Shadow of Your Former Self [P/Shio]

Shio had been hovering in the blissful between-state where he hadn't yet awoken, and wasn't quite asleep.  Ten minutes ago he had turned over in his bed, noticed the time, and was trying to figure out whether it was worth waking up and starting another cup of tea.  His mind swam with countless different types, with the myriad nationalities and their ever so titillating tastes...until his door had been slammed open with force.  A voice began to surge into his head, leaving him rising slowly, without rush or concern, his expression almost tired as he watched Meilin shove the paper into his face.  He rose slowly, his chest uncovered as he rose, walking towards one of his dressers.

He glanced over his shoulder, muscles in his back bunching slightly as he moved and bent over, the faintest smell of watermelon and white flowers seeming to waft through the room as he began to move.  Every motion seemed to kick it up, leaving his room smelling tantalizingly cooling, oddly relaxing as he withdrew one of his countless robes, shrugging into it and ever so slowly turning to look back at Meilin.  He hadn't spoken a word yet, and he hadn't needed to look at the paper for more than a split second to realize what it was.  But his body was already covered in a cold sweat, his hands only barely managing to avoid trembling as he tied up his robe, and then shuffled towards his bed.

"Initiative.  I like that, Meilin.  I won't do you the insult of answering a question that you can easily answer on your own.  I'm not quite sure what you expected, waltzing into my room so quickly, but thank you for waiting, in any case.  What would you like to drink?  While we're talking, of course.  It's only fair that you enjoy a cup of something warm."

He turned back towards her, meeting her gaze again.  Dear God, those eyes!  That look on her face!  It was the worst thing he'd experienced in years, the mostly awful experience he could remember since...since he had first joined this division.  The way she was staring at him right now, the sheer withering force of disdain that he could feel rolling off of her like a wave of heat!  He wanted to burst into tears, to fall to the floor and curl up until she was gone.  But there was something about that look on her face, something that told him she'd ever-so-patiently wait for him to return before continuing their conversation.  He simply pulled out a satchel of what looked almost like silk, opening it slowly and beginning to pack it into a small china glass, with the sense of someone deep in concentration.  He spoke slowly, almost without even seeming to realize it.

"In your experience as a shinigami.  Have you ever felt that the Soul Society's expectations were at all...unreasonable?  That there was something horribly wrong with what they asked of you?"

"I'm not surprised you think that I'm changing the topic.  You have this...way of trying to brute force your way to an answer, Meilin.  I know it's not easy, but I'd appreciate it if you could at least -try- to wrap your mind around a novel concept, instead of charging your way through it and asking the same question over and over."

He settled on the bed, smiling at her ever so slightly, his eyes devoid of much emotion or expression.  There was again that sense that he was hoping to retreat into his own skin, that he wanted to just turn catatonic until she went away.  His every motion was slow, exaggeratedly slow, as if he were putting an exceptional amount of thought and effort into each one.  He began to make his bed, gently tucking away the covers, letting Meilin watch as he did.  Again, he could feel her eyes boring holes into him, hoping that he'd crack and say something he shouldn't.

"Did you go to the same academy as me, Meilin?  I really do have to wonder, if you think that's true in the slightest.  I never felt challenged in that academy a single day.  The kido lessons were rudimentary, the discussion of hand-to-hand techniques and swordplay were almost painfully boring.  I haven't felt a true push to do...my best.  Perhaps because the few times I -did- my best, I felt the push.  You haven't seen my world, Meilin.  You can't understand.  The academy wanted nothing more out of me than to make me a model soldier."

He turned back around, walking past Meilin and shutting his door.  He smiled at her for the first time, a real smile...an almost knowing, rueful one.  It was a smile that seemed to say she knew exactly what he wanted to say at that moment, and saying it would've been a waste of time.  He examined his bed, looking at it in silence for a few moments, and then walking over to a full-length mirror, beginning to run his hand through his hair, smoothing it out and bringing it back to something resembling an actual hairstyle, rather than a series of tangles.  Once more he spoke, in an almost whimsical, nostalgic tone.

"Did you know, Meilin?  Not a single shinigami in my class actually wanted to get a seated position.  None of them were excited at the notion of purifying souls, or fighting off hollows.  None of them had a shred of heroism in their souls.  No, what my...peers wanted.  Was three square meals, the robes of prestige and opportunity, and a chance to be as far away from the Rukongai as possible.  And quite a few of them seemed determined to do as little work as possible to earn their spot.  Do you know how much of an art form it is to meet the bare minimum requirements, Meilin?  Without going even -a little- bit over?  Without wasting -any- effort whatsoever, to still guarantee yourself a spot in the barracks?  It's almost respectable, being able to slack off like that."

