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Entry tags:
Fic - Better
Title: Better
Rating: PG-13 / T
Pairings/Characters: Byakuya/Hisana
Warnings: Angst, character death, a bit of queasiness. Spoilers for the ByaHisa relationship, although that should be general knowledge by now, right?
Word Count: 797
Disclaimer: I am not Kubo Tite, nor do I own any part of Bleach. Darn.
A/N: Written for Week 50 "alcohol" at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bleach_contest
Byakuya couldn’t breathe.
He tried, but the breaths became gasps, and the gasps ripped at his throat. He gripped her hand harder, desperately. What was happening? It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“Hisana…” The name was a ragged whisper on his lips, lips that were dry and cracking. Lips that had spoken that same name countless times before with an intimacy meant only for her. Lips that had kissed her skin with a passion only she witnessed.
He couldn’t breathe.
Byakuya could only hold on to her hand, her tiny, cold hand, and wish for the impossible. “Hisana, I can’t…”
And then he felt an unfamiliar stinging behind his eyes. He raised his head to the ceiling and tried not to blink, lest he allow the traitorous tears to fall. The gasps became louder and harsher, so he bit his lip to keep the sounds at bay. He was a noble, dignified. Byakuya would make sure to mourn in a manner fitting his rank.
But when he glanced at Hisana’s body, he forgot anything about his status. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to care.
He bowed his head over her lifeless hand and let the tears fall to her cold skin. He kissed her hand, his tears moistening his lips and he finally wept openly. His broken moans echoed in the expansive room, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice anything except Hisana’s face. Her pretty face marred by her killing illness and the bones stretching her ashen skin. Byakuya hated that image. Where was the woman he had fallen in love with? Where was the woman he had broken all the rules for?
He thought he had been prepared for her departure after the months, years, of her pain. But none of his musings or their conversations lived up to this agony. No one could have told him before how he would feel as if his insides were engulfed in flames. No one could have said just how much he wanted to scream and tear out his heart just to stop feeling, just to stop loving.
And no one could have prepared him for the sight of her body – no, her spirit particles – dissolving into the air around them.
Byakuya felt his eyes widen when her face turned into a patchwork of skin and nothing.
It disgusted him.
As soon as the realization entered his mind, he felt nauseous. He looked away, though the disturbing image remained in his mind. How could he betray her like this? He loved her!
The bile rose in his throat. His mouth clamped shut, along with his eyes and he fought the bodily reaction. It was no use. Despite his best efforts, Byakuya coughed up the offending liquids onto the tatami mat and fell to his hands, the ends of his hair dipping into the puddle. But he didn’t care.
He didn’t care.
Hisana was dead and Byakuya longed to join her.
He wanted everything to get better, like when his nurse treated a skinned knee or elbow when he was so young.
“Now, no need for tears, Byakuya-sama,” she would tell him, cleaning the scrape with a stinging, smelly liquid. “A little nobleman doesn’t cry. He’s got to be the one everyone looks up to.” He sucked in air as the rubbing alcohol bubbled and hissed. “There we go, all better!”
All better. All better, she would say.
Byakuya spit out some more bile and wiped off his mouth while sitting up again. In and out, he breathed heavily, trying to regain some composure. All better. He forced out a sardonic chuckle. It would be all better if he drank a bottle of rubbing alcohol, maybe. The pain wouldn’t feel much different than what he was going through now and it would numb everything after a while. He would simply close his eyes afterward and hope to see her face when he opened them again.
Looking back to the futon, he saw that her body had completely disappeared. Byakuya sighed and ran his fingers over the faint imprint on the futon, the only evidence she had been there at all that day.
Then he remembered the promise he made to Hisana.
Rukia.
He had to keep that promise. He had to find her.
How could he ever face Hisana again if he didn’t?
Byakuya shakily rose to his feet and looked out the window. The plum blossoms had yet to bloom, although they looked close to opening. They just needed time.
He needed time, though he didn’t want it. But he needed time to collect his life again and move on. Underneath everything and despite what had just happened, Byakuya knew that the sting was the hardest part of healing.
