Tiger Got to Hunt, Bird Got to Fly (ch. 4)
IV. THE CAGE
Izuru hated events like this. His formal kimonos were always uncomfortably warm, which made him sweat and fidget with his sleeves or his sash, and that always earned him a hushed admonishment from his aunt.
"Izuru," she hissed, yanking his arm back into the proper position by his side. "Stop fidgeting!"
Aunt Michiko went on to lecture him about how, as heir to their clan, Izuru ought to take this opportunity to mingle with the other children of the nobility because it was never too early to start making family alliances - he'd heard it all before. Izuru listened with half an ear, nodded at the appropriate times, and let his attention drift off toward finding adventure.
There weren't all that many noble children he could even stand to be around, and the ones that he knew of still seemed... boring, to say the least. Their ambitions lay in politics and courtly games; their dreams were mostly of marrying up, settling down, and having more noble children. Or perhaps, for the more ambitious, of one day joining the ranks of Central 46.
Izuru was known to them as a dreamer, and sometimes they still teased him for what he had said years ago about one day being a captain in the Gotei 13. From that day on, he had been careful not to tell others about his unconventional interests and hobbies. He kept it secret that his love of nature was not merely for its inspirational effect on poetry, but also because he loved to examine everything there was in the outside world. He didn't dare tell anyone what he was really thinking of when he had one of his bouts of introspection. The crush of bark underneath his palms, the scent of rich loam after the rains, and even the rare grotesque centipedes as they scuttled away in the dark. He was fascinated by the movements of their jointed legs. He was curious about how everything came to be, and how it all fit together.
This sort of curiosity was something they - his family and peers - wouldn't understand. As such, Izuru didn't have much to talk about with them beyond the standard platitudes, and when he had nothing to say, he was very quiet. And when he was very quiet, they thought he was the boring one, which... maybe he was. But did it matter? They already thought he was weird anyway.
It wasn't that he was unpopular - far from it! There were, of course, other young nobles who wished to become shinigami. Among those, Izuru was known to be a promising candidate, and someone to associate with. Girls of the lesser nobility were told to allow him to court them if they wished to have a husband with military connections in the future. Despite being an orphan, he had good pedigree. He was smart, he was spiritually strong, he had a small plot of family land, and there was nothing too objectionable about him in the way of looks or personality. There was nothing to complain about as far as his marriage prospects went, never mind the fact that Izuru thought it was at least a hundred years too early for him to be thinking about marriage.
Perhaps it was only to Izuru that these interactions felt empty and somewhat insincere.
"-Kuchiki Byakuya. Are you listening?"
"Yes ma'am."
"You do so well among your peers; it's the least you could do to use that charm to get into Kuchiki's good graces. He's not all that much older than you, and you are aiming for a position in the Gotei 13 as well, so there will be much for you two to talk about. You must try to arrange a meeting, at least. Everyone will be expecting you to show an interest in his career, and if all goes well, it will be a boost for yours as well."
He nodded, waited for her to turn away, and then promptly headed in the opposite direction. He had already sent his paltry birthday gift along with a note of congratulations. There was really no need to fight through the mob just for the right to kiss Kuchiki's feet. After all, the chances of someone from such a minor house such as his getting the blessings of the Kuchiki family? It was not even worth mentioning. Izuru himself wasn't even worth mentioning at this point, seeing as he had yet to work up the courage to apply for the academy.
Sighing, Izuru made his way to what he hoped would be a secluded corner of the garden. It was near the wall, at the edgemost part of the Kuchiki grounds, where bamboo and reeds were perfectly trimmed to a facade of artful wildness around a tranquil pond. Here, perhaps he could climb a tree or catch a rare spirit-insect without being scolded for impropriety. He picked up his pace, aiming for the overgrown stone bench that he would claim as his own for the next few hours.
But... As Izuru approached, he noticed that there was already someone there, lying on the bench, his arm dangling over the side to brush teasingly against the grass. He was tall and slim, and his hair a soft shade of silver. Though his features were sharp, there was something about the child-like mischief in those half-lidded eyes and a subtle roundness of cheek that belied his true age, though age was hard to tell when it was relative to one's maturity of spiritual power. He could have been anywhere from a few years to a few decades older than Izuru himself.
It was still as good a spot as any, Izuru decided. "Hello," he greeted the stranger.
