[Fanfiction] Black Dream
Black Dream
Author: shizuyuki (@ shizuyume)
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Ichigo x Rukia
Rating: PG
Black Dream
trail of dust
& Set after the Bleach fiasco is somewhat over (Ichigo actually goes back to having a somewhat peaceful life, Rukia is back in Division 13, the Gotei 13 is more or less stable, etc.). I would imagine this to be set about 5 - 10 years after mentioned fiasco, when the serving generation can still remember clearly and it isn't "ancient history".
& Believe it or not, I started writing this in October 2005. Fear my lack of determination to complete fics.
& The two parts of this are connected - it may however be read as two separate parts.
As a sudden wind blows across the Kuchiki courtyard, the lights in the corridor room flicker. The steady dark silhouette on the wall is rendered distorted, and the shadows cast onto the paper which Kuchiki Rukia writes on contort themselves into twists, as though they are strangling her delicate calligraphy.
She puts down her brush and lays her head in her hands, listening to the sound of rain. In the warmth of her room the rain is strangely dissonant, and she can only hear a constant, soothing spray falling.
Nonetheless, the sound of rain presents a familiar tune to her ears. Rukia can vaguely hear patterns as droplets fall, and she wonders if anyone else like her, observes the melody of rain. It is like art - rain is after all personified to be the voice of Heaven (Rukia finds this a cruel irony, considering that she already rests in Heaven), and it takes a patient mind to read the emotions of one that far up.
There is a contrasting scenario beneath.
The temperature in Karakura falls drastically in a few days, just between autumn and winter. The people enjoy picking up a quaint leaf from the street, admire its sheer redness, a beautiful flash of colour before dropping. They huddle together in the subway, a reflex action of protection against the cold, but everything else is the same. The train whizzes past in the same systematic manner as it would in spring or summer, picking up passengers, the familiar female Japanese voice still announcing arrivals over the PA system.
At night the temperature drops further, and even the thick-downed migratory birds hide in the trees to rest. It is possible to hear the leaves shaking as the wind blows, as though shivering.
Ichigo sits in his pleasantly heated room, the doors locked as to prevent intrusion. He is hunched over a Physics textbook, muttering formulae incoherently to himself before he keys a number into his calculator. There is something wrong with the value - it does not correspond with common sense or logic. The boy rubs his eyes and sighs, looking out of the window.
The street lights are dimmer than usual today and he can see the night sky clearly. Staring above, he tries to spot the constellations, but Ichigo is never someone who observes such details, and he cannot identify the quaint formation of the stars. He is about to look away when a flash of light flickers throughout the curtain of black.
Ichigo first thinks that it is a trail of butterfly dust, before he realizes that it is a rare shooting star.
You say a mark
Of comet hara-kiri through the dark
Should inflame the sleeping town.
- From "Love is a Parallax" by Sylvia Plath
She visits Karakura a few years after you sight the meteor.
This time, she does not sift through your window in the same style as she did the first time. Before, you watched incredulously as she trailed through the window, the cloth of her robes following in a sweep of black, shocked and confused at this anonymous entity that suddenly entered into your house. Of course, you had no idea then that she would proceed to change your life.
You lie in bed, on the verge of falling asleep when she steps openly through the window. The look on your face is pleasant surprise, and she grins at you rather uncharacteristically when she sees you. Kon jumps from his desk table, and the ruckus that he makes is annoying (as usual). Rukia watches the both of you, souls belonging to a different world, and sits down on your study table, examining your notes.
Tonight you are too tired to get up and say hello, so you simply lie in bed as she studies your room with interest. The relationship between the both of you has already progressed to such intense familiarity, even without the presence of each other, that no one blames each other for the lack of formality.
A cloud moves over the moon, momentarily blocking its yellow light.
How very beautiful, you think to yourself, and how very reminiscent this scene was. That night Urahara Kisuke sat languidly on your window, waiting for you to pop into shingami form with your untrained Zangetsu. The moon was shining when Kuchiki Byakuya slashed your side in an almost fatal injury. The clouds were flowing when the butterflies led them to the traveling gates, and you saw her petite form step through into a light so blindingly bright in comparison to the mellow black of your surroundings.
"I hope to be seated," Rukia says casually, after you have closed your eyes. She tells you about how Ukitake and Byakuya have finally mentioned that she may be promoted. It does not surprise you, but you simply rise in the presumptuous air of yours and frown, teasing her for her weakness of taking so long.
