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regasssaTitle: Friendship, Hatred and Science - Part 5 and 6
Word Count: 5064
Rating: PG 13 for now, for language
Pairing: Uryuu/Ichigo
Warnings: AU, violence, dark themes, mild bad language
Summary: The battle with Szayel Aporro Granz ends without interruption; this is what happens to Ishida after that, how his life changes and how his friendships suffer. Does Kurosaki's vow extend to saving even him?
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belongs to Kubo Tite, I make nothing out of their use.
"Uryuu? Is that you?"
Marguerite was old and almost blind; her cataracts had claimed all but her colour vision years ago, but she refused to give up her little fabric shop on the corner of the main street. It was cosy and comfortable, and she looked at him as the doorbell chimed sweetly with naked hope painted over her wizened face. Her black-grey hair seemed thinner than he remembered it.
"It's me," he said, watching her expression warily as he stepped into the shop and closed the door behind him.
"Dear thing!" Marguerite warbled, pure emotion pouring from her. Fat tears rose instantly into her pale eyes, and she moved forward, grabbing for Uryuu's hands and clutching them tightly. "I worried! I thought that you had gone and died before me, and left me to face the end on my own!"
"You're a long way from the end, Marguerite." He squeezed her hands, feeling a warmth spreading through him at her comfort. She had missed him, worried about him.
"I am so glad you're here, Uryuu."
"Your display?"
"Full of spiderwebs and dust...you saw, didn't you?"
Uryuu glanced toward the windows - they were a little dirty, and the window display hadn't been updated in a long time. In comparison to the other shopfronts on the street it looked jaded and ancient. "I can fix that for you, if you'd like," he said, his voice soft with his own emotion.
"Would you?"
Uryuu nodded, guiding Marguerite back to her chair. "Just you relax with a cup of tea. I'll fix everything up for you."
Once he'd made the tea, Uryuu began his art.
The little fabric shop buzzed with the chitter-chatter of the sewing machine, it sang with the sound of fabric being snipped with scissors. Silks and chiffon, cotton and velvet -- it all bowed to Uryuu's will. He found a comfort in creating that he had not had in such a long time; felt the different textures roll beneath his fingertips, pricked his thumb with the needle once or twice and once, in his oblivious bliss, accidentally sewed the sleeve of a bell jacket onto his trouser leg. When he had finished the display, dusted and cleaned the windows, he settled down once more to sew himself a new outfit, glancing once or twice at the beautiful weather that had followed the zephyr the previous day.
"How does it look?" Marguerite asked, squinting at the beautiful white on white Quincy-style display as it shone in the afternoon sunlight. People outside were looking twice at the new window, their interest piqued.
"It's eye-catching," Ishida said, honestly. "Tomorrow you will have plenty of customers, I promise."
"Come with me, Uryuu."
Ishida followed, stopping at the counter as Marguerite opened the cash register. "For your hard work," she said, counting out money. "You are looking after yourself, aren't you, Uryuu?"
"I always look after myself," he answered. "And I look after you, Marguerite."
"Such a charmer, my Uryuu. Here you go." She pressed the money into his hand. "You take that and look after yourself. I want to see you here again soon, you understand? You can't afford to keep such an old lady waiting."
Uryuu smiled, squeezing her hand in return. "I'll come by later to make sure that business is going well, Marguerite," he told her. "Thank you."
"Thank you? Silly boy... Go on now, Uryuu." She shooed him away, so that he had to grab for his new clothes to stop her from making him leave without them. "Off with you."
* * * * *
A cushion of reiatsu stopped him from actually having to sit on the grass; it was wet, and green, and the combined effect would have ruined his pristine new clothes. It was just a little difficult to twist the tiny metal loops into submission while standing up, using the chain of his Quincy cross to close his cape together. As he let go and the chain fell heavily into place against his chest he relaxed, feeling as though another something that was wrong with the world had fallen back into place.
He pushed his hair back out of his face, letting his fingers run tracks back through the freshly cut strands. Slowly he was beginning to feel more like himself; more like someone might look at him and see Ishida Uryuu once more, rather than a bedraggled Shinigami experiment.
The little park broke up the main street, giving businessmen a place to eat their lunch, read their newspapers and smoke, it wasn't a long walk to return to the shops, and Uryuu made his next port of call the small, shabby looking estate agent on the corner.
"Hello?"
The place was empty...there was nobody behind the worn wooden desk with the stacks of files on it, and the white door with the paint flaking off it didn't open. Uryuu sat down, reaching for the first file and looking through it.
About five minutes later, as he was considering that it might be time to leave -- he might still make it to the other agent before it closed -- the door opened and a man backed through it talking on his mobile phone in a lively fashion. "No, Hiroshi-san, of course I can find someone to rent your studio. We're trying our best, I assure you." The person on the other side of the phone yelled loudly enough for even Uryuu to hear, and the estate agent turned, letting out a yell of shock as he saw him and dropping the phone.
He hurried to pick it back up. "No, Hiroshi-san. I'm terribly sorry! Of course I will! Please...just give me a week."
More yelling, and Uryuu winced this time. "No sir, thank you!" He put the phone down.
"I'm sorry about that."
"I didn't mean to frighten you."
"I..."
"Do you mind if I offer you a little bit of friendly advice?" Uryuu pressed, and did not stop to hear an answer, "People like to hear the word 'yes'."
The estate agent seemed floored for a moment, and then he coughed and hurried to sit down. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a room - a flat - an apartment. Something near the old railway track, if you have it. Actually, I'm surprised you don't remember me. Has it really been that long?"
"Pardon?"
"I rented a small apartment from you a few years ago," Uryuu said, pointedly. "My name is Ishida Uryuu, Itami-san."
"Ishida Ryuuken's son?"
Uryuu had expected it, but he bristled none the less. "Yes."
"My my -- no, I hardly recognised you. You have grown, though. And you still remember my name."
Uryuu nodded. "Do you have anywhere?"
"I...yeah. Didn't you have a place over in the third district before?"
Uryuu nodded, waiting as the man went through his files. He finally opened it to a page and showed Uryuu. It was his apartment.
