Musings of the Muse
Title: Musings of the Muse
Author:
green_amberjade
Prompt: 43. Music
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Uryuu Ishida/Cirucci Thunderwitch
Summary: For twenty years he lived in a hell of her making.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Suicide, some cussing on the part of Cirucci.
"Sir?" The voice was gentle, as was the hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. "It's time to let go."
To my Quincy,
By now, you will have found me. If you expect me to apologize, then you're more of an idiot than our twenty years together ever indicated.
Uryuu's mouth quirked up in a humourless smile. As if he could let go now that his wife had captured him fast and tight in her vicious claws. One of the medics reached out to touch her pale shoulder, instantly causing Uryuu's hands to tighten around his wife's body. Cirucci hadn't liked being touched by strangers. Her green lips kissed his collarbone as her head nestled in the crock of his neck.
You're free to go screw that Inoue bitch now. You're a free man, as far as the world's concerned. Just a small request from your deceased wife - don't let her be the mother of my children. The thought of her kissing their foreheads, laughing with them, and watching my babies grow up - it's almost enough to make me reconsider. But it's too late for Odile now, isn't it Quincy? It's always too late for Odile.
Twenty Years Ago:
She was wearing white. She was always wearing white. He suspected that it was some secret ploy of hers to mask the innocence that she had long ago lost. She probably would have gotten away with it if her eyes hadn't been too knowing and if her lips hadn't held that angry curl.
Her curly, black hair was swept up in an elaborate bun, kept together by a purple rose pin. It was the only other hint of colour on her person, and it immediately drew all attention to her, just as she had known it would.
She stood off to the side of the dancers, her eyes intent on him as he played his cello for the annual charity banquet for the hospital. He had only agreed to play because it was his father's hospital and first impressions must be kept up. Plus, his father had agreed to leave him alone for the rest of the year, if he only played at this one event. A small sacrifice for the privacy of a whole year.
Rukia Kuchiki, an old friend from the private school, which he had attended since he was in primary school to the day he graduated university, was playing the piano behind him. The heiress of a vast fortune gained from the stock market and a supposed descent from an ancient Japanese Emperor, Rukia had the rare position of being his best friend, if her position could even be called that. She had already spotted the eyes that were focused upon her partner, and she had shot him a knowing smirk several times. At one point, she had even taken the trouble to hiss at him: "Somebody's going to get laid tonight", which almost caused him to drop his cello.
Glaring at her, he allowed his eyes for the first time to meet those of the young woman. For a few moments, there was nothing else but the message in her cold eyes.
"So, is this it for Mr. Uryuu Ishida?" Rukia asked softly when they were taking a break for Ryuuken Ishida's grand speech to the hospital benefactors. "Has he finally fallen in love?"
He shook his head, his eyes finding the young woman again. "No. It's only a business transaction."
xXx
You've come a long way from where you were when I first stumbled across you. Do you remember those flimsy little pieces you used to write? They were so utterly disgusting and pathetic. To think that that was all that you were able to write whenever you thought of her - your beloved soul mate.
You know as well as I that if it hadn't been for me, she would have never even looked you in the face, being too caught up in stalking Kuchiki's boy-toy. You would never have been able to do her if it hadn't been for me, my darling Quincy. Aren't you lucky to have a wonderful wife? Opps. Wrong tense. Silly me.
xXx
19 years ago:
Uryuu had always believed that there would never be a time of day when Orihime Inoue would not be on the forefront of his mind. He had met the cheerful young woman through Rukia and over the course of several more meetings, he had fallen head over heels for her sweet nature, her vast imagination and her quiet courage.
Sadly, Miss Inoue barely even realized that he existed being fixated on Ichigo Kurosaki, who had his eyes firmly placed on Rukia, who remained oblivious to the message firmly displayed on his face.
It was Rukia who suggested that Uryuu should attempt to write Orihime a song about his great, undying love (her words, not his) and the only reason that she had suggested that was because she was sick and tired of hearing words meant for somebody else. And lo, he had begun writing.
It was Cirucci who had been the first to hear his heart, simply because she had been there at the time, and she had reacted less than favourably.
