Red Dragonflies' Sunset
Bleach
Rated: Teen
Iron Fic 8 Entry
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She bolted upright and sat, gasping for breath, her face pale and streaked with sweat. She hadnÆt been frightened by a nightmare or startled by a noise or explosion; no, that wasnÆt it.
Something, somehow, was pulling her.
There was a moment of eerie silence as she got to her feet and looked around, wary. Her world, as usual, was empty, boring, colorless. An ancient city of white marble and granite, alabaster and limestone, shining and glaring under the ruthless sun. And something was pulling her toward a figure on the horizon that she swore hadnÆt been there beforeà
When she drew closer, the figure revealed itself: a facsimile of herself wrought in the garish colors that had been stolen from her. Red, yellow, a spot of pink here, a twinkle of dark eyes there. Her own eyes, inverted and finely colorless with irises of arrayed silver, narrowed and she took a step back.
Hiyori took a step forward.
ôGet away from me,ö she spat. ôWhat are you doing here?ö
An expression of grim determination settled over the colored versionÆs face. She stepped forward again, glaring.
ôI donÆt want to be here either! But youÆve got to get off your ass and help me in this fight. WeÆre up against some high-level opponents andùö
ôAnd youÆre a bit rusty? Ha!ö She smirked. ôI knew it! I knew youÆd come to your senses eventually and let me take over. It was all a matter of timeàö
ôI donÆt need you to give me that crap, damn it.ö Her voice softened to a murmur. ôI need your power. And the least I could do is askà it gives me nightmares when youÆre lying there bleeding.ö
Pausing, she drew a little closer. ôàbut your fight with Kurosakià?ö
ôWas a lot of fun. But seeing you like thatà I donÆt like you, but ità stungàö
ôOh,ö she murmured back, nodding slightly. ôWellùö
ôSo, will you do it or not?ö
At that, she looked up. Hiyori was glaring at her expectantly.
ôCome on, we donÆt have much time. Every second IÆm in here, my defenses are down!ö She stepped forward, eye to eye, nose to nose. ôCome on, put your hand in mine. Give me your power so we can get started.ö
She blinked at her once, twice, before shrugging and shaking her head. ôNah, not today.ö
ôWhat do you mean, not today?! Are you insane?ö
ôMaybe.ö
ôDamn it, Hollow, this is no time forùö
ôI have a name, you know!ö
Hiyori paused at her change in tone, blinking. ôàHuh?ö
ôI said I have a name. You just never bothered to learn it. You never bothered with anything!ö She glared, jumping back to put distance between them. ôYou were so focused on getting back to your old self, that you didnÆt even stop to consider what it felt like to be locked in a world where youÆre the only thing alive! How do you think I recovered, while you had the support of your friends? How do you think it felt to be torn in twoùand then left with the hope that the wound would just magically knit itself shut?!ö
ôI didnÆt thinkùö
ôDamn straight you didnÆt. You left me to bleed, you left me to hurt, and you never gave me a second thought until the pain got so bad that I had to try and take over! And then what did you do? You beat me down, you tore me apart again, and you sealed me awayà you think it stings for you? What about what it feels like for me? IÆm not helping you,ö she growled, turning away. ôGo fight your own damn battle.ö
Hiyori winced and took a step back, before anger flared in her eyes and she drew up to her full height, glaring.
ôWhat gives you the right to say that? IÆm more powerful than you!ö She grabbed her wrist and began to fade away; as the color vanished, her other half grew weak. But at the last moment, as a slit opened to allow the last shreds through, she growled and jumped forward.
Color.
Color, light, sound, everywhere. She felt like she might faint.
Over Hiyori screaming obscenities at her, she could hear the sounds of battle: moving air, shouts, cries. The others were fighting as wellà she walked up to the center and stretched, grinning. In front of her, a large monster was present, as were some recovering bad guys. She wasnÆt sure they were actually bad, but her black captainÆs cloak matched better with one side than the other.