It was just as he'd suspected -- the reason he was here in the first place. Okuda, his landlord, had put his apartment back on the market when he hadn't returned. His things hadn't been stolen, they had been removed. Why? Why hadn't his father stepped in? Or Kurosaki and the others? If they had come to see him, he could have asked them to do it for him. That they had been so very thoughtless enraged him. He thought of Kurosaki sleeping peacefully and the rage boiled into sizzling lava, burning at the insides of his stomach.
"You look ill, Ishida-san. Should I call the hospital?"
Uryuu looked up, his head swimming, and he put his hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. "I'm sorry, Itami-san. It's perfect. Is there any chance I could move in tonight?"
"Tonight? Well I...I suppose." He got back to his feet and hurried into the back room to fetch his papers, while Ishida studied the picture once more. The rent to secure the apartment would be almost all of the money that Marguerite had given him, but he wanted to pay it up front -- it would be hard enough convincing Itami to take the payment without any proper identification, after all.
* * * * *
His apartment. Uryuu turned the silver key in the lock and pushed open the door, stepping inside. He closed it behind him and sank back against it. There was still a damp patch in the middle of the floor where he'd collapsed yesterday, but it was his again now. His to lie on the floorboards and puzzle over how it had ended up like this; how he had spiralled into this.
He pushed himself away from the door and made his way through the empty, hollow apartment to the room that had once had his bed. He sat in the place it had been and lay his head down where the pillow had once laid, looking out toward the window. From the floor it was impossible to see anything but sky, and somehow it reminded him of those minutes when he had thought that he was going to die; the false blue sky of Hueco Mundo stretched out above him ready to swallow him up. If he had died in that place, would he have become a hollow too? A spirit in Hueco Mundo wouldn't stand a chance, would it? They had been the enemies, but they were also food. There was something infinitely terrifying about that.
Uryuu forced his eyes away from the window, trying to think of other things, but there were none. It was hard to remember how life had been before Hueco Mundo -- before Seireitei -- before Kurosaki. All of it chewed him up and devoured him. It was all there was of him now -- this was Ishida Uryuu. It seemed that he had always been running, always been fighting. That was simply what life was.
Kurosaki. It all came back to him, didn't it? Without Kurosaki, Aizen's plan wouldn't have worked. Without Kurosaki, Orihime wouldn't have had a power to be pursued for. Without Kurosaki, they wouldn't have defeated him. Uryuu pushed his fingers into the floorboards at his sides and closed his eyes. Kurosaki on his back, blood blossoming across his temple and fierce brown eyes saying 'I will fight this thing, even if it kills me. I will protect them.' Kurosaki, always hot headed, never thoughtful, always alone; never letting anyone improve him, especially not Uryuu. Damn him.
Didn't he know that other people were there not to just be a burden to him? No, of course not. He had always fought as though he were protecting people, but instead, he had distanced himself from them, turned himself into a monster. A hollow. And Quincy killed hollows. If Kurosaki was both a hollow and a Shinigami, then what kind of Quincy was he to befriend him?
But there it was; that hollow recklessness, that greed for the fight. An untapped flow of boundless spirit energy that could just as much be used for evil as for good. He'd felt it -- he'd had it flowing through his body once, and for all of a few minutes he had had that wonderful power that was just Ichigo pouring through him, as though he were some kind of spiritual transformer, breaking down that earth-shattering reiatsu into something much safer; the only one who could.
They had come a long way since then. If there were ever again a time that Kurosaki would need to rely on Uryuu once more, the substitute Shinigami would outright refuse.
There was a knock on the door, and Uryuu stood up, warily.
"I know you're in there, Uryuu."
His blood turned to ice and he froze where he stood, feeling everything trickling to a bitter stop in and around him. The voice of Ishida Ryuuken behind the door continued regardless.
"Let me in this instant."
Ishida wasn't sure what to say, or even how to say it.
His father knocked on the door again. "Uryuu," he said. "I don't have to leave this door intact. It is only a courtesy that I offer it."
The spell shattered like an icicle hitting the ground; the threats were familiar, welcome. "We made a deal before, remember?" Uryuu said, out loud. "I pay for my own life, and in return, you promise to keep away from it."
"Uryuu," there was a note of relief in Ryuuken's voice. "Please open the door."
"Leave."
"Not this time."
Uryuu could feel the spirit energy amassing, even from behind the door, and he lifted his hand and placed it gently on the panel of wood that separated the two of them. "You can't reach me by force, Ryuuken."
The older man tried it anyway -- Ryuuken's arrow hit the door, or it must have seemed to, but it was in fact simply absorbed through the wood. Uryuu kept his hand in place as he tried again, and then again.
"Uryuu! I am your father and I demand --"
"I told you to leave," Uryuu said, cutting him off sharply. "Believe that I mean it."
Silence followed by more silence. Ryuuken's veiled reiatsu hovered on the other side of the door for a moment, but then it subsided, and as it did, so did Uryuu's bravado. He sank down against the door and lay his head against it, trying to catch his breath, clawing for his self control so that he could stop spinning for a moment. He had made it a habit to stand up to his father. It had never worked out, but it had rarely been easy, even so. Every time he was left the same way, reacting to the panic that pounded in his chest. This time was no different, except somehow the menace he had felt from Ryuuken had been greater even than the last time, when even his life had been threatened.
He had wanted a father, and Mayuri had taken the only one he had from him and left him with Ryuuken instead.
* * * * *
Had it been Itami, the estate agent, that had alerted Ryuuken to Uryuu's return, or someone else? Who else had discovered him? Uryuu had been sure that he would go unnoticed. After all, Kurosaki had barely even realised that they were in the same class, and certainly had never recognised his reiatsu before. Why had no Shinigami pursued him, even though he had blown apart their gates to escape?
There were too many questions, all of them equally puzzling, and Uryuu knew that the old him would have had his finger on the pulse. Had so long in that cage dulled his mind so much? He didn't feel stupid. But then, hadn't they followed Aizen's plan to the letter? He hadn't predicted that, either.