"Hello yourself," the stranger said. He spoke in a soft, lilting accent that Izuru found to be pleasantly intriguing, for he had never heard such a thing.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, sir. Would you mind if I sat here?"
"Nah, please, go right ahead." Bony hands gave a flippant wave to the other side of the bench.
"Thank you."
"Ya bored, too?"
Izuru smiled sheepishly. "A little bit, yes."
"Only a little? I've only been here an hour and I've had enough of this to last a lifetime."
"Yes, these events are quite tedious to attend, aren't they? But one gets used to them over time."
"If you've had to attend so many that ya got used to 'em, then I sure pity ya."
"Ah, well, you find ways to entertain yourself..."
"True, true. S'great for people-watchin'. That Lord Fancy-Hat and that Lord Pointy-Beard, for example," he said, pointing to a pair underneath the edgemost cherry tree. "They look kinda friendly, but they're gonna stab each other in the back real soon."
Izuru frowned, though he didn't know if it was out of horror of such an accusation or mere confusion. He felt like he ought to be affronted, as Aunt Michiko would have been. And yet... He couldn't help but want to know more. "How can you say that?"
"Because nobles are weird like that," the young man said with a shrug. "They gotta make pointless small talk ev'ry time they meet. Gotta give gifts to their enemies and cut down their friends if they wanna make it to the top. Just lookit those two. Their smiles're all fakes."
"While that is perhaps true, isn't it a strange thing to say when you must also be... I mean, um, your smiling must also... As a noble aren't you also..."
"Pfft!"
Izuru's stuttering was interrupted by a hastily covered laugh. The shinigami bit his lip to keep from laughing too loudly, though he couldn't keep in the breathy chuckles and shaking shoulders. He felt slightly miffed that he was being laughed at, and he flushed with embarrassment.
...Apparently, he was being laughed at so hard that the other man now had to hold a hand over his own mouth while tears were starting to form at the corners of his eyes. Izuru felt his blood run cold with the sting of rejection, and he got up to leave. "Excuse me, then. I'm afraid I must be going."
Before he could take his first step, the shinigami quickly shifted into a sitting position, and his arm shot out to take hold of Izuru's. "Please don't go. I like ya."
In contrast to how he had been speaking before, this voice was sincere. Izuru didn't think he could refuse, never mind maintain the proper amount of calm and distance he had been taught to show when dealing with those of lower status. He especially didn't think he could deal with that slender hand gently gripping his wrist and tugging him back down. That, coupled with such a strangely casual declaration echoing in his mind non-stop. I like ya. I like ya.
"You're a funny one. Didja really think I was a noble?"
Izuru took in a shaky breath as he sat again. "Well, I... I don't think I've ever met anyone who wasn't... And there's no reason for you to be here if you're not..." he managed to squeak out.
"Lotsa important people here today. Kuchiki's bein' groomed to be a captain someday, so the higher ups in the Gotei 13 are payin' special attention to 'im. I tagged along with my captain, that's why I'm here." He shifted so that the badge around his upper left arm was now clearly visible.
"Oh." Izuru's mouth hung slack around that one syllable. A nervous sort of awe began filling up his belly at the thought of meeting a lieutenant who was a commoner, and still so young. How skilled someone like that must be! He nearly trembled from the excitement.
"Aren't ya supposed to look down your nose at me right about now?"
"Um..." The words had left him. His throat felt dry. "I... I am? M-maybe?"
"But you're not."
"Um... no?"
"You're really bad at bein' a noble, aren'tcha?"
"I guess so," Izuru said with a frown. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Nah, jus' makes ya different, that's all."
And different was okay, wasn't it? They could both be strange together. Izuru smiled gratefully at the older boy, whose hand was still wound around Izuru's sleeve. "Thank you."
There was a long moment of companionable silence between them. Izuru reclaimed his sleeve, and sat with his knees drawn up to his chest. The shinigami gracefully laid back down and resumed his languid basking.
Being in the company of a commoner was a lot more refreshing than Izuru had anticipated. It was nice, this feeling. Was this, perhaps, what it was like to truly be comfortable around another person? To have no need for pretenses? His eyes drifted toward the wall without his even noticing it until the gleaming white stone was all that lay in his field of vision. Whether it was mere minutes or hours that he had been sitting here, Izuru couldn't tell.
