#we'll never tell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheshiresense · 12 days ago

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In the Ichigo & Starrk time travel 'verse I'm just picturing Ichigo registering for the academy like "I'm Ichigo. From the rukongai. No last name" and then kaien popping up like "he's a Shiba!!!" And the people there looking at each other and whispering like "ohhhh he wants to be independent and not rely on his family name!! How sweet!!!" and then Ichigo just sighing. XD

LMAO with his luck, this is exactly what happened.

Meanwhile Starrk's over there in the corner filling out his application forms and thanking every god he wants to beat up I find it rly funny to imagine he has this passive-aggressive grudge against Mimihagi for a variety of reasons that he in no way, shape, or form resembles any of the five big clans. But it would also be really funny to me if people at the admin desk looked at him, and then looked twice, and then looked thrice, and then be like "You sure you're not a Kyouraku?", because let's face it, he really does look a bit like Shunsui. Like it's not immediately noticeable the way Ichigo is with the Shibas, but if Starrk and Shunsui showed up and claimed they were blood-related, probably no one would doubt it.

And at any other time, people might not think of the possibility, but there just so happens to be a Kyouraku relative - even if she's just a bastard - attending the Academy at the moment, and all the teachers and staff are always made aware of any clan children in their halls. The Kyouraku Family isn't one of the Big Five, they're a Lower Noble House and also not a Shinigami-oriented clan, more politicians and scholars and even artisans than soldiers, but they're old and prestigious and the highest-ranked out of all the Lower Noble Houses, so the Academy paid attention when one of them decided to become a Shinigami for the first time in centuries. She ends up being a disappointment with none of her cousin's talent or charisma or wit, and the Eighth Division captain hasn't pushed hard enough for them to really show her any favouritism, but they've still kept an eye on her to make sure the bullying doesn't get too bad and she doesn't fall too far behind, lest they bring her family's wrath down on them, because it doesn't seem like most of her clan cares about her but who even knows with nobles and the things that set off their sense of pride.

But that means Starrk's looks immediately ring a few bells when he shows up. Of course, he denies it; unlike Ichigo, he really doesn't have any relation to the Kyourakus, although even back in their own timeline, a few people had made that mistake when they didn't know he was a Hollow, had thought he was some Kyouraku relative Shunsui had dug up to help out, because not everyone who goes through the Academy becomes a Shinigami, sometimes they're clan members who go home afterwards to guard the family and continue their own training there, plus with Starrk's strength and skill set - 1) powerful, and 2) sharing quite a few similarities to Shunsui's so it's not even just their looks - it had actually been more far-fetched to a lot of people for him to have just been some random nobody than to be a member of this powerful clan.

But no, no blood relation, just a quirk of fate. Still, the Academy notes his name down and makes sure to keep more tabs on his progress than they would an average Rukongai student. And alright, the teachers can be overly biased or overly indifferent depending on the student but they're not actually stupid, and yeah, for a while, it's Shiba Ichigo who takes up all their attention because Ichigo blows all the other students out of the water and skyrockets straight up to a category of genius nobody's ever seen before, even more impressive than his lieutenant cousin and slated to graduate in a year. It helps (Ichigo: "No it fucking doesn't.") that Kaien is constantly buzzing around making sure Ichigo is treated like a prince befitting of a Great Noble House so no one dares make his life difficult. Well, Koyonagi would probably dare, but fortunately (Ichigo: "No it fucking isn't."), he likes Ichigo enough to not hamper him in any way, even if he does come up with all sorts of annoying tasks to heap on Ichigo "for extra credit" (Ichigo: "For his own entertainment.").

Starrk in the meantime is about as entertained by all this as a passively suicidal grieving widow war vet can get, and he makes no effort to hide it every time Ichigo comes to hide in his room and bitch to him about it, because really, it's partly the kid's own fault for not knowing subtlety even if it shoots him in the face. It's harmless enough anyway so long as Ichigo doesn't stand out more than he already has, so Starrk doesn't see a problem with kicking back and enjoying the show. Right up until the novelty of a prodigal Shiba starts wearing off on the Academy teachers because it's not like they've never seen geniuses before even if this one is a little more unique. So the turn their attentions elsewhere and suddenly realize that the guy who might be another bastard Kyouraku and spends more time asleep than awake have some really interesting grades when they look at them altogether at the end of term. Average in everything—so average it's suspicious, meaning Starrk either has the weirdest luck in the universe or he's literally calculating everything he's doing in class to make sure he always falls within a very specific range. Koyonagi had already noticed of course, and he's checked all the boxes that would jump Starrk up to sixth year starting next semester, but the other teachers catch on quickly enough too, and then they also start taking a fourth and fifth look at him.

Now it's Ichigo's turn to be Very Amused. Shouldn't have laughed at his suffering, huh? Karma's a real bitch.

Starrk is Not Amused, but also he can be just as stubborn as Ichigo, even if it's in the opposite direction. Ichigo very stubbornly isn't willing to be held back, he can do more as an official member of the Gotei, and slogging through six years at the Academy is just wasting time. If he has to graduate in the least amount of time possible and thereby be seen as a genius anyway, he might as well put himself out of his misery early and get that out of the way right off the bat. At least then, by the time he graduates, some of the shine will have hopefully worn off for the masses after they've gotten used to him.

Likewise, Starrk very stubbornly isn't willing to be anyone's show pony. Ichigo isn't either, but Ichigo's solution is to just ignore the fact that he sort of is, for the sake of exempting himself from fatal boredom. In contrast, Starrk 100% doesn't mind going to lectures when nobody can stop him from sleeping through them anyway, and he always turns in his homework on time and never fails his tests either so the teachers can't complain. The training sessions in the practical courses are more annoying but he doesn't usually have to do much there either, especially once he's jumped to the sixth-year courses where the teachers teach less and more often pair them up for spars or take them to fight very low-level Hollows they've captured instead. And since he's been noticed now, he doesn't care about maintaining average scores anymore because once you finish your spar or kill your assigned Hollow, you get to sit around and do nothing until everybody else is done, which suits Starrk just fine.

Koyonagi calls him to his office a couple more times, but as Starrk expects, the man grows increasingly bored with Starrk's lack of a reaction to anything he says. He even pokes at him from the "bastard Kyouraku abandoned in the Rukongai" angle, which almost makes Starrk laugh, because from a hierarchical standpoint, and to all these proudly intolerant Shinigami, even an unwanted bastard disowned from a noble clan would already be several steps up from what Starrk actually is.

