By Any Other Name - 11
Instead of working on my NaNoWriMo project which isn't going anywhere (except perhaps the trash bin), I offer you this instead, my fellow world-weary IchiRuki fans: the last two vignettes of my series, a little gift from you to me.
Rated M (but I prefer Y) just to be consistent.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Bleach franchise.
Credit is due to kasuchi and spring_spring for their time lines which I used as reference. Any mistakes in dates are wholly mine. All quotes in bold come from the official Viz translation -- hopefully they got it right this time. :P
Thanks to wicked_liz for pointing out some major slips of grammar and whatnot. If you find any more things in this version that need correction, please be a sweetie and inform me.
Reviews are like boxes of chocolate, one can never receive too many in one lifetime.
Thank you for reading this series to the very end. XD
In which Rukia's favorite manga is not what it appears to be.
30. Rukia: Pillow Book
Ever since Rukia returned to the living world, she began to freak out every time someone snuck up behind her while she was reading. “That book again?” Yuzu once innocently asked her. “You’ve been reading it forever.”
She would blithely smile and continue reading as if no interruption had happened. Rukia would rather die than anyone - especially Ichigo - Ichigo find out the real contents of “Sophia’s Secret Treasures,” a manga with such a lurid gothic cover it couldn’t be real - because it wasn’t.
“Sophia’s Secret Treasures” was in fact the dummy front for a diary that Rukia carried with her everywhere. It was her pillow book and Ichigo would go ballistic if he found out its precious contents. It might prove an embarrassing document if it was discovered, not just for herself but also for him.
Thankfully he was off training with the Vaizards. Still, he might return home any moment now. Rukia could not risk leaving her pillow book lying around for him to find.
Rukia was a good Shinigami; she had put her investigative skills to good use. Her object of intense study: Kurosaki Ichigo. She was a secret collector of all his little gestures and phrases over the months. It was an amusing pastime for her to list down all the moments he let his true nature escape.
It was not his fault that his mask sometimes slipped. No one can hide behind such a tough persona forever.
She started keeping a diary in the middle of August, after her release from captivity. She had found herself bored in Soul Society, with nothing better to do but recuperate from her loss of spiritual power. She slowly re-trained as much as they allowed her, yet Captain Ukitake always shooed her away from the training grounds much too early. Rukia found herself doing nothing but watch the breeze wisp through the willows of the Kuchiki courtyard. Searching her recent memory for special moments in the living world, Rukia realized that she had too many of them. She decided to catalogue them before they were lost forever.
Matter-of-fact and concise, excerpts of her favorite entries follow below.
Mid-afternoon. Ichigo faced with a dilemma: should he protect his sister who is ill or help me fight a Hollow who was chasing Chad carrying a parakeet?
For me, the choice was obvious. But Ichigo still had a guilt-stricken look on his face as he protested: “I can’t leave you!”
I told him what he needed to hear. I knew he would find me.
3rd Saturday of May. We spent a wasted day waiting for a dog or a cat to be hit by a car by the roadside. We still needed a vessel for the mod soul Urahara sold us. While crouching by the sidewalk, my bare knee grazed against Ichigo and would you believe it, the fool actually blushed. He’s such a virgin.
May 30. I sent Ichigo out of the room again to fetch me some more tonkatsu sauce for my dinner. He came back with the entire bottle and some fruit for dessert. Who would have thought he was such a gentleman?
When I tried to thank him he merely growled and hit me with the orange.
June 10. Keigo teased me again about how much he would like to spend lunch alone with me, somewhere he could get to know me a lot better. Ichigo slammed a fist into his face, and then yet another one when Keigo complained that Ichigo just wanted me for himself but was just too chicken. After that Ichigo just stalked off, but his fist was still clenched and the back of his nape was a furious shade of red.
Interesting. I still wonder what chickens have to do with jealousy.
June 17. It was hot when the battle with Grand Fisher started, but started to rain as the afternoon dragged on. When I found him he said: “Hey, what took you so long? I already beat him.”
Idiot. He told me not to interfere. Yet his grin was sardonic despite all the gashes. Blood was flowing down his brow and his cheek. “You thought I was serious?”
So he wanted me to help him? What of his pride? I didn’t understand him at that time. When he finally fell into my arms, I cradled him in my lap and healed him. I used up all the little energy I had in my body and left none for myself.