Cirucci Thunderwitch looked like she was in extreme pain. Uryuu frowned at her as he pulled his bow away from the strings of his cello.
"Is there a problem, Miss Thunderwitch?"
Lips that could and had drawn out the secrets of many an unsuspecting victim were stretched thin. "Are you attempting to be... sentimental, Quincy?" Mockery lay thick in her voice. She leaned forward in her seat. "A word of advice - if you ever want anyone to listen to you, stop playing sunshine and roses. Nobody believes in that idea anymore."
"Then, what do they believe in, Miss Thunderwitch? Seeing as you're an expert in the area."
The smile that came over her face made him think of a panther. "Death, destruction, despair. Those are the only things that can lead to a moment of pure passion these days. It's the only thing that this heartless society can feel now."
"Indeed."
She leaned forward and touched his arm. "Write about your despair and nobody will ever be able to pass you over again." Her poisonous lips brushed his cheek. "Come Quincy, show me your anger..."
"My name is Uryuu..." He tried to tell her as she peeled back his shirt.
She made a noise that indicated that she thought that this was the funniest thing in the world. She peered up at him from under her lashes. "And mine, Quincy, is Cirucci... You may refer to me as such."
His hands were on her waist, his instrument forgotten. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"But we must, if you ever wish to gain the hand of that strumpet." Her lips pressed against his.
For a moment, there was a coldness in his belly and then, nothing.
xXx
I was your muse, Quincy. You can hardly deny it. It was I who caused you the most anger. It was I who denied you your Odette. Your lovely, pure Orihime. But I made you into something beautiful Quincy. Something more beautiful than her.
xXx
Ten Years Ago:
"Well, Quincy?" Cirucci looked extremely fresh for someone who had only had three hours of sleep. She smiled brightly as the waiter placed her tea on the table. "Whatever have you brought me out for?" She leaned forward, her eyes displaying her vicious nature. "Aren't you supposed to be with the strumpet?"
Uryuu sat the small velvet box on the middle of the table. "She didn't accept."
"Didn't she?" Cirucci's plump lips curled up. "Who would have thought that the great Inoue would have let you go... Kurosaki must have looked at her today. " She remarked off-handedly. She took up her tea and slowly sipped the warm liquid, her eyelashes gracing her cheeks. "She's a fool. Denying a man as famous as you..." Her eyes shot at him. "When do you plan to drag your pathetic carcass back to her?"
He never knew quite why he did it. Perhaps it was because in a way, she had made him famous by introducing him to her despair. Perhaps it was because Orihime had refused him because they couldn't hurt Cirucci that way. Most likely it was because he had known that she would never accept.
He pushed the small box toward her. "What about you?"
Cirucci didn't say anything at first.
She simply opened the box, put the ring on her finger and smiled a smile dripping with poison.
"I thought you'd never ask." Her angry lips pressed against his own and left them burning.
xXx
We've been married for ten years, Quincy and we met ten years before that. Twenty years of delicious hell. I simply can't think of anyone else who I would rather have suffered with. Ten years to meet you and ten years to keep you... twenty years in total.
It seems so short, now that I think about it.
Sasuke will probably want to know why. Lie your ass off Quincy. Under no circumstances is he to believe that this was his fault. And don't you dare let that thing blacken his memory of me. Grant me that at least.
Hatsumi is probably too small to remember me... When she asks about me, tell her that I love her.
Or actually, get Rukia to talk to them. She can lie better than you.
xXx
Two years ago:
Cirucci's smile looked like it was frozen to her face. She tugged on her small son's wrist and almost dragged him away from the honey-haired woman.
"Miss Inoue," Cirucci pulled her son behind her and placed a hand on her round stomach in a protective gesture. "I didn't realize that you would be here tonight."
The other woman smiled. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? And please, call me Orihime." Her eyes fell on the smiling child attached to Cirucci's leg. "He's beautiful. He looks just like Uryuu."
Cirucci pulled her child up onto the side of her hip. "You... have no children?"
Orihime shook her head. "No. I never married." Her eyes drifted over to the side where a black haired woman was busying congratulating Uryuu on his performance, closely tailed by a tall man with bleached hair.
