[ 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
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. ]