There's no substance to this insult anyway, because Starrk really isn't a Kyouraku, and what does a Hollow care about noble blood or lack thereof? Koyonagi takes his shot in the dark and misses, and maybe he sees the amused pity that even Starrk can't quite hide this time, because the man's own eyes go flat with displeasure, for once probably aimed more at himself than Starrk because men like Koyonagi don't like making such crude mistakes. He dismisses Starrk and never calls him back again, although Starrk thinks that might have something to do with Ichigo, who hasn't been best pleased for a while now about Koyonagi harassing Starrk in a way that's completely different from his own harassment, and everyone knows - or will soon discover once again - that it's all fun and games until Ichigo puts his foot down. Either way, Koyonagi gives up trying to make Starrk prey, and Starrk chats his way past the Academy chefs one evening to make a spicy mentaiko udon just for Ichigo as thanks.

So in the end, they both think that's the end of that. Ichigo still has his fair share of secret admirers and envious onlookers and background sycophants looking for an easy ride into the Gotei, but his prickly disposition wards off most of them, and Starrk's flat, indifferent gaze from over Ichigo's shoulder - like he could bury you tomorrow and forget you ever existed the moment it's done - scares away the rest.

And Starrk is likewise acknowledged as another genius, but he's so unmotivated about doing anything with that genius that most of the other students don't really notice, and it's hard for even the teachers to make a big deal out of it. Eventually, they stop trying to galvanize him into displaying more of his abilities, if only to catch a squad's attention, and just let him do what he wants. Geniuses, what can you do? Each one is quirkier than the last.

So that's the end of that.

Except-

Quietly, in the background, possibly Koyonagi's roundabout way of revenge, possibly just the Shinigami's inexplicable attachment to all things bloodlines and pedigrees, the Academy comes to the enlightened conclusion that Starrk must be a Kyouraku. Maybe a branch member who doesn't want attention - seems very Starrk - or he really had been disowned, or there's some other circumstance they're not aware of, but nobility is full of drama so it could be anything. Whatever it is, they collectively agree that this assumption must be true, and over the course of the passing months, it becomes an acknowledged fact that nobody really talks about.

Starrk is lazy, but he's not unpleasant to be around. Who doesn't like an intelligent student? He's also polite, always patient when teachers flag him down for yet another chat despite refusing all opportunities to show off a little, and the Academy chefs adore him because that man can cook - his future wife will be very lucky - and he always has time to trade recipes with them. And on the occasions where some of the youngest students who'd shared classes with Starrk back in the first term approach him with questions on one subject or another, Starrk would frown and sigh a lot, but he would also sit down and answer them one by one, indulgent in a way people wouldn't expect just by looking at him.

If he really is a disowned bastard, well, privately they think that's the Kyourakus' loss, but it also means that it's probably a pretty sensitive topic to Starrk, as these things tend to be, so it's better not to throw it in his face. They're not Koyonagi after all.

(They don't understand for quite a while to come why Koyonagi always rolls his eyes and leaves the room whenever they talk about it amongst themselves.)

To be fair, they really can't be wholly blamed for coming to this conclusion despite all lack of solid evidence and testimony.

First of all, Starrk really does share a physical likeness with the Gotei 13's very well-known Eighth Division captain. Their builds are different - one broad, the other lean - but they're both tall with high cheekbones, and they share the same colouring, grey eyes and brown hair and light skin. In that, Fujiwara's the exact same way, and she is a Kyouraku branch member. It's just even more obvious with Starrk because he's male, plus a few of the Academy teachers have been around long enough to still remember Shunsui before he'd grown his hair out, and Starrk resembles that version even more.

Secondly, and this was less conspicuous, but the teachers had even dug out some of Kyouraku Shunsui's very old, very dusty papers from his Academy days for comparison.

In terms of personality, the two are almost complete opposites. One flamboyant, the other solemn. One outgoing, the other reserved. One a flirt who socializes enough for ten, the other would rather stay in bed and sleep the day away. It's just that Starrk is surprisingly good with people when he tries, and some can recall that even Kyouraku Shunsui had had his moments of quiet contemplation, which only puts more stock in the familial tie theory.

But it's in terms of mindset that really drives it home for them, because when it comes to the way they look at the world, they sync up to an almost frightening degree.

They unearth the captain's old papers from the library archives, and it's been years, centuries, but Shinigami don't tend to change much. If anything, Kyouraku Shunsui’s essays read more immaturely than Starrk’s, but the foundational reasoning from both men is solid.

They review them, and then they look at Starrk's again, and Starrk might leave questions blank on homework and tests but he's never skimped on answers when he does turn them in, and a lot of those questions are essay topics - similar enough even between Kyouraku Shunsui's generation and the current one to make a fair comparison - about hypothetical situations on the battlefield, in a fight, if you meet an ally, if you meet an enemy, if you have to choose who to save, if you have to choose who to let die—what would you do?

The respective responses are evidently written by two different people, well-debated and well-presented, but at the same time, even hundreds of years apart, their opinions and strategies and perspectives and choices on almost every single topic are near-interchangeable.

(They can't have known that Starrk had spent seven years at Shunsui's side, watching him lead, watching him fight, watching him wage a war and command his soldiers and protect his people to the best of his ability... and ultimately fail. They can't have known that he'd spent one final year leading the gutted remains of a Gotei in Shunsui's name to the best of his own ability... and also fail in all the ways that had mattered. They can't have known that even before those years, the two of them had met across a battlefield and crossed minds as much as blades, and even then, they hadn't felt like strangers to each other.)

[AUTHOR INTERRUPTS TO SAY I actually didn't want to mention Starrk's Zanpakutou like this because I have a whole thing planned out for it, as in I was insane enough one day and spent an entire afternoon creating a Bankai for him, but I also think some of you guys have probably guessed at least a bit of what his Zanpakutou looks like since I've dropped a few hints in previous snippets, so whatever, I'll just confirm its sealed form now. I guess this officially makes this snippet not part of the AU though cuz I originally had him not revealing his Zanpakutou until like a year after he graduates, post-time travel reveal. And going forward, he'd be meeting Shunsui differently here since originally their first meeting is at one of Asuka's tutoring sessions. But whatever, you can just go with whichever version you like best. Anyway, let's get on with my increasingly off-topic snippet lmao, sorry Anon.]

