Still, things had settled down enough to allow her to return to her normal patrol. Upon finding out that she was back in Karakura, Orihime had insisted on inviting her to join their weekly get-together.
“Some medical program,” Ichigo told her, grimacing. “At least once a month, they ask Ishida to go. And at least once a month, he turns them down.”
“He says he wants to complete his medical degree in Tokyo,” Orihime continued. “And he’s very close to doing that, I think.”
“Which is early,” Ichigo said, swallowing the mouthful of food he had. “But Ishida’s dad pulled some strings or something.”
Orihime shot him a look, delicately finishing the piece of beef she had been nibbling on. “We’re not quite sure,” she explained, “because, for whatever reason, Ishida’s not speaking to Ichigo again.”
“Another promise to his father?” Rukia asked Ichigo.
The redhead shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, that didn’t stop him last time, but… It certainly sounds like it. There for a while, just before graduation, there were almost no Hollows here-Ishida took care of all of them in seconds. Now, whoever Soul Society’s got in Tokyo probably has a very cushy job.”
Disturbed, Rukia made a mental note to examine the reports from Tokyo. There were five Shinigami stationed in the city. If they really were having an easier time… She’d seen just how efficiently the young Quincy could handle Hollows before. If he had, as Orihime and Ichigo were suggesting, been training with his father, then he would be even better. There was no point in wasting Shinigami on an already protected area, anyway. If all that was needed was that soul burials be performed, then surely the patrols on Tokyo could be reduced, and their Shinigami redirected, which would, in turn, reduce the strain on the other Shinigami…
“Stop thinking, dumbass,” Ichigo snorted, elbowing her upper arm lightly. “Surely hanging out with us is more fun than thinking about work.”
Rukia laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she conceded. “So. Aside from the Americans wanting Ishida, what’s been going on in your lives?”
Orihime brightened almost immediately. “Well,” she said proudly, “I’m at the top of my class in school! I’m doing really well.”
“That’s really good!” Rukia said, smiling at her. “You’re studying to be a teacher, right?”
Orihime nodded. “I think I’m going to teach a primary grade. Maybe kindergarten. Next semester, I have to student teach, so I’m deciding which teacher I want to student teach with. I’m not quite sure what grade level I want to work with, though, so I need to hurry up and decide that.”
Rukia smiled at the redheaded girl. Orihime Inoue would make a great kindergarten teacher, she decided. The girl was bubbly and bright, irrepressible even after everything that had happened in the Hueco Mundo and during the Winter War. Immediately after the war, Orihime had been quiet and withdrawn, which, while discomfiting, was judged to be a side-effect of the war. Rukia had been sad to leave the human world with the human girl still quiet and lacking her usual effervescence.
Clearly, though, she had healed. Seeing her now was like seeing her before the war, before she was held prisoner in the Hueco Mundo. Perhaps Matsumoto’s presence had had something to do with that. The two women got on incredibly well, each seeing something of themselves in the other. Orihime looked up to Matsumoto, Rukia knew, and Matsumoto seemed to see the human girl as something of a long lost sister. It was a comfort to both of them.
“I think you’d make a great kindergarten teacher,” Rukia said, her smile growing. “Think about it…you’d get to play with them, not be bossy.”
“I know! And they’re so cute…” Orihime sighed, her eyes twinkling. “Anyway, that’s what’s going on for me.”
Ichigo shook his head, still smiling at Orihime’s obvious joy. “I’m not doing much,” he admitted. “Writing a lot, but, then again, I am in college for a creative writing degree, so I suppose that that’s only to be expected, right?”
“How’s your manuscript going?” Rukia asked, slurping her drink as she watched him.
“Slowly,” Ichigo replied sourly. “Very slowly. The publisher is being patient, though, so I suppose I should follow their lead and give myself the benefit of the doubt.”
“Some days,” Orihime volunteered, “he goes out Hollow hunting just to avoid working on his book!”