I couldn’t let him die. I will not let him die.
Wednesday evening. We stood in the crowd waiting for that Don Kanonji person. I told Ichigo to loosen up and relax when I realized his eyes traveled from my feet and focused on my bare legs. When did he start staring at my legs?
At the time, it occurred to me that if he was going to continue contemplating my lower limbs like that, I will be forced to wear longer skirts or those scandalous tight things they call jeans.
July 16. After fighting off the Grand Menos, Ichigo looked at me sitting on the grass. He smirked despite his massive injuries: Tessai did some instant healing before they packed up and vanished. For some reason I could not move even if Urahara had released his binding spell on me. My legs trembled as if I had no control over them.
“What are you doing, just sitting there?” he growled. “Are you waiting for an encore?”
I wanted to hit him but I was too relieved he recovered. I did something stupid: I held out my hands to him silently.
Ichigo was puzzled for a moment. Then he held out his own and pulled me to my feet. His hands were still warm from the fight.
“Let’s go home,” he said. His face lost its confident smirk and lapsed into exhaustion. “I will not take no for an answer.”
It was only then he realized he was still holding my hands in his. He dropped them quickly, as if I had burned him and not the other way around.
Midnight. It was safe to tiptoe out of the room for a glass of water. When I returned, Ichigo had shifted in his sleep, throwing off his sheet. He was wearing pajamas but his muscles were well defined under the cotton. His face was peaceful as he dreamed. There was a crinkle of a smile that escaped the corner of his mouth. His bright hair was tousled and damp. I wished I could curl up into the crevice of his neck and nestle against his smooth cheek, and nibble so softly on his earlobe. It looked so tasty as if it was made of warm caramel.
July 18. I have to leave tonight. I made up my mind. After school I had stopped Ichigo and couldn’t get any words out. I ended up looking at the ground like a fool. He had absolutely no idea what I was trying to say to him. We stood in front of the school entrance, too: such an awkward place for a public display of stupidity.
I needed to leave this boy before it was too late.
The last entry is as follows:
September 7. Captain Hitsugaya is on to me. I just know it. He had that quizzical look on his face when I told them to go ahead to the high school and look for Ichigo because I had something I had to check out first. As if looking for Ichigo wasn’t the first order of the day!
I really just wanted to enter through the classroom window. I learned from Kon that the best entrances are the ones unexpected. The look on Ichigo’s face was priceless. I knew his gaze lingered on my legs and thighs again, but when his eyes met mine I just wanted to dissolve. I wanted to yield and comfort him properly, tell him it wasn’t his fault and that he could finally rest from all of his self-imposed responsibilities.
But I couldn’t. I was sent him to help make him stronger and to push him even harder than before, even if it’s unfair to him. I had to pretend I was unmoved by his conflicting emotions, which others only saw as cowardice. They were all watching me. I could only to do what they expected me to do.
The best thing about that moment was this: I was the only one to see the softness in his eyes, as if I had come to save him from his isolation and his free fall from grace.
Standing behind Ichigo, none of them saw his expression, only mine. It was worth earning the Captain’s suspicion and Rangiku’s teasing. I don’t care if Renji reports my silly behavior to my brother. I don’t regret the stunt at all: the look of relief on his face told me everything I need to know. The way he said my name was fond and gentle, as if he had just cupped my face with a feather-light caress. It confirmed everything I knew all along.
It’s been a long time, Ichigo.
His love was hiding in plain sight.
It was more than enough for her.
On time, pride, and waiting for the right moment.
When I fall in love, I take my time, there’s no need to hurry when I’m making up my mind. - Jason Mraz
You’d let your pride ruin everything, you stupid child! - Yoruichi
31. Ichigo: A Question of Time
Kuchiki Byakuya said I was slow, even to fall.
It was true. I was slow to fall in love with his sister. At first she was an accident, a serendipitous means to save my family and myself. She appeared out of nowhere like a deus ex machina and helped me keep a vow I made after my mother died.
A day later, she was an imposition. I had unwittingly got her into trouble by sucking out all her power. She blackmailed me into doing her job until she recovered. She harassed, threatened, and even occasionally cajoled me into shape.
Somewhere along the way, she became a prerequisite to action. I couldn’t move without her: something Ishida made a point of mockery. Yet Ishida was wrong. I didn’t need her permission to act. I just preferred her to be around. It wasn’t just because she wore the glove that slammed my soul out of my body, either. It was on a much deeper level.
