Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ 30Kisses ❯ Tokyo Babylon ( Chapter 15 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Niu Shiy-Ue 
#1 look over here
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.22.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 449 | Status: Work In Progress
#1 look over here
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.22.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 449 | Status: Work In Progress
Rukia had checked the directions thrice because she hadn't believed it. The Urahara Shouten hadn't looked like a place that catered to nobility. The street bordered a red light district, and the facade had been humble and dingy.
It had been larger inside than out. Light and airy, the shop had proved itself to be exactly what she was expecting. The shopkeeper, on the other hand, exactly matched the outside, with 5:00'clock stubble, suspiciously shaded eyes, and a far too cheerful demeanor. He looked like the type of person you bought cocaine from, only to find out later that you got gypped with flour instead.
Of course, that might have been prejudice on her part. It's hard to work up a positive feeling when someone's waving that big a price tag in front of a potential customer's face.
SWISH! "We also underwrite loans."
"With a price like that, I'm not surprised. Do your investments often pay off?"
"You'd be surprised how many do." He glanced over at her sister. "Are you sure you should be letting her go off like that?"
"I did say it would be her choice." SWISH! She put her hand up, blocking whatever Urahara had just written on that sheet of paper. "A loan will be unnecessary; I'm authorized to draw out a check for the purchase."
"Of course," he eyed her from beneath his ridiculous, striped hat. "I imagine that the Head of the Kuchikis would have full control over finances."
"Heir only, please." The title left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was worse because it was true. Hisana's lack of a zanpakuto and kidou had weakened the position of the already unpopular Head. When she had fallen ill, the 13th Head had been isolated, leaving her sister and heir the de facto leader of the family.
Urahara opened his mouth, but before he could say something, a loud crash from the other room distracted the two of them.
"I want the one with dark eyes." said Hisana.
"What?" asked Rukia, replacing the wet towel on her sister's head.
"The one with dark eyes."
Rukia looked up at the servant who had accompanied Hisana. He shrugged his shoulders. "None of the dolls opened their eyes while we were there."
"Perhaps if you could be a little more specific," prompted the shopkeeper, fluttering his fan.
"The boy with dark blue eyes."
"I see," he darts out, then comes back in. The doll he carries has shorter, straight black hair and is dressed in traditional black haori and hakama. When he sets him down, Rukia notices that the doll is taller than her. And it does indeed, have cobalt eyes, that open and look right at her. "You must have seen it in a dream."
"I have a problem."
"Oh?"
"The doll refuses to respond to my sister. It won't smile at her, it won't drink the milk she offers it. It's sleeping more and more."
"Ah well, you have to remember that plant dolls are finicky creatures. You really must woo them, and woo them sincerely. Otherwise the doll won't thrive at all." SWISH, SWISH! Love is the best nutrition for a plant doll. "In the mean time, why don't you try offering it this milk," he pushed over a small bottle with an exorbitant price tag. "Just to make sure its well nutured while it warms up to your sister."
Rukia sighed and laid out the cash necessary for the purchase. "The doll is doing well otherwise, so I don't think we'll be needing any more service." She shot a glare at the blond man.
"Indeed," another swish of the brush. "By the way, in case of death of the owner, we do offer trade-ins of used products. You can get cash instead, of course, however the value of second-hand goods is only . . . " He displayed the card.
"We won't be needing that."
"So you say."
"Hisana . . . "
"It smiled at me, imouto-chan. I must have done something right." Hisana had woven her kenseikan through the doll's hair.
"But Oneesama, it went right back to-" The doll abruptly awoke and smiled at Rukia. Was the smile a little melancholic or was that just her?
Hisana returned the expression, but there was an edge to her eyes. Rukia had seen the same thing only twice before; the first when she had graduated the Academy with top marks, the second time when the elders had declared that she would be the 14th Head of the Kuchikis. "By the way, have you named him yet?" Rukia asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, I've named him Byakuya. He acts just like a cold arctic night." The doll reached out to take Rukia's hand. To her surprise, it was warm.
"It's quite the mimic, isn't it?"
"Plant doll behavior depends on how they are raised."
"Byakuya acts as formal as the elders, practices my katas and even draws the same way I do."
"That's natural. I know of one plant doll that cut its hair like its owner and started telling fortunes with Tarot."
"What isn't natural is that I don't see anything from my sister there. And she spends the most time with it."