Uryuu opened the bathroom window and stepped out onto the shelf, balancing on it as he turned to lock the window. It was good to return to an old routine, like trying on familiar clothes. If he had been forced to choose another apartment, he would have had to discover new ways to balance his needs as a Quincy with the appearance of normality. He jumped down from the window to the grass path below, landing gracefully and then straightening back up.
Ryuuken had come to see him. Why? His father had never shown any interest before, and yet there had been that moment when something akin to emotion had resonated in the man's condescending voice. Even Uryuu had caught that, because it was simply out of character. His father had never cared for him, had never sought him out intentionally. Even when he had been injured, lying in a hospital bed in the same building as the man, he had not once came to see him. Not even to scold him.
So why now? Why that note of relief at the sound of his voice? Somehow that single thing had been more upsetting than having him here at all. His father's relief was an enigma; a Pandora's box -- it's existence upset him, simply because he could not see inside.
Uryuu followed the railway track idly in the direction of Orihime's apartment, paying careful attention to his surroundings. The autumn tea flowers were beautiful, the sad heads of purple and pink in grasses ripped by the wind and bleached by the rain -- nature felt the same was as Uryuu felt inside, ravaged and distressed. The trees were changing colour too; if the wind had caught them a week from now, they would have been shaken bare. Last year, when they had left for Hueco Mundo, the trees had already been asleep -- so now he was sure that at least one year had passed; that it wasn't just one of Mayuri's tricks to make him lose track of time.
The thought of facing the chill of winter after spending so long in the cold did not fill him with pleasure, especially with the state of his apartment. He had nothing until he earned it, and he was in no state to do anything of the kind. He had none of his tools, and he still had to confront Kurosaki before he was afforded the foresight of knowing that he had returned.
A chill crawled up his back. That feeling... A hollow... Should he leave it? Watch to see what would happen, or use it as a tool to make himself known?
His respect for himself had to win out - he was still a Quincy, no matter his personal problems, and he had put his heart into it for one reason and one reason alone, because he did not want to see people get hurt. He couldn't leave a hollow free to rampage across town without interfering. That was just who he was.
Had his hirenkyaku always been this fast? In Soul Society it had seemed faster, as though he could simply blink and the scenery would change -- he had expected it to be much slower here, but his speed had hardly dropped at all. The town disappeared from underneath him, and he landed gently on the grass at the edge of the park, in the shade of the trees, watching the millipede-like hollow bellow and roar, rising up to its full height. It had dozens of legs down the length of its long body, but instead of coming to end at only a mouth, it supported a torso as wide as a bus, two pairs of well muscled arms and an insectoid hollow mask with devilish looking fangs.
In comparison to fighting Arrancar, it would be easy.
He intentionally let his reiatsu spike, and the monster turned toward him, it's oozing, bulbuous body undulating with the movement of its many legs. It roared, pulling itself up higher, raising itself to strike, and then tumbling like a waterfall of legs toward him. The effect would have frightened a normal person, but his speciality had always been speed, and the hollow crashed face first into the ground where Uryuu had been.
And then it submerged, using its many legs as huge shovels to claw its path underground.
The most frustrating thing wasn't that it had gone underground, only that it had left such a path of destruction in its wake. The Shinigami would clear it up before anyone thought how odd it was that the park had been ripped to pieces, but that wasn't quite the point. If Uryuu had finished it sooner, there would have been no mess, so he only had himself to blame.
As he waited for the thing to reappear, he became aware of other reiatsu approaching -- two Shinigami, two human, and all of them familiar to him. The confrontation approached with magnificent speed, and he was left with a choice -- leave now and let them handle the hollow themselves, or let them watch as he destroyed it.
He hadn't decided when the ground caved in underneath him and the hollow's gaping mouth appeared from the dirt, fangs clashing together in the space where he had just stood. Uryuu was already gone, standing mere feet from the body as it emerged helplessly from the ground in front of him. He could destroy it, but he would wait until the thing faced him again, so it could be certain that it was Uryuu Ishida that killed it.
It turned and reared again and Uryuu lifted his hand; magnificent, shining Quincy bow forming with the greatest ease.
"I don't know what Kurosaki has been letting you get away with, but you should know that there is a Quincy protecting this town now. It is regrettable, but I won't be giving you a chance to warn anyone."
The monster roared and then began to tumble toward him in a fresh assault. Uryuu let his arrow rest reassuringly warm against the tips of his fingers for a moment, and with a sigh he let his eyes close before he released it. The hollow spirit tickled slightly as it fell like rain around him, soundlessly blinking out of existence, and Uryuu lowered his bow just slightly, still on guard because the familiar reiatsu had reached him now.
Only three of the four were visible when he opened his eyes and looked; not that he had needed to look to know that the fourth would conceal himself. It didn't matter. Kurosaki and Kuchiki stood together, and just to their left, obviously having taken the longer route and looking breathless, was Orihime.
There was a silence that stretched between them for long moments, and then Orihime said "Ishida?"
Ishida. It could be worse, he supposed. She could have been using his honorific. But he had almost lost his life for her, and she could not bring herself to call him by his given name. Perhaps she didn't even remember it. He did not look at her -- his eyes were fixed on Kurosaki.
"How...?" she said, despite him, and he felt her coming closer, drawn toward him.
"Inoue don't!" It was Kuchiki who interfered. "It must be a trick."
"A trick?" Uryuu said, slowly. "Do you really think so, Rukia-san?"
The Shinigami paled, and now it was Kurosaki's turn to interfere, moving to the defence of the two women. He raised his sword toward him, and Uryuu inclined his head slightly. "Do you really want to do that, Kurosaki?"
It was what he'd been waiting for -- that tiny movement that was agressive; the narrowing of Kurosaki's eyes. Uryuu moved like fluid lightning, his hand dropping to hold tightly to the flat edge of Kurosaki's sword. Kurosaki reacted -- just a moment too late, flash stepping away from him, but it was easy to keep up. Uryuu could feel the warmth that was Kurosaki's raw power, always pouring out of him, and now he reached for it, drew it out of him as though he were squeezing a sponge. He was like a power-station, and Uryuu held on, even as Kurosaki flash stepped again.