"I'd be lying if I said I had any plans at all.  This was sort of...the end game for me.  I spent my entire life working towards becoming a shinigami.  Getting to wear these robes.  At this point, I'm not sure there's really all that much left for me.  It's...hard.  Thinking about the future, at this point."

He paused again, licking his lips and staring into the mirror.  His gaze darted about cautiously, quickly, settling all around, unable to meet Meilin's gaze, even in the reflection.  Even his own face was something he didn't spend too much time focusing on.  He simply set to work plucking at his robes, trying to smooth them out as he sat in silence once more, eyes closing slightly and his shoulders squaring.  This topic always left him feeling...uncomfortable.  Tired.  He wanted this to end, wanted her gone.  But to do that, he'd have to pick at the same old scabs, to let the blood run free once more and prove that he had good reasons for what he did.

"Teachers love studious pupils, you know.  They always want to see someone asking the right questions, trying to perform ably and get results.  And they always love students that show a real interest.  But have you ever seen what happens when a student corrects their teacher?  When they...surpass their mentor?  It's not...pretty.  It almost gave me a heart attack, when I corrected my kido instructor on proper proununciation.  There was such...such disgust there.  They wanted me gone, Meilin.  My own teacher wanted me to...just be somewhere else.  To disappear, or die, or...graduate, or anything.  I honestly think my teachers proposed early graduation so I'd just stop making them feel...feel stupid."

His hand had the faintest hint of a tremble now, hand rising ever so slowly, and his thumb pressing against his lips.  Slowly, with an expression that could almost be called tired, Shio began to gnaw at the nail there, chewing at it industriously as if he were working at a favored treat, speaking nothing at all for a few moments.  He could see her expressions all too clearly in the mirror, could watch as her own expression was so twisted by loathing and disgust, as she turned herself ugly in hatred for him.  He wanted to comment, wanted to tell her how much he wanted to see her smile, wanted to give her what she wanted...but wasn't that the problem?  With Meilin, acquiescence just didn't work.  She didn't want to be given what she wanted without a fight.  Shio couldn't even begin to understand what she did want, but...it wasn't the same old obedience.

"I'm not sure I've ever come close to my natural limits, Meilin.  The only limit I've found is the one of willingness.  My...my body.  It just seems to freeze up.  It won't respond.  My pulse, it...my ears pound, I start to feel woozy.  I just can't, Meilin.  I don't know what you want me to say, but I...I can't!  I'm holding myself back, but most of the people I knew have been doing it for so long they don't even understand how to put in effort."

"Don't speak that way, Meilin.  It only makes you seem like one of them.  'They' just so happened to be every person I'd met in the last...sixty years.  The entire world was on their side.  It wasn't even a fight anymore, it was just...the way things were."

His voice was soft, almost brusque, and it was clear that there was something...else, something just beneath.  But Shio's stance had changed ever so slightly, his hands no longer trembling or shaking.  He stared at Meilin in the mirror, and there was something oddly...obdurate in his gaze, something unflinching that said forcing this matter could only end poorly.  Shio may have made a lifestyle of rolling over to placate others, but that certainly didn't mean he didn't know how to stand up for himself.  And when every logical shred told him that lashing out was exactly what Meilin wanted, he felt so tempted, so very certain that doing this would be the best possible option.  But instead he walked back over to his bed, sitting down on it and staring at the woman with an almost...curious expression.  He tilted his head to the side just slightly, and placed his hands on his knees.

"I'm getting tired of all these interrogations, Meilin.  I'm sorry but it's the simple truth.  You barge into my room, over and over, and you keep insisting that you know what I should do, that you have the solution to problems that only you see as problems.  It's my turn, now."

He smiled ever so slightly, staring at Meilin for a few moments, and for the first time his gaze seemed almost...appraising, as if he were holding her to some standard for the first time.  There was no hatred there, no animosity, but there was that crushing, ever-so-faint sensation that someone else was...watching.  Calmly, patiently watching.  He spoke after only three or four seconds, and now there was something else in his tone, something that almost could've been called concern.  The glint in his eyes was almost eager, but his face was absolutely somber.