Our working relationship was a well-oiled machine. She made the decisions and I implemented them. It was simple and effective. They say that two heads are better than one: so it was for us. We may have bickered but how many times did I actually get to veto her choice, or think of anything better on my own? Not many. I never admitted outright, at any given time, that she was usually right. I had my pride to save and besides - she would never let me hear the end of it. She was that type of crazy harridan. If she wouldn’t budge an inch, I just had to push back all the same.
Later on, she became a necessity. She slowly ingrained herself into my life until she was like the very air I breathed. Her presence was constant and oddly soothing. I took her granted, like a normal person assumes that he has two hands and feet and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
Her exquisite face was the first one I saw in the morning and the last before I went to sleep. Even in my dreams, my imagination could not escape the very things she introduced to me: Hollows, the mysterious Soul Society, konsos, modified souls.
Later on, I realized I began to fantasize about the physical aspects of her as well: the gloss of her hair, the brilliant amethyst hue of her eyes, the slim taper of her waist, the curves of her hips, the pristine skin of her shapely legs, the neat trim of her ankles. Yet I attempted to push these reminders of her femininity out of my mind.
How she managed to cross the threshold to the fortress of my heart is beyond me. Aloof Kurosaki Ichigo, the scourge of faculty and the terror of neighborhood thugs, is bested by a slip of a Shinigami. She crept in undetected and got under my guard.
I don’t know why she did it. She really didn’t need me, don’t you see. She could have managed all the little things by herself. I knew she must have been a competent officer to receive a mission on her own. But she didn’t. She always acted as if she was helpless without me. It started with a simple juice box and then things escalated from there.
She made it a point that she needed me to bring her meals to my room - our room. She needed help with most of her homework so I ended up studying the same lessons twice in one night. She made it clear she needed me to stand lookout while she took a bath in case my insane father got curious at the sound of running water in the middle of the night. She insisted on jumping on my back as we patrolled the streets at night, seeking out Hollows and lost souls.
More men than women fall in love at first sight. For me it took two months, tops.
Love at first sight of her, every morning, when she slid open her the closet door. Love at last sight of her, every night, when she disappeared from my view to sleep and perchance to dream. Did she ever dream of me?
Two months: then she became my obsession. When she suddenly disappeared from my life, I was lost. I could not look at anything without being haunted by her. Everything I saw or touched screamed her name: Rukia. Rukia. Rukia. I thought I was going to go out of my mind.
At first I thought it felt like I had lost my mother again, but no, the feeling was different. It would be like comparing chrysanthemums to cherry blossoms. With my mother, it was the grief of an abandoned child. With Rukia, the passion that fired within me was that of a man who just realized he was in love, and that his love was going to be sacrificed to satisfy the caprices of twisted justice.
I was slow to admit it to myself. I loathed the idea of being in love with anyone. I kept telling myself and everyone else it was a matter of honor; it was a matter of a debt to be repaid. It was an easy answer to give, and it was one reason many were happy to accept.
I risked dying to become a Shinigami once more. I trained hard and became strong in order to save her. I disrupted the very fabric of Soul Society just for her. If my mentors and my friends still clung to the tenuous belief it was only due to a debt of honor, then they all are bigger fools than me.
Deep within me, I already knew the real truth even if I could not let it break into the surface of my consciousness. Such a strong epiphany would distract me from the task at hand. But Zangetsu caught on faster than I did. He’s the sharpest embodiment of my soul, after all. Zangetsu knew who stopped the rain from falling.
By the time I had snatched her from death, I hoped Rukia realized the truth too, even if I was too dumb and too proud to tell her with words. With our unique relationship, I’m not even sure if words are still needed to define what’s already there.
I know I am still young and that humans measure time differently than Shinigamis do. I know I had all the time in the living world, and in the next, to tell Rukia everything I carry in my soul for her, if she actually needs to hear it. Someday. I need to be a braver man than I currently am to face up to such a confession.
Right now is too soon. But I know it will never be too late.
I am a young man with an enormous amount of foolish pride. I have more than just a Hollow mask - I have a public persona. The scowling, ill-tempered brute that everyone is familiar with is the antithesis of who I really am. I have many secrets. Even my best friends don't know what I am really thinking. I do not like being stripped of my defenses, even by the woman I love unconditionally.