Ichigo. Pure, blinding power that felt like him even when it had been absorbed into his own. He felt just as he recalled, as though the two of them together were undefeatable, as though they were blended together into something better. And with it...with it was a sudden rush of something powerful and dangerous that made his head spin, recklessness bubbling up from within him.
"Too slow, Kurosaki. I thought you were faster than that?"
Something like panic fell into place on the Shinigami's face, and for a second Uryuu felt it too, as though Ichigo's panic had been transferred through the sword. He had never seen that expression before; never seen Kurosaki truly frightened.
"Ishida...stop it. Let go." His voice was higher, he could practically hear the fear on it. "You won't be able to control it!"
Control what? It wasn't like last time -- he wasn't transferring Kurosaki's power and useless without it; he was taking it. He felt lightheaded and powerful, and he laughed.
If anything, this made Kurosaki look all the more frightened. They were moving faster now as he tried to shake him off.
"Let go, Ishida! Let go!"
"I already have."
The connection between them was broken, but already he felt powerful, filled with energy from such a magnificent source. Kurosaki put space between them, and Uryuu drew his bow once more, now improved by what he had taken, lifting it. He felt angry, and even that anger was an emotion he welcomed. His lip curled as he spoke. "Do you have nothing to say to me, Kurosaki?"
The Shinigami looked on edge; the fear had not yet evaporated. "Ishida, what do you think you're doing?!"
Nor did he intend to be patient. If Kurosaki could be so dense as to not know why he was angry, then Uryuu intended to give him reason to think about it more carefully. "I thought not."
He fired, aiming perfectly on target for where Kurosaki was standing, not compensating for the other's movement intentionally, although after he knew which direction he was moving in, he could perfectly easily have fired an arrow that would hit him. He wanted to rattle Kurosaki, and being chased by his arrows was adequate. He followed him from right to left, missing him with every arrow, and just as Kurosaki turned to begin an attack of his own, Rukia and Orihime ran into the clearing, having finally caught up with them.
"Stop it! Please stop it, Ishida-kun!"
Uryuu lowered his bow but did not disarm it, turning toward Orihime, confident that Kurosaki would not attack him while he was speaking. "How long did we fight beside each other?" he asked. "How often have I risked my life for you, Inoue?"
She blanched, and he took that as a small victory, nodded once to Rukia, and then gave one more firm look over his shoulder. Kurosaki was watching him with the focussed expression he had seen him wear only in deep battle, his sword gripped tightly in one white hand.
"A little recognition," Uryuu snapped, raising his voice. "A little respect!" He narrowed his eyes, bow blazing as his fury rose, unable to contain the vast energy that he had stolen from Kurosaki. "To forget me after everything I've done for you!"
They looked at least a little cowed by his temper. Orihime was still blanched white, and Rukia was looking down at her feet. Kurosaki had lowered his zanpakuto by the slightest angle, but that would be as disarmed as he would become after such an agressive attack.
It was time to go. He would leave them to think about his return, to consider where they had gone wrong, and mostly, he would need some time alone to calm down. He could feel the anger burning at the inside of his chest in a way he had never felt it before. It wanted him to strike out at them, to make them suffer for leaving him to Mayuri all this time. He wanted to punish them. But even so...even though he wanted it... He wasn't like that! He wasn't a monster! He would have to give them a chance to earn his forgiveness first.
Uryuu retreated, starting by returning to the clearing to see if he could locate the reiatsu he had felt earlier. There was nothing now, only a hint of it that was insubstantial. He recognised it of course, and he had no great desire to hunt out the person it belonged to. Still...there was something else here...a hint of reiatsu that was almost nothing. Perhaps it was a remnant of the hollow, or perhaps someone else had been watching him. Whoever they were, they were gone now, so Uryuu drew away, his own spirit pressure cloaked once more. There was one more thing he had to do before he returned home, and he would have to be quick before Kurosaki regrouped and came this way himself.
He stopped outside the small shop and pushed open the door, stepping inside. If he was quiet, he could simply return the money and leave. But of course, he hadn't been that lucky so far, there was no reason to suspect that he would be now.
When the door opened at the back of the shop, he certainly didn't expect to see Mayuri Kurotsuchi standing framed in the light, and when he turned to look for an escape route, Nemu was standing behind him.
"You've been waiting for me."
"Urahara Kisuke told me that you would be here. It wasn't particularly easy to convince him that I had your best interests at heart." A predatorial smile crept over the Shinigami captain's face, and Uryuu was confident that it was most definitely not what Mayuri had in mind for him. "It is the perfect time," he continued, "To observe what returning here has done to your body."
"What it's..." Realisation poured over Uryuu. "You let me escape intentionally," he said, certain now that it was the truth. Mayuri's blank face, although it did not change, only confirmed it.
"Everything is simply a part of my experiment, Quincy. It is your only purpose."
A sharp needle plunged into his neck, and he managed to hear Nemu apologise to him before everything went black.
It was dark when he opened his eyes again. There was a futon underneath him, and his bedroom window was filled with the swollen autumn moon. When he reached up to confirm that he had not simply been dreaming, the dried blood on his neck was evidence enough. He sat up, his head throbbing, very aware of the weakness that filled his limbs, the familiar chill that lingered in his fingers and toes. He felt drained, as though Mayuri had siphoned off all of the energy he had taken to see how much there was.
That must have been the presence he had felt. It must be an important experiment for Mayuri to come all the way from Seireitei to observe it, but it did not make him feel any more comfortable. He had thought that he had escaped, but now he knew that it simply wasn't the truth. He was still an experiment. Still just something for Shinigami to crush under their feet if they felt like it. Well it was too much. They had persecuted Quincy to the brink of extinction, but it would end with him. One way or another, this experiment stopped now. He would be recognised as deserving of life, or he would fight to the death to obtain it.
