Tiger Got to Hunt, Bird Got to Fly (ch. 5)
A/N: Italics adapted from Royall Tyler's version of "What the Snake Had in Mind", a Japanese folktale from around the Heian period.
V. OTHERSIDE
A woman on her way up to hear the monthly preaching at Urin'in, a temple in northern Kyoto, had come to a stone bridge - just a small slab over a tiny brook - when another, younger woman walking along the brook stepped on the slab as she crossed and overturned it. Where it had been the first woman was surprised to see, all coiled up, a little spotted snake.
The snake slowly unwound itself and set off after the young woman who had overturned its stone. This was intriguing. Perhaps the snake was angry at having been disturbed and wanted to get even. The older woman was curious enough to set out after it.
The young woman the snake was following did look round sometimes, but seemed to suspect nothing. No one passing by did either.
Aizen had insisted that they begin testing their ability to use Garganta, and Gin trailed along behind him, as always. Skirting along the sands of Hueco Mundo like a wraith, his feet light against the sands, he watched as his captain baited the Hollows and sent them through.
"Gin, you should practice as well."
"Oh, I dunno 'bout that... S'not that I can't do kido - I'm pretty good, if I do say so myself - but ya knew that already. Just it always makes my hands all cold and tingly," he whined. Gin simpered at Aizen in a way that he knew made him look more like the devil than a petulant child.
"I won't stand for you holding me back. Show me your Garganta."
"Do I hafta?"
"Unless you wish for me to inject that ability into you as I have done with our dear friend Kaname?"
Having lost this round, he replied contritely, "Yes, Captain Aizen."
Gin reached forth, and a black tear formed at his fingertips. It split the sky in a sharp, spreading crescent. It tore across worlds with a screech, a wail of snapping bones, human organs bursting like bloody sausages. To Gin, the creation of these portals never failed to put him into a certain curious frame of mind. Perhaps it was the sound, a wet sound like the ripping of damp linens; the same sound as a man's guts sliced and served on a bed of dirt, a meal of gored flesh for the master of the slaughterhouse... Or perhaps it was the ugly stitching of the Garganta as it mockingly unzipped reality to let in the stuff of nightmares. Garganta were such unhappy things, angry things, and yet they always smiled.
He and his captain crossed through the void and came upon an interesting scene. Carefully tamping down on their power so as not to be sensed, they watched the chaos unfold before their eyes.
There they were, the cute little students. And oh, look! A giant Hollow was descending upon them. Run, students, run! Gin's laughter was drowned out by the fear. The air stank of it: fear. And oooh, ouch... He grimaced as the poor sixth year girl was viciously speared through. It was unfortunate, for he had pegged her for a future ranked officer, and now they were in danger of losing Hisagi, too, which would be such a shame. After all, Hisagi made it no secret that he was aiming for a certain division. And wouldn't it be so much more interesting if Hisagi were to serve, a loyal dog, under the captain who was most responsible for the destruction of the man he had worshipped.
"Now, Captain Aizen?"
"Not yet." Aizen was calm as always as he watched. "We must wait for Soul Society's missive."
Gin, paying only half a mind to the scene below, tugged his sleeves over his hands as best he could and wished, not for the first time, that he had a little more meat on his bones so as not to be so goddamned cold all the time. Ah, what he wouldn't give to warm his fingers up under Rangiku's fun bags... Watching her squirm and bat him away because "Eek! It's cold! Stop it before you make my girls shrivel up!"
At the very least, things would have been easier if he hadn't gotten so tall, because then the standard Shinigami uniform would actually come in a size that fit him properly. Not being able to reach the top shelf would be worth it if it meant he didn't have to go a size up on all his uniforms. Even so, they still ended up with sleeves that were much too short for his liking while the rest of it hung on him, an ill-fitted sack.
It always came back to the sleeves, see? Uniform modifications would be more acceptable if he were a captain of his own squad. Ah, it'd be easier if he were a member of some other division with less of an emphasis on proper presentation, too. But oh, not the ninth! Never that - he would be an ice cube within a day! Feeling the fabric sliding up again, Gin tugged it back down with a pout.
"Soon, Gin. There's no need to pout. Such impatience is unbecoming for a man of your stature."
"Ah, ya know me best, captain." He turned his attention back to the students.
Look at them scurry! All those little first years, screaming for their lives and nearly wetting their pants! He hadn't wanted to take in all the details of their pathetic helplessness, but it was hard to ignore something so obvious. The Hollows were eating their fill tonight, and Gin felt a rare bout of uncharacteristic anger settling low in his belly. A gnawing hunger; a thirst for blood.
