NaNoWriMo Update & Fic
Novel is finished! The first draft came in at 57,610 words, and is tucked away in a folder on my computer to let it stew in the back of my brain for awhile before I start revising after the holidays.
In the meantime, I have brought fic to celebrate. ^_^
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.
Consequences
by: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl
A/N: Every decision has a consequence, as Ichigo has learned since becoming a shinigami. Some consequences, however, can be unforeseen and surprising.
0o0o0o0o0o
“I’m sorry, Ichigo. You’re dying.”
Staring at Urahara, Ichigo could only splutter a response. “I…you…what?”
The shopkeeper sat down heavily across from him. He tilted back the ubiquitous green-and-white striped hat that he’d worn as long as the substitute Soul Reaper had known him. While the older man could lie to your face without blinking, the more important lies were told with the brim of his hat shading his blue eyes. He repeated himself, continuing, “I thought we had a little more time, but it seems yours is running out.”
Staring open-mouthed at his mentor, the words began to sink in. “You knew. You were expecting it. And just like always, you didn’t bother to tell me something I need to know. I’m not 15 anymore, Geta-boushi. I can handle the truth.”
“No, you’re definitely an adult now. One who’s already carried the weight of the world on your shoulders instead of growing up like a normal kid. I know all that, Ichigo.” Urahara busied himself making tea for them both. “Which is why I kept it from you. It was time you lived for yourself. Instead of for everyone else for a change.”
The vehemence of the scientist’s quiet words deflated much of Ichigo’s anger at the blond. “So…I’m just not going to wake up one morning?”
“Come now, Kurosaki-kun,” chided the former captain. “You, of all people, know what happens after death.”
“After, yeah. But I’m only 23. And up until now, I thought I was pretty damn healthy.” Ichigo shrugged his broad shoulders. Once the war ended and things had calmed down, the former ryoka finished “growing up.” Only an inch shorter than Renji, he was just as muscular has his frequent sparring partner. “There’s going to be an autopsy, no matter what. People my age don’t just drop dead.”
The orange-haired young man was remarkably calm for someone who had just received a death sentence. Urahara supposed that was because he’d not only seen spirits for his entire life, but he was already a substitute Soul Reaper. Hard to be worried about death when you’d already spent as much time in Soul Society as Ichigo had.
“It will be taken care of,” soothed the blond. “Your body will not be harmed.”
Looking skeptically at Urahara, the substitute shinigami asked a few more questions. “What about my family? My friends?”
“Your father already knows,” admitted the scientist, looking a bit sheepish behind the fan that suddenly appeared in his hand. “I assume you will explain to your nakama before your time comes. As to your sisters…I suggest you and Isshin decide what to tell them. Karin-chan will probably need to be, ah, finessed. Her powers are nearly as strong as your own now; she’ll probably see you afterwards.”
Ichigo felt as if a great yawning pit had just opened beneath his feet. “Shit…you told Goat-Face already? Whose life is this, anyway?”
Smiling wryly, Urahara acknowledged the jibe. “He’s known almost as long as I have that this was coming. Isshin agreed that it would be best to not burden you with it, so you could have a normal life for however long that would last.”
“Urahara-san…Kisuke. How long have you known I was going to die?”
“Why, ever since you asked me to help you get your shinigami powers back. The moment you accepted my training, you sealed your fate.”
The light, almost negligent tone to the blond’s voice stood out in stark contrast to his words, taking Ichigo aback. The scientist’s blue eyes were shrewd and watchful, gauging the reaction to his words. Always an open book emotionally, the substitute Soul Reaper didn’t bother to hide his anger and sense of betrayal. “Just like that, huh? It was that easy to decide to send me to my death?”
“Of course it was,” agreed the former captain. He calmly took a sip of tea. “You brought it on yourself, after all. You were never supposed to face Byakuya-kun at that stage of your development. For that matter, you weren’t expected to run into any seated officers yet - not even Freeloader-san. But you are Isshin’s son; it should have been expected.”
“I thought you were on my side,” muttered the former ryoka, running a hand through orange-spiked hair. He looked away from his teacher. “It doesn’t bother you at all?”
“It does, and I am, to answer your questions backwards.” Urahara placed his teacup on the table, pushing it a bit away from him. “Despite my poking fun at you over the years, you are my favorite student. And I’m not just talking of my time here in the living world, but of my entire existence. One thing you must understand, however, is that not only pawns are sacrificed.”
Ichigo frowned, trying to make sense of that statement. “Huh?”