Rukia laughed, watching the way the redheaded boy’s face lit up, first with shame and then with anger. Orihime ducked the playful swat he aimed in her direction, still laughing.
----
“My feet are killing me,” Tatsuki whined, leaning against Chad’s strong body as she adjusted the strap on her high heels. “Remind me again why we do these damn things?”
“Because it brings in an absolute ton of money,” Chad replied calmly, placing a large, calming hand on her shoulder. “The parents like to know who their children are learning from. And the gym pays us overtime to be here.”
“I’d rather skip the heels and the overtime,” Tatsuki grumped. “At least you just have to wear a suit. I have to get all dressed up. Dress, heels, make-up-the whole nine yards!”
“Have you ever tried to find a suit in my size?” Chad asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “And I hate ties. And we’re missing dinner with Orihime and Ichigo and Rukia.”
“Told you these banquets sucked,” Tatsuki muttered, under her breath as she pushed open the door to the banquet hall.
It was crowded with people, most of who were seated at their tables already. Some still stood around, talking to one another, gossiping about this and that. Some of the children beamed and waved at Chad and Tatsuki as they entered the room; some of their older students smiled and gave tiny waves of acknowledgement.
In order to pay for college, both Tatsuki and Chad had begun to work as instructors at the dojo she had taken lessons in her whole life. Tatsuki taught the more traditional martial arts; Chad had started a class on street fighting. The owners of the dojo had offered him an incredibly large paycheck after a local news station had done a segment on how his program was both keeping kids off the streets and keeping them safer, but he had turned them down. They were both growing quite old, after all, and it was just a job for him to pay for higher education. Besides, he liked the children.
Tatsuki’s obvious love of her sport and her protectiveness of all of the children she taught had made her incredibly popular with her students and their parents. She carried one of the heaviest class loads, and every penny of it went to paying for her to go to school. She was determined to get a degree in sports education so that she could come back and keep teaching at the dojo. At the same time, the head coach of the Japanese Olympic team had begun to come to her matches and court her, trying to get her to agree to go the next Olympic games.
“Come on,” Chad whispered in her ear, leading her to the instructors’ table with a firm hand on her elbow. “Faster we get this started, the faster this gets done.”
Tatsuki shot him a dirty look but allowed the gentle giant to steer her over towards all of their colleagues.
----
“Still not sleeping well?” Unohana asked gently, looking at the shinigami seated across from her over the rim of her teacup. “Have you been doing everything we talked about last time, Byakuya-kun?”
“I have, Unohana-san,” he answered. The exhaustion was plain in his voice; it wore on him like a heavy cold, blunting the usually elegant tone. Dark circles ringed his eyes, though he only allowed the Fourth Division taichou to see them. In front of everyone else, he made a point of hiding them. No sense in letting others see his shame. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine and other stimulants, I’ve been taking long walks, and I’ve even begun to release bankai before going to bed every night. Nothing works.”
“And so you get out of bed, come into your office, and work on your paperwork,” Unohana finished shrewdly, still watching the calm, quiet noble. “Very well. I didn’t want to put you on any more medication than you already are on, but…well, it certainly can’t be helped. With the reports of ill and dead in Rukongai rising, and with the lower-rank shinigami starting to fall ill, I don’t want to risk you being at anything but your best.”
“There are still more ill?” Byakuya asked. There was a note of concern in his voice.
Unohana nodded. “The counts from Rukongai are…simply horrible. And as bad as the disease is when it strikes those without soul powers… I’ve asked Yamamoto-soutaichou to quarantine the Shinigami Academy. No one comes in; no one comes out. Too many of those students live in Rukongai. When this disease hits those who have reiatsu…it’s horrible. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t sleep in my family compound,” Byakuya murmured, his eyes dancing ever-so-slightly.