"Is she still giving it milk?"
"What does that have anything to do with it?"
"I'll take that as a no. Some people just have no affinity for plant dolls, no matter how much they cherish one."
"Then wouldn't the doll be wilting by now."
"If you would like to return the doll, I suggest you do so before it 'grows up'."
"You're impossible to talk to!" The door slammed behind her.
"Ah, well, I'm sure you won't need it. You did have instant rapport after all."
"Hisana!"
"Yes?"
"What have you done?"
"What do you mean?"
Rukia turned away from the plant doll, which was even taller than when they had bought it. "It's growing up! Have you been feeding it something other than milk?"
Hisana clenched her fists and teeth. "You know it won't drink milk from anyone other than you now!" The older sister couldn't stay angry for long; her rage left her weak. "You talk to it, it copies you, what else am I supposed to do? It seems to like spicy food, so I've been giving it curry. It is the only way I can get it to even interact with me. Otherwise it just goes to sleep."
"Hisana . . . "
"It doesn't matter. It will be yours soon." Hisana turned away. Rukia, realizing that this conversation was over, walked to the door to resume her duties. Just as she reached the door she heard Hisana whisper something. It was so soft, she didn't think her sister had meant her to hear it. "Just like everything else."
The funeral was small, just her, the elders and . . .
It was no surprise. Hisana had been a bedridden invalid for several months before her death and before that her tenure as acting Head of the Kuchikis had been so short, most people had just assumed Rukia had been appointed immediately after their mother's death. Hisana had had an isolated childhood and during her short tenure as an adult, she had been completely overshadowed by her more talented younger sister.
The day was cold, but bright and sunny. Rukia felt it should have been raining; if no person would mourn Hisana, the sky should at least give her that honor. Her sister had tried, even if she had never been suited for the role Hisana had been given, and she deserved more than a simple, undignified grave in the corner of the family plot. But Rukia felt that speaking up would be hypocritical, after all, she herself had been part of what made Hisana's life so horrible. It wasn't fair that she had become everything that Hisana was supposed to have been and inherited everything that the older sister was supposed to have had.
A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up into cobalt eyes. The plant doll had matured. Byakuya was taller than anyone else there, and it was nearly impossible to tell that he was anything other than human. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked her.
Rukia nodded. But as she turned away from her sister's grave, she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive him for choosing her over Hisana?
It had been larger inside than out. Light and airy, the shop had proved itself to be exactly what she was expecting. The shopkeeper, on the other hand, exactly matched the outside, with 5:00'clock stubble, suspiciously shaded eyes, and a far too cheerful demeanor. He looked like the type of person you bought cocaine from, only to find out later that you got gypped with flour instead.
Of course, that might have been prejudice on her part. It's hard to work up a positive feeling when someone's waving that big a price tag in front of a potential customer's face.
SWISH! "We also underwrite loans."
"With a price like that, I'm not surprised. Do your investments often pay off?"
"You'd be surprised how many do." He glanced over at her sister. "Are you sure you should be letting her go off like that?"
"I did say it would be her choice." SWISH! She put her hand up, blocking whatever Urahara had just written on that sheet of paper. "A loan will be unnecessary; I'm authorized to draw out a check for the purchase."
"Of course," he eyed her from beneath his ridiculous, striped hat. "I imagine that the Head of the Kuchikis would have full control over finances."
"Heir only, please." The title left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was worse because it was true. Hisana's lack of a zanpakuto and kidou had weakened the position of the already unpopular Head. When she had fallen ill, the 13th Head had been isolated, leaving her sister and heir the de facto leader of the family.
Urahara opened his mouth, but before he could say something, a loud crash from the other room distracted the two of them.
"I want the one with dark eyes." said Hisana.
"What?" asked Rukia, replacing the wet towel on her sister's head.
"The one with dark eyes."
Rukia looked up at the servant who had accompanied Hisana. He shrugged his shoulders. "None of the dolls opened their eyes while we were there."
"Perhaps if you could be a little more specific," prompted the shopkeeper, fluttering his fan.
"The boy with dark blue eyes."
"I see," he darts out, then comes back in. The doll he carries has shorter, straight black hair and is dressed in traditional black haori and hakama. When he sets him down, Rukia notices that the doll is taller than her. And it does indeed, have cobalt eyes, that open and look right at her. "You must have seen it in a dream."