Word Count: 5064
Rating: PG 13 for now, for language
Pairing: Uryuu/Ichigo
Warnings: AU, violence, dark themes, mild bad language
Summary: The battle with Szayel Aporro Granz ends without interruption; this is what happens to Ishida after that, how his life changes and how his friendships suffer. Does Kurosaki's vow extend to saving even him?
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belongs to Kubo Tite, I make nothing out of their use.
"Uryuu? Is that you?"
Marguerite was old and almost blind; her cataracts had claimed all but her colour vision years ago, but she refused to give up her little fabric shop on the corner of the main street. It was cosy and comfortable, and she looked at him as the doorbell chimed sweetly with naked hope painted over her wizened face. Her black-grey hair seemed thinner than he remembered it.
"It's me," he said, watching her expression warily as he stepped into the shop and closed the door behind him.
"Dear thing!" Marguerite warbled, pure emotion pouring from her. Fat tears rose instantly into her pale eyes, and she moved forward, grabbing for Uryuu's hands and clutching them tightly. "I worried! I thought that you had gone and died before me, and left me to face the end on my own!"
"You're a long way from the end, Marguerite." He squeezed her hands, feeling a warmth spreading through him at her comfort. She had missed him, worried about him.
"I am so glad you're here, Uryuu."
"Your display?"
"Full of spiderwebs and dust...you saw, didn't you?"
Uryuu glanced toward the windows - they were a little dirty, and the window display hadn't been updated in a long time. In comparison to the other shopfronts on the street it looked jaded and ancient. "I can fix that for you, if you'd like," he said, his voice soft with his own emotion.
"Would you?"
Uryuu nodded, guiding Marguerite back to her chair. "Just you relax with a cup of tea. I'll fix everything up for you."
Once he'd made the tea, Uryuu began his art.
The little fabric shop buzzed with the chitter-chatter of the sewing machine, it sang with the sound of fabric being snipped with scissors. Silks and chiffon, cotton and velvet -- it all bowed to Uryuu's will. He found a comfort in creating that he had not had in such a long time; felt the different textures roll beneath his fingertips, pricked his thumb with the needle once or twice and once, in his oblivious bliss, accidentally sewed the sleeve of a bell jacket onto his trouser leg. When he had finished the display, dusted and cleaned the windows, he settled down once more to sew himself a new outfit, glancing once or twice at the beautiful weather that had followed the zephyr the previous day.
"How does it look?" Marguerite asked, squinting at the beautiful white on white Quincy-style display as it shone in the afternoon sunlight. People outside were looking twice at the new window, their interest piqued.
"It's eye-catching," Ishida said, honestly. "Tomorrow you will have plenty of customers, I promise."
"Come with me, Uryuu."
Ishida followed, stopping at the counter as Marguerite opened the cash register. "For your hard work," she said, counting out money. "You are looking after yourself, aren't you, Uryuu?"
"I always look after myself," he answered. "And I look after you, Marguerite."
"Such a charmer, my Uryuu. Here you go." She pressed the money into his hand. "You take that and look after yourself. I want to see you here again soon, you understand? You can't afford to keep such an old lady waiting."
Uryuu smiled, squeezing her hand in return. "I'll come by later to make sure that business is going well, Marguerite," he told her. "Thank you."
"Thank you? Silly boy... Go on now, Uryuu." She shooed him away, so that he had to grab for his new clothes to stop her from making him leave without them. "Off with you."
* * * * *
A cushion of reiatsu stopped him from actually having to sit on the grass; it was wet, and green, and the combined effect would have ruined his pristine new clothes. It was just a little difficult to twist the tiny metal loops into submission while standing up, using the chain of his Quincy cross to close his cape together. As he let go and the chain fell heavily into place against his chest he relaxed, feeling as though another something that was wrong with the world had fallen back into place.
He pushed his hair back out of his face, letting his fingers run tracks back through the freshly cut strands. Slowly he was beginning to feel more like himself; more like someone might look at him and see Ishida Uryuu once more, rather than a bedraggled Shinigami experiment.
The little park broke up the main street, giving businessmen a place to eat their lunch, read their newspapers and smoke, it wasn't a long walk to return to the shops, and Uryuu made his next port of call the small, shabby looking estate agent on the corner.
"Hello?"
The place was empty...there was nobody behind the worn wooden desk with the stacks of files on it, and the white door with the paint flaking off it didn't open. Uryuu sat down, reaching for the first file and looking through it.
About five minutes later, as he was considering that it might be time to leave -- he might still make it to the other agent before it closed -- the door opened and a man backed through it talking on his mobile phone in a lively fashion. "No, Hiroshi-san, of course I can find someone to rent your studio. We're trying our best, I assure you." The person on the other side of the phone yelled loudly enough for even Uryuu to hear, and the estate agent turned, letting out a yell of shock as he saw him and dropping the phone.
He hurried to pick it back up. "No, Hiroshi-san. I'm terribly sorry! Of course I will! Please...just give me a week."
More yelling, and Uryuu winced this time. "No sir, thank you!" He put the phone down.
"I'm sorry about that."
"I didn't mean to frighten you."
"I..."
"Do you mind if I offer you a little bit of friendly advice?" Uryuu pressed, and did not stop to hear an answer, "People like to hear the word 'yes'."
The estate agent seemed floored for a moment, and then he coughed and hurried to sit down. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a room - a flat - an apartment. Something near the old railway track, if you have it. Actually, I'm surprised you don't remember me. Has it really been that long?"
"Pardon?"
"I rented a small apartment from you a few years ago," Uryuu said, pointedly. "My name is Ishida Uryuu, Itami-san."
"Ishida Ryuuken's son?"
Uryuu had expected it, but he bristled none the less. "Yes."
"My my -- no, I hardly recognised you. You have grown, though. And you still remember my name."
Uryuu nodded. "Do you have anywhere?"
"I...yeah. Didn't you have a place over in the third district before?"
Uryuu nodded, waiting as the man went through his files. He finally opened it to a page and showed Uryuu. It was his apartment.