“Oh, you,” Unohana said, laughing despite herself. “I suppose one could look at it that way… Alright. Here’s the medication. Take it every night at the same time, about thirty minutes before you want to be asleep. It’ll calm you down slowly. It might take you a while to wake up from it, though, so be sure to let Abarai-fukutaichou know that he alone will be on call at night. He’s healthy, before you argue, and you’re getting weaker the less you sleep. Haven’t you noticed how Senbonzakura’s changed? She’s exhausted, Byakuya-kun. She needs sleep as badly as you do. So you will sleep, and you will let your vice-captain handle anything that comes up. Do you understand me?”
“As clear as ever, Unohana-san,” Byakuya answered politely, though he treated her to a rare, if small, smile.
“Good,” she said sharply, placing the small earthenware jar of pills in his hand. Then she smiled at him. “Please…enjoy your tea…”
----
“Ryuuken…” Urahara said slowly, turning to face the man now entering his shop. “What can I do for you this splendid evening?”
Ryuuken scowled at the blond. “You can start by telling me why in hell you gave Kurosaki my address!”
“I would assume your son gave Ichigo your address, Ryuuken,” Urahara said calmly, smiling at him brightly.
Ryuuken’s scowl darkened. “It’s not Ichigo I’m talking about, and you know it. You gave my address to Kurosaki Isshin, Kisuke!”
The blond closed his fan with a snap. After a moment’s worth of silence, he looked across at the other man. “Don’t you think it’s about time, Ryuuken?” he asked quietly. “It’s been what, twenty years now? Twenty one?”
“Twenty two and a half,” Ryuuken ground out, “as you well know.”
Urahara nodded. “I do know. It’s kind of hard not to miss a man like you in my bed.”
At that, Ryuuken snorted. “Like your bed’s been empty since we…since…”
“Since Isshin started dating Misaki-chan, and you felt like you had to one-up him,” Urahara supplied gently. “You’re not blameless, Ryuuken.”
“I didn’t pretend,” Ryuuken spat.
“I never said you did,” the blond replied, calm. He stepped around the counter, coming closer to the pissed Quincy. His eyes were serious as he focused on the man standing in his shop, a man he hadn’t spent too much time with in over twenty two years. “But you still chose to break this off.”
“My…my mistake,” Ryuuken said hoarsely. “My mistake.” Suddenly, he looked up at Urahara. His eyes were suspiciously bright, and the tension around his lips had changed. He was still tense, but for a different reason than before. “And it’s one…one that I’ve…”
“Regretted?” Urahara asked. He paused, inches away from Ryuuken.
The silver-haired man nodded. Reaching forward, he slid his hand into Urahara’s blond hair, knocking the hat from his head and yanking the blond man closer. “I’ve regretted it every single day, Kisuke,” he mumbled.
But the shopkeeper stilled him with a hand, preventing the other man from kissing him. “Think about this, Ryuuken,” he said quietly. “Think about Uryuu. Think about your family. You love them.”
“I love Uryuu,” Ryuuken agreed. “And my wife and I…we were compatible. But it…it’s always been you…always…” Blinking rapidly, he removed his hand from the blond’s hair, and nervously slid it down his chest. “I…I’m sorry, Kisuke. But I...I…”
“I understand, Ryuuken,” Urahara murmured. Gently, he drew the doctor against his chest, tucking his head against his shoulder. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Ryuuken asked. His voice was shaky as he spoke, and even his hand shook against Urahara’s chest. He closed his eyes and let the blond hold him, his pride and resolve crumbling.
“I do,” Urahara whispered into his hair. “I understand, Ryuuken, more than you know.” Closing his own eyes, he kissed the top of his head. “I understand.”
Next Chapter
Chapter Title: Starting Again (Chapter 1 of 9, plus an Epilogue)
Author: creepy_crawly
Characters/Pairings: ByakuyaxUryuu, UraharaxRyuuken.
Rating: For this chapter? R. For entire series? NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi
Disclaimer: No own. No money. No shame.
Summary: Two years after Surrender the Body, Ishida Uryuu is forced to go back on his vow once more, and face Byakuya once again.