Now, captain? Now?
Yes.
Gin leaped into the fray. "Ikorose, Shinsou!
His blade extended. A streak of silver, a wrathful shooting star. It flew straight and true, skewering the first Hollow right between the eyes, then impaling the second, and then the third. One, two, three, the hungry spirits dissipated into the night until nothing lingered but the echoes of their last cries.
It was over in an instant. As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Shinsou contracted to its dormant state, and the viper tucked his fangs back within the folds of his clothes as if he'd never lashed out at all.
The students, they were looking at him. Or through him at Captain Aizen, most likely. Perhaps they were thinking of how strong a captain must be if a lieutenant was at such a level.
"Those three, Captain Aizen?"
"Yes."
Gin took one last glance behind him at the three students who'd had the audacity to stand their ground. Good things always came in threes. Well, bad things did as well. He wondered which it would be for those unfortunates whom Aizen had marked out. Poor little butterflies, little mice, little souls... Aizen was sure to fatten them up before the sacrificial feast. Maybe Gin could convince his captain to let him have one, too.
While Aizen walked straight back through the gate, Gin gave them a little wave. They'd be seeing a lot of each other in the future.
---
In time they reached Urin'in. The young woman climbed the steps and sat down on the wooden floor while the snake too got up the steps and wriggled to her side. Still no one saw it or raised the alarm.
When the preaching was over the young woman left, and the snake with her. The older woman stayed behind them on the way back. In the southern district of the city the woman entered a house that seemed to be hers, and the snake followed.
Hinamori stepped out of the infirmary.
"How's Hisagi-sempai holding up?" Abarai asked.
"Pretty well. He'll be fully recovered in time for graduation." Hinamori smiled reassuringly as she took her customary place between her two best friends, a hand on each of their arms.
Kira felt his tensed shoulders start to relax. It had already been a week since that traumatic experience, and even though the three of them now had the respect of the entire student body, he strangely felt no pride at his supposed accomplishments.
What had he done? He had frozen in place and nearly wet himself until Hinamori's charge had woken him up, and even then, he hadn't been strong enough or fast enough to save Hisagi-sempai. If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Ichimaru...
Kira sighed. "I think... I would like to join the Fifth Division."
His friends responded enthusiastically.
---
The snake was unlikely to do anything during the day, but the older woman was determined to be on hand for whatever might happen that night. She went up to the house, explained that she had just arrived from the country and had nowhere to stay, and begged for a night's lodging. An old lady invited her in, whereby she found the young woman sitting on the raised floor with the snake coiled at the foot of a pillar, gazing at her.
When the sun set and darkness fell, the visitor could no longer see the snake, so she proposed spinning hemp in exchange for the old lady's hospitality. For this she would need light. The old lady gladly accepted her offer and lit a lamp. As the visitor spun, she looked around her. The young woman seemed to have lain down to sleep. No doubt the snake would go to her now - but it did not. The visitor felt she ought to mention the snake, but decided she would only make trouble for herself if she did and so kept silent.
Captain Aizen held calligraphy classes at the academy once a week, at which Hinamori attended religiously and was a prized student due to her natural artistic skill. Kira went with her sometimes because his penmanship could do with some improvement, especially if he was to be taken seriously as a poet. After all, haiku wasn't just a string of words of a particular pattern. It was also a visual art where composition was just as important as content.
And Renji... showed no interest in "that scholarly stuff". (Actually, he had been banned by Hinamori after the time he accidentally dropped Kira's inkstone on her head. Making Momo look a fool in front of Captain Aizen, intentional or not, was not a sin that would be easily forgiven.) Despite Renji's absence, Kira found that he quite enjoyed the occasional calligraphy lesson. Captain Aizen was good at making things easy to understand, and then, while the mob of Shinigami girls crowded around their teacher after class, Kira found that sometimes Lieutenant Ichimaru would be waiting outside. While Kira waited for his friend to finish up her questions, and Ichimaru waited for his captain to finish answering them, they kept each other company.
Today he had come with his inks and brushes, and yet he stood outside the building, wringing his hands at what he was about to do: skip class. Lately, Kira had been coming to these lessons more and more frequently... and leaving class earlier and earlier. It was an optional extracurricular endeavor, but Kira's inner sense of propriety recoiled nonetheless. He liked calligraphy class, he really did. It was just that he liked spending time with Lieutenant Ichimaru much more. He blushed at his own train of thought.