It was just as he'd suspected -- the reason he was here in the first place. Okuda, his landlord, had put his apartment back on the market when he hadn't returned. His things hadn't been stolen, they had been removed. Why? Why hadn't his father stepped in? Or Kurosaki and the others? If they had come to see him, he could have asked them to do it for him. That they had been so very thoughtless enraged him. He thought of Kurosaki sleeping peacefully and the rage boiled into sizzling lava, burning at the insides of his stomach.
"You look ill, Ishida-san. Should I call the hospital?"
Uryuu looked up, his head swimming, and he put his hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. "I'm sorry, Itami-san. It's perfect. Is there any chance I could move in tonight?"
"Tonight? Well I...I suppose." He got back to his feet and hurried into the back room to fetch his papers, while Ishida studied the picture once more. The rent to secure the apartment would be almost all of the money that Marguerite had given him, but he wanted to pay it up front -- it would be hard enough convincing Itami to take the payment without any proper identification, after all.
* * * * *
His apartment. Uryuu turned the silver key in the lock and pushed open the door, stepping inside. He closed it behind him and sank back against it. There was still a damp patch in the middle of the floor where he'd collapsed yesterday, but it was his again now. His to lie on the floorboards and puzzle over how it had ended up like this; how he had spiralled into this.
He pushed himself away from the door and made his way through the empty, hollow apartment to the room that had once had his bed. He sat in the place it had been and lay his head down where the pillow had once laid, looking out toward the window. From the floor it was impossible to see anything but sky, and somehow it reminded him of those minutes when he had thought that he was going to die; the false blue sky of Hueco Mundo stretched out above him ready to swallow him up. If he had died in that place, would he have become a hollow too? A spirit in Hueco Mundo wouldn't stand a chance, would it? They had been the enemies, but they were also food. There was something infinitely terrifying about that.
Uryuu forced his eyes away from the window, trying to think of other things, but there were none. It was hard to remember how life had been before Hueco Mundo -- before Seireitei -- before Kurosaki. All of it chewed him up and devoured him. It was all there was of him now -- this was Ishida Uryuu. It seemed that he had always been running, always been fighting. That was simply what life was.
Kurosaki. It all came back to him, didn't it? Without Kurosaki, Aizen's plan wouldn't have worked. Without Kurosaki, Orihime wouldn't have had a power to be pursued for. Without Kurosaki, they wouldn't have defeated him. Uryuu pushed his fingers into the floorboards at his sides and closed his eyes. Kurosaki on his back, blood blossoming across his temple and fierce brown eyes saying 'I will fight this thing, even if it kills me. I will protect them.' Kurosaki, always hot headed, never thoughtful, always alone; never letting anyone improve him, especially not Uryuu. Damn him.
Didn't he know that other people were there not to just be a burden to him? No, of course not. He had always fought as though he were protecting people, but instead, he had distanced himself from them, turned himself into a monster. A hollow. And Quincy killed hollows. If Kurosaki was both a hollow and a Shinigami, then what kind of Quincy was he to befriend him?
But there it was; that hollow recklessness, that greed for the fight. An untapped flow of boundless spirit energy that could just as much be used for evil as for good. He'd felt it -- he'd had it flowing through his body once, and for all of a few minutes he had had that wonderful power that was just Ichigo pouring through him, as though he were some kind of spiritual transformer, breaking down that earth-shattering reiatsu into something much safer; the only one who could.
They had come a long way since then. If there were ever again a time that Kurosaki would need to rely on Uryuu once more, the substitute Shinigami would outright refuse.
There was a knock on the door, and Uryuu stood up, warily.
"I know you're in there, Uryuu."
His blood turned to ice and he froze where he stood, feeling everything trickling to a bitter stop in and around him. The voice of Ishida Ryuuken behind the door continued regardless.
"Let me in this instant."
Ishida wasn't sure what to say, or even how to say it.
His father knocked on the door again. "Uryuu," he said. "I don't have to leave this door intact. It is only a courtesy that I offer it."
The spell shattered like an icicle hitting the ground; the threats were familiar, welcome. "We made a deal before, remember?" Uryuu said, out loud. "I pay for my own life, and in return, you promise to keep away from it."
"Uryuu," there was a note of relief in Ryuuken's voice. "Please open the door."
"Leave."
"Not this time."
Uryuu could feel the spirit energy amassing, even from behind the door, and he lifted his hand and placed it gently on the panel of wood that separated the two of them. "You can't reach me by force, Ryuuken."
The older man tried it anyway -- Ryuuken's arrow hit the door, or it must have seemed to, but it was in fact simply absorbed through the wood. Uryuu kept his hand in place as he tried again, and then again.
"Uryuu! I am your father and I demand --"
"I told you to leave," Uryuu said, cutting him off sharply. "Believe that I mean it."
Silence followed by more silence. Ryuuken's veiled reiatsu hovered on the other side of the door for a moment, but then it subsided, and as it did, so did Uryuu's bravado. He sank down against the door and lay his head against it, trying to catch his breath, clawing for his self control so that he could stop spinning for a moment. He had made it a habit to stand up to his father. It had never worked out, but it had rarely been easy, even so. Every time he was left the same way, reacting to the panic that pounded in his chest. This time was no different, except somehow the menace he had felt from Ryuuken had been greater even than the last time, when even his life had been threatened.
He had wanted a father, and Mayuri had taken the only one he had from him and left him with Ryuuken instead.
* * * * *
Had it been Itami, the estate agent, that had alerted Ryuuken to Uryuu's return, or someone else? Who else had discovered him? Uryuu had been sure that he would go unnoticed. After all, Kurosaki had barely even realised that they were in the same class, and certainly had never recognised his reiatsu before. Why had no Shinigami pursued him, even though he had blown apart their gates to escape?
There were too many questions, all of them equally puzzling, and Uryuu knew that the old him would have had his finger on the pulse. Had so long in that cage dulled his mind so much? He didn't feel stupid. But then, hadn't they followed Aizen's plan to the letter? He hadn't predicted that, either.
Uryuu opened the bathroom window and stepped out onto the shelf, balancing on it as he turned to lock the window. It was good to return to an old routine, like trying on familiar clothes. If he had been forced to choose another apartment, he would have had to discover new ways to balance his needs as a Quincy with the appearance of normality. He jumped down from the window to the grass path below, landing gracefully and then straightening back up.