“I heard from Ishida this week,” Orihime said, looking up from her dinner as she spoke. “He called me, again.”
Ichigo, too, looked up. “You heard from him? How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing well, as usual,” she answered, tucking one long strand of hair behind her ear. She fiddled with her chopsticks for a moment. “They’re talking about sending him to the United States again.”
“What’s in America?” Rukia asked. She hadn’t been in the human world in a while, being too busy with the problems of Soul Society to be spared. Still, things had settled down enough to allow her to return to her normal patrol. Upon finding out that she was back in Karakura, Orihime had insisted on inviting her to join their weekly get-together.
“Some medical program,” Ichigo told her, grimacing. “At least once a month, they ask Ishida to go. And at least once a month, he turns them down.”
“He says he wants to complete his medical degree in Tokyo,” Orihime continued. “And he’s very close to doing that, I think.”
“Which is early,” Ichigo said, swallowing the mouthful of food he had. “But Ishida’s dad pulled some strings or something.”
Orihime shot him a look, delicately finishing the piece of beef she had been nibbling on. “We’re not quite sure,” she explained, “because, for whatever reason, Ishida’s not speaking to Ichigo again.”
“Another promise to his father?” Rukia asked Ichigo.
The redhead shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, that didn’t stop him last time, but… It certainly sounds like it. There for a while, just before graduation, there were almost no Hollows here-Ishida took care of all of them in seconds. Now, whoever Soul Society’s got in Tokyo probably has a very cushy job.”
Disturbed, Rukia made a mental note to examine the reports from Tokyo. There were five Shinigami stationed in the city. If they really were having an easier time… She’d seen just how efficiently the young Quincy could handle Hollows before. If he had, as Orihime and Ichigo were suggesting, been training with his father, then he would be even better. There was no point in wasting Shinigami on an already protected area, anyway. If all that was needed was that soul burials be performed, then surely the patrols on Tokyo could be reduced, and their Shinigami redirected, which would, in turn, reduce the strain on the other Shinigami…
“Stop thinking, dumbass,” Ichigo snorted, elbowing her upper arm lightly. “Surely hanging out with us is more fun than thinking about work.”
Rukia laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she conceded. “So. Aside from the Americans wanting Ishida, what’s been going on in your lives?”
Orihime brightened almost immediately. “Well,” she said proudly, “I’m at the top of my class in school! I’m doing really well.”
“That’s really good!” Rukia said, smiling at her. “You’re studying to be a teacher, right?”
Orihime nodded. “I think I’m going to teach a primary grade. Maybe kindergarten. Next semester, I have to student teach, so I’m deciding which teacher I want to student teach with. I’m not quite sure what grade level I want to work with, though, so I need to hurry up and decide that.”
Rukia smiled at the redheaded girl. Orihime Inoue would make a great kindergarten teacher, she decided. The girl was bubbly and bright, irrepressible even after everything that had happened in the Hueco Mundo and during the Winter War. Immediately after the war, Orihime had been quiet and withdrawn, which, while discomfiting, was judged to be a side-effect of the war. Rukia had been sad to leave the human world with the human girl still quiet and lacking her usual effervescence.
Clearly, though, she had healed. Seeing her now was like seeing her before the war, before she was held prisoner in the Hueco Mundo. Perhaps Matsumoto’s presence had had something to do with that. The two women got on incredibly well, each seeing something of themselves in the other. Orihime looked up to Matsumoto, Rukia knew, and Matsumoto seemed to see the human girl as something of a long lost sister. It was a comfort to both of them.
“I think you’d make a great kindergarten teacher,” Rukia said, her smile growing. “Think about it…you’d get to play with them, not be bossy.”
“I know! And they’re so cute…” Orihime sighed, her eyes twinkling. “Anyway, that’s what’s going on for me.”
Ichigo shook his head, still smiling at Orihime’s obvious joy. “I’m not doing much,” he admitted. “Writing a lot, but, then again, I am in college for a creative writing degree, so I suppose that that’s only to be expected, right?”
