[ He makes a mistake, then, by sipping his tea just as Ichigo tells him English and then, proceeding to - oh. He pauses, eyes widening very slightly as his gaze snaps back to the other man. He forgets entirely to swallow the tea for at least three seconds. Perhaps he should have expected - with how determinedly Ichigo straddles many worlds simultaneously, it seems logically fitting, somehow, that he'd do the same with languages - but all the same... Thoughts stuttering whilst his brain tries to remember the proper sequence of actions from this point on, the tea growing progressively cooler on the back of his tongue, he finally forces himself to look away just to give himself a (badly needed) reprieve, a chance to collect himself.
So. Kurosaki Ichigo is an intellectual in his own right, isn't he. He respects his mother's spirit enough to carry her along even past the boundaries of worlds; he studies, not for the sake of fighting but to learn languages and of course, it goes with his prowess on the battlefield because stupid people seldom survive for long - yes, it shouldn't surprise him at all but somehow, it does.
He doesn't know what to do with that, with this new, fuller picture of Ichigo that's slowly shaping itself within his mind.
So he swallows the tea, finally remembering how, then says, voice perhaps a little rough: ]
If not for the sake of showing off - [ Because certainly, he could if he wanted to. ] - what will you do with it?
[ Distractingly, the sound of Ichigo speaking English at him keeps running on repeat at the back of his mind. It's not nearly as bothersome as it ought to be, either, which is probably where the true issue lies. ]
[ It's said mostly as a mutter under his breath, a little off to the side as he turns his head away from Byakuya's eyes - his eyes and his voice, sounding weirdly rough around the edges and it's that roughnes that makes Ichigo realize, maybe he was showing off, just somewhat. Maybe he was trying to get that reaction out of the other man and why would he? Why the heck would it matter?
He studies this language about half the day, every day, he wakes up to the sound of it and falls asleep across his books at his desk sometimes. It shouldn't be necessary to show it off, right? Anymore than he'd show off his Zanpakuto.
Still, a Reiatsu flare isn't just for warning, is it? It's for calling attention to yourself, too, the right kind.
He purses his lips and considers Byakuya's question a long moment, a frown on his face. It's not like he doesn't know what he'll do with it, it's not like he doesn't know what all this work will amount to.
It's more that it still seems like so little compared to what has gone before. ]
Probably work as a translator. Possibly a teacher, though I'm not sure I've got the temper for that. [ A long shrug. Ichigo picks up the cup of, at this point, lukewarm chocolate and finally sips it like a grown person. ] More Ishida's thing.
[ He catches that mutter for what it is and lets him have it - after all, it was a rude implication in the first place, a rudeness born mostly from Byakuya's own surprise and thus, uncalled for. Then, he waits for Ichigo to answer his question, the other man pursing his lips and frowning like it troubles him. It's a fairly straightforward thing to ask, presumably. Byakuya sips his tea again, just to chase away the aftertaste of his last, disastrous attempt, and wonders why so many seemingly easy things seem to become hurdles or sources of resistance for the other man. He remembers... well, the weeks and months following the last war, they'd all been so preoccupied with planing ahead, figuring out reconstructive efforts and tallying their dead at the same time that in effect, it had felt as if they'd never truly finished the battles. When you walk through the Sereitei today, it still feels like that in a way - the ruins are there, after all, the scars and markings impossible to overlook.
The battlefield is a permanent fixture and he thinks, even with rebuilding, even when everything stands as they want it to, it will never truly disappear.
Then, there's this world. The bustling modernisation, the traffic, the noisiness, yet people are expected to simply live normal lives, to get... jobs, educations, families. There's no war to be fought, perhaps, except for whatever troubles you encounter on a personal level. Not sure I've got the temper, says Ichigo about teaching, mentioning - who is it, oh yes, the Quincy friend. Byakuya watches him for a long moment. The sense of alienation, he realises, is stark around Ichigo. It's him and the rest.
A translator, too, is a type of bridge between places. ]
That sounds worthwhile.
[ Perhaps in Soul Society, it wouldn't be, at least not now - after all, though certain norms are changing slowly but surely, outside influences remain rare. What little they take from the World of the Living are additions, assimilated into the ordinary, normal daily life that they lead. Nothing progresses from that. Nothing changes.
But Kyoto has certainly changed. ]
You bring change where you go, Ichigo. [ He looks at him over the rim of his cup, his gaze quiet. Calm. ] That requires a specific kind of temper, perhaps, just as teaching requires another.
[ It shouldn't matter, not here. In the World of the Living, Byakuya is just a visitor, in some forms just a ghost invisible to most people, even if Ichigo can see him no matter what. Dreams about him at night as well. It shouldn't mean anything when this man who almost had Rukia killed, and Ichigo too for that matter, says that sounds worthwhile, but still Ichigo pauses in his intake of hot chocolate, feeling his face heat up slightly, just across the bridge of his nose. He wrinkles it, trying to get rid of the feeling, hoping the motion will make it less noticeable, not more.