"Hey. You've been staring at that wall for a while," the shinigami said. He stretched and sat back up once again. "Wanna see what's on the other side?"
"I can't."
"Dun worry, we'll be back before they even notice."
Izuru shook his head. "I can't."
The silver-haired boy frowned as he cocked his head to the side. "Ya look sad. Sure I can't interest ya in a tour of the outside world?"
It was so tempting, Izuru thought, to just take the offered hand and run. But he came back to himself at the last minute and said, "I'm sorry, but I can't right now."
Their tenuous connection snapped.
"Aww, well that's too bad." A grotesquely large grin spread out along his face until it almost seemed that he'd had his cheeks sliced apart with a knife. Insincerity dripped down from his lips in place of blood. "Guess I'll just be takin' my leave..."
Once more, Izuru felt his blood run cold. Again, he could not distinguish why. Was it fear of that murderous smile? Or despair at the potential loss of a true friend? It didn't matter. He pushed past it and called out to the other.
"W-wait! We haven't even exchanged names yet! I'm-"
"Nah, don't bother. We'll prob'ly never see each other again. Was nice hangin' out with ya though. Bye~!"
"Wait!" he cried.
But it was too late. Faster than the blink of an eye, flash step, the mysterious shinigami was gone.
Izuru hurried out to the main grounds, dodging and weaving around others, periodically standing on tiptoe in the hopes of catching sight of a head of silver hair. It occurred to him that there were only thirteen divisions, and only thirteen lieutenants. Of course a lieutenant's information would be easy to look up! Yet it somehow seemed to be of great importance that Izuru caught hold of him now. If not now, it could be never, like the way his parents had never come back from that last mission...
"There you are! Honestly, Izuru, what are we going to do with you?" Aunt Michiko bustled her way over to him, and he knew his chance at freedom was gone.
"Forgive me. I will... I will be on my best behavior for the rest of the ceremony."
---
"Hello, Mother. Father."
Izuru knelt down before the gravestone and bowed. The house was empty, but he could still hear the muffled sounds of his cousins play-fighting from behind the small bamboo thicket that separated the main house of the Kira clan from those of the outer branches. And he knew, though he didn't know how he knew, that there was a distance between Izuru and his cousins that had nothing to do with the bamboo fence. Rather, it was about the wall.
It was about death. That was the irony of it. Because Izuru's parents had been shinigami, and they had died on the job. Because their deaths hit too close to home, and none of his relatives wanted to preserve the dignity of their noble clan by replacing the fallen and joining the ranks themselves. Because they feared for their lives even when nothing and no one in Soul Society was alive the way the Living World was alive.
They had yet to come alive.
"Aunt Michiko took us to the Kuchiki manor this morning," he said, fingers idly playing with the grass. "It's Kuchiki Byakuya's birthday today. His coming of age ceremony, actually. All the noble families were there to congratulate him. Um. And I met someone. Someone who came from... from where you are right now."
Izuru let out a shuddery sigh, his shoulders slumping as his eyes dropped down to where his fingers were picking at the grass. There were faint green stains blooming under his nails. "Father, Mother, I want to go where you are, but I don't want to die," he said, lifting his other hand to wipe tears on the sleeve of his best kimono. "There's... There's more to this world than what I've seen. When I'm a shinigami, I'll be ready to go across the wall, too, and maybe- maybe by that time you'll be there."
Izuru had asked a lot of questions after his parents' deaths; none of which had been answered. But that was okay, because he was just that little bit too smart as to make the adults nervous, and so was able to piece things together on his own. And so he knew things that he wasn't supposed to know, like the truth about the wall.
They, the nobility, were not using the wall to keep Rukongai riff-raff out, as was commonly said. It was the wall that caged them in, because the noble houses were comprised entirely of new souls. Seireitei was the birthplace of souls. When those souls passed on, they reincarnated in the Living World, and when they died there, they made their way to the Rukongai. And then it was back and forth between the Living World and the Rukongai, again and again, over and over again. Endlessly, unless one became a Hollow somewhere along the way, or the soul was otherwise destroyed. But until that first death - or birth, as it were - the new souls were locked up for safekeeping.
Izuru's father and mother were out there somewhere, but the only way he could ever hope to find them again was if he could get past his fears and over that wall.
With one last sniffle, he made his way back into the cold, empty house.
The cage door closed behind him.