“How’s your manuscript going?” Rukia asked, slurping her drink as she watched him.
“Slowly,” Ichigo replied sourly. “Very slowly. The publisher is being patient, though, so I suppose I should follow their lead and give myself the benefit of the doubt.”
“Some days,” Orihime volunteered, “he goes out Hollow hunting just to avoid working on his book!”
Rukia laughed, watching the way the redheaded boy’s face lit up, first with shame and then with anger. Orihime ducked the playful swat he aimed in her direction, still laughing.
----
“My feet are killing me,” Tatsuki whined, leaning against Chad’s strong body as she adjusted the strap on her high heels. “Remind me again why we do these damn things?”
“Because it brings in an absolute ton of money,” Chad replied calmly, placing a large, calming hand on her shoulder. “The parents like to know who their children are learning from. And the gym pays us overtime to be here.”
“I’d rather skip the heels and the overtime,” Tatsuki grumped. “At least you just have to wear a suit. I have to get all dressed up. Dress, heels, make-up-the whole nine yards!”
“Have you ever tried to find a suit in my size?” Chad asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “And I hate ties. And we’re missing dinner with Orihime and Ichigo and Rukia.”
“Told you these banquets sucked,” Tatsuki muttered, under her breath as she pushed open the door to the banquet hall.
It was crowded with people, most of who were seated at their tables already. Some still stood around, talking to one another, gossiping about this and that. Some of the children beamed and waved at Chad and Tatsuki as they entered the room; some of their older students smiled and gave tiny waves of acknowledgement.
In order to pay for college, both Tatsuki and Chad had begun to work as instructors at the dojo she had taken lessons in her whole life. Tatsuki taught the more traditional martial arts; Chad had started a class on street fighting. The owners of the dojo had offered him an incredibly large paycheck after a local news station had done a segment on how his program was both keeping kids off the streets and keeping them safer, but he had turned them down. They were both growing quite old, after all, and it was just a job for him to pay for higher education. Besides, he liked the children.
Tatsuki’s obvious love of her sport and her protectiveness of all of the children she taught had made her incredibly popular with her students and their parents. She carried one of the heaviest class loads, and every penny of it went to paying for her to go to school. She was determined to get a degree in sports education so that she could come back and keep teaching at the dojo. At the same time, the head coach of the Japanese Olympic team had begun to come to her matches and court her, trying to get her to agree to go the next Olympic games.
“Come on,” Chad whispered in her ear, leading her to the instructors’ table with a firm hand on her elbow. “Faster we get this started, the faster this gets done.”
Tatsuki shot him a dirty look but allowed the gentle giant to steer her over towards all of their colleagues.
----
“Still not sleeping well?” Unohana asked gently, looking at the shinigami seated across from her over the rim of her teacup. “Have you been doing everything we talked about last time, Byakuya-kun?”
“I have, Unohana-san,” he answered. The exhaustion was plain in his voice; it wore on him like a heavy cold, blunting the usually elegant tone. Dark circles ringed his eyes, though he only allowed the Fourth Division taichou to see them. In front of everyone else, he made a point of hiding them. No sense in letting others see his shame. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine and other stimulants, I’ve been taking long walks, and I’ve even begun to release bankai before going to bed every night. Nothing works.”
“And so you get out of bed, come into your office, and work on your paperwork,” Unohana finished shrewdly, still watching the calm, quiet noble. “Very well. I didn’t want to put you on any more medication than you already are on, but…well, it certainly can’t be helped. With the reports of ill and dead in Rukongai rising, and with the lower-rank shinigami starting to fall ill, I don’t want to risk you being at anything but your best.”
“There are still more ill?” Byakuya asked. There was a note of concern in his voice.
