Fanfic - The Little Things - [Bleach: Ryuuken-centric]
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: None! Ryuuken-centric.
Rating: PG
A/N: Sort-of-vaguely-angsty. Ryuuken reflects on his parenting skills. And a lot more.
The Little Things
He knew the basics of child-care, to his credit. So when his wife had died, he hadn't been left completely foundering. At the very least he'd managed to keep his baby boy alive till he could find a nanny, and then he'd finally been able to get back to his work.
He'd make sure he was home early every night. He always suspected his wife had resented him for the late nights he generally kept. The way he would arrive home at ten, at the earliest, especially when she'd had to put up with the squalling tantrums of the baby, when she had given up her career for a bundle of noise and tears, when he hadn't shown the least amount of support. He'd loved her, of course. She was his wife and it was his duty to love her. But more than the duty that kept him by her side, kept him working to make money, he thought he really loved his little boy.
Then again, he wasn't the one who had had to put up with the tantrums. It was always his wife who got up at night when Uryuu started crying. He would wake at the sound but then go back to sleep, leaving the problem to his wife to take care of. The only time he'd ever gotten up to help was when his wife had discovered Uryuu was running a fever, and they had to go to the doctor's.
So he always suspected his wife resented him for that. Not hated, exactly, but wasn't exactly pleased with his choices. When she died, he felt he owed it to his son to make sure he was home early, that he saw him and tucked him into bed every night. Uryuu was just going on three by then, but at least he didn't cry any longer. He hadn't since his mother had died.
It made his job easier, especially since it still fell to the nanny he'd hired to potty-train his boy, to teach him manners and so on.
Once Uryuu started growing up a little, he began to return to his old habit of staying later at work. He didn't realise he was doing it at first - there would be some urgent forms he needed to approve, or a meeting he needed to organise, or something else which none of his subordinates could do. So he'd stay a little longer and get back home at nine and find Uryuu had already been tucked into bed. But it didn't matter as much, because Uryuu was already four, and at that age, it wasn't likely he needed such care; he was capable of taking care of himself.
When Uryuu's nanny had quit, he'd turned the care of the child over to his own father, not without trepidation. This was the man who still "worked" as a Quincy, who refused to let go of the old ways despite their lack of relevance in the modern world. He was afraid - afraid that Uryuu would learn from him and entertain fancies of becoming a Quincy too. Uryuu had the potential, after all. He had chosen to go the practical path, but the power of the Quincy still lay dormant in him.
Uryuu was about five when he'd asked his father to take care of him. That was also when he'd completely reverted to his old ways, coming home after midnight on some days. It was just that this time, it didn't matter, because Uryuu wasn't there to have missed being tucked in anyway.
He tried to make time to visit Uryuu sometimes. As often as his schedule would allow it, in fact. His office was far from the secluded home that his father had, but he'd make the trip during any breaks which left him enough time. It was just that... as he'd immersed himself in his work, those breaks grew less and less frequent, and eventually they'd ceased.
He'd long suspected his wife had resented him. Now he began to suspect that perhaps, Uryuu might too. He was never there, after all, the quintessential absent father. And to his horror, Uryuu had begun training to be a Quincy. At least his son hadn't forsaken school, but what could he possibly hope to achieve as a Quincy? He'd become even more distant from Uryuu at the thought, not wanting to deprive his son of something he enjoyed, but unable to tolerate it. So he receded from Uryuu's memory, until there was only a vague outline of a man he might biologically call "father."
Uryuu couldn't remember what his father looked like. His father's most recent image of Uryuu was as a ten-year-old.
And yet, somehow he'd known him when he'd seen him that day. He hadn't intended to go visit him, had actually planned on attending a conference. Somehow, he had ended up walking through the streets, walking past Uryuu's school, looking at it for the first time and wondering which class Uryuu was in.
Then he'd seen him, and he'd been shocked by the sight. Uryuu - his Uryuu - was under attack by a Hollow, and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop it. Instinct had taken over and he'd killed the Hollow himself, only realising when Uryuu had turned to him that there was no hint of power in him.
Uryuu had lost his power. His power as a Quincy, which defined him. He couldn't believe it, couldn't stand it. Neither could he stand the brief look of incomprehension that had crossed Uryuu's eyes when he had seen him.
Then he had sensed the stench of the Shinigami about his son. He'd known, somehow, that the Shinigami were related to Uryuu's loss of his power. The long-suppressed hatred for them had grown at that thought.
It was that hatred that prompted him to make his offer. He could never follow a Quincy way of life, but it was something he knew was important to Uryuu, and something he could give back to the teen. So he offered it on condition that Uryuu never associate with Shinigami again. This time his power - next time? He couldn't take the risk that Uryuu die, couldn't afford to have that death hanging on his conscience too.
Still, as he'd seen the brief look of anguish in Uryuu's face, he'd wondered if he was making another mistake in rearing his child.
But at least he'd recognised the pain in Uryuu's face. That was to his credit.