She sighed happily and drew her sword, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The tattered black edges swung and hit the sides of her ankles softly, the slim fit accentuating her lithe build in ways that her counterpart had failed to grasp or attempt since her days as a Captain.
This was what sheÆd been missing every day. This was what sheÆd mourned for, never understanding why it was denied her.
They say that those who have never tasted freedom are perfectly satisfied with bondage, and that those who are unwilling to fight for it should be. She knew in a moment of warm sunlight that whoever said it was a damned liar. SheÆd mourned for the loss of this ever since sheÆd woken up in that colorless world, and it was this that sheÆd fought for until blood stung her eyes and took her vision in a blotting haze of red.
Now that she was hereà
Now that she had ità
It was intoxicatingà
She lunged forward, her sword drawn, and slashed at the open air, testing herself out. It was exhilarating to feel the air whistling past her, hear the edges of her cloak flapping in the wind as she spun, jumped, hopped, felt the warm sun on her back soaking into the coarse black cotton, see the sky with real clouds, wind-torn and flaming in the sunset.
It was far more than sheÆd ever dreamed of.
It was red and yellow and blue and the white clouds dyed all those colors, never to be white again and the soundà
SheÆd never heard such sound. Metal-metal sounds and movement sounds and the sounds of peopleÆs voicesà loud voicesà
ôHey, whoÆs that idiot in the CaptainÆs cloak?!ö
Blinking, she turned to the general assembly, noticing that their attention was diverted to her. They were staring, blinking, at her with a rather derisive look too. One of them sighed and walked forward.
ôGo home,ö he said simply. She blinked at him.
ôWhy should I? YouÆre shorter than I am!ö On second thought, that probably wasnÆt nice. Who cared? ôLook, I donÆt have a home. I just got here. I just wanna fight. So tell me who weÆre fighting and IÆll get to it.ö
He blinked once, then grumbled, ôFine. We need all the help we can get.ö He took her by the shoulders and lined her up with a tall, dark woman who was standing a few hundred yards away, shivering a little but otherwise holding a near-perfect fighting stance. ôFight her.ö
After a short pause, she gave a nod and leapt forward, only to stop when something caught her attention. It was something that flew, high and free, a small fleeting band of color. She watched it flit across the sky, its colors a perfect embodiment of the warmth, the lightà
She could barely call up a memory of a ceremony far behind her, when sheÆd been one with the Captain and their memories were shared. It had involved the summer ceremonies in Rukongai, which theyÆd gone to watch after a hard day at the Academy. Oh, so long agoà there had been fireworks with red sparks. The children had lit them and theyÆd flown, the sparks issuing from each side like wings. What was that tune theyÆd all seemed to know?
To the glorious sunset colors
red dragonflies belong.
When did I behold them
as my mother carried me along.
She paused, watching its transparent wings move in quick strokes that she could barely catch, transfixed. This was life as, long ago, far away, sheÆd known it.
This was freedom.
This tiny, dancing red spark of a thingà
Redà
Red everywhere. Bright, sharp, painful, hot red, spraying, spilling. The cool touch of water beside it, bruising, running down her in a cascade, soaking her cold alongside the hot, scalding red. She gasped as pain flooded her mind, her vision suddenly blurry.
Just before it all went black, though, her eyes cleared for a single vision: the peak of the sunset, breathtaking and intense, fiery clouds and golden sunlight. The drops of water on her eyelashes lit to flame, tears of pain and shock catching the light with a strange solemn gleam.
And the red dragonfly with his wings spotted with blood, high-flying and free, winging his way out of her vision.
In the end, it didnÆt matter that she hadnÆt been able to see another sunset. It wasnÆt important that she had only five minutes to breathe the warm, silky summer air, to taste the adrenaline of an uncertain battle, to feel the contact of warm hands, hear peopleÆs voices.
She would have given anything for even half the time.
Because, when it came down to the fact of the matter, only one thing was important.
She died free.