"Division one.  Under Captain Commander Yamamoto, perhaps one of the most disciplined men in all of the Soul Society.  And yet you have such...anger.  You fight as a matter of course, as if you've never once met a person who wanted to give you something.  But you didn't grow up in the Rukongai, I can sense that much in a heartbeat.  No, you were raised...strict.  On a schedule.  Everyone always expected perfection from you, didn't they?  They hardly even saw you as Meilin, or as a...woman."  He paused for the faintest second, one hand twitching on his knee.  A statement like that was probably tantamount to throwing down the gauntlet to Meilin, and he was prepared to deflect whatever blow she sent his way, in response.

"It's entirely different, Meilin.  You were trained to succeed, in every single thing.  You're a fighter, and a soldier.  And you seem to -enjoy- it.  I've never seen anyone outside of the 11th that loved to cross blades as much as you.  And yet you ended up...here.  Instead of with Yorishou.  That tells me you have some stake in staying...here.  Is it your parents, perhaps?  Part of some sort of...trust fund?  Did they threaten to cut you out if you didn't settle down?  Did they try to dress you up and turn you into a proper lady in the hopes you'd eventually take to it?  Or is it something...else, Meilin?  Why do you try so hard to fit a square peg in a round hole?  Or has the notion of finesse actually never occurred to you?"

"No, Meilin.  You didn't just ask.  The subtext is there, behind every word, beneath every comment.  You think I made the wrong choice, and if you just get through to me you can fix it.  You think this is about something else entirely."

Shio's hands rose slowly, running through his hair in a clear nervous gesture.  The simple tactile sensation of soft hair under his hand, the fact that he could do something with his hands...it seemed to give him strength, to keep him distracted from just what he was saying.  Yet his gaze never strayed from Meilin, as he drank in her presence and her patient, calm presence.  It seemed she was finally settled in enough to hold an actual conversation, that this time she wasn't going to burst into some snide remark.  But he sensed it beneath her again, that calm and quiet patience, the sense that she was willing to fight until she got what she wanted.  What exactly was it?  Had she been so wronged by someone she'd never be able to come to terms with?  Had her family life been worse than she was willing to admit?  Even Shio could at least come to terms with it and admit his parents hadn't done him any favors.  But her?  She was so...ferocious.  Like there was something on the line.

"Your family expected great things of you, but never pushed you past your limits?  A little arrogant, don't you think?  As if greatness, as if perfection, these things were just...meant for you.  As if you had them within you from the very start.  Perhaps you only took that onus on yourself, but if you ask me the sign of a great friend is being willing to give you a shoulder to lean on when you're on the verge of collapse...and find the right words to kick you back into gear.  The fact that no one ever said that to you is...a travesty, I feel.  And that much, at least, I can agree with you on."

He was actually enjoying this conversation, despite his best wishes, and despite the fact that it had come out of nowhere.  Now that she wasn't trying to attack him, physically or personally, Meilin actually seemed to make good company.  But he had to keep this on track, had to make sure he didn't give away just how much this meant to him, lest she start raking him over the coals...lest misunderstandings begin.  Shio knew the heirarchy, and he had no intention of bringing on cause for another harsh lesson, for another needless conflict.  Settling them was simple enough, of course.  But what good would it serve, except to foster discontent?

"My comrades never pushed me past my limits, either.  In fact, they did just the opposite.  They always couched it in nice remarks, in concern and friendliness.  'You're already #1, no one's going to take it from you!'  'There's nothing wrong with taking a night off to drink!'  'Skipping meals is bad for your complexion!'  But it always boiled down to the same thing, in different terms.  'Stop making us look bad.'  You see, Meilin...the Soul Society has no need for heroes.  The academy doesn't want soldiers that aspire for promotions, or to earn commendations.  The academy wants cogs in the machine, that do their job and keep things moving.  I'm part of a process, Meilin.  And anything I do to stop that process is on me.  That means if I have to smile and bear a few snide remarks, and let myself get spat on, so I can keep my comrades from getting dishonorable discharges...?  I'll shoulder that burden."

"I don't have to imagine, Meilin.  I've been there.  If just one does a little extra, the others either start slacking off even more, or they drag him back down to their level.  These people don't like being shown up.  You can say they're leadership material all you want, and perhaps on paper they are.  But a lot of them are...unwilling to push themselves to their limits.  To get anywhere close, in fact."

