haori | Cough 059 - [Accidental Video]

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Cough 059 - [Accidental Video]

[The sun is setting in the distance amidst the drizzle of rain as Ukitake's normal song continues playing for him. All week, Rick Astley has been serenading him and anyone else who's been close enough to hear, and yet the Shinigami hasn't seemed to get too tired of it yet. Yes, it's possible he's insane. But when he approaches the pond out front with the intention of feeding the fish, the song ends.

Ukitake pauses and looks around, his hand held out mid-act. Where's...the music?

And then, softly, a new song starts up. Ukitake doesn't move at first, but as the singer tells his story, he quickly sprinkles the food over the water's surface and then slips his hands inside his haori sleeves.

If one watches closely, they can see that his expression saddens. What a note to end the week on. But is he sad because of the song itself and the man involved in all the pain? Or is it because the lyrics can apply to himself?

The feed times out after a few moments of watching Ukitake stand there in the rain, the sun slipping quickly behind the clouds and horizon.]

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[She'd add something about it being bad for his health, but she's pretty sure he's quite aware of that himself. But it seems she's taken up a liiiitle bit of a habit of worrying about him from some certain third-seats back home]

Are you feeling alright? Can I get you anything?

[He sits himself down at the kitchen table, raking his fingers through his damp hair. How long had he been out in the rain?]

No, I'm all right. But thank you.

[Probably too long, if he's that wet... but it's not her place to scold him. So instead...]

Are you sure? I was just about to make myself some tea...

Ah, well...I suppose a cup wouldn't hurt.

If you're sure.

[Actually you're getting tea whether you're sure or not, sorry captain. Fortunately, it's Rukia, who makes damn good tea, and efficiently too, even with what she's got to work with here.]

Please.

[She's quick, efficient, and good, and soon there's two steaming cups of tea set down on the table, one in front of him.]

Thank you.

[He pulls his cup closer and wraps his hands gingerly around it, absorbing the heat.]

Really, it's nothing.

[She does the same with her own cup, savoring the heat while she waits for it to be cool enough to drink, unknowingly letting out a small, half-contented, half-contemplative sigh.]

[He watches her from across the table with a small smile on his face.]

It's been a while since we've done this.

[She makes a small, considering noise.] It has, hasn't it? But then, things haven't exactly been... what passes for normal, around here.

No, I'm afraid they usually don't. It's just up to us to roll with the punches, or so they say.

So to speak. Though some things... have been harder to 'roll with' than others.

[He is about to agree when he hears the apprehension in her voice.]

Is there something on your mind?

[She almost doesn't say it, but she's slowly getting used to Adstring and not censoring herself as much as she would back home, and so, after a moment's hesitation, comes out with:]

Inner Hollows and dying seem like pretty big 'punches to roll with', I think...

...Ah.

[He takes a moment to look down at his tea, thinking of how to respond.]

Yes, they can be quite difficult.

[What a pair they are, examining their respective teacups as if the ceramic had answers. Finally, she frowns and comes out with what might seem like something of a non sequitur at first]

Sir, correct me if I'm wrong but... you're from quite a bit earlier in our world's... timeline, as it were, yes?

Nearly fifty years ago, yes. Give or take a few years.

[It takes her just a second or two, but she's pretty good at doing the math on certain things...]

Oh...

So, then... not long after... that night.

[His voice softens.]

Three years. Though I believe it's five, now.

Ah. [She's fifty years past and still not over that night, she can't imagine being only five or so again. She quiet for another moment before she speaks again.]

Such a difference in times...

[He's not sure he can ever forgive himself, be it five years or fifty.]

Mn.

[They're in the same boat on that one, more or less. She's silent for another long moment.]

That week, here, you had a Hollow inside of you too.

[It's less question, and more statement of fact, but she doesn't want to push too far into uncomfortable territory without his approval.]

[The same Hollow that took their beloved fukutaichou from them...]

You did, as well?

[He doesn't know, having isolated himself for the few days he was alive that week, then obviously not being around when Rukia had publicly broadcasted.

Though it makes him sad that if she went through anything similar to what he did, then she had been in some sort of pain, even if it wasn't entirely physical.]

[That just makes things more fun. If by fun we mean tragic...]

Yes... Different Hollows, but, yes.

[She, unfortunately, remembers all too well, all that bloodshed, and then afterward... She lost her vice-captain to a Hollow, and her captain to nothing more than a madman. It doesn't seem fair... So she turns her mind away from that thought.

I suppose I know now how Ichigo must feel though...

[It's an off-hand comment, before she remembers he's from a time long before Ichigo, and shakes her head.]

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