Bleach
Rated: Teen
Iron Fic 8 Entry
--------------------------------------------- >;< >;< >;<
She bolted upright and sat, gasping for breath, her face pale and streaked with sweat. She hadnÆt been frightened by a nightmare or startled by a noise or explosion; no, that wasnÆt it.
Something, somehow, was pulling her.
There was a moment of eerie silence as she got to her feet and looked around, wary. Her world, as usual, was empty, boring, colorless. An ancient city of white marble and granite, alabaster and limestone, shining and glaring under the ruthless sun. And something was pulling her toward a figure on the horizon that she swore hadnÆt been there beforeà
When she drew closer, the figure revealed itself: a facsimile of herself wrought in the garish colors that had been stolen from her. Red, yellow, a spot of pink here, a twinkle of dark eyes there. Her own eyes, inverted and finely colorless with irises of arrayed silver, narrowed and she took a step back.
Hiyori took a step forward.
ôGet away from me,ö she spat. ôWhat are you doing here?ö
An expression of grim determination settled over the colored versionÆs face. She stepped forward again, glaring.
ôI donÆt want to be here either! But youÆve got to get off your ass and help me in this fight. WeÆre up against some high-level opponents andùö
ôAnd youÆre a bit rusty? Ha!ö She smirked. ôI knew it! I knew youÆd come to your senses eventually and let me take over. It was all a matter of timeàö
ôI donÆt need you to give me that crap, damn it.ö Her voice softened to a murmur. ôI need your power. And the least I could do is askà it gives me nightmares when youÆre lying there bleeding.ö
Pausing, she drew a little closer. ôàbut your fight with Kurosakià?ö
ôWas a lot of fun. But seeing you like thatà I donÆt like you, but ità stungàö
ôOh,ö she murmured back, nodding slightly. ôWellùö
ôSo, will you do it or not?ö
At that, she looked up. Hiyori was glaring at her expectantly.
ôCome on, we donÆt have much time. Every second IÆm in here, my defenses are down!ö She stepped forward, eye to eye, nose to nose. ôCome on, put your hand in mine. Give me your power so we can get started.ö
She blinked at her once, twice, before shrugging and shaking her head. ôNah, not today.ö
ôWhat do you mean, not today?! Are you insane?ö
ôMaybe.ö
ôDamn it, Hollow, this is no time forùö
ôI have a name, you know!ö
Hiyori paused at her change in tone, blinking. ôàHuh?ö
ôI said I have a name. You just never bothered to learn it. You never bothered with anything!ö She glared, jumping back to put distance between them. ôYou were so focused on getting back to your old self, that you didnÆt even stop to consider what it felt like to be locked in a world where youÆre the only thing alive! How do you think I recovered, while you had the support of your friends? How do you think it felt to be torn in twoùand then left with the hope that the wound would just magically knit itself shut?!ö
ôI didnÆt thinkùö
ôDamn straight you didnÆt. You left me to bleed, you left me to hurt, and you never gave me a second thought until the pain got so bad that I had to try and take over! And then what did you do? You beat me down, you tore me apart again, and you sealed me awayà you think it stings for you? What about what it feels like for me? IÆm not helping you,ö she growled, turning away. ôGo fight your own damn battle.ö
Hiyori winced and took a step back, before anger flared in her eyes and she drew up to her full height, glaring.
ôWhat gives you the right to say that? IÆm more powerful than you!ö She grabbed her wrist and began to fade away; as the color vanished, her other half grew weak. But at the last moment, as a slit opened to allow the last shreds through, she growled and jumped forward.
Color.
Color, light, sound, everywhere. She felt like she might faint.
Over Hiyori screaming obscenities at her, she could hear the sounds of battle: moving air, shouts, cries. The others were fighting as wellà she walked up to the center and stretched, grinning. In front of her, a large monster was present, as were some recovering bad guys. She wasnÆt sure they were actually bad, but her black captainÆs cloak matched better with one side than the other.