Kira never understood why others were so afraid of Lieutenant Ichimaru. Well, he understood it intellectually, of course, because Ichimaru's features were uniquely sharp in a disconcerting way, and it was true that the ever-present smile lent his face an air of cruelty. He was not handsome. He was not gentle. But he had intelligence, strength, and an odd sort of charisma that was uniquely his own.
Kira couldn't see why so many people went out of their way to avoid having conversations with Ichimaru, who always had something clever to say if only one would approach him. He didn't get why his classmates called him "brave" or "crazy" when he admitted to enjoying his time with Ichimaru when they happened to meet after Aizen's calligraphy class.
At first, they merely exchanged polite greetings and companionable silence, but then Kira started noticing things. Ichimaru lived in the present and in his own world all at once. It wasn't uncommon for Ichimaru to devise his own games with whatever he had on hand that day: twigs, berries, tiny pebbles... He examined the most mundane things with utmost attention to detail, and then he made them "fun".
Kira, running the soft tip of his calligraphy brush over his palm, turned away from the main entrance. He took several unsteady steps through the courtyard to the back of the building where Ichimaru would most likely be found, either sprawled out basking in the warm afternoon sun, resting beneath a shady tree, or poking around the dirt in a very undignified, un-lieutenant-like way. At times like these, he looked less like a commanding officer and more like a fellow student plotting pranks against their teachers. And Kira could pretend, for a moment, that they were friends.
It was option #3 today, Kira noted as he tentatively strode in upon the scene. Ichimaru was on his hands and knees, hidden from view except for his behind, which jutted out from under the cover of the ferns. As Kira softly approached, he saw that the twigs and berries had become an elaborate labyrinth, and Ichimaru appeared to be running a race between a pill bug and a beetle. Kira couldn't suppress a small chuckle at the sight, which caused the other man to look up. And if such a thing were possible, his customary smile was even more mischievous than usual.
"Ya laughin' at me?"
"Uh, n-no, sir-"
"Because I'll have ya know that bugs're respectable creatures. I'm bettin' on the beetle."
Kira cocked his head to the side, trying and failing to analyze their conversation in a logical way. He settled for solemn acceptance. "I suppose I shall try my luck with the pill bug," he said. Ichimaru scooted over, and Kira joined him in his insanity, kneeling in the dirt, staring intently as two crawly things leisurely stumbled along.
"What're ya willin' to give if I win?"
"I don't know. Anything, I suppose."
"Oh really."
Ichimaru's tone was far from comforting, and Kira was quick to amend his earlier statement. "Anything within reason, that is. P-provided that you agree to the same terms, if they are acceptable to you, sir."
"It's a deal," Ichimaru said. He took up a leaf and tickled the pill bug, which immediately curled up in a defensive ball while the beetle trudged on ahead.
"Ah! That's not fair!"
"We agreed on the stakes, Kira-kun, but we never set the rules." Ichimaru smiled at him. Disingenuously, of course.
Kira's lips pulled taut in a stubborn line as he worked out the consequences of his planned actions. Ichimaru was not playing fair, and this called for serious payback. Yet on the other hand, a noble must always carry himself with graceful comport and must never be rude to a superior. Bear with it. Be patient. Obey, his aunt's voice echoed in his mind. Do not show contempt to your superiors even if they abuse you.
"Aww, not gonna put up a fight? Thanks for the easy win, Kira-kun... I'll be sure to select a suitable prize." Ichimaru mockingly put a hand on his chin. "Hmm, what do I want? Hmm..." He picked up the leaf again and lazily prodded the beetle to make it go faster and further cement his win. All the while, Kira's poor pill bug lay curled up in fear, because each time it began to uncurl, Ichimaru cruelly tickled it back into a ball.
Challenge accepted.
Kira drew in a deep breath and blew the pill bug across the finish line.
"That wasn't fair," Ichimaru said with a frown.
"It doesn't matter how I did it - I still won."
"Aaah, a man after my own heart."
Kira felt an irrational swelling of pride bubbling up in his chest at that statement. Ichimaru Gin was impressed with him, even if it was for something as stupid as cheating at a childish diversion which they were both far too old for. His lungs constricted, and it was hard to breathe.
"Well," asked Gin, "yer ready to pick a prize?"
It didn't matter what the rumors said about him being from the outskirts of the Rukongai. It didn't matter that the rumors were true - and Kira knew them to be true, for he had never forgotten his meeting with the mysterious boy in the garden some years ago.
