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moonsheenOh and uh, here. Have some fic. Bleach. Again pre-series. Very, very, very pre-series this time. By a few centuries or so. In honor of Ye Olde Quincy Archer (read: weenie emo boy) Ishida making his entrance in the anime. (and not doing so badly of it, either. for all that the anime has its flaws, I'm liking the most of the fight scenes. which is key in Bleach, as the fights are just supposed to be bad ass. Soi Fong vs. Yoruichi anyone?)
Pre-Fall:
“…what were they thinking with these orders?” The shinigami growled, sheathing his sword. Empty skies. Empty road. Empty everything. The village past the hill was safe. The coast was irritatingly clear. “The hollow is--”
The flash of spirit was bright and brief like the glitter of the kind of coin won in the alley. The shinigami looked up, swore, and swept himself up in a flurry of black cloth. Four steps through the air and he found them easily; sailing over their heads to land before them. The first stumbled in surprise and the second nearly followed suit: a boy and a girl. They wore white. They looked young. The boy’s hair was startlingly light. The girl’s head was covered. Both were pale and exhausted, and clearly less used to seeing a shinigami than the shinigami was to being seen. Subsequently he stood very tall and let them have a good look at the hand he kept on his sword.
The girl’s fingers were bleeding. She murmured something in a language the shinigami did not understand, and made a strange motion with her fingers over her head and shoulders. The boy clutched at the chain around his wrist. “In the name of the--” he began. The accent was heavy, but this the shinigami did understand.
“Foreigners.” He narrowed his eyes. “Quincy.”
The girl’s head snapped up. “Shinigami,” she acknowledged contemptuously (‘angel’ the boy echoed, oddly). She continued in fluent, perfect Japanese--which she was, the shinigami noticed when he got a better look at her: “We have taken care of this evil spirit. You may return now to your world.”
“That Hollow,” the shinigami pronounced with a snort, sliding foot forward. The girl jerked back. That was better. She was only human, after all. “Was under our observation.”
The girl smiled. “Not anymore.”
“I told the old man--”
“Don’t call him an old man! The Father was--”
“—I told the old man I would be fair. I wouldn’t report him. As long as he didn’t interfere with my work. As long as he didn’t take students.” The shinigami scowled. “Apparently he already had students. How old are you?” He said this to the boy, who’d managed finally to stand himself up. He was posed oddly, his hand extended and his bracelet dangling. The shinigami blinked. The girl’s expression turned fearful.
“Don’t.”
The boy dropped his hand.
“…you people give me a headache,” said the shinigami with a sigh. “You’re children. Go back to the…the Mission, right. I’ll tell you the same: Don’t interfere with my work.”
The girl bristled proudly, her eyes bright and hands folded together primly at her chest. “Shinigami--”
“I’m being nice to you. You’ve wasted my time tonight. I don’t like that. Do this to me again and you will be reported.” He turned away, intent to leave it at that. The boy’s voice carried behind him, slow and carefully pronounced:
“Evil falls before us, behind us. We will, we will not suffer it to…”
The shinigami glanced back. The boy was watching him steadily. “Evil?” he raised an eyebrow. “I’m talking about my job.” He pushed off and said no more. He wasn’t interested in holding conversation. If he could find ten more souls to Bury, or twenty or more, maybe they could forgive the missing Hollow. Maybe it wouldn’t look quite so bad—
Quincy, he thought. How annoying. They asked for trouble. Every single one of them.
Pre-Fall:
“…what were they thinking with these orders?” The shinigami growled, sheathing his sword. Empty skies. Empty road. Empty everything. The village past the hill was safe. The coast was irritatingly clear. “The hollow is--”
The flash of spirit was bright and brief like the glitter of the kind of coin won in the alley. The shinigami looked up, swore, and swept himself up in a flurry of black cloth. Four steps through the air and he found them easily; sailing over their heads to land before them. The first stumbled in surprise and the second nearly followed suit: a boy and a girl. They wore white. They looked young. The boy’s hair was startlingly light. The girl’s head was covered. Both were pale and exhausted, and clearly less used to seeing a shinigami than the shinigami was to being seen. Subsequently he stood very tall and let them have a good look at the hand he kept on his sword.
The girl’s fingers were bleeding. She murmured something in a language the shinigami did not understand, and made a strange motion with her fingers over her head and shoulders. The boy clutched at the chain around his wrist. “In the name of the--” he began. The accent was heavy, but this the shinigami did understand.
“Foreigners.” He narrowed his eyes. “Quincy.”
The girl’s head snapped up. “Shinigami,” she acknowledged contemptuously (‘angel’ the boy echoed, oddly). She continued in fluent, perfect Japanese--which she was, the shinigami noticed when he got a better look at her: “We have taken care of this evil spirit. You may return now to your world.”
“That Hollow,” the shinigami pronounced with a snort, sliding foot forward. The girl jerked back. That was better. She was only human, after all. “Was under our observation.”
The girl smiled. “Not anymore.”
“I told the old man--”
“Don’t call him an old man! The Father was--”
“—I told the old man I would be fair. I wouldn’t report him. As long as he didn’t interfere with my work. As long as he didn’t take students.” The shinigami scowled. “Apparently he already had students. How old are you?” He said this to the boy, who’d managed finally to stand himself up. He was posed oddly, his hand extended and his bracelet dangling. The shinigami blinked. The girl’s expression turned fearful.
“Don’t.”
The boy dropped his hand.
“…you people give me a headache,” said the shinigami with a sigh. “You’re children. Go back to the…the Mission, right. I’ll tell you the same: Don’t interfere with my work.”
The girl bristled proudly, her eyes bright and hands folded together primly at her chest. “Shinigami--”
“I’m being nice to you. You’ve wasted my time tonight. I don’t like that. Do this to me again and you will be reported.” He turned away, intent to leave it at that. The boy’s voice carried behind him, slow and carefully pronounced:
“Evil falls before us, behind us. We will, we will not suffer it to…”
The shinigami glanced back. The boy was watching him steadily. “Evil?” he raised an eyebrow. “I’m talking about my job.” He pushed off and said no more. He wasn’t interested in holding conversation. If he could find ten more souls to Bury, or twenty or more, maybe they could forgive the missing Hollow. Maybe it wouldn’t look quite so bad—
Quincy, he thought. How annoying. They asked for trouble. Every single one of them.
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-23 02:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-03 02:47 am (UTC)