Contest Entry-Fanfiction-"Beating Resolution" by Strandedthougt
Long, dark eyelashes met in a flutter as her eyes closed from exhaustion.
The hell moth had led her there. To the room occupied by a lanky teenage boy with vivid orange hair and a rather bleak spirit lingering near him, but that wasn’t her concern. The hollow she’d lost track of was what she was after. He wouldn’t let her carry on, and soon she was thrown across the room by his stocking covered foot. It shouldn’t have been able to happen. Not once during all her years of being a Shinigami had she ever heard of a human striking one down, how? It just wasn’t possible. Now, he had her attention, but this had already happened. Wasn’t she in Hueco Mundo?
Rukia tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t move-she couldn’t feel anything. Another hell moth danced across her vision. Her body, no, she looked down, and couldn’t see any of her limbs, she, whatever she may be, followed in the moth’s wake.
His zanpakuto was huge, raw, uncontrolled spirit energy pulsed from him seconds after she pierced him with Shirayuki. She would have shook her head looking back at the memory, but her attempt at the movement reminded her again that she was not of body. She considered how weak she had been, the fact that a child, one whom had never before wielded a zanpakuto or faced a hollow had killed it with three blows when she had been struggling. Her gaze searched her form as the memory played out, the utter panic she had felt during that moment when all of her dark force had been sucked away into his soul overwhelmed her, and the hell moth appeared again. She followed after it, attached by an unknown force.
They danced through memory after memory as he took on her jobs for her and became stronger with every slaying of a hollow, and as she became more attached to him.
Ukitake’s words echoed as she watched him battle Grand Fisher…a battle of pride. A battle of pride, she was witness to more than one battle of pride. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but it became clear as her vision blurred to the night she was taken back to Soul Society. It had been torture to watch as they cut him down that night. Why had he followed her? Why hadn’t she trained him harder? Why hadn’t she prepared him for this, she knew it was going to happen. He was still trying to get up, even after his zanpakuto had broken. She had to keep him from dying. It was already her fault he was on the verge of dying. She wouldn’t let his pride kill him.
She didn’t watch herself walk away, but stayed focused on Ichigo as he watched her disappear into the night. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place, but just as she glimpsed it she was pulled away.
Once again, she was following behind the hell moth. All at once everything was white, a blinding white her vision couldn’t escape from.
Her eyes adjusted, and there she was looking mournfully out the small set of slits in the wall out to the vibrant blue of the sky in Sereitei. Those had been placed in that exact spot to tease anyone housed in those walls. A hand reached up to the collar around her neck of its own volition. She couldn’t even talk to Shirayuki in her imprisonment. She had fully accepted her fate. Renji was outside of her cell. The expression on her face didn’t change, but she was glad to see someone else. Their conversation was constantly filled with awkward silences, until she asked the only question on her mind. “What happens when you die?” a voice that sounded unlike hers asked.
She hadn’t taken in the look on her friend’s face before, but now she watched as his eyes grew in shock. “Idiot, they’re not really going to execute you. They’ll change their minds. They’re not going to do anything to you,” he answered after a few minutes of heavy silence.
She raised her eyes to meet his and scoffed at his serious expression. “I’ve accepted it, why can’t you? Tell me, what do you think happens when you die?” she urged.
She watched as Renji stared at her like she’d grown a third arm. His stance grew stiff as his mouth opened and closed. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to speak, “I’ve heard that your life, your memories flash before your eyes,” he whispered.
“Why would you want to remember everything, all those moments where you failed? Is it a final torture before you die? Funny Eyebrows has a strange theory, ne?” She wouldn’t admit it, but the look on his face at his new nickname had lifted some of her melancholy.
A flash of memories? She was questioning his logic again. It made sense to her now that she was going through it. Stop. No, she couldn’t be seeing her life, she wasn’t going to die. She couldn’t not after everyone had gone to save her. Too many people had risked their lives for her to die now. The hell moth floated in front of her, its wings beating at the eerie air, and the room flashed black for a moment.