So, despite his well-meaning classmates telling him to stay away, Kira made no changes in the way he treated the other. He trusted his intuition; his intuition told him that Ichimaru was not a bad man. No one who took as much pleasure from the natural world as Ichimaru did could be all that bad, Kira thought. He was convinced that Ichimaru had within him a poet's soul. The ability to find beauty in sorrow, or humor from pain. In this they were kindred spirits.
And besides, who else could he turn to, when he wanted to race pill bugs among the ferns? And to forget the weight of the expectations placed on his shoulders? How wonderful it would be to stay by this man's side for just a little bit longer...
"Take me across the wall," he said.
Gin extended his hand, and this time Izuru took hold. It was warm where their skin met.
---
Next morning the visitor woke up with a start, anxious to know what might have happened during the night. After getting up quite normally, the young woman told the old lady she had had an odd dream, and the old lady insisted on hearing it.
"Last night," said the young woman, "I dreamed somebody stood by my pillow. She was human from the waist up, but from the waist down she was a snake."
They stood atop a teahouse overlooking the marketplace of the Rukongai's fifth district. Kira's eyes were wide with wonder, his cheeks flushed and lips curled upward in barely concealed excitement. It was such a simple thing, to sneak outside the walls, and yet it brought such pleasure. Gin found it all to be delightfully amusing.
"You were wrong, you know, when you said we would never meet again."
It was barely a whisper, not meant for anyone's ears, but Gin heard it and responded. "Never thought ya'd make it this far." He snorted in amusement. "Tha' was then, this is now. I've learned my lesson 'bout underestimatin' you."
Kira appeared pensive, and perhaps a bit surprised. "You remember?"
Gin shrugged it off with a nonchalant smile. "I'm sure ya know who I am by now, but if it still matters, my name is Ichimaru Gin, and I thank ya for keepin' me from dyin' of boredom."
"Kira Izuru," he said with a polite bow. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Ichimaru."
Gin leaned in closer, letting his breath ghost along the shell of an ear. "May I call you Izuru? You can call me Gin..."
Kira's subsequent shiver was delicious, but before the younger man could gather his wits, Gin had pulled away. He hopped down to street-level without a sound, shocking the owner of the food cart he had landed in front of. The old lady yelped when she was suddenly greeted with a grinning face, but Gin merely said, "Hiya. Two, please." She warily accepted his coin, but no sooner than she felt the metal against her hand, and he was gone.
Up again, to the roof. Gin handed one of the meatbuns to Kira, and motioned for the boy to sit down with him. Kira watched the people go by. And Gin watched Kira taking delicate bites of his meal, eyes shining, the entirety of him aglow with potential.
It was his innocence that first caught Gin's attention. There was a soul in that boy that wasn't pure in the way saints were said to be pure, but rather pure in a way that was quiet and expressive all at once; soothing, but with a hint of steel and mischief underneath. It was a poetic sort of gentleness that carried great secrets within, waiting to be explored and set free. Kira was... Izuru was absolutely fascinating in his strangeness. He was fun to watch, and to tease, but there was also something else about him.
Izuru's closest friends were, without exception, all from the Rukongai. It most likely wasn't a conscious choice on his part, and Gin doubted that he'd even noticed, but the fact remained that this said a lot about Izuru's character. And this was dangerous because it made Gin feel things. Here was a person who truly respected him as he was, not in spite of who he was or where he had come from. A person's origins didn't register as important in Izuru's mind, nor did he ever ask for the gritty details of street life. Even if he had been told, he would probably frown and say, "It must have been a hard life, but I'm glad you're here now."
More so than that, here was a person for whom Gin's strange plays did not provoke disgust or disdain. And this was dangerous because it made Gin feel complacent when complacency was unacceptable for his mission. He was content here. Spending time with Izuru softened him; diverted him from his ultimate goal. It made Gin hope for things that he knew he was not meant for in this life, not when he was so tainted with hatred and thoughts of revenge. He knew he should stay away, except that he had never been able to stop poking at something when he got curious. And Izuru made him very, very curious.
This could not go on. No, no, this could not go on. The market was closing up for the evening. Gin's smile turned sinister just as a chill wind blew past, just as he thought, 'Oh my, what a conundrum. Something must be done.'
"She was beautiful, though, and this is what she said to me. 'Once I hated someone so much that I turned into a snake and spent many long and lonely years under the stone slab of a bridge. Yesterday you overturned the stone and saved me. I felt so gloriously free that I wanted to thank you properly. That's why I followed you to the temple. You've made me so happy! In return I'll make sure your life goes well and everything will go exactly as you wish.' And that was the end of my dream."