"Pity." Cirucci planted a kiss on her son's forehead, her eyes filled with triumph. Warmth filled her as Sasuke kissed her cheek with all the love a child could carry for his mother. She looked up to see Orihime's eyes on them and she smiled the kindest and sweetest smile that her lips could produce. "Better luck next time, I suppose."
She walked away to her husband and kissed him in a soul searing kiss.
xXx
I suppose that you're dying to know why I'm doing this. The answer is quite simple, dearest.
You know me Quincy, I would much rather die and forever be your muse, than live one more day as your wife.
xXx
Present day:
She looked as lovely as she always did, dressed in her white dress and holding a purple rose in her hand. The poison had been wiped from her lips and she looked as if she were sleeping. Only her cold flesh against his mouth proved otherwise.
He didn't know how long he stood over her grave marker before a hand reached out and touched his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Uryuu." Orihime smiled at him. "I'm here if you need me."
She looked the same as she always had, this girl he had loved for so long, but he was too changed now to enjoy this sudden freedom to pursue her. All he could see now was Cirucci with her cruel smile giving him a knowing look.
He could see Rukia hugging his bawling son and explaining to him that his mother had been very sick for quite awhile and that she had died from that. Surprisingly, Rukia hadn't been lying about a sickness. Cirucci had been slowly dying from a type of cancer since before he had ever met her. The doctors had given her five years. She had beat them by twenty. It made her suicide a bit more understandable but not that much.
If she were here beside him now, she would have raised her head high in the air and demanded that he put every disgusting emotion running through his body into his cello. As always, when he was left panting in exhaustion and devoid of anything, she would smile that angry, bitter smile of hers and kiss him hard on the mouth.
And since I suppose you must know, you were my missing heart, Quincy. I suspect I'll miss you where I'm going.
"Goodbye Miss Inoue." He walked away from her warm hand and her open embrace, and to his children.
Somewhere, he suspected that Cirucci was smiling from the bottom of her missing heart.
Soon that smile that he never saw would be heard all around the world as his hands touched the bow and strings once more.
Author:
green_amberjade
Prompt: 43. Music
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Uryuu Ishida/Cirucci Thunderwitch
Summary: For twenty years he lived in a hell of her making.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Suicide, some cussing on the part of Cirucci.
"Sir?" The voice was gentle, as was the hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. "It's time to let go."
To my Quincy,
By now, you will have found me. If you expect me to apologize, then you're more of an idiot than our twenty years together ever indicated.
Uryuu's mouth quirked up in a humourless smile. As if he could let go now that his wife had captured him fast and tight in her vicious claws. One of the medics reached out to touch her pale shoulder, instantly causing Uryuu's hands to tighten around his wife's body. Cirucci hadn't liked being touched by strangers. Her green lips kissed his collarbone as her head nestled in the crock of his neck.
You're free to go screw that Inoue bitch now. You're a free man, as far as the world's concerned. Just a small request from your deceased wife - don't let her be the mother of my children. The thought of her kissing their foreheads, laughing with them, and watching my babies grow up - it's almost enough to make me reconsider. But it's too late for Odile now, isn't it Quincy? It's always too late for Odile.
Twenty Years Ago:
She was wearing white. She was always wearing white. He suspected that it was some secret ploy of hers to mask the innocence that she had long ago lost. She probably would have gotten away with it if her eyes hadn't been too knowing and if her lips hadn't held that angry curl.
Her curly, black hair was swept up in an elaborate bun, kept together by a purple rose pin. It was the only other hint of colour on her person, and it immediately drew all attention to her, just as she had known it would.
She stood off to the side of the dancers, her eyes intent on him as he played his cello for the annual charity banquet for the hospital. He had only agreed to play because it was his father's hospital and first impressions must be kept up. Plus, his father had agreed to leave him alone for the rest of the year, if he only played at this one event. A small sacrifice for the privacy of a whole year.
