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Whisper To Me	By : Strailo Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 9092 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters. their respective owners do. I make absolutely no money from this or any fanfiction I write.

Chapter List
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Title: Whisper to Me

Fandom: Bleach/Kuroshitsuji

Part: 22

Characters: Ryuuken

Word count: 1,456

Warnings: Emotional abuse/battering, past

AN: This one hurt to write. I had to explain why it was there was such a rift since, as far as my knowledge, there was no real explanation. So here you go. Have some feels.
*~*~*~*
He played with his cigarette pack for a moment before tapping one out of the long white sticks, taking in the faintly minty scent of it as he stuck it between his lips. Scraping a match across the scratch pad of the match pack’s back, he lit the cigarette and drew in a deep breath before letting it out with a slow breath, eyes closed as he dropped the match into the ash tray. The taste of it and the flush of nicotine through his system made him relax slowly as he opened his eyes to stare out of his apartment over downtown Karakura.
He turned from the window and gazed at the glinting Quincy focus that sat in its box, the elegant lines and delicate look of it something that still amazed him every time he gazed upon it. Masaki had created it when she had been young, no more than a teenager really, using specialized metal that was infused with her own spiritual power. The very same power that ran through her eldest child, the only child that still lived.
Swallowing at the thought of the two girls that had died because of a plot that had been contrived by the hidden underworld of Seireitei and Soul Society, he rubbed at his face before taking another drag of his cigarette. Tapping the ash off of the tip of it, he moved away from the window and stroked over the Quincy cross with a hum. It looked much like some of the Celtic crosses that he often saw the younger generation mixing and matching with their outfits but the bottom part of the cross was pointed downwards in something that looked like a knife. The design on it looked like ribbon that twined together while the traditional circle only circled the top half of the cross.
It screamed Ichigo and the way he was making him smile at the sight of his cousin’s personality coming from such a delicate focus. He would give it to Ichigo in a few days when his training in his Quincy abilities started.
Shaking his head, his lips pulling into a frown as he gazed at a smaller, five point starred Quincy cross that he had made for his own child but had never given him, Ryuuken sighed and sat down in his chair. His legs stretched out before him. He picked up the cross and stroked his fingers over it, doubting that his child would ever care to receive it from him. He knew that Uryu preferred the one that his grandfather had made him when he had needed a new focus.
He doubted that his child would ever want the focus that he created since they had such a huge rift between them. Ryuuken supposed that was his fault considering how he had felt about the relationship between him and Souken. But to see his father treat his grandson like the most precious of children when he had treated his own son as a thing to be trained and used had hurt. Deeply.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out after a few minutes, eyes closing as he brought his cigarette back to his mouth and stuck it between his lips. Dragging in a stream of smoke before letting it loose, he picked up the cross and stroked over the delicate lines that crisscrossed and curled around together.
“Ah, but how to tell your child that his loving grandfather was a bastard to his disappointment of a son?” Ryuuken snorted, shaking his head with a grunt, glaring at the one picture of his father that he still had. It was the one picture that he had actually consented to having and only because Masaki was a part of the picture too.
Standing up once more, he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and snuffed it harshly in the ashtray next to him before stalking to the window once more.
He had few happy memories from his childhood, and they consisted of Masaki after they started to train with each other. Every other moment that he could remember through his childhood and life had been filled with training, studying and physical sparring that had left him bruised and battered. And all with that quiet disappointment that radiated from his father the entire time tinting the air around him.
It had left more of a mark on Ryuuken then having a hollow claw him hard enough on his side to incapacitate him for weeks at a time had. His father had played the doting and worried father in public and in front of those that helped to take care of him, but once behind doors, Souken had been quite unhappy with him and how he had been wounded by a Hollow.
Especially one that Souken considered weak and one that his child could have taken easily if needed, despite the fact that they had a shaky treaty at the time with the Shinigami of Karakura about being a first line offense. Ryuuken’s training had gotten worse after that, to the point where he had lost sleep to keep up with the rest of his life so he could make it seem like nothing was wrong.
It had been when he had collapsed in the middle of class one day that the teachers had gotten hissy about him losing sleep and food. His father had backed off but still the training had been hard and trying.
When he had turned 18 and left for college, Masaki having long lost contact with them to protect both of them for whatever reason, Ryuuken had felt freedom for the first time. He had then married Katagiri, a female Quincy who had been a Gemischt Quincy, or half blood Quincy, to his Echt Quincy, or pure blood. She had given him Uryu but had died when he had been six, about three months after she had collapsed on the very day that Masaki had died.
It hurt his heart thinking of his lovely wife, a women who had been utterly devoted to him but he himself had been unable to truly give her his heart, but she had been a salve to him. A reason to continue on with life after he had lost her and after the rift between him and Uryu had started to grow.
Rubbing at his neck, he groaned softly at the thought of all of the years that he had spent training and learning under his father before he had gotten free. But he had been surprised that Souken had been so gentle with Uryu, not expecting it from the man that treated all of his trainees as objects instead of people. But then again, Uryu’s training hadn’t started once he started to walk but rather when he had been four years of age.
To see how much Souken had cared for, had been careful with, Uryu had brought up a lot of hurt and pain that turned into a dark anger that he had worked to keep from his child. He supposed that had been the start of the rift and it had only gotten wider after Souken’s death, Ryuuken unable to do much more then set up the funeral for him and bury his body.
Uryu hadn’t understood his father’s cold indifference to his grandfather and had been hurt by Ryuuken’s inability to tell him why he was so cold to the man. It had hurt him just as much as it had hurt his son and the rift had grown, drowning the both of them.
After that, Ryuuken was the man who ran a hospital, seemingly hated his Quincy heritage and paid his bills for his apartment, occasionally adding a few dollars for this and that to Uryu. They didn’t have the relationship that they had had when they had been father and son, losing it slowly over the years, even before Souken’s death.
Sighing, Ryuuken put the cross down into its own casing before closing it and the case that held Ichigo’s cross, sliding Uryu’s case into the drawer that it had sat in since his wife’s death. The case for Ichigo’s went into his briefcase, just in case he needed it sooner, and the briefcase was placed on the hall table for the next morning. He knew that he would have to tell Uryu just how his childhood was compared to his sons but he dreaded that conversation, feeling as if his child wouldn’t believe his words. Rolling his shoulders with a moan, he closed his eyes and rubbed at his neck, tilting his head up for a moment before heading to his bedroom.
He would tell his son before things happened with Seireitei and could only hope that Uryu would believe him.
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Whisper To Me