She scowls, and counters that not everyone has the same talent as you.
By then you have already swallowed your words, and you realize that the space between both of you is quaint, strange and mysterious. How is Soul Society now, you ask in a half-joking tone, expecting her to feed you the progression of the various divisions. A wane smile crosses her cheeks and she tells you a long story about flowers and snow, grass and rain. It is a strange thing to talk about, but Soul Society has been racked by chaos ever since the incident both of you know too well about.
But Soul Society is just a higher community filled with a hidden pain that both of you keep silent about, because what else can both of you do except guard it?
You ask her when she is leaving, and she says later tonight.
That means tomorrow, nobody will remember a girl who sifted between the streets of Karakura, her violet eyes reflecting the iridescence of the moon. She will only be a shinigami, drifting like a lost identity from one area to another, fulfilling the task which all these elite souls have chosen to undertake. The Kurosaki family may or may not have seen her, but for your sake they will pretend not to have noticed.
Isshin will emerge in his liveliness and eccentricity, and Karin will greet you, bored, shaking her head at the dynamics which you father and son will have. Yuzu will bring down the breakfast and greet you with her cheerful, caring "Ichi-nii", beaming in the small apron that was passed down from your late mother. Your eyes will catch the sun's first rays, and when you walk to the garden your skin will feel the cool dew that has condensed upon the grass. There is something different to your expression when you recall the incidents of today.
The owls flap overhead, and the silhouette of the moon shines bright and illuminating in the deep throat of the night sky. Your eyes struggle to open as you watch her form drift to your cupboards and pull out a familiar set of pyjamas - a set that Yuzu cried over because it was her favourite, and she never found it in her cupboard again.
You dream of a black butterfly and an orange star.
Additional Notes:
& Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
should inflame the sleeping town.
This is an excerpt from Love is a Parallax from Sylvia Plath, and somehow or rather I find it very fitting to the entire IchiRuki relationship, both from Ichigo and Rukia's point of view.
& I have to say that I am personally not very pleased by this, but -
& All comments are greatly appreciated.
I need to do my homework asjdalsdkgwe;.
Author: shizuyuki (@ shizuyume)
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Ichigo x Rukia
Rating: PG
Black Dream
trail of dust
& Set after the Bleach fiasco is somewhat over (Ichigo actually goes back to having a somewhat peaceful life, Rukia is back in Division 13, the Gotei 13 is more or less stable, etc.). I would imagine this to be set about 5 - 10 years after mentioned fiasco, when the serving generation can still remember clearly and it isn't "ancient history".
& Believe it or not, I started writing this in October 2005. Fear my lack of determination to complete fics.
& The two parts of this are connected - it may however be read as two separate parts.
As a sudden wind blows across the Kuchiki courtyard, the lights in the corridor room flicker. The steady dark silhouette on the wall is rendered distorted, and the shadows cast onto the paper which Kuchiki Rukia writes on contort themselves into twists, as though they are strangling her delicate calligraphy.
She puts down her brush and lays her head in her hands, listening to the sound of rain. In the warmth of her room the rain is strangely dissonant, and she can only hear a constant, soothing spray falling.
Nonetheless, the sound of rain presents a familiar tune to her ears. Rukia can vaguely hear patterns as droplets fall, and she wonders if anyone else like her, observes the melody of rain. It is like art - rain is after all personified to be the voice of Heaven (Rukia finds this a cruel irony, considering that she already rests in Heaven), and it takes a patient mind to read the emotions of one that far up.
There is a contrasting scenario beneath.
The temperature in Karakura falls drastically in a few days, just between autumn and winter. The people enjoy picking up a quaint leaf from the street, admire its sheer redness, a beautiful flash of colour before dropping. They huddle together in the subway, a reflex action of protection against the cold, but everything else is the same. The train whizzes past in the same systematic manner as it would in spring or summer, picking up passengers, the familiar female Japanese voice still announcing arrivals over the PA system.
At night the temperature drops further, and even the thick-downed migratory birds hide in the trees to rest. It is possible to hear the leaves shaking as the wind blows, as though shivering.