Ryuuken had come to see him. Why? His father had never shown any interest before, and yet there had been that moment when something akin to emotion had resonated in the man's condescending voice. Even Uryuu had caught that, because it was simply out of character. His father had never cared for him, had never sought him out intentionally. Even when he had been injured, lying in a hospital bed in the same building as the man, he had not once came to see him. Not even to scold him.
So why now? Why that note of relief at the sound of his voice? Somehow that single thing had been more upsetting than having him here at all. His father's relief was an enigma; a Pandora's box -- it's existence upset him, simply because he could not see inside.
Uryuu followed the railway track idly in the direction of Orihime's apartment, paying careful attention to his surroundings. The autumn tea flowers were beautiful, the sad heads of purple and pink in grasses ripped by the wind and bleached by the rain -- nature felt the same was as Uryuu felt inside, ravaged and distressed. The trees were changing colour too; if the wind had caught them a week from now, they would have been shaken bare. Last year, when they had left for Hueco Mundo, the trees had already been asleep -- so now he was sure that at least one year had passed; that it wasn't just one of Mayuri's tricks to make him lose track of time.
The thought of facing the chill of winter after spending so long in the cold did not fill him with pleasure, especially with the state of his apartment. He had nothing until he earned it, and he was in no state to do anything of the kind. He had none of his tools, and he still had to confront Kurosaki before he was afforded the foresight of knowing that he had returned.
A chill crawled up his back. That feeling... A hollow... Should he leave it? Watch to see what would happen, or use it as a tool to make himself known?
His respect for himself had to win out - he was still a Quincy, no matter his personal problems, and he had put his heart into it for one reason and one reason alone, because he did not want to see people get hurt. He couldn't leave a hollow free to rampage across town without interfering. That was just who he was.
Had his hirenkyaku always been this fast? In Soul Society it had seemed faster, as though he could simply blink and the scenery would change -- he had expected it to be much slower here, but his speed had hardly dropped at all. The town disappeared from underneath him, and he landed gently on the grass at the edge of the park, in the shade of the trees, watching the millipede-like hollow bellow and roar, rising up to its full height. It had dozens of legs down the length of its long body, but instead of coming to end at only a mouth, it supported a torso as wide as a bus, two pairs of well muscled arms and an insectoid hollow mask with devilish looking fangs.
In comparison to fighting Arrancar, it would be easy.
He intentionally let his reiatsu spike, and the monster turned toward him, it's oozing, bulbuous body undulating with the movement of its many legs. It roared, pulling itself up higher, raising itself to strike, and then tumbling like a waterfall of legs toward him. The effect would have frightened a normal person, but his speciality had always been speed, and the hollow crashed face first into the ground where Uryuu had been.
And then it submerged, using its many legs as huge shovels to claw its path underground.
The most frustrating thing wasn't that it had gone underground, only that it had left such a path of destruction in its wake. The Shinigami would clear it up before anyone thought how odd it was that the park had been ripped to pieces, but that wasn't quite the point. If Uryuu had finished it sooner, there would have been no mess, so he only had himself to blame.
As he waited for the thing to reappear, he became aware of other reiatsu approaching -- two Shinigami, two human, and all of them familiar to him. The confrontation approached with magnificent speed, and he was left with a choice -- leave now and let them handle the hollow themselves, or let them watch as he destroyed it.
He hadn't decided when the ground caved in underneath him and the hollow's gaping mouth appeared from the dirt, fangs clashing together in the space where he had just stood. Uryuu was already gone, standing mere feet from the body as it emerged helplessly from the ground in front of him. He could destroy it, but he would wait until the thing faced him again, so it could be certain that it was Uryuu Ishida that killed it.
It turned and reared again and Uryuu lifted his hand; magnificent, shining Quincy bow forming with the greatest ease.
"I don't know what Kurosaki has been letting you get away with, but you should know that there is a Quincy protecting this town now. It is regrettable, but I won't be giving you a chance to warn anyone."
The monster roared and then began to tumble toward him in a fresh assault. Uryuu let his arrow rest reassuringly warm against the tips of his fingers for a moment, and with a sigh he let his eyes close before he released it. The hollow spirit tickled slightly as it fell like rain around him, soundlessly blinking out of existence, and Uryuu lowered his bow just slightly, still on guard because the familiar reiatsu had reached him now.
Only three of the four were visible when he opened his eyes and looked; not that he had needed to look to know that the fourth would conceal himself. It didn't matter. Kurosaki and Kuchiki stood together, and just to their left, obviously having taken the longer route and looking breathless, was Orihime.
There was a silence that stretched between them for long moments, and then Orihime said "Ishida?"
Ishida. It could be worse, he supposed. She could have been using his honorific. But he had almost lost his life for her, and she could not bring herself to call him by his given name. Perhaps she didn't even remember it. He did not look at her -- his eyes were fixed on Kurosaki.
"How...?" she said, despite him, and he felt her coming closer, drawn toward him.
"Inoue don't!" It was Kuchiki who interfered. "It must be a trick."
"A trick?" Uryuu said, slowly. "Do you really think so, Rukia-san?"
The Shinigami paled, and now it was Kurosaki's turn to interfere, moving to the defence of the two women. He raised his sword toward him, and Uryuu inclined his head slightly. "Do you really want to do that, Kurosaki?"
It was what he'd been waiting for -- that tiny movement that was agressive; the narrowing of Kurosaki's eyes. Uryuu moved like fluid lightning, his hand dropping to hold tightly to the flat edge of Kurosaki's sword. Kurosaki reacted -- just a moment too late, flash stepping away from him, but it was easy to keep up. Uryuu could feel the warmth that was Kurosaki's raw power, always pouring out of him, and now he reached for it, drew it out of him as though he were squeezing a sponge. He was like a power-station, and Uryuu held on, even as Kurosaki flash stepped again.
