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lacewood) wrote in ![[community profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
toxicskyremix2004-05-16 09:05 pm
lacewood) wrote in toxicskyremix2004-05-16 09:05 pm
Entry tags:
bleach - fate begun
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trick_eyelids
The dustpan thumped against his back with every step. Thump thump thump, and all Hanatarou could think of was, even his own equipment was against him.
Oh, but of course. Someone had clapped him on the back as he left and told him to cheer UP! He looked like he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor - it wasn't that bad! And hey, it had to beat toilet duty, right?
Toilet duty didn't come complete with dangerous criminals, Hanatarou could have pointed out. As it was, he sighed and concentrated on not melting into a puddle of gloom on the ground. It'd make a mess, and he didn't want that, did he?
He trudged on. The walk to Division Six's prison cells wasn't long but it still left Hanatarou too much time to think about all the things that could go wrong. Prisoners tended to be well behaved enough, or at least possessed of enough sense to leave the sweepers who made sure their cells stayed clean alone. But most prisoners weren't members of the Kuchiki family either.
He wasn't even sure what Division Six's newest prisoner was being executed for. But it had to be serious if it warranted death.
The guard at the door took one look at his broom and waved him in without a second glance. Hanatarou pushed the door silently open and peered through it, nervous. The room was large, high-ceilinged, ending in the cell that took up half of it, with sunlight pouring through the single window. He blinked, and saw.
The cell was so large it dwarfed the figure seated, unmoving, in the chair. A girl in a white robe, sitting with her back to the door. She looked small for a Kuchiki, he thought, before telling himself that that was silly. But he'd certainly expected someone more... imposing.
He slid the door shut behind him, crossed the room on cautious, silent feet. She didn't turn at his approach - she could have been carved from stone, he thought, staring at that still back.
Fumbling for the key, it turned in the lock with a loud clank - he winced at the noise. The prisoner moved then, a bare turn of her head and an expressionless glance. Hanatarou stared back, wide-eyed, but she only turned back again to stare into the distance.
She didn't really look like she was going to kill him and try to escape. That was a good thing, right? He stepped into the cell. Turned to shut the door behind him when his broom caught in the bars, tangled between his legs and sent him to the ground with a pained yelp and the clang of his dustpan bouncing off the floor.
Silence.
Face on the floor, elbows and knees and just about everything else yelling at him for being a clumsy fool, that had hurt, he groaned. Remembered where he was and managed to push himself off the ground.
"I'm sorry! Really sorry! I didn't mean to, I'm so clumsy, I'm sorry..." he babbled. It would just about serve him right if the prisoner stabbed him with his own broom and escaped, he thought, or complained to the Captain about sending incompetent sweepers to clean her cell or...
"Are you all right?" the voice asked. He looked up and blinked. The prisoner was standing before him, eyebrows raised, looking concerned.
"Ah! Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm so sorry to have disturbed you..." He tried to stand and almost tripped over his broom again.
She reached down and picked up the broom, propped it against the wall. "Here." Offered him a slim hand with a small smile. Hanatarou stared, realised that he wasn't dreaming the hand, and took it. It pulled him to his feet with no trouble.
"What's your name?"
"Ha... Hanatarou, from Division Four, I'm still new and I really didn't mean to..."
"No, it's okay." She smiled at him. "I was a rookie once too."
She had such sad eyes even when she smiled, he found himself thinking, before flushing.
"Ah... ah, thank you for your help, Kuchiki-sama..."
The prisoner had already turned to return to her chair. She looked at him. "Just call me Rukia," she said.
Hanatarou stared at the thought of calling a member of the esteemed Kuchiki family by her first name, remembered what he was here for and picked up his broom again. He spent the better part of an hour sweeping out the cell, sneaking glances at the strange prisoner all the time. When he was done, she even said thank you.
Later, shutting the door behind him with a sigh of relief, he thought things hadn't been so bad after all.
"I know where she's being kept." The strange shinigami with orange hair and his companion stopped bickering long enough to stare at him.
He should have just gone, he knew. Run before they could think twice and reported where they were hiding; it was embarrassing enough that he'd been captured in the first place by the intruders. But they were here to save her...
He remembered a hand pulling him to his feet and a smile with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.
