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Memories in the Rain

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Pippin4242
Post subject: Memories in the Rain
Posted: Wed 04 Apr , 2007 11:22 pm
Hasta la victoria, siempre
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Joined: Sun 13 Mar , 2005 7:49 pm
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Clichéd title or what? I wrote this because thirteenth division doesn't get enough angst or something? It probably doesn't make sense, even to Bleach fans who have watched episode forty-nine. Insanely shippy. Should be reconsigned to the imagination box from whence it came



at first there is nothing
then
thunder fills me like my own power
dissipating into rain, rain, dripping at the window
oh.
and I am warmsoftdry
hairy
his hairy arm brushes my jaw
it is raining
and he is holding me
and he is asleep
when did I get here?
thunder!
(real thunder)
jumping despite myself
I nuzzle closer
he stirs and
-in his sleep-
he lifts me without knowing
I do not struggle

Memories ripple, their dark pool stirred by the falling water.

It was on a rainy night, of course.
Raindrops blossomed on the lake
The leaves were refreshed
I couldn't be angry at the leaves. They didn't know.
The adrenaline left my body then, and
A dull ache. As if I had been punched in the stomach.
I wanted to be sick. I think it would have helped.
In any case the fire in my lungs-
should have cleansed me, but it couldn't.
Nothing on my hands. No blood. The rain washed my blood away.
It wasn't mine that mattered.
(My veins were filled with rainwater)
No, in keeping my hands clean I dirtied them
irretrievably.
A horrible, messy end.
(The rain lied and said it wasn't-
washing his blood into the earth
I knew the plants would grow strong through his pain and
already
so soon!
I knew that anything I planted there would grow in the fertile soil
in his memory and flesh)
And the one true testimony to his ridiculous end
was borne away by a child
not half his size
Rukia, you are the rain.

Thirteen is inauspicious, I said back then
I joked it should be fourteen
after me.

I wanted
I wanted-
to find her, tell her,
throw myself at her feet.
See the boy.
Leave myself to their mercy.
but
with every step my sodden sandals
dragged me down into the earth
where his blood had fled.
My clothes stuck to me. I was drowning where I stood.
If I cried it wouldn't matter
The rain could swallow that too.
I saw the girl embark
wanting to follow her
I waited until she left my vision and then I threw back my head
and screamed.

Darkness blotted out the edges of my vision.
I couldn't move but tremble.
I was swaying in the wind, I was a hundred feet tall and as wide as the land my leaves caught the water and I was the storm
I shrieked and sobbed and fell forward
(ruining my coat, I might add, for even now money matters)
and I spilt my blood into the earth that it might join his
the smallest sacrifice I could make, and far too late
I closed my eyes.

That night
(oh, that night)
I remember still
warm hands
standing, without seeing
naked, stripped bare of clothes that burnt with rainwater to my icy flesh
the warmth
as water gave me its love again
and I could breathe
and I cried and sobbed and called his name
and the strong fingers worked the mud from my hair
and there was blood in the water
swirling on the surface
and I was absurdly glad that it hadn't faded.
Tea was pressed into my hands
(I was dry? These clothes were not mine)
and I knew nothing more than to drink deeply
and feel my blood begin to flow once more.
That night, I stayed in his bed. His hand caressed my head
(his other pressed me to him)
and my feet were warm upon his legs
(they had to throw the socks away).
And every time I heard the rain my tears began to flow
with a direct link to my eyes, it seems,
for there was no concious decision to break
down.
but there we are.
Eventually,
the rain stopped.
And there was a morning. And bright sun.
And his hands, giving me hot tea.
And never a word, for we did not need to speak.
My toes felt for the edge of the mat
and I knew that they were warm
(and thought of those that would never be warm again).
I was offered a hand.
I took it. Stood. Felt the air move through the room.
(I took him in my arms and kissed him)
And then I led my division as only I knew how.

It was hard,
but the one who had departed was a luxury in my life, after all.
I gave up small things, like sick leave
and somehow
life went on.

(On some rainy nights I wake to discover that somehow I am no longer in my bed, alone. For this I am eternally grateful, and I still have not said thank you).

_________________

Avatar is a male me, drawn by a very close friend. Just don't ask why.


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Sidonzo
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Posted: Thu 05 Apr , 2007 12:11 am
Everything Is Numb
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Aaah! This is beautifully chill-inducing! I LOVE it! :D I think this is one of the saddest parts of the whole series! Poor Rukia!! :bawl:

~Sid


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Pippin4242
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Posted: Thu 05 Apr , 2007 12:26 am
Hasta la victoria, siempre
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Poor Rukia? Ukitake is coughing up chunks of lung here, and you say poor RUKIA?!? :P
I'm glad you liked it. :D
For a minute I thought I hadn't made it obvious who it was about (poor RUKIA?) but I went back through and decided that it was probably fairly clear (led my division/in keeping my hands clean I dirtied them/the fire in my lungs etc). Although if you didn't get it I have just made myself look ridiculous. I have a habit of being wildly obscure with my fanfiction.
Also, I am up to date on thirteenth division-related events in the manga. I know who looks like who and isn't who and suchlike. In a way that makes episode forty-nine even worse, doesn't it?

*~Pips~*

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Sidonzo
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Posted: Thu 05 Apr , 2007 12:39 am
Everything Is Numb
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OK! I'm the idiot here! LOL! I thought it was about the night Rukia had to kill Kaien! Sorry about that! I was wondering about the leading my division part again! I should have know it would be about Ukitake since he is your favorite! :P

Are you talking about the hollow that looks like Kaien that shows up later in the manga? If so, that part is HORRIBLE!