V. OTHERSIDE
A woman on her way up to hear the monthly preaching at Urin'in, a temple in northern Kyoto, had come to a stone bridge - just a small slab over a tiny brook - when another, younger woman walking along the brook stepped on the slab as she crossed and overturned it. Where it had been the first woman was surprised to see, all coiled up, a little spotted snake.
The snake slowly unwound itself and set off after the young woman who had overturned its stone. This was intriguing. Perhaps the snake was angry at having been disturbed and wanted to get even. The older woman was curious enough to set out after it.
The young woman the snake was following did look round sometimes, but seemed to suspect nothing. No one passing by did either.
Aizen had insisted that they begin testing their ability to use Garganta, and Gin trailed along behind him, as always. Skirting along the sands of Hueco Mundo like a wraith, his feet light against the sands, he watched as his captain baited the Hollows and sent them through.
"Gin, you should practice as well."
"Oh, I dunno 'bout that... S'not that I can't do kido - I'm pretty good, if I do say so myself - but ya knew that already. Just it always makes my hands all cold and tingly," he whined. Gin simpered at Aizen in a way that he knew made him look more like the devil than a petulant child.
"I won't stand for you holding me back. Show me your Garganta."
"Do I hafta?"
"Unless you wish for me to inject that ability into you as I have done with our dear friend Kaname?"
Having lost this round, he replied contritely, "Yes, Captain Aizen."
Gin reached forth, and a black tear formed at his fingertips. It split the sky in a sharp, spreading crescent. It tore across worlds with a screech, a wail of snapping bones, human organs bursting like bloody sausages. To Gin, the creation of these portals never failed to put him into a certain curious frame of mind. Perhaps it was the sound, a wet sound like the ripping of damp linens; the same sound as a man's guts sliced and served on a bed of dirt, a meal of gored flesh for the master of the slaughterhouse... Or perhaps it was the ugly stitching of the Garganta as it mockingly unzipped reality to let in the stuff of nightmares. Garganta were such unhappy things, angry things, and yet they always smiled.
He and his captain crossed through the void and came upon an interesting scene. Carefully tamping down on their power so as not to be sensed, they watched the chaos unfold before their eyes.
There they were, the cute little students. And oh, look! A giant Hollow was descending upon them. Run, students, run! Gin's laughter was drowned out by the fear. The air stank of it: fear. And oooh, ouch... He grimaced as the poor sixth year girl was viciously speared through. It was unfortunate, for he had pegged her for a future ranked officer, and now they were in danger of losing Hisagi, too, which would be such a shame. After all, Hisagi made it no secret that he was aiming for a certain division. And wouldn't it be so much more interesting if Hisagi were to serve, a loyal dog, under the captain who was most responsible for the destruction of the man he had worshipped.
"Now, Captain Aizen?"
"Not yet." Aizen was calm as always as he watched. "We must wait for Soul Society's missive."
Gin, paying only half a mind to the scene below, tugged his sleeves over his hands as best he could and wished, not for the first time, that he had a little more meat on his bones so as not to be so goddamned cold all the time. Ah, what he wouldn't give to warm his fingers up under Rangiku's fun bags... Watching her squirm and bat him away because "Eek! It's cold! Stop it before you make my girls shrivel up!"
At the very least, things would have been easier if he hadn't gotten so tall, because then the standard Shinigami uniform would actually come in a size that fit him properly. Not being able to reach the top shelf would be worth it if it meant he didn't have to go a size up on all his uniforms. Even so, they still ended up with sleeves that were much too short for his liking while the rest of it hung on him, an ill-fitted sack.
It always came back to the sleeves, see? Uniform modifications would be more acceptable if he were a captain of his own squad. Ah, it'd be easier if he were a member of some other division with less of an emphasis on proper presentation, too. But oh, not the ninth! Never that - he would be an ice cube within a day! Feeling the fabric sliding up again, Gin tugged it back down with a pout.
"Soon, Gin. There's no need to pout. Such impatience is unbecoming for a man of your stature."
"Ah, ya know me best, captain." He turned his attention back to the students.
Look at them scurry! All those little first years, screaming for their lives and nearly wetting their pants! He hadn't wanted to take in all the details of their pathetic helplessness, but it was hard to ignore something so obvious. The Hollows were eating their fill tonight, and Gin felt a rare bout of uncharacteristic anger settling low in his belly. A gnawing hunger; a thirst for blood.