And last but most definitely not least, even disregarding everything else, Starrk's Zanpakutou alone is simply a Glaringly Obvious Sign From The Heavens. It's not that people from the same family always share similar Zanpakutou, but it's not exactly uncommon either—just look at the Shibas, they all have elemental Zanpakutou, and the newest one will probably go the same way; the Kuchikis have katanas with identical guards and always a white hilt or sheath; and not a single member of the Feng family that's passed through the Academy has ever left with anything but a wakizashi.

It's especially hard not to make certain connections that lead to the most obvious conclusion when everybody knows that Kyouraku Shunsui is the only Shinigami in living memory to wield a Zanpakutou that exists as two separate blades in its sealed form.

And now there is another.

The first time Starrk had finally removed his Zanpakutou - his entire Zanpakutou - from that wooden case he always carries around over one shoulder for a Zanjutsu assessment compulsory for graduation, the entire room had first gone dead silent, then burst into an uproar. Thankfully, it was a private assessment so there'd only been Starrk and several teachers inside.

They'd all thought they'd seen his Zanpakutou before - after all, he has to use a weapon in his Zanjutsu classes - but apparently, he'd always only taken one blade out for training.

A katana and a wakizashi, a daishou pair, each with a pale gold hilt, a darker gold sheath, and a blue-grey rectangular guard decorated by a sun design. Almost exactly like Kyouraku Shunsui's tachi and wakizashi, with their dark blue hilts and gold rectangular guards decorated by cherry blossom petals.

The meaning of it all could not possibly be clearer. At this point, if they're not family, they would have to be the kind of soulmates you would only find in one of those ridiculously sappy unrealistic romance novels.

(They can't have known that sometimes fate likes its jokes a little too much, and its favourites have always been the butt of them.)

Miracle of miracles, the pseudo-secret of Starrk's Zanpakutou doesn't leak right away. Starrk obviously doesn't want the attention for one reason or another, and the teachers have no real cause to spread it around so they don't. For one, they like him enough to cater to his very simple wishes, and for another, this man is clearly going to be a very powerful Shinigami one day, very likely to snag a captaincy sooner or later, and every noble clan is the same—if Starrk really is disowned, once the Kyouraku Family gets wind of what he can do, he won't be for much longer. And on top of all that, Starrk seems to be friends with the Shibas' most recent pride and joy; that's a connection that will get him far even without his own clan's backing. The Academy doesn't have much to do with the goings-on in the Gotei 13 or the government or the courts of aristocracy, but there's no need to make enemies when they don't have to.

Then comes the day Kyouraku Shunsui himself comes around for a visit.

This in itself is not new. The only career Shinigami from the Kyouraku Family isn't one to throw his weight around too much the way a lot of the other clans like to do for their kin, but he still checks up on his cousin two or three times a year, which in their opinion is already pretty admirable considering Fujiwara is not only from about as distant a branch as one can get, but also illegitimate, out of favour with her clan, and... well, painfully average in a way that means they all have to wrack their brains for compliments every time the captain shows up to ask about her.

Fortunately, for the first time since he'd taken up a position at the school, Koyonagi had done them all a favour and assigned her a tutor capable of working miracles, and so they can very happily and very honestly tell Kyouraku Shunsui all about the leaps in progress Fujiwara has made over the past several months.

The captain listens with a smile that's equal parts amicable and unfathomable, nodding in all the right places. He thanks them for their hard work even as he rakes a discerning eye over them that has them all sweating internally, but at least he also seems willing enough to not make things difficult for them now that Fujiwara is thriving under Shiba Ichigo's protection.

And that should've been it. That would've been it if Akabane Shiina, head of the Kidou department and arguably Starrk's favourite because he actually stays awake in her classes - he's certainly her favourite if the way she gushes about his gloriously tricky projects to a very resentful audience in the staffroom is anything to go by - suddenly bursts out just as the captain is making to leave:

"Are you not going to ask about your other relative?" She demands, her voice gone strident with righteous indignation. "Is it because he really was disowned and cast out into the Rukongai? But he is still better than Fujiwara!"

Shiina has no eyes for anyone without talent in Kidou. She doesn't have a problem with Fujiwara, and in fact, out of the four combat forms, Fujiwara is best at Kidou, although that might not last with the way she's catching up in all the other fields under Shiba Ichigo's tutelage, and Shiba Ichigo is notoriously slow at Kidou so he can't teach her anything in that area. But even on her own, Fujiwara's competency in Kidou is enough to meet all graduation requirements, and she'd even done fairly well in the fourth-year course Shiina had taught last year, certainly better than all her other subjects. However, she doesn't have the kind of flair for it that Shiina values.

Starrk does. And Shiina apparently does not appreciate her favourite pupil being dismissed out of hand just because he's considered one step lower on the social ladder than Fujiwara. Sure, Starrk is far more talented than Fujiwara; he's the last person anybody needs to worry about when it comes to graduating. But that's just all the more reason he deserves at least passing acknowledgement from a captain. And yet Kyouraku Shunsui can show concern for a neglected bastard but not a disowned bastard? Don't make her laugh.

Her temper has always been a straightforward creature, and so she ignores her colleagues' frantic squinting and meets Kyouraku Shunsui's gaze head-on when he pauses and then turns back, except he looks... entirely puzzled.

"Other relative?" The man echoes, looking genuinely baffled. "Did my clan send another child to the Academy? Maa, I wasn't informed. And Asuka-chan hasn't mentioned anything to me either."

A moment of silence follows. Shiina glares suspiciously at the pink-clad captain, who waits her out with the same unflappable calm Starrk pulls out whenever Shiina gets too excited about a Kidou seal and babbles for half an hour straight.

And she's supposed to believe these two have no relation to each other?

"He is not a child," She finally says. She doesn't know how old Starrk is, but it's very obvious he has at least several hundred years under his belt. He makes her feel young sometimes, and she's almost four hundred years old. "He came here from the Rukongai, with Shiba Ichigo."

She watches the way Kyouraku's eyes flicker as he takes in this information, but he doesn't emote anything except mild curiosity.

"Ah, I think I've heard a few things about Ichigo-kun's companion," Kyouraku muses. "Coyote Starrk, wasn't it? Also slated to graduate by the end of the year? But I'm afraid my clan definitely doesn't have a branch family by that name."

Well obviously, if he'd been disowned. He'd probably picked it for himself.

Kyouraku smiles a bit at whatever expression has crossed Shiina's face. It should be a scathing one. It feels scathing.

"But now I'm curious," Kyouraku continues, one hand reaching up to tilt his hat up. "For everybody-" His gaze sweeps the room, making everyone straighten in their seats. "-to think he's related to me of all people—we must be very obviously alike in some way."

