[fic] Supernova

[kiyala.livejournal.com]

Title: Supernova
Author: kiyala
Word Count: 2523
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo / Ishida Uryuu (also with father-son interaction between Isshin and Ichigo)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Light boylove and one vague mention of sex.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach
Notes: This was written for hidden_gems, who won my first round offer for gulf_aid_now and asked for an IchiIshi fic featuring Isshin.

It is also written as part of the 500themes challenge, using prompt #10 – shooting star.

I’m extremely happy with the way this turned out, actually. I’m amazed I managed to get 2500+ words written in one night. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t post this last night as soon as I was done with it, because my internet connection wasn’t working. D:

---

Supernova.

It is not simply the stars that inspire,
but our great distance that leaves us enthralled
and the realisation that we are simply one small part
of a collective whole.

It’s a good night for a walk. Isshin takes his time, taking in his surroundings. The night air is cool and the stars are bright, the moon a bright crescent in the sky. It is a beautiful view; one that he’d only learned to appreciate in the human world. A few steps ahead of him is another beautiful product of this world: his son, five years old and with a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

It’s just the two of them tonight. Masaki is staying at home with the girls, who had fallen asleep shortly after dinner. Ichigo is enjoying the freedom that comes with the toddlers being at home, as he is free to walk ahead instead of slowing down and staying near the stroller. He crunches fallen autumnal leaves under his feet, jumping from one to the other with his hands spread out for balance. Isshin smiles to himself, watching and marvelling at the energy and innocence, amazed by the fact that he had anything at all to do with its creation.

“Wait for your old man before crossing the road, okay?” he calls out and Ichigo nods – just barely – before going right back to his game of jumping from leaf to leaf.

“Oh, look!”

Isshin glances at the street, eyes widening just a fraction as he notices what Ichigo has seen. To the boy, it is a pile of crisp leaves, just waiting to be jumped into. Isshin sees a disguise. He notices the dark presence of a Hollow, waiting to attack, enticing his son closer.

His hand brushes against his side, an instinctive action, reaching for the zanpakuto that isn’t there. It’s been years, and he still hasn’t lost the habit of reaching for it when there is danger. He remembers his zanpakuto well; he misses it every day, but always reminds himself that the sacrifice was worth it. He’s never missed it more than at this very moment.

“Ichigo!” he covers up the rising panic by sounding like he’s just had the most brilliant idea of his life. His boy stops and turns, looking back at him. Isshin glances at the road; there are no cars. With a giant grin, he declares, “Race you across the street!”

Already, Ichigo is not one to back down from a challenge. With a cry of delight, he runs, crunchy leaves forgotten, short legs working frantically to cross the road. Isshin lets him win the race, but just by a small fraction.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, grinning with genuine happiness, fuelled by his relief. “My little boy is so big already!”

Big enough for Hollows to notice, he thinks bleakly to himself. He forces the thought out of his mind and takes Ichigo’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you a shortcut to the park!”

There are no clouds in the sky and in the large clearing between the trees, the stars look even brighter. Ichigo looks up in wonder, a finger raised as he connects dots to make his own shapes in the night sky. Isshin smiles and points out the handful of constellations he does know, pleased when they fascinate Ichigo.

“So all those ones join together to make—oh hey, look at that one! It’s falling down!”

Isshin sees it, a blazing trail across the sky. “A shooting star,” he murmurs and nudges his son. “Make a wish.”

“Huh?”

“You make wishes when you see shooting stars! Go on.”

Ichigo screws his eyes shut, thinking hard, wishing even harder. “One day, I want to grow up to be big and strong, and I’ll protect everyone!”

Isshin chuckles, amused that Ichigo is still taking the meaning of his name very seriously since it had been explained to him on his last birthday. Ichigo turns to him and smiles brightly. “What did you wish for?”

Pulling his son into a bear hug, Isshin laughs. “That all three of my beautiful children grow up strong and happy! Come on, it’s getting late and we should go home. We can tell your mother all about the shooting star!”

“Yeah!” Ichigo looks excited at this. “Maybe next time she can see a shooting star and make a wish too!”

Karin and Yuzu are both sound asleep by the time Ichigo and Isshin return home. Despite his obvious excitement, Ichigo knows to keep quiet so they aren’t woken up. He runs on his tip-toes to Masaki, socks sliding on the wooden floor.