Now, captain? Now?
Yes.
Gin leaped into the fray. "Ikorose, Shinsou!
His blade extended. A streak of silver, a wrathful shooting star. It flew straight and true, skewering the first Hollow right between the eyes, then impaling the second, and then the third. One, two, three, the hungry spirits dissipated into the night until nothing lingered but the echoes of their last cries.
It was over in an instant. As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Shinsou contracted to its dormant state, and the viper tucked his fangs back within the folds of his clothes as if he'd never lashed out at all.
The students, they were looking at him. Or through him at Captain Aizen, most likely. Perhaps they were thinking of how strong a captain must be if a lieutenant was at such a level.
"Those three, Captain Aizen?"
"Yes."
Gin took one last glance behind him at the three students who'd had the audacity to stand their ground. Good things always came in threes. Well, bad things did as well. He wondered which it would be for those unfortunates whom Aizen had marked out. Poor little butterflies, little mice, little souls... Aizen was sure to fatten them up before the sacrificial feast. Maybe Gin could convince his captain to let him have one, too.
While Aizen walked straight back through the gate, Gin gave them a little wave. They'd be seeing a lot of each other in the future.
---
In time they reached Urin'in. The young woman climbed the steps and sat down on the wooden floor while the snake too got up the steps and wriggled to her side. Still no one saw it or raised the alarm.
When the preaching was over the young woman left, and the snake with her. The older woman stayed behind them on the way back. In the southern district of the city the woman entered a house that seemed to be hers, and the snake followed.
Hinamori stepped out of the infirmary.
"How's Hisagi-sempai holding up?" Abarai asked.
"Pretty well. He'll be fully recovered in time for graduation." Hinamori smiled reassuringly as she took her customary place between her two best friends, a hand on each of their arms.
Kira felt his tensed shoulders start to relax. It had already been a week since that traumatic experience, and even though the three of them now had the respect of the entire student body, he strangely felt no pride at his supposed accomplishments.
What had he done? He had frozen in place and nearly wet himself until Hinamori's charge had woken him up, and even then, he hadn't been strong enough or fast enough to save Hisagi-sempai. If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Ichimaru...
Kira sighed. "I think... I would like to join the Fifth Division."
His friends responded enthusiastically.
---
The snake was unlikely to do anything during the day, but the older woman was determined to be on hand for whatever might happen that night. She went up to the house, explained that she had just arrived from the country and had nowhere to stay, and begged for a night's lodging. An old lady invited her in, whereby she found the young woman sitting on the raised floor with the snake coiled at the foot of a pillar, gazing at her.
When the sun set and darkness fell, the visitor could no longer see the snake, so she proposed spinning hemp in exchange for the old lady's hospitality. For this she would need light. The old lady gladly accepted her offer and lit a lamp. As the visitor spun, she looked around her. The young woman seemed to have lain down to sleep. No doubt the snake would go to her now - but it did not. The visitor felt she ought to mention the snake, but decided she would only make trouble for herself if she did and so kept silent.
Captain Aizen held calligraphy classes at the academy once a week, at which Hinamori attended religiously and was a prized student due to her natural artistic skill. Kira went with her sometimes because his penmanship could do with some improvement, especially if he was to be taken seriously as a poet. After all, haiku wasn't just a string of words of a particular pattern. It was also a visual art where composition was just as important as content.
And Renji... showed no interest in "that scholarly stuff". (Actually, he had been banned by Hinamori after the time he accidentally dropped Kira's inkstone on her head. Making Momo look a fool in front of Captain Aizen, intentional or not, was not a sin that would be easily forgiven.) Despite Renji's absence, Kira found that he quite enjoyed the occasional calligraphy lesson. Captain Aizen was good at making things easy to understand, and then, while the mob of Shinigami girls crowded around their teacher after class, Kira found that sometimes Lieutenant Ichimaru would be waiting outside. While Kira waited for his friend to finish up her questions, and Ichimaru waited for his captain to finish answering them, they kept each other company.
Today he had come with his inks and brushes, and yet he stood outside the building, wringing his hands at what he was about to do: skip class. Lately, Kira had been coming to these lessons more and more frequently... and leaving class earlier and earlier. It was an optional extracurricular endeavor, but Kira's inner sense of propriety recoiled nonetheless. He liked calligraphy class, he really did. It was just that he liked spending time with Lieutenant Ichimaru much more. He blushed at his own train of thought.