Shiina scoffs, unimpressed. In some way? Try in every way.

But, at least he hasn't been ignoring Starrk on purpose. Mentally, Shiina grudgingly returns the 50 points she'd docked from him earlier.

She's about to interrogate him about what he's going to do about his curiosity - so help her, if he finds out Starrk really is family, then lets Starrk know that he knows now, and then rejects him for being disowned, captain or no, she's going to make him pay - when one of her colleagues, Koyonagi's gopher actually, because the man himself couldn't be bothered to show up, so as always, he'd sent his nominal vice-department head, interrupts.

"Are you certain you’ve never met?" The man blurts out like he can’t help himself. Especially now that Shiina’s fielded the hard part, and Kyouraku hasn’t taken offense. "Surely you've discussed his essays at least!"

Kyouraku arches an eyebrow. "I can't say I have. But what makes you say that?"

The Zanjutsu teacher flounders. The sixth-year Philosophy teacher is less unprepared and simply pulls out a folder, only about a third full, but they still have a little over a month to go. At least it lets the teachers spread them out a bit instead of having to read them all at once at the end. It was the original reason for the meeting today before Kyouraku had dropped by—going through some of these papers while their workload is still relatively light.

There is an essay question assigned to every student at the beginning of their final year at the Academy. Unlike all other assignments, this one must be completed in order to graduate whether or not your grades are up to par. Students have the whole year to finish it, but it can be handed in anytime.

It's long been said that the the essay question is something Yamamoto Genryuusai himself had come up with, originally posed to his two personal students hundreds of years ago, and unlike all other topics where the details would at least be switched up from year to year, this one has never changed since it had first been included in the curriculum.

To defend honour or to protect life—which should a Shinigami of the Gotei 13 choose to uphold? Why? Which would you choose? Why?

There is actually no correct answer. So long as the paper is written with some thought put in, it’s an automatic pass. But every year without fail, the lieutenant of the First will come by and cart the whole pile away. Nobody can say for sure what happens to them.

Nevertheless, most students choose honour for both parts of the question. Whether they believe it or not, they at least know the politically correct answer, the safe one. Some of the more outspoken students - usually Rukon stock - might choose honour for the first part but argue life for the second part.

Kyouraku Shunsui had been the only one in Academy history to have chosen life for both parts, and now, Coyote Starrk and Shiba Ichigo have joined him.

Shiina watches as Kyouraku wanders back over to peer down at the two essays the Philosophy teacher lays out on the table. She watches as the captain smiles, appreciative and a little amused, as he scans Shiba Ichigo's paper—a fierce discourse on the importance of friends and family, of prioritizing comrades even if it means breaking the law, of doing right by them even if it means discarding the honour of the Gotei or your own honour as a Shinigami because there's no honour in abandoning your loved ones.

And then she watches his gaze move to the other paper, and she watches as his smile fades and his expression goes still. His hand comes up again to tug down the brim of his hat but he never looks up from the essay—a succinct dissertation on doing everything possible to preserve the lives of those in your care, because the duty of a Shinigami to the Gotei 13 is first and foremost to protect the people who depend on them, to shield the world they all reside in, to stand between danger and the realms they have been charged with safeguarding.

—What does honour matter when you cannot protect what you have sworn to protect?

—When you make the choice to step on a battlefield, you are choosing to do all in your power to seize victory, because anything less is an insult to those who have placed their trust in you, a threat to those who rely on you, and a broken oath to those you gave your word to protect.

—When you make the choice to kill, because taking a life is in itself an evil act, you are choosing to carry the necessary sins that will be demanded of you in battle so that others will not have to.

—When you make the choice to protect, you are choosing to discard your honour, because honour will not protect your people. It will not protect the world. It will not protect anything save your own sense of righteousness, and what is that worth if all you care for is gone?

—To be a Shinigami means to shoulder the weight of countless souls. In essence, it is a promise to protect life to the very end, and if honour is the cost, then it is a small price to pay.

Shiina has read Starrk's paper several times already. She had even made her own copy.

She thinks he will make an exceptional Shinigami.

Nobody says a word even after enough time has passed for Kyouraku to have read the paper twice over. What little Shiina can still see of his shadowed face is utterly inscrutable.

When he finally stirs, straightening up to look around, there's something new in his eyes, some emotion Shiina can't place that remains even as he murmurs, "I don't suppose you know where-"

He stops when - as if on cue - a familiar reiatsu signature in the distance rounds the corner of the hallway leading to this room.

It isn't Starrk's reiatsu. He's hard to sense on a good day. But everyone has felt Shiba Ichigo's reiatsu at least once. Boy isn't subtle. He has the skill to hide most of it, but spikes of emotion or even just when he's distracted can bring it out sometimes, and his reiatsu - like that first shocking plunge into ice water that robs you of all breath right before any other sensation hits - isn't one people tend to forget.

And where Shiba Ichigo goes, more often than not, Starrk is there as well.

Shiina checks the time. Classes are out. It's Friday. Chances are good they're together.

Several feet beyond the door, the reiatsu signature comes to an abrupt halt. A few seconds pass, two muffled voices murmur something back and forth, and then footsteps resume, heavier this time, before three brisk knocks are heard.

The head of administration - the one with the highest rank in the room, bar the Shinigami captain - clears his throat, glances at her glower, glances at Kyouraku's perfectly genial expression, and then calls out like a coward, "Come in!"

The door swings open, Shiba Ichigo stalks in, and sure enough, Coyote Starrk shuffles in after him, hands in his pockets, and his bag and the wooden case containing his Zanpakutou slung over one shoulder. His face is so impassive it could've been carved out of marble.

Shiina docks 100 points from everyone in the room. Except Starrk of course.

But even she can't help staring at this meeting that somehow feels like it's been a long time coming.

Starrk's gaze rises. Kyouraku's gaze jumps straight past Ichigo. Their eyes meet, and for just a moment, all of time seems to shudder to a halt.

Silence stretches... and snaps.

"Hey, what's everyone staring at?" Ichigo cuts in irritably, waving the sheaf of papers he's holding in one hand. "We're supposed to hand in our waivers for the assessment on Monday, right? What's the hold up?"

He shoots a look to his left where Starrk and Kyouraku are still standing there staring at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist. He's already scowling, but he scowls even harder at the sight.

"Good afternoon, Kyouraku-taichou," He greets very pointedly.