Ukitake blocked her vision. The white walls were bright compared to his pale skin. He must have recently had one of his coughing fits, but he still came to see her. “Don’t despair, Rukia, we’ll find a way. It’s a misunderstanding,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“No, I gave my dark force to a human. I have to pay the consequences to my actions,” she said.
“You did it to save people, and succeeded many times. Don’t think death is what you deserve,” he said, lifting her chin to make her eyes meet his.
“Just, please, tell me what happens when you die,” she requested.
“From what I’ve been told your hell moth takes your soul to be reborn, but it won’t come to that. Trust me,” he said, and then left the fading room.
Hell moth, it couldn’t be. She looked at the black wings working furiously at the air. She didn’t want it. She tried to swat at it, but couldn’t. She tried to scream for it to leave, but no sounds burst through the heavy air. Death was not an option. People were counting on her. Ichigo would never forgive her if she died, not after all the fuss he’d made about them splitting up to search for Orihime. Her nakama weren’t with her-she couldn’t give her heart to the sterile walls Aaroniro Aluluerie had led her to.
Her train of thought halted when something white landed on the hell moth. The darkness crept away from the spot the white object landed on until the hell moth was as pure as fresh snow. No, until it was snow, a snowflake dancing on the sudden burst of wind that tugged at her. Snowflakes gathered and melted together, constantly flowing with the breeze.
“Shirayuki?” Rukia whispered, not noticing that this time her voice did sound.
The woman as pale as snow with hair so dark the contrast was breathtaking nodded. “I was only showing you what was necessary. Wake my nakama, and dance with me once more,” she said in her deep, velvety voice, before bursting into millions of snowflakes again.
Rukia’s eyes snapped open to the cold breeze that filled the room. Shirayuki was shining white in the sunlight that filtered through the hole in the ceiling. Rukia tore off the a couple inches from the bottom of her garment and painfully wrapped it around her wound, keeping her eyes on Shirayuki at all times. Her reitsu was low, but she could still fight, everyone else would. With Shirayuki’s help she got back to her feet.
“Sado-chan needs my help,” she told herself as she walked out of the room. “It’s what Ichigo would want me to do,” she told herself as she ignored the other traces of familiar reitsu and focused on his.
The hell moth had led her there. To the room occupied by a lanky teenage boy with vivid orange hair and a rather bleak spirit lingering near him, but that wasn’t her concern. The hollow she’d lost track of was what she was after. He wouldn’t let her carry on, and soon she was thrown across the room by his stocking covered foot. It shouldn’t have been able to happen. Not once during all her years of being a Shinigami had she ever heard of a human striking one down, how? It just wasn’t possible. Now, he had her attention, but this had already happened. Wasn’t she in Hueco Mundo?
Rukia tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t move-she couldn’t feel anything. Another hell moth danced across her vision. Her body, no, she looked down, and couldn’t see any of her limbs, she, whatever she may be, followed in the moth’s wake.
His zanpakuto was huge, raw, uncontrolled spirit energy pulsed from him seconds after she pierced him with Shirayuki. She would have shook her head looking back at the memory, but her attempt at the movement reminded her again that she was not of body. She considered how weak she had been, the fact that a child, one whom had never before wielded a zanpakuto or faced a hollow had killed it with three blows when she had been struggling. Her gaze searched her form as the memory played out, the utter panic she had felt during that moment when all of her dark force had been sucked away into his soul overwhelmed her, and the hell moth appeared again. She followed after it, attached by an unknown force.
They danced through memory after memory as he took on her jobs for her and became stronger with every slaying of a hollow, and as she became more attached to him.
Ukitake’s words echoed as she watched him battle Grand Fisher…a battle of pride. A battle of pride, she was witness to more than one battle of pride. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but it became clear as her vision blurred to the night she was taken back to Soul Society. It had been torture to watch as they cut him down that night. Why had he followed her? Why hadn’t she trained him harder? Why hadn’t she prepared him for this, she knew it was going to happen. He was still trying to get up, even after his zanpakuto had broken. She had to keep him from dying. It was already her fault he was on the verge of dying. She wouldn’t let his pride kill him.
She didn’t watch herself walk away, but stayed focused on Ichigo as he watched her disappear into the night. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place, but just as she glimpsed it she was pulled away.