Kira never understood why others were so afraid of Lieutenant Ichimaru. Well, he understood it intellectually, of course, because Ichimaru's features were uniquely sharp in a disconcerting way, and it was true that the ever-present smile lent his face an air of cruelty. He was not handsome. He was not gentle. But he had intelligence, strength, and an odd sort of charisma that was uniquely his own.
Kira couldn't see why so many people went out of their way to avoid having conversations with Ichimaru, who always had something clever to say if only one would approach him. He didn't get why his classmates called him "brave" or "crazy" when he admitted to enjoying his time with Ichimaru when they happened to meet after Aizen's calligraphy class.
At first, they merely exchanged polite greetings and companionable silence, but then Kira started noticing things. Ichimaru lived in the present and in his own world all at once. It wasn't uncommon for Ichimaru to devise his own games with whatever he had on hand that day: twigs, berries, tiny pebbles... He examined the most mundane things with utmost attention to detail, and then he made them "fun".
Kira, running the soft tip of his calligraphy brush over his palm, turned away from the main entrance. He took several unsteady steps through the courtyard to the back of the building where Ichimaru would most likely be found, either sprawled out basking in the warm afternoon sun, resting beneath a shady tree, or poking around the dirt in a very undignified, un-lieutenant-like way. At times like these, he looked less like a commanding officer and more like a fellow student plotting pranks against their teachers. And Kira could pretend, for a moment, that they were friends.
It was option #3 today, Kira noted as he tentatively strode in upon the scene. Ichimaru was on his hands and knees, hidden from view except for his behind, which jutted out from under the cover of the ferns. As Kira softly approached, he saw that the twigs and berries had become an elaborate labyrinth, and Ichimaru appeared to be running a race between a pill bug and a beetle. Kira couldn't suppress a small chuckle at the sight, which caused the other man to look up. And if such a thing were possible, his customary smile was even more mischievous than usual.
"Ya laughin' at me?"
"Uh, n-no, sir-"
"Because I'll have ya know that bugs're respectable creatures. I'm bettin' on the beetle."
Kira cocked his head to the side, trying and failing to analyze their conversation in a logical way. He settled for solemn acceptance. "I suppose I shall try my luck with the pill bug," he said. Ichimaru scooted over, and Kira joined him in his insanity, kneeling in the dirt, staring intently as two crawly things leisurely stumbled along.
"What're ya willin' to give if I win?"
"I don't know. Anything, I suppose."
"Oh really."
Ichimaru's tone was far from comforting, and Kira was quick to amend his earlier statement. "Anything within reason, that is. P-provided that you agree to the same terms, if they are acceptable to you, sir."
"It's a deal," Ichimaru said. He took up a leaf and tickled the pill bug, which immediately curled up in a defensive ball while the beetle trudged on ahead.
"Ah! That's not fair!"
"We agreed on the stakes, Kira-kun, but we never set the rules." Ichimaru smiled at him. Disingenuously, of course.
Kira's lips pulled taut in a stubborn line as he worked out the consequences of his planned actions. Ichimaru was not playing fair, and this called for serious payback. Yet on the other hand, a noble must always carry himself with graceful comport and must never be rude to a superior. Bear with it. Be patient. Obey, his aunt's voice echoed in his mind. Do not show contempt to your superiors even if they abuse you.
"Aww, not gonna put up a fight? Thanks for the easy win, Kira-kun... I'll be sure to select a suitable prize." Ichimaru mockingly put a hand on his chin. "Hmm, what do I want? Hmm..." He picked up the leaf again and lazily prodded the beetle to make it go faster and further cement his win. All the while, Kira's poor pill bug lay curled up in fear, because each time it began to uncurl, Ichimaru cruelly tickled it back into a ball.
Challenge accepted.
Kira drew in a deep breath and blew the pill bug across the finish line.
"That wasn't fair," Ichimaru said with a frown.
"It doesn't matter how I did it - I still won."
"Aaah, a man after my own heart."
Kira felt an irrational swelling of pride bubbling up in his chest at that statement. Ichimaru Gin was impressed with him, even if it was for something as stupid as cheating at a childish diversion which they were both far too old for. His lungs constricted, and it was hard to breathe.
"Well," asked Gin, "yer ready to pick a prize?"
It didn't matter what the rumors said about him being from the outskirts of the Rukongai. It didn't matter that the rumors were true - and Kira knew them to be true, for he had never forgotten his meeting with the mysterious boy in the garden some years ago.
