What's Past Is Prologue [Bleach]
Title: What's Past Is Prologue
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Masaki, with mentions of Masaki/Isshin.
Length: c. 1,100 words
Notes: This is based on a wild theory of mine, and will likely be rendered very, very AU at some point. Originally posted at halfamoon
Summary: There was far more to Masaki's death--and her life--than Ichigo ever knew.
It couldn't end like this.
Masaki ran, ran as hard as she could, but Ichigo was just so fast.
If things had been different, she would have swept him up and taken off into the skies, running on the air itself and carrying him far, far away from the monster that had lured him in.
Now, all she could do--all she was able to do--was put her own body and her own life between her son and harm. He slipped on the rain-slick grass, and it slowed him down enough for her to catch him in a flying tackle. Ichigo yelled in surprise and pain, and it took every bit of Masaki's will for her not to twist and take the brunt of the fall. That would only expose Ichigo to more danger, but that didn't stop her from picturing in a horrible flash all the injured children who had come into the clinic over the years, all those fragile bones and all the ways her weight could crush her son beneath her.
She prayed this would work. They could both die, or the Hollow would feast to satiety on her soul and leave Ichigo alone.
(Or maybe Isshin would sense something was wrong and come find them. Or maybe Urahara would, or Yoruichi...)
Ichigo's body was warm and unmoving beneath hers.
"Oh, Ichigo... My baby..."
His eyes had rolled back to white and Masaki was shaking so hard she didn't know if what she felt was his breath or just her own fear-wracked panting.
She only had seconds, now. Masaki kept her eyes on Ichigo's face, looking for any sign that she had killed her son in trying to save him. She didn't see anything, but she felt the feather-warmth of her son's breath on her face just before the Hollow ripped through her spine.
It shouldn't have ended like this. Ichigo should have been carried home, safe in her arms and in his ignorance of what had nearly happened to him. Isshin would have hauled Ichigo up to bath and bed, merrily pretending nothing was wrong and that there was no such thing as monsters who would hunt and prey on special children... or their special parents.
In the morning, she and Isshin would have tracked the monster. It had been a decade and a half since they hunted together, but they would have taken it up again as if they'd never left, as if there weren't people waiting and watching for her to make a slip.
Nothing would have gone wrong. Isshin would have killed it, and would have given her all the credit--just like always. It was her power, he would have insisted. Her knowledge. Her love that inspired him. He would have danced her around, telling her how lucky he was that she had fallen into his life, and she was worth every single monster he had to fight. A dozen monsters. A million monsters.
But Masaki was dead and there was no more time for might-have-beens. Her spirit twisted free of her body and it was time to run again.
Her body stayed behind, still protecting Ichigo, even now.
She was tempted to run with all her old speed, to dodge with all her old skill, but she had to be easy prey, a tempting target that would draw the Hollow away from Ichigo. She would die a second time if she had to. A permanent death, yes, but worth it if her son could live.
Her only regret would be that she would not be able to say goodbye to her husband. To her children.
She ran, and the Hollow gave chase. Her hand closed around the hilt of a sword that wasn't there, but that was the only thing that betrayed that she wasn't just some scared human. She kept her reiatsu at bay, wondering what the return of her power meant for Isshin.
If it did mean something, he would find a way to survive without the power she had given to him. Without her.
She had been severely wounded by a powerful Hollow. Insanely powerful. More powerful than a Menos Grande. Almost human looking, and capable of hiding its reiatsu until it was on top of her. She had never seen or heard of anything like it before.
He would have to live without a goodbye, without any explanation of what had happened out by the river, out in the rain.
She wasn't even able to release her shikai. She would die here, on her unauthorized and self-appointed mission, unable to explain what had really happened to her friends and fellow captains eighty years ago.
She hoped Isshin wouldn't do something stupid out of vengeance and grief.
Finally, she had what she needed to prove that it was Aizen, and not Urahara who had corrupted Hirako-taichou and the others, but she would not be able to do anything with that proof. It would all end here.
At least Ichigo's life wouldn't end here. Isshin would have no choice but to live on for his sake. For Ichigo and Karin and Yuzu.
In a desperate gamble, she begged the handsome young passer-by to take her power, to fall on her sword and take it up in the same moment. It was a crime, but the evidence of a greater crime could not be allowed to die with her.
Her family would live, even if she would never see them again. The Hollow drew nearer, and for a moment, Masaki thought about escape and the possibility of seeing them in another life, but she had to keep Ichigo safe...
She had expected to die. She had not expected to lose all her power. She had not expected to fall in love. Instead of a dishonorable death or a miserable existence, she found a life and a joy she had never dreamed of or looked for. Sometimes, she nearly forgot her old life, although that life was measured in centuries and this one in decades.
They were halfway across the city, now. That had to be far enough. Her job was done.
Almost.
She could not outrun the Hollow forever, and she had not regained enough power to fight it and hope to win.
She turned. The Hollow stopped, and studied her with hungry curiosity.
Masaki had already died once as a mother protecting her child. Now it was time for her to die again, as a shinigami and former captain of the Gotei 13 facing her last foe with honor.
