![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Guilt (Bleach fic! At last!)
A nice day in all, I couldn't find the book I had to read for monday, but it's okay since I found 'Cloud of Sparrows', by Takashi Matsuoka; whose sequel I've read and it was quite mind blowing. Also, I bought the third volume of Sin City, which I absolutely adore as of now (My God, the inking! the noir setting!) and something I've wanted a lot for a while now, as I adoooored the movie. Aaaand, I bought volume 5 of xxxholic, which was amazing. I was looking for The Sandman, but it's too expensive and I'll probably try and get it this december when I got to the states. Also, I finshed my short story about the Day of the Death, and I like it a lot, quite frankly (should I traduce it?).
Now, let's end the rambling. I've finally put myself to write Bleach fic again, even when it's just to stay away from my incoming HP Hannah A. fic for a while. It's not quite that good, but oh well, it could be worse. (And for the life of it, but I can't remember the name of the hollow that killed Ichigo's mom... Fisher something?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nekare
Title: Guilt
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word Count: 250
Spoilers: Just before the Soul Society Arc.
Ichigo still feels guilty about his mother’s death, and most probably, he always will. As he stands under the light drizzle that has flatten his rebellious hair to his skull, Rukia’s fingers intertwined with his and the tombstone in front of him painted with the endless grey of the cemetery; he can’t help but let the guilt gnaw at his entrails, making him raw with the bile of his anger at himself and a small part to the hollow who took her life away.
(What makes him want to scream irately is the fact that he couldn’t kill it when he had the chance, that he was to weak to avenge the sweet mother that smiled at him and sang at him when he couldn’t sleep.)
Rukia is talking to her mother-in-law, telling the tomb about the wedding and the way she had tripped as she walked down the aisle, and how Renji kept on coming over to steal the leftovers and so many other mundane things; filling the silence she knows he hates so much (and he loves her for that). A pointless act, for she knows as well as he does that his mother’s soul was consumed on that rainy day, a costly exchange for his own life.
The rain falls harder, as if to haunt his conscience even more; and when Rukia finally is quiet and squeezes his hand softly, he swears he’ll somehow (someday) make it up to his mother.
After all, he’s not alone anymore.
Now, let's end the rambling. I've finally put myself to write Bleach fic again, even when it's just to stay away from my incoming HP Hannah A. fic for a while. It's not quite that good, but oh well, it could be worse. (And for the life of it, but I can't remember the name of the hollow that killed Ichigo's mom... Fisher something?)
Author:
nekareTitle: Guilt
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word Count: 250
Spoilers: Just before the Soul Society Arc.
Ichigo still feels guilty about his mother’s death, and most probably, he always will. As he stands under the light drizzle that has flatten his rebellious hair to his skull, Rukia’s fingers intertwined with his and the tombstone in front of him painted with the endless grey of the cemetery; he can’t help but let the guilt gnaw at his entrails, making him raw with the bile of his anger at himself and a small part to the hollow who took her life away.
(What makes him want to scream irately is the fact that he couldn’t kill it when he had the chance, that he was to weak to avenge the sweet mother that smiled at him and sang at him when he couldn’t sleep.)
Rukia is talking to her mother-in-law, telling the tomb about the wedding and the way she had tripped as she walked down the aisle, and how Renji kept on coming over to steal the leftovers and so many other mundane things; filling the silence she knows he hates so much (and he loves her for that). A pointless act, for she knows as well as he does that his mother’s soul was consumed on that rainy day, a costly exchange for his own life.
The rain falls harder, as if to haunt his conscience even more; and when Rukia finally is quiet and squeezes his hand softly, he swears he’ll somehow (someday) make it up to his mother.
After all, he’s not alone anymore.