Kyouraku blinks, and Starrk turns away, busying himself with digging out his own papers from his bag. The moment passes, and Kyouraku turns to Ichigo as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "Ichigo-kun, what a coincidence. What are you here for?"

Ichigo's gaze bobs between Kyouraku and Starrk again before he shakes the papers in his hand once more. "Starrk-san and I have our second Hohou assessment on Monday. It's the one where they drop us off in an arena full of Hollows, and we have to get out using only Hohou. But we have to assure the school we won't blame them if we get killed, so-"

He brandishes the waivers again and finally looks back at the teachers in the room. "I actually don't know why we have to do this. I asked Matsumoto, and she said she doesn't have to fill out any of this stuff."

The admin head coughs delicately. "It's for clan members, Shiba-san."

Three things happen at once:

Shiba Ichigo, predictably at this point, snaps, "I'm not a clan member!"

Coyote Starrk stops halfway through pulling out his own waivers.

And Kyouraku Shunsui goes back to staring at Starrk, although Shiina thinks he doesn't quite know he's doing it so blatantly.

"Shiba-san, your cousin has already had your name changed to indicate official entry into the clan," The admin head says placatingly. "And he assured us that it was with your approval."

Ichigo glares, clearly all set to spend the next hour fighting this new information tooth and nail. "That doesn't mean-"

"Ichigo," Starrk finally speaks up, but he doesn't say more than that. It doesn't seem like he needs to though because Ichigo breaks off, still scowling, but he also glances back at Starrk, who only arches an eyebrow in return.

Ichigo grumbles something under his breath before slapping his papers down on the desk in front of the admin head. "Fine, whatever, I'll go beat him up later. Starrk-san?"

Starrk meanders over, his own waivers already tucked away again. There's a slight slouch to his frame, his gloved hands are back in his pockets, and he doesn't loom, even stopping a foot behind Ichigo, but when he turns his attention on the admin head, the man almost visibly squirms under that blue-grey gaze.

"I'm not from a clan," He says mildly.

As one, the entire room sans the students and the Shinigami captain turn to look at said captain. A moment later, even the students turn to follow their line of sight.

Kyouraku stares back. Or rather, he meets Starrk's gaze again, dark and intent, searching.

Ichigo snorts. The tension breaks.

"This again?" Ichigo glances at Starrk again. "I thought that rumour went away months ago."

"I thought so too," Starrk agrees in bland tones. He looks from one teacher to the next, and even Shiina ducks her head a little when his gaze sweeps over her.

Another beat of silence ensues before it's Starrk's turn to heave a sigh.

"I'm not from a clan," He repeats in that quietly implacable way of his, and even though there's nothing threatening about him, not in his voice, not on his face, not in his posture, not even in his reiatsu, something in their hindbrains stills like cornered prey anyway.

"I am not a branch member," Starrk continues without much inflection. "Or an illegitimate child, I have never been disowned, and whatever else your... very healthy imagination has come up with," For a split second, he looks almost amused. "I can assure you, I am not that either."

He stops. He needn't have gone on because Shiina definitely believes him this time, or at the very least, she believes he genuinely believes he isn't a Kyouraku.

Except then Starrk also turns to the side where Kyouraku is observing everything in silence. Grey meets grey once more.

"This Taichou-san," Starrk says, looking at the captain in question. His face is unreadable. "Is Kyouraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division, right? Then he should be able to confirm—I am not a part of his clan."

Another moment of silence passes. Shiina catches the way Ichigo's expression has gone grim, although for what reason, she doesn't know.

There's been something off about this whole situation from the start. Why those two couldn't have gone away and come back later is beyond her. They'd clearly sensed Kyouraku inside even before knocking.

"It's true, as far as I'm aware, we really aren't related," Kyouraku says after a few seconds of studying Starrk some more. His eyes don't move away even as he speaks, and his tone is... strangely gentle. "And this should be our first time meeting."

Starrk's gaze slides away at almost the exact same time Ichigo reaches out and snags the sleeve of Starrk's Shihakushou, tugging him forward and around, which just so happens to plant him between Starrk and Kyouraku.

"So is there anything else?" Ichigo says loudly. "Or can we go?"

There's a moment where most of the teachers seem to have forgotten why they're there in the first place. Shiina huffs and decisively takes over.

If she could have her way, she would've already ejected Kyouraku from the room. Maybe they really aren't blood-related - what are the odds though? - but she's pretty sure there's something going on between them anyway. Them and Ichigo.

Whatever, it's not her business. Since both parties have said so, everyone else will just have to accept it.

But now that they've reached this point...

"Come here, I need to tag your Zanpakutou," She says briskly, taking out a box as she beckons them over. "The second Hohou assessment bans the use of Zanpakutou. You'd be surprised how many Zanjutsu-focused students try to cheat anyway, so all Zanpakutou have these attached to them before the assessment begins."

She shows them the tags with seals inscribed across the surface. They're nothing fancy, akin to nametags, but they do their job.

"We don't like separating Zanpakutou from their wielders once students reach their fifth year," She explains. "And all Shinigami are encouraged to get used to carrying their Zanpakutou with them at all times anyway. This way, you'll be able to take them in with you, but we'll know if you unsheathe them."

She takes out three tags and flares her reiatsu, watching half the seals light up before holding them out. "There. Loop the string around the sheath before tying it over the hilt, and then I'll finish locking them. They won't affect your Zanpakutou in any way, and you can still unsheathe your swords anytime. Try not to do that until after the assessment though. There's not much time on Monday to redo the tags, and you'll get marks docked off if you use them during the test."

Ichigo nods and grabs a tag first, head dipping as he reaches for the katana at his waist. Then he jerks back up again, wide-eyed, but Shiina isn't paying any attention to him anymore as she looks up at Starrk.

Starrk blinks at her once, slowly. His expression doesn't shift from its indifferent lines, but after a few seconds, something about his eyes thaws, the corners crinkling briefly with the faintest of mirth.

"You're a bit... petty, Sensei-san," He murmurs in a voice pitched so low only she and Ichigo can hear.

Shiina shrugs unrepentantly. She still can't be 100% sure Starrk isn't a Kyouraku no matter what the man himself believes, but she is sure that either way, it's the Kyouraku Family's loss.

If Starrk isn't a Kyouraku, then it doesn't matter, although knowing nobles, they'll probably be at least a little disgruntled that their unique dual-wielding Shinigami is unique no longer, and it's even someone from Rukongai who's manifested a daishou pair.