"I have a problem."
"Oh?"
"The doll refuses to respond to my sister. It won't smile at her, it won't drink the milk she offers it. It's sleeping more and more."
"Ah well, you have to remember that plant dolls are finicky creatures. You really must woo them, and woo them sincerely. Otherwise the doll won't thrive at all." SWISH, SWISH! Love is the best nutrition for a plant doll. "In the mean time, why don't you try offering it this milk," he pushed over a small bottle with an exorbitant price tag. "Just to make sure its well nutured while it warms up to your sister."
Rukia sighed and laid out the cash necessary for the purchase. "The doll is doing well otherwise, so I don't think we'll be needing any more service." She shot a glare at the blond man.
"Indeed," another swish of the brush. "By the way, in case of death of the owner, we do offer trade-ins of used products. You can get cash instead, of course, however the value of second-hand goods is only . . . " He displayed the card.
"We won't be needing that."
"So you say."
"Hisana . . . "
"It smiled at me, imouto-chan. I must have done something right." Hisana had woven her kenseikan through the doll's hair.
"But Oneesama, it went right back to-" The doll abruptly awoke and smiled at Rukia. Was the smile a little melancholic or was that just her?
Hisana returned the expression, but there was an edge to her eyes. Rukia had seen the same thing only twice before; the first when she had graduated the Academy with top marks, the second time when the elders had declared that she would be the 14th Head of the Kuchikis. "By the way, have you named him yet?" Rukia asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, I've named him Byakuya. He acts just like a cold arctic night." The doll reached out to take Rukia's hand. To her surprise, it was warm.
"It's quite the mimic, isn't it?"
"Plant doll behavior depends on how they are raised."
"Byakuya acts as formal as the elders, practices my katas and even draws the same way I do."
"That's natural. I know of one plant doll that cut its hair like its owner and started telling fortunes with Tarot."
"What isn't natural is that I don't see anything from my sister there. And she spends the most time with it."
"Is she still giving it milk?"
"What does that have anything to do with it?"
"I'll take that as a no. Some people just have no affinity for plant dolls, no matter how much they cherish one."
"Then wouldn't the doll be wilting by now."
"If you would like to return the doll, I suggest you do so before it 'grows up'."
"You're impossible to talk to!" The door slammed behind her.
"Ah, well, I'm sure you won't need it. You did have instant rapport after all."
"Hisana!"
"Yes?"
"What have you done?"
"What do you mean?"
Rukia turned away from the plant doll, which was even taller than when they had bought it. "It's growing up! Have you been feeding it something other than milk?"
Hisana clenched her fists and teeth. "You know it won't drink milk from anyone other than you now!" The older sister couldn't stay angry for long; her rage left her weak. "You talk to it, it copies you, what else am I supposed to do? It seems to like spicy food, so I've been giving it curry. It is the only way I can get it to even interact with me. Otherwise it just goes to sleep."
"Hisana . . . "
"It doesn't matter. It will be yours soon." Hisana turned away. Rukia, realizing that this conversation was over, walked to the door to resume her duties. Just as she reached the door she heard Hisana whisper something. It was so soft, she didn't think her sister had meant her to hear it. "Just like everything else."
The funeral was small, just her, the elders and . . .
It was no surprise. Hisana had been a bedridden invalid for several months before her death and before that her tenure as acting Head of the Kuchikis had been so short, most people had just assumed Rukia had been appointed immediately after their mother's death. Hisana had had an isolated childhood and during her short tenure as an adult, she had been completely overshadowed by her more talented younger sister.
The day was cold, but bright and sunny. Rukia felt it should have been raining; if no person would mourn Hisana, the sky should at least give her that honor. Her sister had tried, even if she had never been suited for the role Hisana had been given, and she deserved more than a simple, undignified grave in the corner of the family plot. But Rukia felt that speaking up would be hypocritical, after all, she herself had been part of what made Hisana's life so horrible. It wasn't fair that she had become everything that Hisana was supposed to have been and inherited everything that the older sister was supposed to have had.
A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up into cobalt eyes. The plant doll had matured. Byakuya was taller than anyone else there, and it was nearly impossible to tell that he was anything other than human. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked her.
Rukia nodded. But as she turned away from her sister's grave, she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive him for choosing her over Hisana?