Byakuya said I was slow, even to fall. He did not know how right he was.
-finis-
Rated M (but I prefer Y) just to be consistent.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Bleach franchise.
Credit is due to kasuchi and spring_spring for their time lines which I used as reference. Any mistakes in dates are wholly mine. All quotes in bold come from the official Viz translation -- hopefully they got it right this time. :P
Thanks to wicked_liz for pointing out some major slips of grammar and whatnot. If you find any more things in this version that need correction, please be a sweetie and inform me.
Reviews are like boxes of chocolate, one can never receive too many in one lifetime.
Thank you for reading this series to the very end. XD
In which Rukia's favorite manga is not what it appears to be.
30. Rukia: Pillow Book
Ever since Rukia returned to the living world, she began to freak out every time someone snuck up behind her while she was reading. “That book again?” Yuzu once innocently asked her. “You’ve been reading it forever.”
She would blithely smile and continue reading as if no interruption had happened. Rukia would rather die than anyone - especially Ichigo - Ichigo find out the real contents of “Sophia’s Secret Treasures,” a manga with such a lurid gothic cover it couldn’t be real - because it wasn’t.
“Sophia’s Secret Treasures” was in fact the dummy front for a diary that Rukia carried with her everywhere. It was her pillow book and Ichigo would go ballistic if he found out its precious contents. It might prove an embarrassing document if it was discovered, not just for herself but also for him.
Thankfully he was off training with the Vaizards. Still, he might return home any moment now. Rukia could not risk leaving her pillow book lying around for him to find.
Rukia was a good Shinigami; she had put her investigative skills to good use. Her object of intense study: Kurosaki Ichigo. She was a secret collector of all his little gestures and phrases over the months. It was an amusing pastime for her to list down all the moments he let his true nature escape.
It was not his fault that his mask sometimes slipped. No one can hide behind such a tough persona forever.
She started keeping a diary in the middle of August, after her release from captivity. She had found herself bored in Soul Society, with nothing better to do but recuperate from her loss of spiritual power. She slowly re-trained as much as they allowed her, yet Captain Ukitake always shooed her away from the training grounds much too early. Rukia found herself doing nothing but watch the breeze wisp through the willows of the Kuchiki courtyard. Searching her recent memory for special moments in the living world, Rukia realized that she had too many of them. She decided to catalogue them before they were lost forever.
Matter-of-fact and concise, excerpts of her favorite entries follow below.
Mid-afternoon. Ichigo faced with a dilemma: should he protect his sister who is ill or help me fight a Hollow who was chasing Chad carrying a parakeet?
For me, the choice was obvious. But Ichigo still had a guilt-stricken look on his face as he protested: “I can’t leave you!”
I told him what he needed to hear. I knew he would find me.
3rd Saturday of May. We spent a wasted day waiting for a dog or a cat to be hit by a car by the roadside. We still needed a vessel for the mod soul Urahara sold us. While crouching by the sidewalk, my bare knee grazed against Ichigo and would you believe it, the fool actually blushed. He’s such a virgin.
May 30. I sent Ichigo out of the room again to fetch me some more tonkatsu sauce for my dinner. He came back with the entire bottle and some fruit for dessert. Who would have thought he was such a gentleman?
When I tried to thank him he merely growled and hit me with the orange.
June 10. Keigo teased me again about how much he would like to spend lunch alone with me, somewhere he could get to know me a lot better. Ichigo slammed a fist into his face, and then yet another one when Keigo complained that Ichigo just wanted me for himself but was just too chicken. After that Ichigo just stalked off, but his fist was still clenched and the back of his nape was a furious shade of red.
Interesting. I still wonder what chickens have to do with jealousy.
June 17. It was hot when the battle with Grand Fisher started, but started to rain as the afternoon dragged on. When I found him he said: “Hey, what took you so long? I already beat him.”
Idiot. He told me not to interfere. Yet his grin was sardonic despite all the gashes. Blood was flowing down his brow and his cheek. “You thought I was serious?”
So he wanted me to help him? What of his pride? I didn’t understand him at that time. When he finally fell into my arms, I cradled him in my lap and healed him. I used up all the little energy I had in my body and left none for myself.
I couldn’t let him die. I will not let him die.
