040108 - It's Just Who I Am
************************************************************
Logging Started: 4-01-2008 6:26:52 PM
------------------------------------------------------------
-=[Yellow Hill - Seireitei]=----------------------------------------------------
Golden forever climbing up past the rooftops, the hill is covered knee-high in millions, millions of yellow daisies. They nod and bow to each other and when the wind comes rolling they kowtow to the sun in tumbling waves, praying to the East or to the West or to the nobleman's daughter throwing her blue hat at the sky: to anything at all that lives.
-=[Players]=- -=[Things]=-
Hanatarou
Shinji
-=[Obvious Exits]=--------------------------------------------------------------
The Glories (G) The Glories - Seireitei
Around twilight the strange things begin happening, but it's very nearly a holiday and very nearly no one notices. Besides, the strange things are small, and quickly gone, and problems that vanish are as good as problems resolved.
The sky was dark purple by the time a figure made its way up the hill, thin as a blade but bent like a reed in the wind. The bright yellow hill had become a dark indigo washed with an occasion drop of dim, dirty yellow, light reflected on leaves that came from the massive city on the hill's shoulder. What noise the figure made as it moved beneath a sky without stars was nothing more than the suppressed susurration of petals and stems scratching gently at fabric. It was silent when it took a seat under the arms of a sprawling oak and settled back into the shifting shadows.
This place was all the same, forever and ever. He despaired because it was the same, was relieved because it was the same. With his long fingers wrapped around the pommel of his zanpakutou and his chin propped on his pommel, he stared out at Seireitei and ignored the way his arm bled into his torn sleeve. He'd left the remains of a hollow in the dangai just before the gate, blood at the senkaimon gate, blood on his way here, but he was wholly unconcerned. For all that he looked unseated in his plain shihakusho, with so much of his reiatsu concealed, his demeanor might have given him away for an imposter in a heartbeat.
If he'd come to visit with the people, and not the landscape.
It was by mere chance that Hanatarou was out this far from the the Municipal District, and normally he wouldn't even still be wandering about at this time unless he was working a late shift. It was due to his busy shifts recently that he'd decided to make use of what spare time he found after having worked most of the day. He had wanted to purchase some tea for Hinamori so that they'd have something to sip during her next counseling session. The little medic was glad that he could offer his assistance, and he actually found this latest assignment almost enjoyable.
Coming out this far had given him reminder of just how long it'd been since he'd last been able to get out for a while. It wasn't all that late yet, perhaps just a little longer. True, the scenery would have been more eye-appealing were it accented by the light of day, but even with the darkness of night the Hill bore its own air of serenity. Hanatarou breathed a heavy sigh as if to expel the weariness of the day's work from his body. His sandaled feet stepped softly along the flowers, and the Shinigami tried his best to avoid trampling the innocent little daisies that practically covered the hill they helped name. Not even halfway up did Hanatarou pause as he sensed that he wasn't the only one here. This was only after noticing the odd discoloration amongst a few of the flowers, wet with a slightly sticky consistancy, he found, once he knelt down to touch it with a finger. He already guessed what it might be even before he smelled it. "...oh dear..." he murmured, lifting his head to look further. His senses helped to pinpoint where, and he began to jog towards the direction of the oak tree.
"Ah!" he gasped as soon as he was able to make out the figure resting against the tree, almost as if he hadn't really been expecting to find anyone. He stumbled a couple of steps, thankfully managing not to go bowling over completely. "-are you all right..?!" he spoke with urgency, and yet kept his tones just a notch above a whisper as if afraid to disturb someone.
There was always one. He felt like he should work up some kind of theory of baiting to explain it. If he should go out of his way to avoid the whole society of Seireitei, something, somehow would draw out someone young and lead them by the lip to his heels. Never once had it been one of those violent types, nor the militant types, nor the uptight, law-spouting types. Was it something about himself personally, or just who he'd once been?
Shadows under the tree suddenly became a living being when he turned his head and ducked his shoulders to peer in the direction that voice had come from. Because his hair was black, it was the white collar of his shihakushou and the white of his eyes that gave his figure any immediate definition. Those eyes went thinner, until they became chalky half-almonds underlining the black shelf of his bangs. When he spoke, he let his stare relax. Another one, just like the others. "Nan ya? There any reason I shouldn't be?"
A lamb. This one was a lamb. Though he cautioned himself against believing too strongly in first impressions, this first impression was a strong one. "Slow down, ya gonna slip in the dark."