And if he is a Kyouraku, an ugly secret the clan had erased so thoroughly that even the only remaining heir of the main branch wasn't told, then Shiina wants them to know, wants to rub it in their faces, wants to shout, Look what you missed out on! Look what you lost! He's no less special than the only Shinigami you've produced!

So sue her. Maybe she's been a little bitter about Starrk receiving no offers from the Gotei divisions beyond the generic ones most students get because there are always unseated cannon fodder positions needing to be filled. Technically, it's Starrk's own fault for utterly failing to stand out in any way, but Shiina doesn't mind blaming everyone else for being blind.

She doesn't know what all Starrk can do, but she is absolutely certain he is far, far more powerful than he's let on. His Kidou work alone is magnificent, and someone like that can't possibly remain in obscurity. Anyone who looks down on him for his circumstance of birth or lack of background will regret it. This is just the first step.

Starrk huffs out an exasperated breath but doesn't refuse her little scheme because obviously she's his favourite teacher. He takes the tags, and then reaches up to twist off the cap of the wooden case.

One could hear a pin drop in the subsequent silence as Starrk retrieves his katana and wakizashi in one fluid motion and lays them out on the desk in front of him. The nearby lamp light catches on the katana's hilt for a moment, making it shine, like sun on sand. With deft steady hands, he attaches a tag to each blade, calm even with a sea of eyes on him.

Shiina slants a look to the side through her eyelashes and suppresses a very satisfied smile.

Kyouraku Shunsui looks like he's been hit over the head with a hammer. She's willing to bet it's a rare look on him, even for someone with a reputation for making a bit of a fool of himself in public whenever he drinks.

He looks stunned now, stunned and... and something else, the same something he'd shown after reading Starrk's paper, except in his distraction, it's far more noticeable now, even if just for a few seconds.

Wonder, Shiina thinks, and doesn't know what to think of it.

"Sensei-san?" Starrk prompts, tilting his blades towards her.

Shiina gives herself a mental shake before finishing up with the tags, Starrk's first, then Ichigo's.

"That's done then, you can go," Shiina tells them. "Have a good weekend. Don't be late on Monday."

Ichigo breathes a sigh of relief, looking reenergized, while Starrk nods at her, nods at the other teachers, and even inclines his head in Kyouraku's direction, before they both turn to go.

"I should get going too then," Kyouraku says, smiling once more and as affably composed again as ever. "Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

Shiina stoops down to put the box of tags away just so nobody will see her roll her eyes. By the time she sits up again, her colleagues have seen the captain off, and she silently wishes Starrk good luck with that one. Still, she doesn't regret waving his Zanpakutou in the man's face. She does dock off another 20 points though because she's decided she doesn't much like Kyouraku, especially when he's in Starrk's vicinity.

"Hey!" The Philosophy teacher suddenly calls out, flipping through the papers on the desk. "Where did Coyote-san's essay go?"

Everyone spends a minute looking for it. Shiba Ichigo's is still on the table.

Shiina glances at the door and lets her lip curl. Minus 100 points. She's never met anyone who's hit the negative hundreds so quickly in her life.

The others realize it too soon enough, and the admin head eventually sighs. "It's fine, we have a few copies anyway, and it's not the first time we've lost an essay."

"So... he's not a Kyouraku then?" Someone else pipes up.

An uncertain hush falls over the room. No one is convinced, Shiina included.

"Just..." The admin head waves a weary hand. "Treat him as we always have. It doesn't hurt to be cordial to a future captain, noble or otherwise."

Everybody agrees, and that's that.

-0-

Ichigo has never felt so awkward in his life. He finally understands what being a light bulb means, and these two aren't even dating anymore. Yet. Again. Whatever.

Still, he obstinately makes sure he walks between them. It's not much, but it's probably better than inflicting all of... Kyouraku on Starrk right away. The past twenty minutes had been awful enough. Not many had noticed, or if they had, they probably hadn't been able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but Ichigo knows Starrk.

Knows him well enough to tell that the man isn't in any way as put-together as he seems on the surface. Knows too that he's probably thinking about crawling into bed or walking into a lake or disappearing into the sands of Hueco Mundo and just never coming out again.

Ichigo doesn't know how to fix it though, doesn't know if this can even be fixed. The last year in their own timeline had answered him with a resounding no. So all he can do for now is stay close and make sure Starrk is never alone in these moments.

No one is talking. Ichigo wouldn’t usually mind, but the silence this time is tense. It’s also rare to have Kyouraku around and not have any conversation going. The man isn’t actually that chatty most of the time, even if he is a people person, but for there to be something interesting in his immediate vicinity - and Kyouraku is interested in Starrk, even Ichigo can tell that much - and yet choose to remain silent? Ichigo doesn’t like it.

They get all the way to the entrance of the staff building before Ichigo cracks.

“So what were you here for today, Taichou?” Ichigo asks. “Uh, if you can say, I guess.”

Shunsui glances over at him, glances past him, then back. “Maa, it wasn’t anything special. I was just asking about Asuka-chan's progress. You’ve done a good job with her.”

Ichigo flushes a little. “I didn’t do much. She just needed some confidence.”

Kyouraku hums, amused but warm somehow. He's always been good at that. “We’ll agree to disagree then. I’m grateful either way.”

Ugh, this was not what Ichigo had wanted. But he ends up nodding stiffly, and thankfully, Kyouraku gets the hint and drops the subject with a chuckle.

But that also means he has time to glance at Starrk again, like he's checking for a reaction. Unfortunately for him, Starrk is currently impersonating a statue, and he hasn't looked at Kyouraku once since they'd left the meeting room.

It's only when they step outside that Starrk finally stirs. He turns to face them, eyes on Ichigo, features carved from stone. "I turn off here."

Ichigo blinks. Oh, right, but- "You're already going back to the dorms? Fujiwara and Matsumoto want to go out for dinner."

Starrk nods. "I know, you mentioned it yesterday. I won't go. Give me your bag, I'll take it back for you."

Reflexively, Ichigo hands him his bag, but he also tacks on, "You can come too, they're definitely expecting you to."

Starrk shakes his head. "I'm tired, I'll probably just turn in early."

Ichigo opens his mouth to argue, but... to be honest, in Starrk's place, he probably wouldn't want to be inflicted with Matsumoto's energy either. Fujiwara's taking after her a little too much for comfort these days, and Gin is probably going to be there too, and nobody wants to put up with Gin when they're already feeling bad. Of course, Gin always looks sour-faced around Starrk instead of the other way around. Ichigo is pretty sure it's because Starrk has a way about him that makes the suspicious brat feel like the man's constantly catching him red-handed or something every time Starrk so much as looks at him, which is hilarious, but it also means Gin tends to either avoid Starrk whenever possible or needle him when it isn't. Starrk doesn't usually care, but it isn't exactly what anyone would call a good time.