Once again, she was following behind the hell moth. All at once everything was white, a blinding white her vision couldn’t escape from.
Her eyes adjusted, and there she was looking mournfully out the small set of slits in the wall out to the vibrant blue of the sky in Sereitei. Those had been placed in that exact spot to tease anyone housed in those walls. A hand reached up to the collar around her neck of its own volition. She couldn’t even talk to Shirayuki in her imprisonment. She had fully accepted her fate. Renji was outside of her cell. The expression on her face didn’t change, but she was glad to see someone else. Their conversation was constantly filled with awkward silences, until she asked the only question on her mind. “What happens when you die?” a voice that sounded unlike hers asked.
She hadn’t taken in the look on her friend’s face before, but now she watched as his eyes grew in shock. “Idiot, they’re not really going to execute you. They’ll change their minds. They’re not going to do anything to you,” he answered after a few minutes of heavy silence.
She raised her eyes to meet his and scoffed at his serious expression. “I’ve accepted it, why can’t you? Tell me, what do you think happens when you die?” she urged.
She watched as Renji stared at her like she’d grown a third arm. His stance grew stiff as his mouth opened and closed. Finally, he mustered up enough courage to speak, “I’ve heard that your life, your memories flash before your eyes,” he whispered.
“Why would you want to remember everything, all those moments where you failed? Is it a final torture before you die? Funny Eyebrows has a strange theory, ne?” She wouldn’t admit it, but the look on his face at his new nickname had lifted some of her melancholy.
A flash of memories? She was questioning his logic again. It made sense to her now that she was going through it. Stop. No, she couldn’t be seeing her life, she wasn’t going to die. She couldn’t not after everyone had gone to save her. Too many people had risked their lives for her to die now. The hell moth floated in front of her, its wings beating at the eerie air, and the room flashed black for a moment.
Ukitake blocked her vision. The white walls were bright compared to his pale skin. He must have recently had one of his coughing fits, but he still came to see her. “Don’t despair, Rukia, we’ll find a way. It’s a misunderstanding,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“No, I gave my dark force to a human. I have to pay the consequences to my actions,” she said.
“You did it to save people, and succeeded many times. Don’t think death is what you deserve,” he said, lifting her chin to make her eyes meet his.
“Just, please, tell me what happens when you die,” she requested.
“From what I’ve been told your hell moth takes your soul to be reborn, but it won’t come to that. Trust me,” he said, and then left the fading room.
Hell moth, it couldn’t be. She looked at the black wings working furiously at the air. She didn’t want it. She tried to swat at it, but couldn’t. She tried to scream for it to leave, but no sounds burst through the heavy air. Death was not an option. People were counting on her. Ichigo would never forgive her if she died, not after all the fuss he’d made about them splitting up to search for Orihime. Her nakama weren’t with her-she couldn’t give her heart to the sterile walls Aaroniro Aluluerie had led her to.
Her train of thought halted when something white landed on the hell moth. The darkness crept away from the spot the white object landed on until the hell moth was as pure as fresh snow. No, until it was snow, a snowflake dancing on the sudden burst of wind that tugged at her. Snowflakes gathered and melted together, constantly flowing with the breeze.
“Shirayuki?” Rukia whispered, not noticing that this time her voice did sound.
The woman as pale as snow with hair so dark the contrast was breathtaking nodded. “I was only showing you what was necessary. Wake my nakama, and dance with me once more,” she said in her deep, velvety voice, before bursting into millions of snowflakes again.
Rukia’s eyes snapped open to the cold breeze that filled the room. Shirayuki was shining white in the sunlight that filtered through the hole in the ceiling. Rukia tore off the a couple inches from the bottom of her garment and painfully wrapped it around her wound, keeping her eyes on Shirayuki at all times. Her reitsu was low, but she could still fight, everyone else would. With Shirayuki’s help she got back to her feet.
“Sado-chan needs my help,” she told herself as she walked out of the room. “It’s what Ichigo would want me to do,” she told herself as she ignored the other traces of familiar reitsu and focused on his.