Still, because evidently he doesn't care, when all comes down to it, he bows his head and lets his bangs fall into his eyes, staring down at his own hands. Wrapped around the cup convulsively.
You bring change where you go, Byakuya says. And then his name. Somehow, Ichigo thinks, just his name like that would've been enough.
He takes a moment to identify the feeling inside of him. That's pride, huh. If nothing else, it's fitting that Byakuya of all people is the one to awaken that in him. Ichigo keeps looking down, but he's smiling now. Small, but undeniable. His whole face changes. ]
Is that so? [ After another second, he finally glances first up and across the table at Byakuya, then quickly to the side, out the window. ] Yeah, guess you're right.
[ In that slip of time, he feels, something changing. ]
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saviorcomplexed) wrote2025-03-17 12:16 pm
no subject
So. Kurosaki Ichigo is an intellectual in his own right, isn't he. He respects his mother's spirit enough to carry her along even past the boundaries of worlds; he studies, not for the sake of fighting but to learn languages and of course, it goes with his prowess on the battlefield because stupid people seldom survive for long - yes, it shouldn't surprise him at all but somehow, it does.
He doesn't know what to do with that, with this new, fuller picture of Ichigo that's slowly shaping itself within his mind.
So he swallows the tea, finally remembering how, then says, voice perhaps a little rough: ]
If not for the sake of showing off - [ Because certainly, he could if he wanted to. ] - what will you do with it?
[ Distractingly, the sound of Ichigo speaking English at him keeps running on repeat at the back of his mind. It's not nearly as bothersome as it ought to be, either, which is probably where the true issue lies. ]
no subject
[ It's said mostly as a mutter under his breath, a little off to the side as he turns his head away from Byakuya's eyes - his eyes and his voice, sounding weirdly rough around the edges and it's that roughnes that makes Ichigo realize, maybe he was showing off, just somewhat. Maybe he was trying to get that reaction out of the other man and why would he? Why the heck would it matter?
He studies this language about half the day, every day, he wakes up to the sound of it and falls asleep across his books at his desk sometimes. It shouldn't be necessary to show it off, right? Anymore than he'd show off his Zanpakuto.
Still, a Reiatsu flare isn't just for warning, is it? It's for calling attention to yourself, too, the right kind.
He purses his lips and considers Byakuya's question a long moment, a frown on his face. It's not like he doesn't know what he'll do with it, it's not like he doesn't know what all this work will amount to.
It's more that it still seems like so little compared to what has gone before. ]
Probably work as a translator. Possibly a teacher, though I'm not sure I've got the temper for that. [ A long shrug. Ichigo picks up the cup of, at this point, lukewarm chocolate and finally sips it like a grown person. ] More Ishida's thing.
no subject
The battlefield is a permanent fixture and he thinks, even with rebuilding, even when everything stands as they want it to, it will never truly disappear.
Then, there's this world. The bustling modernisation, the traffic, the noisiness, yet people are expected to simply live normal lives, to get... jobs, educations, families. There's no war to be fought, perhaps, except for whatever troubles you encounter on a personal level. Not sure I've got the temper, says Ichigo about teaching, mentioning - who is it, oh yes, the Quincy friend. Byakuya watches him for a long moment. The sense of alienation, he realises, is stark around Ichigo. It's him and the rest.
A translator, too, is a type of bridge between places. ]
That sounds worthwhile.
[ Perhaps in Soul Society, it wouldn't be, at least not now - after all, though certain norms are changing slowly but surely, outside influences remain rare. What little they take from the World of the Living are additions, assimilated into the ordinary, normal daily life that they lead. Nothing progresses from that. Nothing changes.
But Kyoto has certainly changed. ]
You bring change where you go, Ichigo. [ He looks at him over the rim of his cup, his gaze quiet. Calm. ] That requires a specific kind of temper, perhaps, just as teaching requires another.
no subject
Still, because evidently he doesn't care, when all comes down to it, he bows his head and lets his bangs fall into his eyes, staring down at his own hands. Wrapped around the cup convulsively.
You bring change where you go, Byakuya says. And then his name. Somehow, Ichigo thinks, just his name like that would've been enough.
He takes a moment to identify the feeling inside of him. That's pride, huh. If nothing else, it's fitting that Byakuya of all people is the one to awaken that in him. Ichigo keeps looking down, but he's smiling now. Small, but undeniable. His whole face changes. ]
Is that so? [ After another second, he finally glances first up and across the table at Byakuya, then quickly to the side, out the window. ] Yeah, guess you're right.
[ In that slip of time, he feels, something changing. ]