"Okay," Ichigo says instead. "Just make sure you eat something first."

"Mm," Starrk says, very obviously not agreeing to anything. God, Ichigo is surrounded by people who are going to worry him into an early grave. On the other hand, can it be called an early grave when he probably should've died something like ten years ago?

...Wow, that's depressing. Best not to think about it too hard.

"Go have fun," Starrk says before Ichigo can press on the point about food. Sometimes, it's like Starrk forgets he's not just a Hollow anymore. Ichigo had heard that Starrk had transcended hunger even as an Adjuchas because his reiatsu had done the "eating" for him—and then some. And even after reaching the peak of a Hollow's evolution, he's still never needed as much of any kind of food as regular Shinigami, but that doesn't mean it's healthy either for him to eat nothing.

"Don't stay out too late, don't drink too much," Starrk continues, and Ichigo is distracted enough by this to drop the previous subject.

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, Dad. You know it's a Friday, right?"

Also he's not a teenager anymore, he doesn't say, because he's still mindful of Kyouraku's presence behind him.

(His human body had died as a teenager though, at the ripe old age of seventeen. Some days, it feels like he's still aging at the pace of a human, all grown up and as jaded as an adult can get. Other days, when Kaien acts like an annoying big brother around him, or when Starrk fusses over him in that weary, gentle way of his, Ichigo feels exactly like the kid he would be if he'd been born in Soul Society.

He's still not sure how to feel about that. It's weird, always, but... not always bad.)

Starrk raises his eyebrows. "Matsumoto has a makeup test at noon tomorrow. Ichimaru has an early shift in the morning. Fujiwara has an appointment with her advisor at nine, and you-" A wisp of amusement actually makes it all the way onto his face for a moment. "-have remedial Kidou lessons with Koyonagi at ten."

Ichigo immediately scowls. "It's not remedial lessons! That bastard just doesn't know how to butt out of my business!"

Starrk hums noncommittally, but Ichigo's on to him. That's his I'm laughing at you on the inside because I'm secretly an asshole hum.

"How do you even know all these things?" Ichigo grumbles, because honestly, even when Starrk comes to hang out with them, he spends at least two-thirds of the time napping instead of paying attention to anything going on around him. Ichigo hadn't known they'd all be so busy tomorrow.

Starrk just gives him a blank look like he doesn't understand the question. Ichigo rolls his eyes again and gives up.

"It's not like I was planning on staying out that late anyway," He huffs. "We'll be fine for tomorrow."

Starrk nods and says nothing else. Ichigo doesn't have the words to describe how much he likes that about the guy. Unlike Kaien, Starrk says his piece when he feels strong enough about something to actually make his opinion known, but the rest is up to the other party to decide for themselves, for better or for worse. Unless of course you're bleeding a river with your insides hanging outside and trying to insist you can totally still fight.

Healers. They're somehow all carved from the same terrifying, unbending mold. The day Starrk meets Unohana, the Gotei 13 may never know peace again.

Starrk slings Ichigo's bag over his shoulder as well, and then his gaze finally skates past Ichigo to the man waiting patiently on the side while listening with shameless interest.

"Kyouraku-taichou, I'll be taking my leave," Starrk says, polite and formal as he bows his head, as an Academy student should before a captain, and it's- it's wrong, it's all wrong.

Ichigo doesn't really count the first time he'd met Starrk as their first meeting, which means that for as long as he's known this man, it has always been as a package deal with Kyouraku, right up until that final year. To this day, he has no idea how those two had happened, but it's not like 80% of the people he'd known and befriended hadn't been his enemies once upon a time too, so he has no room to judge.

The point is though, from Ichigo's perspective, Starrk had always followed faithfully in Kyouraku's wake, in his shadow, at his shoulder, hunched over the same desk and working long into the night or decimating a battlefield on Kyouraku's command, with eyes for no one else, even when - in the early days - enemy Quincy had mocked him as the Captain-Commander's tamed mutt, and their own allies had disdained him for being Ukitake's substitute. But likewise, while Kyouraku had forged ahead to pave a bloody road through the enemy ranks because there was no one else to do it for them anymore so he'd had to do it for everyone else, it was always Starrk he'd looked back at, always certain that he would only ever have to reach out and there Starrk would be, and no matter what anyone had said about lingering loyalty to Aizen or potential spy for the Quincy or even a Captain-Commander with such an unsightly weakness, Starrk had been the only thing Kyouraku had refused to hear a single dissenting word about.

They'd orbited each other and stood as a unit at the helm of the Gotei 13, and to see them like this now - separated by death and time and memory - even Ichigo aches at the sight. There's barely five feet between them but it might as well be a canyon.

Maybe Kyouraku can sense something of it too, because he tilts his hat down until it casts a shadow over his eyes, like he can't bear to look, but at the same time, his gaze remains glued to Starrk like he can't bear to look away either.

"Aa, I'm glad to have met Ichigo-kun's most mysterious friend at last," Kyouraku says, voice as laidback as ever, eyes anything but. "You've never come along with the others when Ichigo-kun is training Asuka-chan in my backyard."

It isn't quite a question, but Starrk blinks slowly and replies, "That's usually late afternoon. I prefer taking a nap."

Kyouraku smiles a little, and the curve of it is almost sly. "My division grows the most beautiful cherry blossom trees in all of the Seireitei, and they're just starting to bloom. It's a good place for a nap while you wait for your friends to finish up."

Starrk's brow furrows faintly. "...It would be disrespectful to intrude. I'm just a student."

Kyouraku waves a dismissive hand. "And I'm the captain. I can do what I want. And letting someone sleep under a tree is hardly an earth-shattering allowance."

Starrk blinks again before giving the impression of a shrug without actually moving his shoulders. "Thank you for the offer. I'll keep it in mind."

Even Ichigo has to hide a wince at the flat tone. But Kyouraku only smiles some more. "Good. You can come by anytime."

Starrk nods, a graceful dip of his head that lets his gaze fall away as he directs his next words at Ichigo, "I'll see you when you get back then." Then once more at Kyouraku, "Have a good evening, Kyouraku-taichou."