After that, it would all get better.
Rating: PG-13 / T
Pairings/Characters: Byakuya/Hisana
Warnings: Angst, character death, a bit of queasiness. Spoilers for the ByaHisa relationship, although that should be general knowledge by now, right?
Word Count: 797
Disclaimer: I am not Kubo Tite, nor do I own any part of Bleach. Darn.
A/N: Written for Week 50 "alcohol" at
bleach_contestByakuya couldn’t breathe.
He tried, but the breaths became gasps, and the gasps ripped at his throat. He gripped her hand harder, desperately. What was happening? It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“Hisana…” The name was a ragged whisper on his lips, lips that were dry and cracking. Lips that had spoken that same name countless times before with an intimacy meant only for her. Lips that had kissed her skin with a passion only she witnessed.
He couldn’t breathe.
Byakuya could only hold on to her hand, her tiny, cold hand, and wish for the impossible. “Hisana, I can’t…”
And then he felt an unfamiliar stinging behind his eyes. He raised his head to the ceiling and tried not to blink, lest he allow the traitorous tears to fall. The gasps became louder and harsher, so he bit his lip to keep the sounds at bay. He was a noble, dignified. Byakuya would make sure to mourn in a manner fitting his rank.
But when he glanced at Hisana’s body, he forgot anything about his status. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to care.
He bowed his head over her lifeless hand and let the tears fall to her cold skin. He kissed her hand, his tears moistening his lips and he finally wept openly. His broken moans echoed in the expansive room, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice anything except Hisana’s face. Her pretty face marred by her killing illness and the bones stretching her ashen skin. Byakuya hated that image. Where was the woman he had fallen in love with? Where was the woman he had broken all the rules for?
He thought he had been prepared for her departure after the months, years, of her pain. But none of his musings or their conversations lived up to this agony. No one could have told him before how he would feel as if his insides were engulfed in flames. No one could have said just how much he wanted to scream and tear out his heart just to stop feeling, just to stop loving.
And no one could have prepared him for the sight of her body – no, her spirit particles – dissolving into the air around them.
Byakuya felt his eyes widen when her face turned into a patchwork of skin and nothing.
It disgusted him.
As soon as the realization entered his mind, he felt nauseous. He looked away, though the disturbing image remained in his mind. How could he betray her like this? He loved her!
The bile rose in his throat. His mouth clamped shut, along with his eyes and he fought the bodily reaction. It was no use. Despite his best efforts, Byakuya coughed up the offending liquids onto the tatami mat and fell to his hands, the ends of his hair dipping into the puddle. But he didn’t care.
He didn’t care.
Hisana was dead and Byakuya longed to join her.
He wanted everything to get better, like when his nurse treated a skinned knee or elbow when he was so young.
“Now, no need for tears, Byakuya-sama,” she would tell him, cleaning the scrape with a stinging, smelly liquid. “A little nobleman doesn’t cry. He’s got to be the one everyone looks up to.” He sucked in air as the rubbing alcohol bubbled and hissed. “There we go, all better!”
All better. All better, she would say.
Byakuya spit out some more bile and wiped off his mouth while sitting up again. In and out, he breathed heavily, trying to regain some composure. All better. He forced out a sardonic chuckle. It would be all better if he drank a bottle of rubbing alcohol, maybe. The pain wouldn’t feel much different than what he was going through now and it would numb everything after a while. He would simply close his eyes afterward and hope to see her face when he opened them again.
Looking back to the futon, he saw that her body had completely disappeared. Byakuya sighed and ran his fingers over the faint imprint on the futon, the only evidence she had been there at all that day.
Then he remembered the promise he made to Hisana.
Rukia.
He had to keep that promise. He had to find her.
How could he ever face Hisana again if he didn’t?
Byakuya shakily rose to his feet and looked out the window. The plum blossoms had yet to bloom, although they looked close to opening. They just needed time.
He needed time, though he didn’t want it. But he needed time to collect his life again and move on. Underneath everything and despite what had just happened, Byakuya knew that the sting was the hardest part of healing.
After that, it would all get better.