Rukia Kuchiki, an old friend from the private school, which he had attended since he was in primary school to the day he graduated university, was playing the piano behind him. The heiress of a vast fortune gained from the stock market and a supposed descent from an ancient Japanese Emperor, Rukia had the rare position of being his best friend, if her position could even be called that. She had already spotted the eyes that were focused upon her partner, and she had shot him a knowing smirk several times. At one point, she had even taken the trouble to hiss at him: "Somebody's going to get laid tonight", which almost caused him to drop his cello.
Glaring at her, he allowed his eyes for the first time to meet those of the young woman. For a few moments, there was nothing else but the message in her cold eyes.
"So, is this it for Mr. Uryuu Ishida?" Rukia asked softly when they were taking a break for Ryuuken Ishida's grand speech to the hospital benefactors. "Has he finally fallen in love?"
He shook his head, his eyes finding the young woman again. "No. It's only a business transaction."
xXx
You've come a long way from where you were when I first stumbled across you. Do you remember those flimsy little pieces you used to write? They were so utterly disgusting and pathetic. To think that that was all that you were able to write whenever you thought of her - your beloved soul mate.
You know as well as I that if it hadn't been for me, she would have never even looked you in the face, being too caught up in stalking Kuchiki's boy-toy. You would never have been able to do her if it hadn't been for me, my darling Quincy. Aren't you lucky to have a wonderful wife? Opps. Wrong tense. Silly me.
xXx
19 years ago:
Uryuu had always believed that there would never be a time of day when Orihime Inoue would not be on the forefront of his mind. He had met the cheerful young woman through Rukia and over the course of several more meetings, he had fallen head over heels for her sweet nature, her vast imagination and her quiet courage.
Sadly, Miss Inoue barely even realized that he existed being fixated on Ichigo Kurosaki, who had his eyes firmly placed on Rukia, who remained oblivious to the message firmly displayed on his face.
It was Rukia who suggested that Uryuu should attempt to write Orihime a song about his great, undying love (her words, not his) and the only reason that she had suggested that was because she was sick and tired of hearing words meant for somebody else. And lo, he had begun writing.
It was Cirucci who had been the first to hear his heart, simply because she had been there at the time, and she had reacted less than favourably.
Cirucci Thunderwitch looked like she was in extreme pain. Uryuu frowned at her as he pulled his bow away from the strings of his cello.
"Is there a problem, Miss Thunderwitch?"
Lips that could and had drawn out the secrets of many an unsuspecting victim were stretched thin. "Are you attempting to be... sentimental, Quincy?" Mockery lay thick in her voice. She leaned forward in her seat. "A word of advice - if you ever want anyone to listen to you, stop playing sunshine and roses. Nobody believes in that idea anymore."
"Then, what do they believe in, Miss Thunderwitch? Seeing as you're an expert in the area."
The smile that came over her face made him think of a panther. "Death, destruction, despair. Those are the only things that can lead to a moment of pure passion these days. It's the only thing that this heartless society can feel now."
"Indeed."
She leaned forward and touched his arm. "Write about your despair and nobody will ever be able to pass you over again." Her poisonous lips brushed his cheek. "Come Quincy, show me your anger..."
"My name is Uryuu..." He tried to tell her as she peeled back his shirt.
She made a noise that indicated that she thought that this was the funniest thing in the world. She peered up at him from under her lashes. "And mine, Quincy, is Cirucci... You may refer to me as such."
His hands were on her waist, his instrument forgotten. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"But we must, if you ever wish to gain the hand of that strumpet." Her lips pressed against his.
For a moment, there was a coldness in his belly and then, nothing.
xXx
I was your muse, Quincy. You can hardly deny it. It was I who caused you the most anger. It was I who denied you your Odette. Your lovely, pure Orihime. But I made you into something beautiful Quincy. Something more beautiful than her.
xXx
Ten Years Ago:
"Well, Quincy?" Cirucci looked extremely fresh for someone who had only had three hours of sleep. She smiled brightly as the waiter placed her tea on the table. "Whatever have you brought me out for?" She leaned forward, her eyes displaying her vicious nature. "Aren't you supposed to be with the strumpet?"
Uryuu sat the small velvet box on the middle of the table. "She didn't accept."