And thus his fate - doom - had begun.
"I can lead you to her."
end
December 2003
trick_eyelidsThe dustpan thumped against his back with every step. Thump thump thump, and all Hanatarou could think of was, even his own equipment was against him.
Oh, but of course. Someone had clapped him on the back as he left and told him to cheer UP! He looked like he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor - it wasn't that bad! And hey, it had to beat toilet duty, right?
Toilet duty didn't come complete with dangerous criminals, Hanatarou could have pointed out. As it was, he sighed and concentrated on not melting into a puddle of gloom on the ground. It'd make a mess, and he didn't want that, did he?
He trudged on. The walk to Division Six's prison cells wasn't long but it still left Hanatarou too much time to think about all the things that could go wrong. Prisoners tended to be well behaved enough, or at least possessed of enough sense to leave the sweepers who made sure their cells stayed clean alone. But most prisoners weren't members of the Kuchiki family either.
He wasn't even sure what Division Six's newest prisoner was being executed for. But it had to be serious if it warranted death.
The guard at the door took one look at his broom and waved him in without a second glance. Hanatarou pushed the door silently open and peered through it, nervous. The room was large, high-ceilinged, ending in the cell that took up half of it, with sunlight pouring through the single window. He blinked, and saw.
The cell was so large it dwarfed the figure seated, unmoving, in the chair. A girl in a white robe, sitting with her back to the door. She looked small for a Kuchiki, he thought, before telling himself that that was silly. But he'd certainly expected someone more... imposing.
He slid the door shut behind him, crossed the room on cautious, silent feet. She didn't turn at his approach - she could have been carved from stone, he thought, staring at that still back.
Fumbling for the key, it turned in the lock with a loud clank - he winced at the noise. The prisoner moved then, a bare turn of her head and an expressionless glance. Hanatarou stared back, wide-eyed, but she only turned back again to stare into the distance.
She didn't really look like she was going to kill him and try to escape. That was a good thing, right? He stepped into the cell. Turned to shut the door behind him when his broom caught in the bars, tangled between his legs and sent him to the ground with a pained yelp and the clang of his dustpan bouncing off the floor.
Silence.
Face on the floor, elbows and knees and just about everything else yelling at him for being a clumsy fool, that had hurt, he groaned. Remembered where he was and managed to push himself off the ground.
"I'm sorry! Really sorry! I didn't mean to, I'm so clumsy, I'm sorry..." he babbled. It would just about serve him right if the prisoner stabbed him with his own broom and escaped, he thought, or complained to the Captain about sending incompetent sweepers to clean her cell or...
"Are you all right?" the voice asked. He looked up and blinked. The prisoner was standing before him, eyebrows raised, looking concerned.
"Ah! Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm so sorry to have disturbed you..." He tried to stand and almost tripped over his broom again.
She reached down and picked up the broom, propped it against the wall. "Here." Offered him a slim hand with a small smile. Hanatarou stared, realised that he wasn't dreaming the hand, and took it. It pulled him to his feet with no trouble.
"What's your name?"
"Ha... Hanatarou, from Division Four, I'm still new and I really didn't mean to..."
"No, it's okay." She smiled at him. "I was a rookie once too."
She had such sad eyes even when she smiled, he found himself thinking, before flushing.
"Ah... ah, thank you for your help, Kuchiki-sama..."
The prisoner had already turned to return to her chair. She looked at him. "Just call me Rukia," she said.
Hanatarou stared at the thought of calling a member of the esteemed Kuchiki family by her first name, remembered what he was here for and picked up his broom again. He spent the better part of an hour sweeping out the cell, sneaking glances at the strange prisoner all the time. When he was done, she even said thank you.
Later, shutting the door behind him with a sigh of relief, he thought things hadn't been so bad after all.
"I know where she's being kept." The strange shinigami with orange hair and his companion stopped bickering long enough to stare at him.
He should have just gone, he knew. Run before they could think twice and reported where they were hiding; it was embarrassing enough that he'd been captured in the first place by the intruders. But they were here to save her...
He remembered a hand pulling him to his feet and a smile with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.
And thus his fate - doom - had begun.
"I can lead you to her."
end
December 2003