He rose once more, towards his pot of water and began to gingerly lay his hands over it, letting the warmth suffuse his skin and letting out the smallest hiss of discomfort as he rose it, to pour a measured amount into both his cup, and one more.  Again, his movements held a sense of quiet confidence, a feeling that he was at home with this familiar ritual, that it was somehow helping him unravel and unwind, release more of this formless stress, this omnipresent dread.  When he turned back around, holding two cups, he set one in her hands, and then simply stared into the contents of his own.

Again, things were getting away from him.  She wasn't understanding!  His words were falling upon deaf ears, and he could feel his heart beginning to turn into a solid hunk of lead in his own chest, his breaths becoming harder and harder to escape.  Were it anyone else he may even have begun bursting into tears by now, but instead he just took another long inhale, letting the soothing scent of the herbs strike the back of his nose.  He had chosen a blend that perfectly complimented the sweet scent surrounding himself, hoping it would do -something- to set Meilin at ease and make this conversation easier.

"You keep going for these personal jabs.  What do you expect me to do, Meilin?  Fly into a rage and try to shut you up?  That's the act of a child, frankly.  Think what you want about me, I don't care.  I only ask that you have an appropriate sense of context.  I was accepted into this division because I was a leader of men...or at least styled myself as one.  I wanted to believe I could bring out the best in anyone, to make them think that anything was possible.  I did my very best to groom and encourage my classmates, and my teachers seemed to...appreciate the effort.  At first.  But none of them wanted to be led, in the end.  All of them had their own plans, and they thought it much simpler to just make theirs the gold standard, rather than rising to meet the standard.  I don't blame them for it, it's just...part of the system.  The humans even have a term for it, you know.  'Glass ceiling.'  You can see the sky, feel its beautiful radiance on your skin, but the moment you rise to touch it...there's always a barrier standing there.  And I suppose after long enough trapped underneath the glass ceiling, they...gave up on their dreams.  They killed the part of themselves that wanted to excel.  And to see others surpassing them, to realize that the glass ceiling is at a different level for different people.  I can't begin to imagine how much that hurts."

His gaze was once more turning wistful, his voice turning somewhat hoarse near the end of his statements.  He looked at her, blinking a few times, the motions an almost painfully obvious tell for the grief he was trying his best to put into words, the understanding that he hadn't ever actually been able to put into words up to now.

"Meilin.  I have never had a single person cheering for me.  No one wants to see me succeed, especially not where they failed.  Can you honestly tell me you have even the slightest idea what it's been like for me?"

"I'm...not sure, Meilin.  I'm not sure what I've hit.  I only know that every time I try to cut loose like last time we spoke, it...never ends well."  He rose a hand slowly, beginning to run it across his face, kneading at his nose and cheeks, trying his very best to keep his mind intact and on track.  Whatever was going on, whatever Meilin expected from him here...he was going to disappoint.  That much was inevitable, almost a given.  But he could at least get the message across that her expectations weren't going to be met.  He sat there in silent agony, clearly looking for words that wouldn't come, words that could finally make what he was thinking understood.

"All I wanted to do was be a shinigami, Meilin.  I've done that.  What more is there to say?  To...do?  The promotions are just fancy titles and more accountability.  I'm -comfortable- where I am.  Perhaps I'm not happy, not fully, but it's like...a too-small shoe that you've worn for years.  After a time, you get used to the discomfort, and it becomes something close to comfort.  I've got a good life!  I've got...people I can count on to step in when things get rough.  I'm part of something bigger than myself.  And it's for the good of everyone that I not disrupt this...delicate balance.  All I could possibly do is upset the others in the division, and make their jobs harder."

Once more he met Meilin's gaze, for just a moment before letting it slip away.  It was true that she wouldn't be spending this much time trying to convince him to stop holding back, stop hiding away, if she didn't care...but he just couldn't understand the angle.  All he'd done was waste her time, beat her and humiliate her, and leave her in the middle of the training grounds with no one familiar for company!  Those sorts of offenses would've been unpardonable in Shio's world, and yet...here she was, staring at him as if he was a child in need of guidance.  As if she was somehow doing a good deed by speaking to him.

"You asked me to teach you Kido, Meilin.  You...you wouldn't stop, you wouldn't go away.  What did you -want- me to do, just...tell you all the chants and make you repeat them endlessly?  You and I both know you would've lost interest within minutes.  I had to send a message you'd appreciate.  It was a one time thing, Meilin, and it's not going to happen again!  I barely even managed to get away with it -this- time...!  You may see...potential in me, but potential means nothing in the real world.  All I have is a group of comrades that need me to stand by their side and do my part.  Not start showboating and trying to earn gold stars.  It -doesn't matter- if people don't find out what I'm capable of, Meilin.  I'm just one man.  The Soul Society is thousands.  How am I supposed to weigh my needs over the needs of my peers?"

