Technically speaking, my recent writers' block still hasn't totally faded away - but it's quite amazing, actually, how you can be driven to write a new fanfic when you so badly want to avoid writing an essay X_O
I'd been imagining this specific ShuuKira interaction/exchange for some time, and only just got the chance to write it now; hopefully it fits well enough into Kubo Tite's canon. Don't forget to note the spoilers. :)
Author: Harmony (Silver Harmony)
Characters/Pairing: Hisagi Shuuhei/Kira Izuru.
Word Count: Approximately 1,129.
Disclaimer: Not mine – otherwise this pairing would be canon.
Notes: Spoilers for Chapter 101 or Episode 35 (the chapter/episode in which Kira and Hinamori fought each other). Cross-posted to shuukira, asterisk_plus, bleach_yaoi and kurosaki_clinic.
Feedback: Very much appreciated, as I would like to write much better Bleach fics. Your concrits mean a lot to me, especially when it tells me what you think of the story and what I can do to improve. Please and thank you.
Summary: Duty divided all of them.
He and Hisagi stood at the doorway, one behind the other; Izuru made no attempt to resist. There was no point.
A flurry of jumbled thoughts crossed his mind. He wondered, briefly, who it was that everyone was fighting – because it somehow ended up being each other; he wondered, too, whose side everyone was truly on, because the answer could really be anything. He wondered what choices people were making, what they were doing right now. Maybe, he realized, the only reason he was thinking all this was because it was almost surreal that his recent actions had been serious enough for him to be restrained and arrested.
The blond felt something cold in his stomach when he looked at the holding cell in front of him. He was going to be locked in there, in that dark, empty space.
‘I… never thought it would have to come to imprisonment,’ he laughed nervously. ‘Trying to defend my own captain.’
Hisagi said nothing.
Izuru shifted on his feet, where he was standing. He knew how uncomfortable the other lieutenant must be feeling, just being there. And he himself, too, couldn’t avoid the wave of embarrassment and shame that washed over him. After all, Hisagi was a model shinigami; he would never have done anything that could land him in the same circumstances.
‘Was I wrong,’ the blond uttered, ‘crossing blades with Hinamori…?’
He turned around to look at Hisagi, but again, the dark-haired vice-captain didn’t give an answer. Izuru felt slightly disappointed; he had been craving one. He wanted someone to repeat to him what he had done, just so he could hear it from somebody else, and Hisagi was someone whom he had always fiercely trusted. The war confused him… any battle that caused friends to turn against friends confused him.
Hisagi slowly drew the arm restraints around him, and began to secure them. There was something automatic about his actions, but Izuru understood that it was, of course, out of duty. He could taste something bitter at the back of his mouth. Again, he made no resistance.
‘…I’m sorry,’ he said, and he meant it. ‘Hisagi-senpai.’
The dark-haired lieutenant seemed mildly surprised at this. Izuru, then, realized that it must have been a while since he referred to him by this relationship. But at this moment, it was something the blond needed; they were friends, good friends, but he needed, too, the guiding comfort and the security of his senpai’s presence. Hisagi, compassionate and selfless and clever, had always been an incredible person since their shared time at the Shinigami Academy – Izuru always felt such a clear warmth when his senpai was there to give him guidance… he’d always wanted to hold on to that warmth, to follow it, wherever it went.
But that warmth was hardly there, now, and he knew why. Duty divided them. And it ached, seeing how distant Hisagi’s eyes were even when they were looking straight at him, how far away Hisagi felt even though he was standing right in front of him. The dark-haired lieutenant’s soft features somehow lacked everything about him that Izuru always held on to. He felt its absence so clearly now that it wasn’t there, and he realized how much he missed it.
Hisagi’s eyes slid to the floor.
‘Why are you apologizing to me?’
‘Because you must be so disappointed in me,’ the blond answered.
‘It shouldn’t matter what I think,’ the dark-haired shinigami uttered. ‘You went with your own instinct. I can’t give you judgement on that.’
Izuru swallowed; he couldn’t bear to say I wish you would. Disapproval, disappointment… he would have taken anything that Hisagi would give him, but Hisagi wasn’t giving him anything. The blond wished that the other shinigami would look up at him again, that their eyes would meet. For just one fleeting moment, Izuru felt betrayed by their rank, by the duties they’d been assigned, by the profile, worthy of admiration and respect, that both of them had always been expected to keep.
Hisagi finished securing the restraints, lifted his hand and gestured towards the open door of the cell.
‘Can I please ask you to step inside,’ he said. ‘Lieutenant Kira.’
So dutiful, so professional. But in this cold, dark cell, Izuru knew that all of it would mean nothing. There were no subordinates here to lead, no captain to follow. Nevertheless, he still gave a slow nod of his head, and stepped obediently into the cell. He heard the door creak to a close behind him.
It was when he turned around and saw Hisagi on the other side of the vertical bars, completely separated from him, turning the key in the lock, that the loneliness really welled up inside him.
‘Please stay with me for a while,’ he couldn’t stop himself from pleading.
He actually felt a little frightened to be here alone. He had never been a prisoner in the holding cells before. The cold air swirling around him and the stone on all sides of him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He could feel the quivering in his own hands.
‘I can’t,’ the dark-haired lieutenant answered, turning on his heel. ‘I have to report to Hitsugaya-Taicho.’
Izuru knew that once he started walking away, he would really be gone. Dread washed over him. He pushed a thin wrist out desperately through the bars and grasped hold of Hisagi’s retreating elbow.
Hisagi looked up in surprise, into Izuru’s eyes.
‘Hisagi-san,’ the blond said under his breath. ‘Please.’
It was then that something gave way. Izuru saw, even if only for a second, the smallest trace of his friend and senpai reflected in those dark eyes; he felt, however fleeting, the concern and care and security that he had always known from him. There was a slight hitch in Hisagi’s breathing and a faint tremor in his arm; Izuru could sense it. For just a moment, he forgot that there were bars between them, dividing them. For just a moment, Hisagi’s presence was as it always was, calm and mild – an unsaid comfort.
But then those soft eyes slid away again, and everything vanished, and Izuru couldn’t have missed him more.
‘Kira,’ he said plainly. ‘I have to go.’
The dark-haired lieutenant moved from the touch at his elbow and walked away. His footsteps slowly grew quieter, the consoling stir of his reiatsu faded away; Hisagi had left him behind, and he was alone.
The cold stone walls embraced him. Izuru slowly made his way over to the corner of his cell and sat down there, because it was the only thing he could do.
He closed his eyes. There was no point thinking about it now. Duty and the war separated them all.