Ichigo sits in his pleasantly heated room, the doors locked as to prevent intrusion. He is hunched over a Physics textbook, muttering formulae incoherently to himself before he keys a number into his calculator. There is something wrong with the value - it does not correspond with common sense or logic. The boy rubs his eyes and sighs, looking out of the window.
The street lights are dimmer than usual today and he can see the night sky clearly. Staring above, he tries to spot the constellations, but Ichigo is never someone who observes such details, and he cannot identify the quaint formation of the stars. He is about to look away when a flash of light flickers throughout the curtain of black.
Ichigo first thinks that it is a trail of butterfly dust, before he realizes that it is a rare shooting star.
You say a mark
Of comet hara-kiri through the dark
Should inflame the sleeping town.
- From "Love is a Parallax" by Sylvia Plath
She visits Karakura a few years after you sight the meteor.
This time, she does not sift through your window in the same style as she did the first time. Before, you watched incredulously as she trailed through the window, the cloth of her robes following in a sweep of black, shocked and confused at this anonymous entity that suddenly entered into your house. Of course, you had no idea then that she would proceed to change your life.
You lie in bed, on the verge of falling asleep when she steps openly through the window. The look on your face is pleasant surprise, and she grins at you rather uncharacteristically when she sees you. Kon jumps from his desk table, and the ruckus that he makes is annoying (as usual). Rukia watches the both of you, souls belonging to a different world, and sits down on your study table, examining your notes.
Tonight you are too tired to get up and say hello, so you simply lie in bed as she studies your room with interest. The relationship between the both of you has already progressed to such intense familiarity, even without the presence of each other, that no one blames each other for the lack of formality.
A cloud moves over the moon, momentarily blocking its yellow light.
How very beautiful, you think to yourself, and how very reminiscent this scene was. That night Urahara Kisuke sat languidly on your window, waiting for you to pop into shingami form with your untrained Zangetsu. The moon was shining when Kuchiki Byakuya slashed your side in an almost fatal injury. The clouds were flowing when the butterflies led them to the traveling gates, and you saw her petite form step through into a light so blindingly bright in comparison to the mellow black of your surroundings.
"I hope to be seated," Rukia says casually, after you have closed your eyes. She tells you about how Ukitake and Byakuya have finally mentioned that she may be promoted. It does not surprise you, but you simply rise in the presumptuous air of yours and frown, teasing her for her weakness of taking so long.
She scowls, and counters that not everyone has the same talent as you.
By then you have already swallowed your words, and you realize that the space between both of you is quaint, strange and mysterious. How is Soul Society now, you ask in a half-joking tone, expecting her to feed you the progression of the various divisions. A wane smile crosses her cheeks and she tells you a long story about flowers and snow, grass and rain. It is a strange thing to talk about, but Soul Society has been racked by chaos ever since the incident both of you know too well about.
But Soul Society is just a higher community filled with a hidden pain that both of you keep silent about, because what else can both of you do except guard it?
You ask her when she is leaving, and she says later tonight.
That means tomorrow, nobody will remember a girl who sifted between the streets of Karakura, her violet eyes reflecting the iridescence of the moon. She will only be a shinigami, drifting like a lost identity from one area to another, fulfilling the task which all these elite souls have chosen to undertake. The Kurosaki family may or may not have seen her, but for your sake they will pretend not to have noticed.
Isshin will emerge in his liveliness and eccentricity, and Karin will greet you, bored, shaking her head at the dynamics which you father and son will have. Yuzu will bring down the breakfast and greet you with her cheerful, caring "Ichi-nii", beaming in the small apron that was passed down from your late mother. Your eyes will catch the sun's first rays, and when you walk to the garden your skin will feel the cool dew that has condensed upon the grass. There is something different to your expression when you recall the incidents of today.
The owls flap overhead, and the silhouette of the moon shines bright and illuminating in the deep throat of the night sky. Your eyes struggle to open as you watch her form drift to your cupboards and pull out a familiar set of pyjamas - a set that Yuzu cried over because it was her favourite, and she never found it in her cupboard again.
You dream of a black butterfly and an orange star.
Additional Notes:
& Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
should inflame the sleeping town.
This is an excerpt from Love is a Parallax from Sylvia Plath, and somehow or rather I find it very fitting to the entire IchiRuki relationship, both from Ichigo and Rukia's point of view.
& I have to say that I am personally not very pleased by this, but -
& All comments are greatly appreciated.
I need to do my homework asjdalsdkgwe;.