Ichigo. Pure, blinding power that felt like him even when it had been absorbed into his own. He felt just as he recalled, as though the two of them together were undefeatable, as though they were blended together into something better. And with it...with it was a sudden rush of something powerful and dangerous that made his head spin, recklessness bubbling up from within him.
"Too slow, Kurosaki. I thought you were faster than that?"
Something like panic fell into place on the Shinigami's face, and for a second Uryuu felt it too, as though Ichigo's panic had been transferred through the sword. He had never seen that expression before; never seen Kurosaki truly frightened.
"Ishida...stop it. Let go." His voice was higher, he could practically hear the fear on it. "You won't be able to control it!"
Control what? It wasn't like last time -- he wasn't transferring Kurosaki's power and useless without it; he was taking it. He felt lightheaded and powerful, and he laughed.
If anything, this made Kurosaki look all the more frightened. They were moving faster now as he tried to shake him off.
"Let go, Ishida! Let go!"
"I already have."
The connection between them was broken, but already he felt powerful, filled with energy from such a magnificent source. Kurosaki put space between them, and Uryuu drew his bow once more, now improved by what he had taken, lifting it. He felt angry, and even that anger was an emotion he welcomed. His lip curled as he spoke. "Do you have nothing to say to me, Kurosaki?"
The Shinigami looked on edge; the fear had not yet evaporated. "Ishida, what do you think you're doing?!"
Nor did he intend to be patient. If Kurosaki could be so dense as to not know why he was angry, then Uryuu intended to give him reason to think about it more carefully. "I thought not."
He fired, aiming perfectly on target for where Kurosaki was standing, not compensating for the other's movement intentionally, although after he knew which direction he was moving in, he could perfectly easily have fired an arrow that would hit him. He wanted to rattle Kurosaki, and being chased by his arrows was adequate. He followed him from right to left, missing him with every arrow, and just as Kurosaki turned to begin an attack of his own, Rukia and Orihime ran into the clearing, having finally caught up with them.
"Stop it! Please stop it, Ishida-kun!"
Uryuu lowered his bow but did not disarm it, turning toward Orihime, confident that Kurosaki would not attack him while he was speaking. "How long did we fight beside each other?" he asked. "How often have I risked my life for you, Inoue?"
She blanched, and he took that as a small victory, nodded once to Rukia, and then gave one more firm look over his shoulder. Kurosaki was watching him with the focussed expression he had seen him wear only in deep battle, his sword gripped tightly in one white hand.
"A little recognition," Uryuu snapped, raising his voice. "A little respect!" He narrowed his eyes, bow blazing as his fury rose, unable to contain the vast energy that he had stolen from Kurosaki. "To forget me after everything I've done for you!"
They looked at least a little cowed by his temper. Orihime was still blanched white, and Rukia was looking down at her feet. Kurosaki had lowered his zanpakuto by the slightest angle, but that would be as disarmed as he would become after such an agressive attack.
It was time to go. He would leave them to think about his return, to consider where they had gone wrong, and mostly, he would need some time alone to calm down. He could feel the anger burning at the inside of his chest in a way he had never felt it before. It wanted him to strike out at them, to make them suffer for leaving him to Mayuri all this time. He wanted to punish them. But even so...even though he wanted it... He wasn't like that! He wasn't a monster! He would have to give them a chance to earn his forgiveness first.
Uryuu retreated, starting by returning to the clearing to see if he could locate the reiatsu he had felt earlier. There was nothing now, only a hint of it that was insubstantial. He recognised it of course, and he had no great desire to hunt out the person it belonged to. Still...there was something else here...a hint of reiatsu that was almost nothing. Perhaps it was a remnant of the hollow, or perhaps someone else had been watching him. Whoever they were, they were gone now, so Uryuu drew away, his own spirit pressure cloaked once more. There was one more thing he had to do before he returned home, and he would have to be quick before Kurosaki regrouped and came this way himself.
He stopped outside the small shop and pushed open the door, stepping inside. If he was quiet, he could simply return the money and leave. But of course, he hadn't been that lucky so far, there was no reason to suspect that he would be now.
When the door opened at the back of the shop, he certainly didn't expect to see Mayuri Kurotsuchi standing framed in the light, and when he turned to look for an escape route, Nemu was standing behind him.
"You've been waiting for me."
"Urahara Kisuke told me that you would be here. It wasn't particularly easy to convince him that I had your best interests at heart." A predatorial smile crept over the Shinigami captain's face, and Uryuu was confident that it was most definitely not what Mayuri had in mind for him. "It is the perfect time," he continued, "To observe what returning here has done to your body."
"What it's..." Realisation poured over Uryuu. "You let me escape intentionally," he said, certain now that it was the truth. Mayuri's blank face, although it did not change, only confirmed it.
"Everything is simply a part of my experiment, Quincy. It is your only purpose."
A sharp needle plunged into his neck, and he managed to hear Nemu apologise to him before everything went black.
It was dark when he opened his eyes again. There was a futon underneath him, and his bedroom window was filled with the swollen autumn moon. When he reached up to confirm that he had not simply been dreaming, the dried blood on his neck was evidence enough. He sat up, his head throbbing, very aware of the weakness that filled his limbs, the familiar chill that lingered in his fingers and toes. He felt drained, as though Mayuri had siphoned off all of the energy he had taken to see how much there was.
That must have been the presence he had felt. It must be an important experiment for Mayuri to come all the way from Seireitei to observe it, but it did not make him feel any more comfortable. He had thought that he had escaped, but now he knew that it simply wasn't the truth. He was still an experiment. Still just something for Shinigami to crush under their feet if they felt like it. Well it was too much. They had persecuted Quincy to the brink of extinction, but it would end with him. One way or another, this experiment stopped now. He would be recognised as deserving of life, or he would fight to the death to obtain it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-12 11:24 am (UTC)"Uryuu," he said. "I don't have to leave this door intact. It is only a courtesy that I offer it."
So hot. Is it wrong I find Ryuuken hot?...
ANYWAY, I do hope to see more of this soon!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-12 12:06 pm (UTC)You are too sweet. There will be more soon, but I always post to LJ in twos, so you will have to wait longer *grin*