Unohana nodded. “The counts from Rukongai are…simply horrible. And as bad as the disease is when it strikes those without soul powers… I’ve asked Yamamoto-soutaichou to quarantine the Shinigami Academy. No one comes in; no one comes out. Too many of those students live in Rukongai. When this disease hits those who have reiatsu…it’s horrible. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t sleep in my family compound,” Byakuya murmured, his eyes dancing ever-so-slightly.
“Oh, you,” Unohana said, laughing despite herself. “I suppose one could look at it that way… Alright. Here’s the medication. Take it every night at the same time, about thirty minutes before you want to be asleep. It’ll calm you down slowly. It might take you a while to wake up from it, though, so be sure to let Abarai-fukutaichou know that he alone will be on call at night. He’s healthy, before you argue, and you’re getting weaker the less you sleep. Haven’t you noticed how Senbonzakura’s changed? She’s exhausted, Byakuya-kun. She needs sleep as badly as you do. So you will sleep, and you will let your vice-captain handle anything that comes up. Do you understand me?”
“As clear as ever, Unohana-san,” Byakuya answered politely, though he treated her to a rare, if small, smile.
“Good,” she said sharply, placing the small earthenware jar of pills in his hand. Then she smiled at him. “Please…enjoy your tea…”
----
“Ryuuken…” Urahara said slowly, turning to face the man now entering his shop. “What can I do for you this splendid evening?”
Ryuuken scowled at the blond. “You can start by telling me why in hell you gave Kurosaki my address!”
“I would assume your son gave Ichigo your address, Ryuuken,” Urahara said calmly, smiling at him brightly.
Ryuuken’s scowl darkened. “It’s not Ichigo I’m talking about, and you know it. You gave my address to Kurosaki Isshin, Kisuke!”
The blond closed his fan with a snap. After a moment’s worth of silence, he looked across at the other man. “Don’t you think it’s about time, Ryuuken?” he asked quietly. “It’s been what, twenty years now? Twenty one?”
“Twenty two and a half,” Ryuuken ground out, “as you well know.”
Urahara nodded. “I do know. It’s kind of hard not to miss a man like you in my bed.”
At that, Ryuuken snorted. “Like your bed’s been empty since we…since…”
“Since Isshin started dating Misaki-chan, and you felt like you had to one-up him,” Urahara supplied gently. “You’re not blameless, Ryuuken.”
“I didn’t pretend,” Ryuuken spat.
“I never said you did,” the blond replied, calm. He stepped around the counter, coming closer to the pissed Quincy. His eyes were serious as he focused on the man standing in his shop, a man he hadn’t spent too much time with in over twenty two years. “But you still chose to break this off.”
“My…my mistake,” Ryuuken said hoarsely. “My mistake.” Suddenly, he looked up at Urahara. His eyes were suspiciously bright, and the tension around his lips had changed. He was still tense, but for a different reason than before. “And it’s one…one that I’ve…”
“Regretted?” Urahara asked. He paused, inches away from Ryuuken.
The silver-haired man nodded. Reaching forward, he slid his hand into Urahara’s blond hair, knocking the hat from his head and yanking the blond man closer. “I’ve regretted it every single day, Kisuke,” he mumbled.
But the shopkeeper stilled him with a hand, preventing the other man from kissing him. “Think about this, Ryuuken,” he said quietly. “Think about Uryuu. Think about your family. You love them.”
“I love Uryuu,” Ryuuken agreed. “And my wife and I…we were compatible. But it…it’s always been you…always…” Blinking rapidly, he removed his hand from the blond’s hair, and nervously slid it down his chest. “I…I’m sorry, Kisuke. But I...I…”
“I understand, Ryuuken,” Urahara murmured. Gently, he drew the doctor against his chest, tucking his head against his shoulder. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Ryuuken asked. His voice was shaky as he spoke, and even his hand shook against Urahara’s chest. He closed his eyes and let the blond hold him, his pride and resolve crumbling.
“I do,” Urahara whispered into his hair. “I understand, Ryuuken, more than you know.” Closing his own eyes, he kissed the top of his head. “I understand.”
Next Chapter