She sighed happily and drew her sword, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The tattered black edges swung and hit the sides of her ankles softly, the slim fit accentuating her lithe build in ways that her counterpart had failed to grasp or attempt since her days as a Captain.
This was what sheÆd been missing every day. This was what sheÆd mourned for, never understanding why it was denied her.
They say that those who have never tasted freedom are perfectly satisfied with bondage, and that those who are unwilling to fight for it should be. She knew in a moment of warm sunlight that whoever said it was a damned liar. SheÆd mourned for the loss of this ever since sheÆd woken up in that colorless world, and it was this that sheÆd fought for until blood stung her eyes and took her vision in a blotting haze of red.
Now that she was hereà
Now that she had ità
It was intoxicatingà
She lunged forward, her sword drawn, and slashed at the open air, testing herself out. It was exhilarating to feel the air whistling past her, hear the edges of her cloak flapping in the wind as she spun, jumped, hopped, felt the warm sun on her back soaking into the coarse black cotton, see the sky with real clouds, wind-torn and flaming in the sunset.
It was far more than sheÆd ever dreamed of.
It was red and yellow and blue and the white clouds dyed all those colors, never to be white again and the soundà
SheÆd never heard such sound. Metal-metal sounds and movement sounds and the sounds of peopleÆs voicesà loud voicesà
ôHey, whoÆs that idiot in the CaptainÆs cloak?!ö
Blinking, she turned to the general assembly, noticing that their attention was diverted to her. They were staring, blinking, at her with a rather derisive look too. One of them sighed and walked forward.
ôGo home,ö he said simply. She blinked at him.
ôWhy should I? YouÆre shorter than I am!ö On second thought, that probably wasnÆt nice. Who cared? ôLook, I donÆt have a home. I just got here. I just wanna fight. So tell me who weÆre fighting and IÆll get to it.ö
He blinked once, then grumbled, ôFine. We need all the help we can get.ö He took her by the shoulders and lined her up with a tall, dark woman who was standing a few hundred yards away, shivering a little but otherwise holding a near-perfect fighting stance. ôFight her.ö
After a short pause, she gave a nod and leapt forward, only to stop when something caught her attention. It was something that flew, high and free, a small fleeting band of color. She watched it flit across the sky, its colors a perfect embodiment of the warmth, the lightà
She could barely call up a memory of a ceremony far behind her, when sheÆd been one with the Captain and their memories were shared. It had involved the summer ceremonies in Rukongai, which theyÆd gone to watch after a hard day at the Academy. Oh, so long agoà there had been fireworks with red sparks. The children had lit them and theyÆd flown, the sparks issuing from each side like wings. What was that tune theyÆd all seemed to know?
To the glorious sunset colors
red dragonflies belong.
When did I behold them
as my mother carried me along.
She paused, watching its transparent wings move in quick strokes that she could barely catch, transfixed. This was life as, long ago, far away, sheÆd known it.
This was freedom.
This tiny, dancing red spark of a thingà
Redà
Red everywhere. Bright, sharp, painful, hot red, spraying, spilling. The cool touch of water beside it, bruising, running down her in a cascade, soaking her cold alongside the hot, scalding red. She gasped as pain flooded her mind, her vision suddenly blurry.
Just before it all went black, though, her eyes cleared for a single vision: the peak of the sunset, breathtaking and intense, fiery clouds and golden sunlight. The drops of water on her eyelashes lit to flame, tears of pain and shock catching the light with a strange solemn gleam.
And the red dragonfly with his wings spotted with blood, high-flying and free, winging his way out of her vision.
In the end, it didnÆt matter that she hadnÆt been able to see another sunset. It wasnÆt important that she had only five minutes to breathe the warm, silky summer air, to taste the adrenaline of an uncertain battle, to feel the contact of warm hands, hear peopleÆs voices.
She would have given anything for even half the time.
Because, when it came down to the fact of the matter, only one thing was important.
She died free.