The scientist chuckled softly. “Think of the Aizen incident as a chess game of astronomical proportions and importance. In chess, pawns are always sacrificed for strategic gains - sometimes happening much later in the game. Occasionally, it is necessary to sacrifice a piece of much greater value. A knight, or a bishop, for example.
“Sometimes, even the king and queen must be put at risk to win it all.”
The frank look in the blond’s eyes left no doubt in Ichigo’s mind that Urahara meant him as the King of this particular game. “But if you lose the king -.”
“You lose it all; correct,” agreed the shopkeeper with a pleased nod as Ichigo caught on. “Aizen played the game in the most hazardous way of all. In making himself his king, there was nowhere to turn once he was checkmated.”
Scowling dangerously, Ichigo growled. “It wasn’t a game.”
“No, but the analogy is the best one there is. Sorry,” Urahara said hastily. “Games don’t have consequences. Life and war do. And you have to suffer the most for saving the worlds.”
Uncomfortable with Urahara’s praise, Ichigo looked away, trying to hide flushing cheeks - and failing miserably. The scientist hid a smile behind the fan. Giving the substitute Soul Reaper a moment to recover himself, the blond collected his thoughts and continued.
“There’s not much I can do for you, Ichigo,” the shopkeeper said seriously, his voice quiet. “It’s unlikely that your body will fail slowly, but instead seize suddenly, like gears of a clockwork engine with a bar suddenly thrust into them. The only reason I can discover as to why you are still alive is because it is your body. The resonance between your soul and the physical has been enough to keep your body running.
“Eventually - soon - that resonance will cease, and your body will give out. Which is why I doubt you’ll go quietly - and not just because you’re a born fighter - but because that resonance will likely work one minute, and not the next.” A rueful smile crossed Urahara’s face. “Your body’s just had too much abuse over the years.”
“Guess I should have used Kon more.” Ichigo’s hands knotted into fists where they sat on the table.
Green-clad shoulders shrugged. “Possibly. You might have gained a few more months. Perhaps even as much as a year. But in the end, the result would be the same.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Ichigo downed his now-cold tea in one shot. “I think I’ll take a walk, Geta-boushi. Got some stuff to think about.”
“Of course, Kurosaki-kun.” Urahara nodded respectfully as his student stood and left the room. Being a hero was an awful burden; Ichigo was now reaping the hidden reward - death. But knowing the younger man, the former captain expected he’d do well in the afterlife. There would be much for him to do there.
He just wondered if Soul Society was ready for Kurosaki Ichigo on a full-time basis.
In the meantime, I have brought fic to celebrate. ^_^
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.
Consequences
by: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl
A/N: Every decision has a consequence, as Ichigo has learned since becoming a shinigami. Some consequences, however, can be unforeseen and surprising.
0o0o0o0o0o
“I’m sorry, Ichigo. You’re dying.”
Staring at Urahara, Ichigo could only splutter a response. “I…you…what?”
The shopkeeper sat down heavily across from him. He tilted back the ubiquitous green-and-white striped hat that he’d worn as long as the substitute Soul Reaper had known him. While the older man could lie to your face without blinking, the more important lies were told with the brim of his hat shading his blue eyes. He repeated himself, continuing, “I thought we had a little more time, but it seems yours is running out.”
Staring open-mouthed at his mentor, the words began to sink in. “You knew. You were expecting it. And just like always, you didn’t bother to tell me something I need to know. I’m not 15 anymore, Geta-boushi. I can handle the truth.”
“No, you’re definitely an adult now. One who’s already carried the weight of the world on your shoulders instead of growing up like a normal kid. I know all that, Ichigo.” Urahara busied himself making tea for them both. “Which is why I kept it from you. It was time you lived for yourself. Instead of for everyone else for a change.”
The vehemence of the scientist’s quiet words deflated much of Ichigo’s anger at the blond. “So…I’m just not going to wake up one morning?”
“Come now, Kurosaki-kun,” chided the former captain. “You, of all people, know what happens after death.”
“After, yeah. But I’m only 23. And up until now, I thought I was pretty damn healthy.” Ichigo shrugged his broad shoulders. Once the war ended and things had calmed down, the former ryoka finished “growing up.” Only an inch shorter than Renji, he was just as muscular has his frequent sparring partner. “There’s going to be an autopsy, no matter what. People my age don’t just drop dead.”
The orange-haired young man was remarkably calm for someone who had just received a death sentence. Urahara supposed that was because he’d not only seen spirits for his entire life, but he was already a substitute Soul Reaper. Hard to be worried about death when you’d already spent as much time in Soul Society as Ichigo had.
“It will be taken care of,” soothed the blond. “Your body will not be harmed.”