“Guess what we saw!” he says as quietly as possible, which isn’t very much considering how excited he is. He barely pauses for Masaki to do any actual guessing before telling her. “We saw a shooting star! So we got to make wishes. I wished that I’d be big and strong!”

“Really? I just know you will!” Masaki tells him, with the bright smile Ichigo has inherited. “You’ll be my little shooting star, won’t you?”

Ichigo smiles the innocent smile of someone who has known no suffering.

That will change. But not tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Ichigo comes home from school to find that his parents have bought him a large book entitled The Beginner’s Guide To The Solar System, complete with pictures he pores over for days, until he’s memorised every little fact about the sun and its nine planets.

A star bursts,
an old star dies, a new one formed in its place,
a world destroyed, a new one created and all the while
light years away, we roll in our sleep.

Masaki’s funeral is small and quiet.

By the end of it, Ichigo’s tears are gone. He’s cried them all away and his eyes are dry, too dry. His sisters still sob. His father looks like a man who has had the ground torn away from beneath him.

Ichigo knows. He feels the same. And worse. He feels guilty. As if he could have done something, anything to stop this from happening. He looks at his father, a shadow of the bright, loud and cheerful man he is used to, and thinks to himself that Kurosaki Isshin couldn’t possibly know what this guilt is like. That it’s a silly thing to feel anyway, and so he keeps his mouth shut and mourns for his mother instead of prodding at the questions he can’t quite form at the back of his mind. All he knows is that something is off. Whatever happened, it just isn’t right. And it is his fault.

There is a framed photo of Masaki, against her tombstone. She is happy, and Ichigo can almost hear her, calling him her little shooting star, telling him to keep his chin up, to smile, to stop feeling as if there is a hole in his heart and he is bleeding out of it.

He looks away, wishing that he could cry some more, while at the same time, swearing to himself that he will never cry again. Not when his father is broken. Not when his sisters are distraught. They need someone to help them. To protect them.

Ichigo decides that it is about time he steps up to his namesake.

Black holes are the product of exhaustion
when a star is simply too tired to continue existing
collapsing upon itself, and the most terrifying thing is that
you only realise you’re trapped when it’s too late.

Ichigo is more familiar with the blade in his hands than the books in his school bag.

He wonders what his mother would have thought of that. If she would have seen it coming, because he could see spirits, because they would follow him around and ask for his help.

He is helping them, now.

He wonders if she would be proud.

Even though he never raises these questions to his father, Isshin is sometimes far more clever than he pretends. Ichigo realises this now. Sometimes, Isshin stops by his room as he does his homework. Usually, it is either his physics homework, fuelled by his interest in astronomy, or his literature homework, fuelled by his love for reading, and for Shakespeare.

“She’d be so proud,” Isshin says, and walks away. He says no more, leaving Ichigo to wonder if his father can somehow hear his thoughts. As if somehow, he knows that Ichigo needs the reassurance.

There’s only one person who knows of these periods of self-doubt. That person sits on the floor of Ichigo’s room now, homework spread out in front of them, arms wrapped around their knees.

“Ishida,” Ichigo says quietly, “What did you get for question four, part b?”

“Six metres per second,” is the reply. “You, Kurosaki?”

They say each other’s names as if they are precious, utterly lacking the bite they once had. After the war with Aizen, many things changed. Nearly dying makes one think of what is truly important to them. Almost losing it inspires them to hold onto it.

Isshin leaves them be as they do their homework, ostensibly to allow them to concentrate. Another thing Ichigo has learned from the war is to never underestimate his father again. He knows that Isshin is aware of how close they are. That sometimes, the long pauses between discussing their answers isn’t because they are working. He makes no direct comment of it, but drops hints that he doesn’t mind if Ishida stays for dinner. Or for the night. And that there is a convenience store just down the road that is well-stocked with condoms.

It is amazing, even to Ichigo himself, to think that Ishida is a great source of warmth to him. Ishida, who had introduced himself with a declaration of hatred for him. Ishida, whose demeanour is glacial on a good day.

Ishida, who holds him close and carefully, and allows Ichigo to hold him in turn. Ishida, who is more similar to him than either of them could ever have realised when they had first met.

