Post by Captain Tsukiro Ashimitsu on Dec 17, 2014 15:56:09 GMT -6
Tsukiro stood in front of the door to what was once his family’s room. The four of them had shared a small living suite inside the Shihoin royal family’s wing of the palace. Yoruichi had moved his mother and his father here when the two were married and his mother became pregnant with him. This was the room he had grown up in. It was the most familiar thing to him in the entire Soul Society, besides the room he claimed when he returned to become the joint ruler. And even then, he didn’t know that room as well as he knew this one.
Taking a deep breath, he slid the door open. Beyond the door was a large, open living room with a large kotatsu, a couch and a small fireplace in the center of the room that was also a cooking oven. At the very back of the living room were two sliding doors that opened up into a garden where he and his brother played pretty much every day of Ryushiro’s life. To the left of the living room was a full kitchen. To the right was a hallway that led to another area with three doors; one to the bathroom, one to his parent’s room, and the other to what used to be his and Ryushiro’s room.
The living suite was dark, damp and smelled of dust and stale air. He thought it smelled like even the room itself had died since that day. When he walked in and ran his fingers over the surface of the kotatsu, he found that everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, probably almost half an inch thick. There was absolutely no air circulation in the room, except for the open door behind him that led back out into the long, open corridors of the royal wing. He looked back out the door, raising his hand to block the light from his eyes. He went back and closed the door, casting the room in darkness once more.
Darkness.
He looked around the room once more, this time thinking that this room had been living like he was living ever since then: closed up, cut off from the world, from reality, stuck in the dark. He closed his eyes, taking in the atmosphere of the room.
Dead. Lifeless. Sad.
He couldn’t take it anymore. It was as if the room was crying. He couldn’t take that feeling anymore. He couldn’t take any more tears. He went over to the back doors and unlocked them. He threw them open, letting the light and sweet garden breeze blow in. He went through the entire room and tossed open every door and window he could. The sudden gusts of wind stirred up the dust throughout the room. He sneezed and coughed until he was red in the face and had to step outside to stop his sneezing fit. After a few deep breaths to clear his lungs and sinuses, he covered his mouth and nose with his stealth mask and went back in.
He grabbed brooms and dusters and dust pans, beginning to sweep the floors and dust the shelves. As one of the servant maids walked past and seen light coming from the room, she opened the doors and found him cleaning. She left and soon returned with a load of cleaning supplies, even staying for an hour to help him clean. Another hour by himself of cleaning, wiping back over the walls and furniture, as well as straightening the items in the entire suite and he was exhausted. When it was finally done, he went outside once more and sat on the walkway, his feet dangling over the edge. As he let the chemical smell air out of the house he sat and thought over Rukia’s words. She had really laid into him. He laughed as he recalled her tone of voice as she chewed him out.
She was right. He was punishing himself. He should have died with them that night. However, right after the rabid Soul Reaper had run Ryushiro through with his sword, his brother’s blood splattering across his face, one of the guards killed the Soul Reaper before he could turn his sword on him as well. Ever since that moment he was numb, feeling only pain, grief and hatred.
Why was he allowed to live? Why not take his life as well? Why not grant him the relief of following his family in death?
“Tsuki-nii-kun!!”
Tsukiro cried out in surprise, jumping at least a foot in the air at the sound of his name being shouted right near his ear. He looked up to see someone he had not seen in several years.
He was a bit on the short side with medium length violet hair, dark skin and golden suns for eyes. He held a sweet smile that he had only seen on three people in his life. One of them was dead. The other he had purposely. Stayed away from during this visit, even though he felt bad about it. He wore a sleeveless stealth uniform with a cream colored brace around his waist and arm covers of the same color. His hair was pulled up into a short ponytail.
Tsukiro blinked, blurting out his nickname for the boy. “Fourth Shiro.”
The boy pouted and held up his hands in fists in front of him. “Tsuki-kun! I told you not to call me that!”
Tsukiro laughed. “Sorry. It’s just I still think it’s funny how I’ve known four different people all with ‘shiro’ in their first names. Maybe the gods are trying to tell me something.” Tsukiro patted the spot next to him on the walk way. The boy sat down and Tsukiro ruffled his hair. “How’ve you been Yuushiro?”
“Good,” he said, almost absent mindedly as he looked back at the newly cleaned house. “How’s nee-sama?”
Tsukiro smiled at the thought of Yoruichi. “Up and around and everywhere as usual. Never staying in one place long.”
Yuushiro nodded as he still stared at the house. “Kaori-sama is mad at you. She knows you’re here and that you’re avoiding her. She told me to tell you to come to her before you leave.” Tsukiro gave a small groan with a nod. Finally, Yuushiro said, “You cleaned it.”
Tsukiro turned and looked back at the house. “Yeah. I did.”
“It’s just like it used to be,” Yuushiro sniffed. Soon, huge crocodile tears fell from his eyes, running down his face. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Ms. Aoi. Shiro-nii-kun. I miss them.”
Tsukiro frowned as he looked at the crying boy. He reached out and ruffled his hair again. “I know. I do too.”
“And Mr. Dainosuke. He hasn’t come back and taught the students for a really long time. I miss him too.” Yuushiro wiped his face and looked up at the sky. “He always loved teaching. And Aoitsuki loved to bring baked sweets to us kids. And I always loved Shiro-kun’s paintings and his drawings. He taught me calligraphy.”
Tsukiro smiled as those memories entered his mind. “Yeah, that’s right. Our room was always plastered with his art. It made me angry that he would always take up my space when he ran out of his own. And Mom’s sweets were always the best.”
Suddenly he frowned. How could he have forgotten all of that, and so much more?
“Are you going to be coming back more often now that you’re the Supreme Commander?”
Tsukiro turned and looked at Yuushiro’s expectant and happy face. He smiled back. “Yeah. I hope so.”
Yuushiro jumped up and clapped. “Well, I have to get back to my studies. Bye, Tsuki-nii!”
Tsukiro laughed at his constant change of honorific and waved. When he was gone, Tsukiro stood up and went back into the house to search for what he was looking for.
To be continued... in Part II