Wednesday evening. We stood in the crowd waiting for that Don Kanonji person. I told Ichigo to loosen up and relax when I realized his eyes traveled from my feet and focused on my bare legs. When did he start staring at my legs?
At the time, it occurred to me that if he was going to continue contemplating my lower limbs like that, I will be forced to wear longer skirts or those scandalous tight things they call jeans.
July 16. After fighting off the Grand Menos, Ichigo looked at me sitting on the grass. He smirked despite his massive injuries: Tessai did some instant healing before they packed up and vanished. For some reason I could not move even if Urahara had released his binding spell on me. My legs trembled as if I had no control over them.
“What are you doing, just sitting there?” he growled. “Are you waiting for an encore?”
I wanted to hit him but I was too relieved he recovered. I did something stupid: I held out my hands to him silently.
Ichigo was puzzled for a moment. Then he held out his own and pulled me to my feet. His hands were still warm from the fight.
“Let’s go home,” he said. His face lost its confident smirk and lapsed into exhaustion. “I will not take no for an answer.”
It was only then he realized he was still holding my hands in his. He dropped them quickly, as if I had burned him and not the other way around.
Midnight. It was safe to tiptoe out of the room for a glass of water. When I returned, Ichigo had shifted in his sleep, throwing off his sheet. He was wearing pajamas but his muscles were well defined under the cotton. His face was peaceful as he dreamed. There was a crinkle of a smile that escaped the corner of his mouth. His bright hair was tousled and damp. I wished I could curl up into the crevice of his neck and nestle against his smooth cheek, and nibble so softly on his earlobe. It looked so tasty as if it was made of warm caramel.
July 18. I have to leave tonight. I made up my mind. After school I had stopped Ichigo and couldn’t get any words out. I ended up looking at the ground like a fool. He had absolutely no idea what I was trying to say to him. We stood in front of the school entrance, too: such an awkward place for a public display of stupidity.
I needed to leave this boy before it was too late.
The last entry is as follows:
September 7. Captain Hitsugaya is on to me. I just know it. He had that quizzical look on his face when I told them to go ahead to the high school and look for Ichigo because I had something I had to check out first. As if looking for Ichigo wasn’t the first order of the day!
I really just wanted to enter through the classroom window. I learned from Kon that the best entrances are the ones unexpected. The look on Ichigo’s face was priceless. I knew his gaze lingered on my legs and thighs again, but when his eyes met mine I just wanted to dissolve. I wanted to yield and comfort him properly, tell him it wasn’t his fault and that he could finally rest from all of his self-imposed responsibilities.
But I couldn’t. I was sent him to help make him stronger and to push him even harder than before, even if it’s unfair to him. I had to pretend I was unmoved by his conflicting emotions, which others only saw as cowardice. They were all watching me. I could only to do what they expected me to do.
The best thing about that moment was this: I was the only one to see the softness in his eyes, as if I had come to save him from his isolation and his free fall from grace.
Standing behind Ichigo, none of them saw his expression, only mine. It was worth earning the Captain’s suspicion and Rangiku’s teasing. I don’t care if Renji reports my silly behavior to my brother. I don’t regret the stunt at all: the look of relief on his face told me everything I need to know. The way he said my name was fond and gentle, as if he had just cupped my face with a feather-light caress. It confirmed everything I knew all along.
It’s been a long time, Ichigo.
His love was hiding in plain sight.
It was more than enough for her.
On time, pride, and waiting for the right moment.
When I fall in love, I take my time, there’s no need to hurry when I’m making up my mind. - Jason Mraz
You’d let your pride ruin everything, you stupid child! - Yoruichi
31. Ichigo: A Question of Time
Kuchiki Byakuya said I was slow, even to fall.
It was true. I was slow to fall in love with his sister. At first she was an accident, a serendipitous means to save my family and myself. She appeared out of nowhere like a deus ex machina and helped me keep a vow I made after my mother died.
A day later, she was an imposition. I had unwittingly got her into trouble by sucking out all her power. She blackmailed me into doing her job until she recovered. She harassed, threatened, and even occasionally cajoled me into shape.
Somewhere along the way, she became a prerequisite to action. I couldn’t move without her: something Ishida made a point of mockery. Yet Ishida was wrong. I didn’t need her permission to act. I just preferred her to be around. It wasn’t just because she wore the glove that slammed my soul out of my body, either. It was on a much deeper level.