They are in their final year of school, ready to make their university selections. There are a grand total of four people who know of Ichigo’s desire not to follow in his father’s footsteps into medicine, but choose astronomy; Ichigo’s sisters, father, and Ishida, who is committed to medicine himself.

He discusses it one night with his father, when the girls have gone to bed and Ishida has politely refused to stay the night. They sit on the couch with the television on, volume turned low, neither of them absorbing anything beyond the flickering lights of the screen.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

Ichigo stares at his hands. Even in his human form, they are calloused from more fighting than any eighteen year old should have seen.

“What—what do you think Mum would’ve wanted me to do?” he looks at Isshin and then quickly looks away again. Despite knowing about – and slaying – the Hollow responsible for his mother’s death, he still feels too guilty to look his father in the eye when they speak of her in the past tense. “I mean, for uni. You think she would’ve wanted Dr. Ichigo?”

Isshin hums in thought. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Dad…”

“She’d want the same thing I want. For you to be happy. To do whatever the heck you want. And I think that if she knew her little shooting star was picking astronomy, because that’s the one thing that made him the happiest, she’d be jumping for joy.”

Ichigo smiles and discovers to his surprise that there are tears pricking his eyes. He blinks hard and clears his throat. His voice is still strained when he says, “Thanks.”

“Speaking of Masaki reminds me…”

Ichigo looks up, jaw still tightly clenched to fight off the strong emotions coursing through him. Isshin looks at his son and gives him a small smile.

“I always do my best not to pry, but tell me. When was the last time you told Uryuu-kun that you love him?”

Two people look at the stars,
seeing different things. It doesn’t matter what,
perhaps a familiar pattern, or the past, or the future,
as long as they take the time to appreciate it.

“Is this related in any way to your assignment?” Ishida asks, his smile hidden as he leans into Ichigo’s warm body beside him.

“Well,” Ichigo wraps his arm around Ishida a little tighter, trying to make up for the cold roof tiles beneath them. He looks up at the starry sky and grins a little. “Not really.”

Ishida snorts quietly. “Just as I thought.”

Ichigo’s free hand finds Ishida’s, their fingers interlocking. Ishida squeezes a little and they both smile the way they do when they’re alone together. A secret smile of adoration and comfort that the rest of the world has never seen.

“You really do like stargazing,” Ishida comments, lifting his head to take in the view, which is always breath-taking. “How many nights in a row is this?”

“Only the fourth. If you’re sick of it, you can tell me—”

“Nonsense,” Ishida says and his cheeks colour a little. “This is—romantic, I think.”

“Freezing your butt off while I tell you things you’d never need to know about outer space?” Ichigo asks with a grin, even though there is a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Better than me telling you things you’d never want to know about the human immune system,” Ishida counters. He leans in, placing a small kiss on Ichigo’s lips. “I like hearing about space, and all the things you learn. I like sitting out here, with you.”

Ichigo pulls him into another kiss. This one is longer, and as they pull away from each other, Ishida’s gaze flicks up to the night sky.

“Hey…”

Ichigo looks up and smiles. Streaking across the sky, he sees a shooting star.

“You know what? Sometimes, instead of meteors, shooting stars are just bits of space junk that enter the atmosphere,” he murmurs off the top of his head.

“Still pretty.”

Ichigo looks at Ishida for a moment and smiles. “Make a wish.”

“On what is possibly burning space junk?”

“Humour me. We’ll assume it’s burning rock.”

Ishida looks at the sky, a distant look in his eyes and he thinks and wishes. “Done.”

“What did you wish for?”

“Kurosaki,” Ishida shakes his head, explaining as if to a child, “It won’t come true if I tell you.”

Ichigo snorts. “I wished that things are always going to be like this. Being with you. Being more comfortable with you than anyone else in the world. Loving you as much as I do.”

Ishida is silent for a long moment before he shoves Ichigo with an embarrassed look. “Idiot.”

Ichigo laughs, and as they pull each other closer once again, he hears Ishida say in a quiet voice; “Me too.”

Everything is a matter of perspective.
Sometimes we are insignificant, tiny and lost
in a gigantic universe, without boundaries, forever expanding.
And sometimes, we feel like we have the entire world to ourselves.

x