[Bleach] Gilgamesh [Hanatarou, Ichigo, Rukia]
Title: Gilgamesh
Author: Bri
Characters/Pairings: Hanatarou, Ichigo, Rukia
Rating: K
Word Count: 266
Notes: Requested by Soggy PB&J. From the August 28, 2005 prompt for 31_days .
Summary: He would make his name mean something.
He swept the floor of the cell quietly, not daring to look up at the woman sitting in the chair. Sometimes she told him stories, and he liked to listen; they seemed to make her happy and sad. He lingered over his chores longer than necessary, hanging on her words before shuffling away nervously when Abarai-fukutaichou came to visit.
She always spoke kindly to him, even though he was insignificant, even though her smile didn't reach her eyes. He felt a little less small once he had seen her, and that was something all the bullying, all the menial labor couldn't diminish. When he met Ichigo he was a little frightened by how big he and his world had suddenly become.
He watched Ichigo fight, eyes wide with awe because he could never ever do things like that with a blade, not any more than he could be that fearless or noble. This was the man Kuchiki-san had spoken of, and he didn't feel sorry at all. Ichigo was tall, proud, shining black; it was fitting; they had the same look: determined, lost, hard and full.
He wasn't content to watch them hurt, he thought, reaching for his pack. He healed everything; it had been the biggest day in a long while. He turned Hisagomaru over in his hands. There wasn't much else they could do besides healing, he was empty. He couldn't beat the bad guys or save the girl, he was a sidekick of bandages and medicine, sewers and sweeping. Maybe if he could help reunite them, he could be a real hero too.
Author: Bri
Characters/Pairings: Hanatarou, Ichigo, Rukia
Rating: K
Word Count: 266
Notes: Requested by Soggy PB&J. From the August 28, 2005 prompt for 31_days .
Summary: He would make his name mean something.
He swept the floor of the cell quietly, not daring to look up at the woman sitting in the chair. Sometimes she told him stories, and he liked to listen; they seemed to make her happy and sad. He lingered over his chores longer than necessary, hanging on her words before shuffling away nervously when Abarai-fukutaichou came to visit.
She always spoke kindly to him, even though he was insignificant, even though her smile didn't reach her eyes. He felt a little less small once he had seen her, and that was something all the bullying, all the menial labor couldn't diminish. When he met Ichigo he was a little frightened by how big he and his world had suddenly become.
He watched Ichigo fight, eyes wide with awe because he could never ever do things like that with a blade, not any more than he could be that fearless or noble. This was the man Kuchiki-san had spoken of, and he didn't feel sorry at all. Ichigo was tall, proud, shining black; it was fitting; they had the same look: determined, lost, hard and full.
He wasn't content to watch them hurt, he thought, reaching for his pack. He healed everything; it had been the biggest day in a long while. He turned Hisagomaru over in his hands. There wasn't much else they could do besides healing, he was empty. He couldn't beat the bad guys or save the girl, he was a sidekick of bandages and medicine, sewers and sweeping. Maybe if he could help reunite them, he could be a real hero too.