Our working relationship was a well-oiled machine. She made the decisions and I implemented them. It was simple and effective. They say that two heads are better than one: so it was for us. We may have bickered but how many times did I actually get to veto her choice, or think of anything better on my own? Not many. I never admitted outright, at any given time, that she was usually right. I had my pride to save and besides - she would never let me hear the end of it. She was that type of crazy harridan. If she wouldn’t budge an inch, I just had to push back all the same.
Later on, she became a necessity. She slowly ingrained herself into my life until she was like the very air I breathed. Her presence was constant and oddly soothing. I took her granted, like a normal person assumes that he has two hands and feet and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
Her exquisite face was the first one I saw in the morning and the last before I went to sleep. Even in my dreams, my imagination could not escape the very things she introduced to me: Hollows, the mysterious Soul Society, konsos, modified souls.
Later on, I realized I began to fantasize about the physical aspects of her as well: the gloss of her hair, the brilliant amethyst hue of her eyes, the slim taper of her waist, the curves of her hips, the pristine skin of her shapely legs, the neat trim of her ankles. Yet I attempted to push these reminders of her femininity out of my mind.
How she managed to cross the threshold to the fortress of my heart is beyond me. Aloof Kurosaki Ichigo, the scourge of faculty and the terror of neighborhood thugs, is bested by a slip of a Shinigami. She crept in undetected and got under my guard.
I don’t know why she did it. She really didn’t need me, don’t you see. She could have managed all the little things by herself. I knew she must have been a competent officer to receive a mission on her own. But she didn’t. She always acted as if she was helpless without me. It started with a simple juice box and then things escalated from there.
She made it a point that she needed me to bring her meals to my room - our room. She needed help with most of her homework so I ended up studying the same lessons twice in one night. She made it clear she needed me to stand lookout while she took a bath in case my insane father got curious at the sound of running water in the middle of the night. She insisted on jumping on my back as we patrolled the streets at night, seeking out Hollows and lost souls.
More men than women fall in love at first sight. For me it took two months, tops.
Love at first sight of her, every morning, when she slid open her the closet door. Love at last sight of her, every night, when she disappeared from my view to sleep and perchance to dream. Did she ever dream of me?
Two months: then she became my obsession. When she suddenly disappeared from my life, I was lost. I could not look at anything without being haunted by her. Everything I saw or touched screamed her name: Rukia. Rukia. Rukia. I thought I was going to go out of my mind.
At first I thought it felt like I had lost my mother again, but no, the feeling was different. It would be like comparing chrysanthemums to cherry blossoms. With my mother, it was the grief of an abandoned child. With Rukia, the passion that fired within me was that of a man who just realized he was in love, and that his love was going to be sacrificed to satisfy the caprices of twisted justice.
I was slow to admit it to myself. I loathed the idea of being in love with anyone. I kept telling myself and everyone else it was a matter of honor; it was a matter of a debt to be repaid. It was an easy answer to give, and it was one reason many were happy to accept.
I risked dying to become a Shinigami once more. I trained hard and became strong in order to save her. I disrupted the very fabric of Soul Society just for her. If my mentors and my friends still clung to the tenuous belief it was only due to a debt of honor, then they all are bigger fools than me.
Deep within me, I already knew the real truth even if I could not let it break into the surface of my consciousness. Such a strong epiphany would distract me from the task at hand. But Zangetsu caught on faster than I did. He’s the sharpest embodiment of my soul, after all. Zangetsu knew who stopped the rain from falling.
By the time I had snatched her from death, I hoped Rukia realized the truth too, even if I was too dumb and too proud to tell her with words. With our unique relationship, I’m not even sure if words are still needed to define what’s already there.
I know I am still young and that humans measure time differently than Shinigamis do. I know I had all the time in the living world, and in the next, to tell Rukia everything I carry in my soul for her, if she actually needs to hear it. Someday. I need to be a braver man than I currently am to face up to such a confession.
Right now is too soon. But I know it will never be too late.
I am a young man with an enormous amount of foolish pride. I have more than just a Hollow mask - I have a public persona. The scowling, ill-tempered brute that everyone is familiar with is the antithesis of who I really am. I have many secrets. Even my best friends don't know what I am really thinking. I do not like being stripped of my defenses, even by the woman I love unconditionally.
Byakuya said I was slow, even to fall. He did not know how right he was.
-finis-