And then he's gone without so much as a blur left behind. Ichigo doesn't understand why they don't just give Starrk an automatic pass for Hohou when the guy uses Shunpou like he's teleporting, and then he remembers that most likely no one else has actually seen him use it yet with this kind of proficiency.

He turns back to Kyouraku, then falters. The man is staring after Starrk, smile nowhere to be found, which Ichigo had expected, but there's also an unsettling air of loss about him, heavy as a funeral shroud. And then, in the next second, Ichigo suddenly finds himself on the receiving end of a dark, ruthless, calculating gaze that Ichigo's only ever seen on the future Kyouraku, on the Captain-Commander at his best, at his worst, his blades stained with lifeblood, his shadows come alive with abyssal hunger.

All the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stand up, and a chill runs down his spine. He will honestly never understand how Starrk could look at this particular monster time and time again and never even seem to notice the threat, had always walked in Kyouraku's shadows like they were an embrace and not a bottomless void of remorseless avarice. But Ichigo's also faced down plenty of things just as scary as Kyouraku Shunsui, so he only needs a moment to re-center himself and beat back the instinctive lurch of alarm in his gut.

It's easy to forget, most of the time, just what this man is capable of.

They end up staring at each other in silence, and for a moment, it almost seems like Kyouraku might finally push for some answers. Ichigo knows he hasn't been the most subtle, and there are a handful of people out there nowadays who have their suspicions about him, but so far, none of them have approached him about it.

Kyouraku looks like he's about to. For a split second, he looks like he dearly wants an explanation, and he won't much care either what he might have to do to get it.

Figures, a part of Ichigo thinks wryly even as the rest of him goes tense with a guarded sort of apprehension. It would be Starrk-san who brings this out in him.

But between one breath and the next, Kyouraku blinks, blinks again, and the strained tension pops like a balloon as the monster disappears back into the shadows, and Kyouraku is casually adjusting his hat like the whole stare-down hadn't happened at all.

Ichigo feels his eye twitch.

"Well then, I should be heading off too," Kyouraku declares, and his gaze is feather-light when he glances at Ichigo once more. "I suppose I'll see you at Asuka-chan's next tutoring session. Perhaps I might see some of your friends too, hm? The more the merrier of course, so don't worry about any noise complaints. It's good to be livelier when you're young."

"Uh-huh," Ichigo says very dryly. Internally, he sighs and makes a mental note to do his best to convince Starrk to come with him next time.

Of course, he'll be first in line to beat Kyouraku up if this all turns into (more) heartbreak and (more) tragedy, but...

He's not actually so oblivious that he doesn't know Starrk might still only see a cliff's edge that he'll be more than happy to take a swan dive off of at the end of all this. He talks a good game, and after a year of practice, he's gotten a lot better at hiding his grief. At the very least, ever since they'd come back in time, Ichigo hasn't been able to pick up much more than a haze of melancholy from Starrk that comes and goes at irregular intervals.

He doesn't know how to fix it, doesn't know if it can even be fixed. But he does know that if anyone can pull Starrk back from that cliff, it's this man in front of him.

And Ichigo's lost enough people. He doesn't want to lose Starrk too.

So he'll keep an eye on this relationship, make sure Kyouraku doesn't overstep, and make sure Starrk isn't letting Kyouraku overstep, but otherwise, he doesn't think it's a bad idea to help it along a little.

He fervently hopes he's making the right choice.

Kyouraku takes off with a last friendly nod, and Ichigo also hurries away to meet up with Fujiwara and Matsumoto.

For now, everything will keep another day.

#bleach #kurosaki ichigo #coyote starrk #kyouraku shunsui #shunstarrk #myscrap #ichigo & starrk time travel verse #ok lbr out of the entire bleach cast who else would make the most sense to have two blades for their Zanpakutou in sealed form?#like even in canon Starrk was a dual wielder from the start (Kubo sure understood his audience when he threw him and Shunsui together lmao)#technically you could argue that even as an arrancar the “sealed state” of his Zanpakutou was already two “blades” him and Lilynette #because his power was never sealed in the swords that either of them had those were basically just decoration #so in this AU once he evolved enough and his soul was whole enough to produce a real Zanpakutou ofc it would manifest as a daishou pair #anyway this was fun to think about #and again it doesn't exactly fit with what i've written so far for this AU but you can just go with whichever version you feel like lol #also did i create yet another OC out of the blue? yes yes i did. i suppose we'll see if i do anything with her. fingers crossed for no lmao #i was going to make her a katori but then i was like cross be a little less obsessed with shunsui not everything has to tie back to him #so i just made up a name but who she is and what's her background idk tell me wat you think of her i guess #i do headcanon starrk is a natural at kidou because both kidou and ceros are basically reiatsu manipulation when it comes down to it #and starrk could fire ceros instantaneously all damn day from any part of his body without moving a single finger #i think that that control and skill would translate to kidou

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trensu · 4 months ago

Text

Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.

“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”

“Don’t say that.”

The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.

“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."

Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention.

"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"

The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.

“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”

The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.

“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”

“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.

“N-No! I’d never–!”

The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again.

“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”

Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.

“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.

“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”

“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord."

The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted.

The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.

“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied.

The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.

It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.

Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens.

Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.

It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.

–

Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.

At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.

When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.

“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.

Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.

“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”

“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.

“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”

“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”

“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased.

Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.

“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”

“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction.

“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.

“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”

The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.

“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.

Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.

“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.

“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”

Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up.

“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”

Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.

“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”

“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.

“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.

Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.

Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard.

Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion.

“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy.

“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily.

“What?”

“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.

“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.

“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly.

“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.”

The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.

Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.

“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice.

"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"

"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own. "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."

"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."

"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."

“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?"

"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”

“Are you sure?”

The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.

His god was beautiful.

The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.

Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow.

“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”

“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”

Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind.

“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.

“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”

Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?

“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.

“My Lord?”

“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.

“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”

------

*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.

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and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #wayne munson #eddie munson #stasis in darkness #in other news #during my time being laptop-less i got top surgery done!#and i'm finally all healed up so i can move around without pain and i have full range of motion again #now with a laptop and being free of post-surgery incumberance #i'm very excited to be writing again #i mean look! we finally got eddie's name back!! he's got a face!! steve is absolutely smitten even though he doesn't know it yet!!#listen he's convinced that this is a normal emotional reaction to a god okay? he's never done the religion thing before #he doesn't know any better!#anyway now that we got eddie's name back we're going to go off on adventures! we'll be meeting other gods it's gonna be fun i promise #but it's 1am now and i should probably go to bed so that'll have to wait for now

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