~Sid


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Pippin4242
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Posted: Thu 05 Apr , 2007 1:02 am
Hasta la victoria, siempre
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Joined: Sun 13 Mar , 2005 7:49 pm
Location: Outer Heaven
 
I am, but I was thinking of not spoilering Dawn. :P
And it is about the night Rukia had to kill Kaien. The first stanzamijig is Ukitake waking up in Shunsui's bed and wondering how he got there, then listening to the rain. The rest of the poem except for the end is about the night Kaien died.


Here's a probably unnecessary annotated version.


Ukitake wakes to the sound of rain, and finds himself in Shunsui's arms. His zanpakutou release invokes thunder- "my own power".

at first there is nothing
then
thunder fills me like my own power
dissipating into rain, rain, dripping at the window
oh.
and I am warmsoftdry
hairy
his hairy arm brushes my jaw
it is raining
and he is holding me
and he is asleep
when did I get here?
thunder!
(real thunder)
jumping despite myself
I nuzzle closer
he stirs and
-in his sleep-
he lifts me without knowing
I do not struggle

He begins to reminisce.

Memories ripple, their dark pool stirred by the falling water.

The lake is where Ukitake's office stands, on little stilts. The "fire in my lungs" is from the coughing fit which prevented him from killing Kaien with his own hands. He watches Rukia carry Kaien's body away.

It was on a rainy night, of course.
Raindrops blossomed on the lake
The leaves were refreshed
I couldn't be angry at the leaves. They didn't know.
The adrenaline left my body then, and
A dull ache. As if I had been punched in the stomach.
I wanted to be sick. I think it would have helped.
In any case the fire in my lungs-
should have cleansed me, but it couldn't.
Nothing on my hands. No blood. The rain washed my blood away.
It wasn't mine that mattered.
(My veins were filled with rainwater)
No, in keeping my hands clean I dirtied them
irretrievably.
A horrible, messy end.
(The rain lied and said it wasn't-
washing his blood into the earth
I knew the plants would grow strong through his pain and
already
so soon!
I knew that anything I planted there would grow in the fertile soil
in his memory and flesh)
And the one true testimony to his ridiculous end
was borne away by a child
not half his size
Rukia, you are the rain.

These three lines are a reference to several things- Ukitake's tremendous age, his division number, the fact that he's been leading his division possibly since the division was created, and (most telling) the fact that Jyuushirou is spelt "fourteenth son".

Thirteen is inauspicious, I said back then
I joked it should be fourteen
after me.

In the manga, Kuukaku forgives Rukia very easily because she heard the true version of events from Ukitake shortly after Rukia returned Kaien's body. So "her" refers to Kuukaku and "the boy" is a young Ganju. Rukia, bearing Kaien's body, leaves Ukitake's vision.

I wanted
I wanted-
to find her, tell her,
throw myself at her feet.
See the boy.
Leave myself to their mercy.
but
with every step my sodden sandals
dragged me down into the earth
where his blood had fled.
My clothes stuck to me. I was drowning where I stood.
If I cried it wouldn't matter
The rain could swallow that too.
I saw the girl embark
wanting to follow her
I waited until she left my vision and then I threw back my head
and screamed.

Ukitake collapses. :P He's wearing his white taichou haori- does that make this animeverse I wonder? Because in the manga he was wearing a black raincoat. (WHY DO I REMEMBER THESE THINGS?!?) Anyway, ruining his haori would probably be a big deal if it came out of his wages, seeing as they support himself, his seven brothers and sisters, his mother and father and several other related hangers-on.

Darkness blotted out the edges of my vision.
I couldn't move but tremble.
I was swaying in the wind, I was a hundred feet tall and as wide as the land my leaves caught the water and I was the storm
I shrieked and sobbed and fell forward
(ruining my coat, I might add, for even now money matters)
and I spilt my blood into the earth that it might join his
the smallest sacrifice I could make, and far too late
I closed my eyes.

Shunsui takes a deeply shocked Ukitake back to the Eighth and bathes him, dresses him, forces tea on him and shares a bed with him. The mud seeping through and over the straw sandals has ruined Ukitake's white socks.

That night
(oh, that night)
I remember still
warm hands
standing, without seeing
naked, stripped bare of clothes that burnt with rainwater to my icy flesh
the warmth
as water gave me its love again
and I could breathe
and I cried and sobbed and called his name
and the strong fingers worked the mud from my hair
and there was blood in the water
swirling on the surface
and I was absurdly glad that it hadn't faded.
Tea was pressed into my hands
(I was dry? These clothes were not mine)
and I knew nothing more than to drink deeply
and feel my blood begin to flow once more.
That night, I stayed in his bed. His hand caressed my head
(his other pressed me to him)
and my feet were warm upon his legs
(they had to throw the socks away).
And every time I heard the rain my tears began to flow
with a direct link to my eyes, it seems,
for there was no concious decision to break
down.
but there we are.
Eventually,
the rain stopped.
And there was a morning. And bright sun.
And his hands, giving me hot tea.
And never a word, for we did not need to speak.
My toes felt for the edge of the mat
and I knew that they were warm
(and thought of those that would never be warm again).
I was offered a hand.
I took it. Stood. Felt the air move through the room.
(I took him in my arms and kissed him)
And then I led my division as only I knew how.

Kaien claimed to be basically running the place before he died. I'm sure Kotsubaki and Kiyone aren't ideally suited to the shared position of taichou...

It was hard,
but the one who had departed was a luxury in my life, after all.
I gave up small things, like sick leave
and somehow
life went on.

Explaining that on rainy nights which remind him of Kaien's death he sometimes seeks out Shunsui without knowing he's doing it, leading back to the start of the poem.

(On some rainy nights I wake to discover that somehow I am no longer in my bed, alone. For this I am eternally grateful, and I still have not said thank you).

_________________

Avatar is a male me, drawn by a very close friend. Just don't ask why.


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