Looking skeptically at Urahara, the substitute shinigami asked a few more questions. “What about my family? My friends?”
“Your father already knows,” admitted the scientist, looking a bit sheepish behind the fan that suddenly appeared in his hand. “I assume you will explain to your nakama before your time comes. As to your sisters…I suggest you and Isshin decide what to tell them. Karin-chan will probably need to be, ah, finessed. Her powers are nearly as strong as your own now; she’ll probably see you afterwards.”
Ichigo felt as if a great yawning pit had just opened beneath his feet. “Shit…you told Goat-Face already? Whose life is this, anyway?”
Smiling wryly, Urahara acknowledged the jibe. “He’s known almost as long as I have that this was coming. Isshin agreed that it would be best to not burden you with it, so you could have a normal life for however long that would last.”
“Urahara-san…Kisuke. How long have you known I was going to die?”
“Why, ever since you asked me to help you get your shinigami powers back. The moment you accepted my training, you sealed your fate.”
The light, almost negligent tone to the blond’s voice stood out in stark contrast to his words, taking Ichigo aback. The scientist’s blue eyes were shrewd and watchful, gauging the reaction to his words. Always an open book emotionally, the substitute Soul Reaper didn’t bother to hide his anger and sense of betrayal. “Just like that, huh? It was that easy to decide to send me to my death?”
“Of course it was,” agreed the former captain. He calmly took a sip of tea. “You brought it on yourself, after all. You were never supposed to face Byakuya-kun at that stage of your development. For that matter, you weren’t expected to run into any seated officers yet - not even Freeloader-san. But you are Isshin’s son; it should have been expected.”
“I thought you were on my side,” muttered the former ryoka, running a hand through orange-spiked hair. He looked away from his teacher. “It doesn’t bother you at all?”
“It does, and I am, to answer your questions backwards.” Urahara placed his teacup on the table, pushing it a bit away from him. “Despite my poking fun at you over the years, you are my favorite student. And I’m not just talking of my time here in the living world, but of my entire existence. One thing you must understand, however, is that not only pawns are sacrificed.”
Ichigo frowned, trying to make sense of that statement. “Huh?”
The scientist chuckled softly. “Think of the Aizen incident as a chess game of astronomical proportions and importance. In chess, pawns are always sacrificed for strategic gains - sometimes happening much later in the game. Occasionally, it is necessary to sacrifice a piece of much greater value. A knight, or a bishop, for example.
“Sometimes, even the king and queen must be put at risk to win it all.”
The frank look in the blond’s eyes left no doubt in Ichigo’s mind that Urahara meant him as the King of this particular game. “But if you lose the king -.”
“You lose it all; correct,” agreed the shopkeeper with a pleased nod as Ichigo caught on. “Aizen played the game in the most hazardous way of all. In making himself his king, there was nowhere to turn once he was checkmated.”
Scowling dangerously, Ichigo growled. “It wasn’t a game.”
“No, but the analogy is the best one there is. Sorry,” Urahara said hastily. “Games don’t have consequences. Life and war do. And you have to suffer the most for saving the worlds.”
Uncomfortable with Urahara’s praise, Ichigo looked away, trying to hide flushing cheeks - and failing miserably. The scientist hid a smile behind the fan. Giving the substitute Soul Reaper a moment to recover himself, the blond collected his thoughts and continued.
“There’s not much I can do for you, Ichigo,” the shopkeeper said seriously, his voice quiet. “It’s unlikely that your body will fail slowly, but instead seize suddenly, like gears of a clockwork engine with a bar suddenly thrust into them. The only reason I can discover as to why you are still alive is because it is your body. The resonance between your soul and the physical has been enough to keep your body running.
“Eventually - soon - that resonance will cease, and your body will give out. Which is why I doubt you’ll go quietly - and not just because you’re a born fighter - but because that resonance will likely work one minute, and not the next.” A rueful smile crossed Urahara’s face. “Your body’s just had too much abuse over the years.”
“Guess I should have used Kon more.” Ichigo’s hands knotted into fists where they sat on the table.
Green-clad shoulders shrugged. “Possibly. You might have gained a few more months. Perhaps even as much as a year. But in the end, the result would be the same.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Ichigo downed his now-cold tea in one shot. “I think I’ll take a walk, Geta-boushi. Got some stuff to think about.”
“Of course, Kurosaki-kun.” Urahara nodded respectfully as his student stood and left the room. Being a hero was an awful burden; Ichigo was now reaping the hidden reward - death. But knowing the younger man, the former captain expected he’d do well in the afterlife. There would be much for him to do there.
He just wondered if Soul Society was ready for Kurosaki Ichigo on a full-time basis.