The small Shinigami clasped his hands in front of himself nervously as he obligingly slowed his steps the closer he came to the shadowy figure. He paused perhaps several feet from the other, fidgeting in place. Even at this proximity it was hard to make out any details of the other. The dialect used almost confused him, but at least the man's casual demeanor helped to calm the slightly flustered medic some.
"I- er.... well, I noticed a trail of blood along this way, sir, so I was only concerned..." Hanatarou clarified, glancing back as if to double-check for himself. It would have been more helpful were there an adequate source of light to go by. Shaking his head, the young man glances back at the other. "Are you hurt, sir? It's probably not anything I should be bothered with, but I can't just leave something be if I know a person's injured..."
The shadow seemed to take a moment to think about this while long fingers unwound and rewound about the grip of the zanpakutou propped up between its knees, but a kind of casual code of country politeness didn't allow Hanatarou to wait for long. "Honnara...because you're a Good Samaritan at heart...."
Even though there was no need for it, he stretched out his left arm in the dark and offered it, palm down and wrist limp, un-threatening, to the young man. The sleeves were much-torn, and by his guess the row of gashes were quite long, but they weren't incredibly deep, and for all that he was nothing but bones and tendon and spit and skin, he knew how much it would take to make him come apart, and this was no danger.
"Ain't this a strange place t'be goin' alone?" he wondered, as the first of the stars appeared overhead.
Despite it being a casual gesture, Hanatarou found himself tensing in spite of himself. His more medically inclined senses kicked in once he was able to get a better look at the arm that was extended, and he frowned at the marks that marred the skin. He stepped forward, eyes glancing towards the man again and perhaps a second longer on the weapon now that he noticed it, but he went to kneel there in front of the other, his hands that had been previously nervous in behaviour moving with practised intent as he carefully but firmly took hold of the injured arm.
"I could ask you the same thing," Hanatarou replied with a faint smile, and he shifted his attention back to studying the wounds. He had guessed what had been the cause of the wound, and now his senses confirmed it, prompting a small frown. "What division are you...?" he asked as he slipped his pack over his head, unzipping it so he could dig out his antiseptics. The Shinigami medic began with cleansing the bloody gashes to prevent infection. True the wounds weren't that bad, but it could get considerably worse if not treated properly. "This might sting a little," he cautioned out of habit.
It stung. He had a bad habit of wrinkling up one side of his face when he didn't like something--a situation, a person, a sensation.... He did it then, but only that, and watched the strange juxtaposition of sure, steady fingers on a nervous, self-conscious person.
Holding his arm out without flinching or tiring, the stranger let his head cock to the side and answered, "Fifth," with unthinking honesty. "We're practically cousins." Anyone else would have said that made them neighbors. His fingertips tapped against the hilt of his zanpakutou as he watched, the hand recalling a song the ears weren't hearing, but there was no threat in that gesture or in any of his other mannerisms. He seemed a little tired, more than anything else. "Do ya carry that thing everywhere y'go? Ain't that kinda gloomy, always lookin' for walkin' wounded?"
Hanatarou nodded, allowing a glance back at the man, not that he expected for recognition to click. It was hard to really be well acquainted with others from different divisions unless you'd known them from the academy or happened to be dispatched on similar missions. Or, in the case of the Fourth, if one was prone to getting themselves injured often. "Were you fighting hollows alone?" he asked, arching a brow at him before finishing with one more swab of gauze over the wounds. He set them aside in a separate pouch for soiled materials, then raised his hands back over the man's arm so that he could begin mending the gaping flesh by use of kidou.
"...well, most of the time, anyway..." he said in response to the question asked him. "It's not like I'm looking for people that are wounded, but it's my job to assist those I find that are..." He smiled weakly. "I...I'm just glad I can be of help."
He flexed the fingers of his left arm one by one, watching the tendons under his skin coil and soften. He was being careful, so damn careful, to hold the hollow in one hand while this shinigami smeared reiatsu all over the other hand. It took more fine control and iron strength of mind to keep the two apart than most kidou spells he could think of. There was black all around the edges of his eyes, reaching for control, but he ran the hole in his tongue along the back of his teeth and just said, "Every hollow y'fight, y'fight alone. Don't matter who's standin' there with ya when it happens." But this young man was one of Unohana's, so he wouldn't know. It was hard to be impatient with a person like this.
"But ain't there no time y'ain't workin'? Don'tcha ever put down all that gear an' step atta yerself for a while?"
Since the wounds weren't too deep it didn't take too long to heal them up. Such treatment didn't require extreme concentration, which is why once or twice Hanatarou glanced back at the man almost curiously. He wanted to say it was nothing, but for a moment he'd thought to have felt something strange about the other- familiar in a way, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was gone just as quickly, so the medic decided to brush it off as his imagination for the time being.