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Masaki, with mentions of Masaki/Isshin.
Length: c. 1,100 words
Notes: This is based on a wild theory of mine, and will likely be rendered very, very AU at some point. Originally posted at halfamoon
Summary: There was far more to Masaki's death--and her life--than Ichigo ever knew.
It couldn't end like this.
Masaki ran, ran as hard as she could, but Ichigo was just so fast.
If things had been different, she would have swept him up and taken off into the skies, running on the air itself and carrying him far, far away from the monster that had lured him in.
Now, all she could do--all she was able to do--was put her own body and her own life between her son and harm. He slipped on the rain-slick grass, and it slowed him down enough for her to catch him in a flying tackle. Ichigo yelled in surprise and pain, and it took every bit of Masaki's will for her not to twist and take the brunt of the fall. That would only expose Ichigo to more danger, but that didn't stop her from picturing in a horrible flash all the injured children who had come into the clinic over the years, all those fragile bones and all the ways her weight could crush her son beneath her.
She prayed this would work. They could both die, or the Hollow would feast to satiety on her soul and leave Ichigo alone.
(Or maybe Isshin would sense something was wrong and come find them. Or maybe Urahara would, or Yoruichi...)
Ichigo's body was warm and unmoving beneath hers.
"Oh, Ichigo... My baby..."
His eyes had rolled back to white and Masaki was shaking so hard she didn't know if what she felt was his breath or just her own fear-wracked panting.
She only had seconds, now. Masaki kept her eyes on Ichigo's face, looking for any sign that she had killed her son in trying to save him. She didn't see anything, but she felt the feather-warmth of her son's breath on her face just before the Hollow ripped through her spine.
It shouldn't have ended like this. Ichigo should have been carried home, safe in her arms and in his ignorance of what had nearly happened to him. Isshin would have hauled Ichigo up to bath and bed, merrily pretending nothing was wrong and that there was no such thing as monsters who would hunt and prey on special children... or their special parents.
In the morning, she and Isshin would have tracked the monster. It had been a decade and a half since they hunted together, but they would have taken it up again as if they'd never left, as if there weren't people waiting and watching for her to make a slip.
Nothing would have gone wrong. Isshin would have killed it, and would have given her all the credit--just like always. It was her power, he would have insisted. Her knowledge. Her love that inspired him. He would have danced her around, telling her how lucky he was that she had fallen into his life, and she was worth every single monster he had to fight. A dozen monsters. A million monsters.
But Masaki was dead and there was no more time for might-have-beens. Her spirit twisted free of her body and it was time to run again.
Her body stayed behind, still protecting Ichigo, even now.
She was tempted to run with all her old speed, to dodge with all her old skill, but she had to be easy prey, a tempting target that would draw the Hollow away from Ichigo. She would die a second time if she had to. A permanent death, yes, but worth it if her son could live.
Her only regret would be that she would not be able to say goodbye to her husband. To her children.
She ran, and the Hollow gave chase. Her hand closed around the hilt of a sword that wasn't there, but that was the only thing that betrayed that she wasn't just some scared human. She kept her reiatsu at bay, wondering what the return of her power meant for Isshin.
If it did mean something, he would find a way to survive without the power she had given to him. Without her.
She had been severely wounded by a powerful Hollow. Insanely powerful. More powerful than a Menos Grande. Almost human looking, and capable of hiding its reiatsu until it was on top of her. She had never seen or heard of anything like it before.
He would have to live without a goodbye, without any explanation of what had happened out by the river, out in the rain.
She wasn't even able to release her shikai. She would die here, on her unauthorized and self-appointed mission, unable to explain what had really happened to her friends and fellow captains eighty years ago.
She hoped Isshin wouldn't do something stupid out of vengeance and grief.
Finally, she had what she needed to prove that it was Aizen, and not Urahara who had corrupted Hirako-taichou and the others, but she would not be able to do anything with that proof. It would all end here.
At least Ichigo's life wouldn't end here. Isshin would have no choice but to live on for his sake. For Ichigo and Karin and Yuzu.
In a desperate gamble, she begged the handsome young passer-by to take her power, to fall on her sword and take it up in the same moment. It was a crime, but the evidence of a greater crime could not be allowed to die with her.
Her family would live, even if she would never see them again. The Hollow drew nearer, and for a moment, Masaki thought about escape and the possibility of seeing them in another life, but she had to keep Ichigo safe...
She had expected to die. She had not expected to lose all her power. She had not expected to fall in love. Instead of a dishonorable death or a miserable existence, she found a life and a joy she had never dreamed of or looked for. Sometimes, she nearly forgot her old life, although that life was measured in centuries and this one in decades.
They were halfway across the city, now. That had to be far enough. Her job was done.
Almost.
She could not outrun the Hollow forever, and she had not regained enough power to fight it and hope to win.
She turned. The Hollow stopped, and studied her with hungry curiosity.
Masaki had already died once as a mother protecting her child. Now it was time for her to die again, as a shinigami and former captain of the Gotei 13 facing her last foe with honor.