So, despite his well-meaning classmates telling him to stay away, Kira made no changes in the way he treated the other. He trusted his intuition; his intuition told him that Ichimaru was not a bad man. No one who took as much pleasure from the natural world as Ichimaru did could be all that bad, Kira thought. He was convinced that Ichimaru had within him a poet's soul. The ability to find beauty in sorrow, or humor from pain. In this they were kindred spirits.
And besides, who else could he turn to, when he wanted to race pill bugs among the ferns? And to forget the weight of the expectations placed on his shoulders? How wonderful it would be to stay by this man's side for just a little bit longer...
"Take me across the wall," he said.
Gin extended his hand, and this time Izuru took hold. It was warm where their skin met.
---
Next morning the visitor woke up with a start, anxious to know what might have happened during the night. After getting up quite normally, the young woman told the old lady she had had an odd dream, and the old lady insisted on hearing it.
"Last night," said the young woman, "I dreamed somebody stood by my pillow. She was human from the waist up, but from the waist down she was a snake."
They stood atop a teahouse overlooking the marketplace of the Rukongai's fifth district. Kira's eyes were wide with wonder, his cheeks flushed and lips curled upward in barely concealed excitement. It was such a simple thing, to sneak outside the walls, and yet it brought such pleasure. Gin found it all to be delightfully amusing.
"You were wrong, you know, when you said we would never meet again."
It was barely a whisper, not meant for anyone's ears, but Gin heard it and responded. "Never thought ya'd make it this far." He snorted in amusement. "Tha' was then, this is now. I've learned my lesson 'bout underestimatin' you."
Kira appeared pensive, and perhaps a bit surprised. "You remember?"
Gin shrugged it off with a nonchalant smile. "I'm sure ya know who I am by now, but if it still matters, my name is Ichimaru Gin, and I thank ya for keepin' me from dyin' of boredom."
"Kira Izuru," he said with a polite bow. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Ichimaru."
Gin leaned in closer, letting his breath ghost along the shell of an ear. "May I call you Izuru? You can call me Gin..."
Kira's subsequent shiver was delicious, but before the younger man could gather his wits, Gin had pulled away. He hopped down to street-level without a sound, shocking the owner of the food cart he had landed in front of. The old lady yelped when she was suddenly greeted with a grinning face, but Gin merely said, "Hiya. Two, please." She warily accepted his coin, but no sooner than she felt the metal against her hand, and he was gone.
Up again, to the roof. Gin handed one of the meatbuns to Kira, and motioned for the boy to sit down with him. Kira watched the people go by. And Gin watched Kira taking delicate bites of his meal, eyes shining, the entirety of him aglow with potential.
It was his innocence that first caught Gin's attention. There was a soul in that boy that wasn't pure in the way saints were said to be pure, but rather pure in a way that was quiet and expressive all at once; soothing, but with a hint of steel and mischief underneath. It was a poetic sort of gentleness that carried great secrets within, waiting to be explored and set free. Kira was... Izuru was absolutely fascinating in his strangeness. He was fun to watch, and to tease, but there was also something else about him.
Izuru's closest friends were, without exception, all from the Rukongai. It most likely wasn't a conscious choice on his part, and Gin doubted that he'd even noticed, but the fact remained that this said a lot about Izuru's character. And this was dangerous because it made Gin feel things. Here was a person who truly respected him as he was, not in spite of who he was or where he had come from. A person's origins didn't register as important in Izuru's mind, nor did he ever ask for the gritty details of street life. Even if he had been told, he would probably frown and say, "It must have been a hard life, but I'm glad you're here now."
More so than that, here was a person for whom Gin's strange plays did not provoke disgust or disdain. And this was dangerous because it made Gin feel complacent when complacency was unacceptable for his mission. He was content here. Spending time with Izuru softened him; diverted him from his ultimate goal. It made Gin hope for things that he knew he was not meant for in this life, not when he was so tainted with hatred and thoughts of revenge. He knew he should stay away, except that he had never been able to stop poking at something when he got curious. And Izuru made him very, very curious.
This could not go on. No, no, this could not go on. The market was closing up for the evening. Gin's smile turned sinister just as a chill wind blew past, just as he thought, 'Oh my, what a conundrum. Something must be done.'
"She was beautiful, though, and this is what she said to me. 'Once I hated someone so much that I turned into a snake and spent many long and lonely years under the stone slab of a bridge. Yesterday you overturned the stone and saved me. I felt so gloriously free that I wanted to thank you properly. That's why I followed you to the temple. You've made me so happy! In return I'll make sure your life goes well and everything will go exactly as you wish.' And that was the end of my dream."