"....oh..." he said quietly, even though he wasn't really sure how that made any sense if one was dispatched as a squad, but then he knew it wasn't in his place to ask. "Most of my shifts are long and we have more responsibilities than just health related. But even when I do have time off, it's hard to completely stand down from the role I've taken. It's.... well... it's a part of who I am." He nodded as he studied the arm. "Just about finished here..."
Metal clicked against the back of the stranger's teeth, sharp and thoughtful.
Left arm steady, he let his zanpakutou lean against his right shoulder and slipped the fingers of his good hand into the black folds of his uniform. The cellphone he pulled out was some dark colour, impossible to guess in the newly-fallen gloom. A small strap of braided ribbon hung from it, with three bright gold bells at the end. When he lifted the phone, the bells swung but made no sound.
"Thanks for th'help," he said. With his thumb pushing up the zanpakutou's guard just enough to bare an inch of blade, the cord of bells was cut loose. He caught them in his right palm before they fell into the grass and were lost. As they dangled from his delicately-arched fingers, he offered them over the arm being healed.
"Eh?" Blinking, the Shinigami medic glanced at the phone, and moreso the string of silent bells as they were first cut free and then held out to him. Slowly Hanatarou let the spell subside, the focused energy dwindling to nothing. He smiled at his accomplishment, pulling the back of a hand across his forehead. "Oh, you don't need to..." he began, but after seeing all the trouble the man went through to remove the things- well, it wasn't all that much trouble but it would be a bit of a pain to replace them, Hanatarou took the cord of dangling bells in his other hand. Again he smiled, a softer smile, one that said much in terms of his gratitude, even if it was such a small thing. "You're welcome," he said, bowing his head, his fingers curling around the bells cupped in his palm.
"On one condition," Hanatarou was cautioned, as the bells were handed over. He said 'one,' but he was holding up two fingers. "Ya gotta wear them everywhere y'go. Even if it's just t'get up for water in the middle of t'night. Don't matter if ya hide 'em or not, just take 'em with ya. And, no matter what happens, y'don't give 'em to /no one/. Get me? If y'ignore these conditions, t'luck they bring ya will turn inta bad luck, two times over. Got it?" As casual as his dialect was, the severity of the stare he was using as he handed those conditions out would warrant an equally-severe promise. These bells weren't a token gift, they had some kind of worth, and whatever that worth was, it wasn't a joking matter.
It was enough to make Hanatarou wonder just who this was he had helped, and what could possibly befall him should he not heed the warning given. Wide eyes looked at the other anxiously, and then glanced down at the trio of bells resting in his palm before returning his gaze to the man and the fingers held up. One? Or two? Regardless, he listened.
Jerkily he nodded his head, clasping the bells close as if dropping them would mean death. It had certainly sounded dire enough from what he was told just then that Hanatarou wasn't about to discount him for it. "H-hai..! Understood!" he stammered, bobbing his head as if to punctuate his words.
"Good." Although he gave one last glance in the direction of the bells in Hanatarou's hands, he seemed confident about the gift. No regrets when giving away something apparently so valuable to him?
Or maybe it was just valuable in general. That was a different sort of thing.
Using his zanpakutou like a cane to help him to his feet again, Shinji straightened his back out and stretched from his toes to the knuckles of the hands he wrung up towards the sky, joints and sinew popping gratefully. "Aaahn~ that feels good. Sittin' still too long ain't good for ya." He relaxed into the slight stoop of those who are little too thin for their own height, jabbing his zanpakutou through his obi and yawning. Cold metal flickered behind his teeth briefly-- a glint, gone again.
"Remember what ya promised me, cousin," he advised, roughly rubbing the medic's hair into a bird's nest as he shuffled past him. "An' remember the rest a' what y'said, too." As he started back down the hill in a different direction from the one he'd taken up, it felt good to forgive himself for not completely standing down.
Shinji gave you Amaterasu's Necklace.
The bells hanging at the end of what was once a whole necklace glint with a deep, strong gold light as they change hands.
================================ TP/IC Events ================================
Message: 4/2 Posted Author
ATTN Vizard Wed Apr 02 Benihime
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hanatarou is now in possession of Amaterasu's Necklace. 'No harm, no foul' rules have been transferred. You know the rest.
==============================================================================
------------------------------------------------------------
Logging Stopped: 4-01-2008 11:36:04 PM
************************************************************