"Didn't she?" Cirucci's plump lips curled up. "Who would have thought that the great Inoue would have let you go... Kurosaki must have looked at her today. " She remarked off-handedly. She took up her tea and slowly sipped the warm liquid, her eyelashes gracing her cheeks. "She's a fool. Denying a man as famous as you..." Her eyes shot at him. "When do you plan to drag your pathetic carcass back to her?"
He never knew quite why he did it. Perhaps it was because in a way, she had made him famous by introducing him to her despair. Perhaps it was because Orihime had refused him because they couldn't hurt Cirucci that way. Most likely it was because he had known that she would never accept.
He pushed the small box toward her. "What about you?"
Cirucci didn't say anything at first.
She simply opened the box, put the ring on her finger and smiled a smile dripping with poison.
"I thought you'd never ask." Her angry lips pressed against his own and left them burning.
xXx
We've been married for ten years, Quincy and we met ten years before that. Twenty years of delicious hell. I simply can't think of anyone else who I would rather have suffered with. Ten years to meet you and ten years to keep you... twenty years in total.
It seems so short, now that I think about it.
Sasuke will probably want to know why. Lie your ass off Quincy. Under no circumstances is he to believe that this was his fault. And don't you dare let that thing blacken his memory of me. Grant me that at least.
Hatsumi is probably too small to remember me... When she asks about me, tell her that I love her.
Or actually, get Rukia to talk to them. She can lie better than you.
xXx
Two years ago:
Cirucci's smile looked like it was frozen to her face. She tugged on her small son's wrist and almost dragged him away from the honey-haired woman.
"Miss Inoue," Cirucci pulled her son behind her and placed a hand on her round stomach in a protective gesture. "I didn't realize that you would be here tonight."
The other woman smiled. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? And please, call me Orihime." Her eyes fell on the smiling child attached to Cirucci's leg. "He's beautiful. He looks just like Uryuu."
Cirucci pulled her child up onto the side of her hip. "You... have no children?"
Orihime shook her head. "No. I never married." Her eyes drifted over to the side where a black haired woman was busying congratulating Uryuu on his performance, closely tailed by a tall man with bleached hair.
"Pity." Cirucci planted a kiss on her son's forehead, her eyes filled with triumph. Warmth filled her as Sasuke kissed her cheek with all the love a child could carry for his mother. She looked up to see Orihime's eyes on them and she smiled the kindest and sweetest smile that her lips could produce. "Better luck next time, I suppose."
She walked away to her husband and kissed him in a soul searing kiss.
xXx
I suppose that you're dying to know why I'm doing this. The answer is quite simple, dearest.
You know me Quincy, I would much rather die and forever be your muse, than live one more day as your wife.
xXx
Present day:
She looked as lovely as she always did, dressed in her white dress and holding a purple rose in her hand. The poison had been wiped from her lips and she looked as if she were sleeping. Only her cold flesh against his mouth proved otherwise.
He didn't know how long he stood over her grave marker before a hand reached out and touched his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Uryuu." Orihime smiled at him. "I'm here if you need me."
She looked the same as she always had, this girl he had loved for so long, but he was too changed now to enjoy this sudden freedom to pursue her. All he could see now was Cirucci with her cruel smile giving him a knowing look.
He could see Rukia hugging his bawling son and explaining to him that his mother had been very sick for quite awhile and that she had died from that. Surprisingly, Rukia hadn't been lying about a sickness. Cirucci had been slowly dying from a type of cancer since before he had ever met her. The doctors had given her five years. She had beat them by twenty. It made her suicide a bit more understandable but not that much.
If she were here beside him now, she would have raised her head high in the air and demanded that he put every disgusting emotion running through his body into his cello. As always, when he was left panting in exhaustion and devoid of anything, she would smile that angry, bitter smile of hers and kiss him hard on the mouth.
And since I suppose you must know, you were my missing heart, Quincy. I suspect I'll miss you where I'm going.
"Goodbye Miss Inoue." He walked away from her warm hand and her open embrace, and to his children.
Somewhere, he suspected that Cirucci was smiling from the bottom of her missing heart.
Soon that smile that he never saw would be heard all around the world as his hands touched the bow and strings once more.