~fin
R&R!!
Pairing: None! Ryuuken-centric.
Rating: PG
A/N: Sort-of-vaguely-angsty. Ryuuken reflects on his parenting skills. And a lot more.
The Little Things
He knew the basics of child-care, to his credit. So when his wife had died, he hadn't been left completely foundering. At the very least he'd managed to keep his baby boy alive till he could find a nanny, and then he'd finally been able to get back to his work.
He'd make sure he was home early every night. He always suspected his wife had resented him for the late nights he generally kept. The way he would arrive home at ten, at the earliest, especially when she'd had to put up with the squalling tantrums of the baby, when she had given up her career for a bundle of noise and tears, when he hadn't shown the least amount of support. He'd loved her, of course. She was his wife and it was his duty to love her. But more than the duty that kept him by her side, kept him working to make money, he thought he really loved his little boy.
Then again, he wasn't the one who had had to put up with the tantrums. It was always his wife who got up at night when Uryuu started crying. He would wake at the sound but then go back to sleep, leaving the problem to his wife to take care of. The only time he'd ever gotten up to help was when his wife had discovered Uryuu was running a fever, and they had to go to the doctor's.
So he always suspected his wife resented him for that. Not hated, exactly, but wasn't exactly pleased with his choices. When she died, he felt he owed it to his son to make sure he was home early, that he saw him and tucked him into bed every night. Uryuu was just going on three by then, but at least he didn't cry any longer. He hadn't since his mother had died.
It made his job easier, especially since it still fell to the nanny he'd hired to potty-train his boy, to teach him manners and so on.
Once Uryuu started growing up a little, he began to return to his old habit of staying later at work. He didn't realise he was doing it at first - there would be some urgent forms he needed to approve, or a meeting he needed to organise, or something else which none of his subordinates could do. So he'd stay a little longer and get back home at nine and find Uryuu had already been tucked into bed. But it didn't matter as much, because Uryuu was already four, and at that age, it wasn't likely he needed such care; he was capable of taking care of himself.
When Uryuu's nanny had quit, he'd turned the care of the child over to his own father, not without trepidation. This was the man who still "worked" as a Quincy, who refused to let go of the old ways despite their lack of relevance in the modern world. He was afraid - afraid that Uryuu would learn from him and entertain fancies of becoming a Quincy too. Uryuu had the potential, after all. He had chosen to go the practical path, but the power of the Quincy still lay dormant in him.
Uryuu was about five when he'd asked his father to take care of him. That was also when he'd completely reverted to his old ways, coming home after midnight on some days. It was just that this time, it didn't matter, because Uryuu wasn't there to have missed being tucked in anyway.
He tried to make time to visit Uryuu sometimes. As often as his schedule would allow it, in fact. His office was far from the secluded home that his father had, but he'd make the trip during any breaks which left him enough time. It was just that... as he'd immersed himself in his work, those breaks grew less and less frequent, and eventually they'd ceased.
He'd long suspected his wife had resented him. Now he began to suspect that perhaps, Uryuu might too. He was never there, after all, the quintessential absent father. And to his horror, Uryuu had begun training to be a Quincy. At least his son hadn't forsaken school, but what could he possibly hope to achieve as a Quincy? He'd become even more distant from Uryuu at the thought, not wanting to deprive his son of something he enjoyed, but unable to tolerate it. So he receded from Uryuu's memory, until there was only a vague outline of a man he might biologically call "father."
Uryuu couldn't remember what his father looked like. His father's most recent image of Uryuu was as a ten-year-old.
And yet, somehow he'd known him when he'd seen him that day. He hadn't intended to go visit him, had actually planned on attending a conference. Somehow, he had ended up walking through the streets, walking past Uryuu's school, looking at it for the first time and wondering which class Uryuu was in.
Then he'd seen him, and he'd been shocked by the sight. Uryuu - his Uryuu - was under attack by a Hollow, and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop it. Instinct had taken over and he'd killed the Hollow himself, only realising when Uryuu had turned to him that there was no hint of power in him.
Uryuu had lost his power. His power as a Quincy, which defined him. He couldn't believe it, couldn't stand it. Neither could he stand the brief look of incomprehension that had crossed Uryuu's eyes when he had seen him.
Then he had sensed the stench of the Shinigami about his son. He'd known, somehow, that the Shinigami were related to Uryuu's loss of his power. The long-suppressed hatred for them had grown at that thought.
It was that hatred that prompted him to make his offer. He could never follow a Quincy way of life, but it was something he knew was important to Uryuu, and something he could give back to the teen. So he offered it on condition that Uryuu never associate with Shinigami again. This time his power - next time? He couldn't take the risk that Uryuu die, couldn't afford to have that death hanging on his conscience too.
Still, as he'd seen the brief look of anguish in Uryuu's face, he'd wondered if he was making another mistake in rearing his child.
But at least he'd recognised the pain in Uryuu's face. That was to his credit.
~fin
R&R!!