Again, that look of absolute disdain slid across his face, a mere shadow of expression for the faintest second, like a lizard flitting across a patch of sand, to find rest under a new shadow.  It was there and gone in the same span it took to notice it, and then Shio just looked...tired.  He slumped forward ever so slightly, hands hanging between his legs as he stared at the floor.  This wasn't going to end.  Meilin wouldn't relent, wouldn't let it go...and it would all end the same as ever.  Shio could already sense it starting, could feel the old pull, like he was suddenly being dragged under by a tide.  His hands slid out slowly, ever so slowly, and parted his legs slightly.

"What do you want me to say, Meilin?  What will it take for you to go away?  Right now, that is -all- I want.  I want this to be over.  So just...tell me.  Tell me what you want to hear, and I'll say it."

The words, subservient as they were, held an edge of acerbic hatred that was almost staggering coming from the normally relaxed and composed shinigami, much like being bitten by a poodle.  The sheer incongruity of it was boggling, enough to let silence reign for a few seconds, as Shio began to slide a finger across his lower leg, a spot one or two inches below his kneecap, his face turned away from Meilin just so to ensure she couldn't see any of what was going through his mind.  He waited for ten, fifteen seconds, and then finally sighed.

"...The truth, I suppose.  You probably want to believe that if you know the truth, it'll make everything better.  Break it all down and leave me a sobbing mess.  It doesn't work that way, Meilin.  But if it'll please you...fine.  I'll tell you."

Shio stared at the floor once more, his breaths coming out slowly, almost...ragged.  As if he were in the throes of a very intense asthma attack.  But he wasn't thrashing or twitching, instead sat utterly still as he stared at the floor just in front of himself, and began to trace the shape on his knees even faster.  Meilin sat there, so goddamned patient, just waiting with no sign she was going to leave...waiting for him to go over it one more time, to yet again be thrust into the light and scrutinized.  All Shio wanted was for it to end, to go away and cease being a thing.  All he wanted was to be forgotten.

"I graduated early, by about a year.  I was...so happy.  I finally felt like it was paying off, like my future was brightening up.  And so I didn't even think to question it when my colleagues threw me a going-away party behind the academy, after dark.  I thought it was...finally over.  That I could move on with my life and be part of something better.  I never even stopped to think about it.  All of them hated me; they would've sooner cut their own fingers off than play nice with me.  The teachers liked to turn a blind eye and use all sorts of kind phrases, but...they hated me.  I know what it's like to be hated."

He gulped again, fingers managing to dangle between his legs this time as he clutched at the bedspread, eyes closing and his voice growing thicker, harsher.  This was where it really started to hurt, where he was reminded of just how...petty these supposed heroes could be.  How savage the protectors of the universe were, when faced with something that challenged them, that truly pushed them to live up to the legends and the rumors, to be...well, to be a young child's idol.

"There wasn't anything...blatant, at first.  Just a few of the more studious of my classmates, waiting for me.  They...walked with me.  They smiled, and laughed.  It actually felt nice, for once.  To see them talking and having fun while I was around.  I suppose the thrill of impending bloodshed had them in a good mood, or maybe they had just come to bond over a shared enemy.  All I know is I...wanted them to be happy around me again.  I wanted the moment to stretch on forever.  But it didn't.  It couldn't.  I followed them into one of the rooms, and then...the door locked behind me.  Shut, faster than I could react.  And it was...everyone.  Fourty, fifty students.  All armed."

He glanced up towards Meilin again, that ugly shadow flickering across his face once more, as he began to imagine all the possible reactions she would've had; he was prepared for any of the inevitable stock responses, was ready to rebut any possible way she had of claiming he'd brought this on himself.  That he had somehow deserved what had happened.  And yet beneath it all, he knew that they were all just empty words.  He knew nothing he...or she...said.  Could change what had happened.

"They held me down.  They dealt blow after blow on me.  One for each and every time I'd ruined their lives in the academy, they said.  Each and every one had...a reason.  They all just kept shouting them.  I tried to roll with it, but after a while I just...didn't.  When you could feel the anguish behind those blades, when you could sense that these were people who were on the verge of a meltdown.  When I realized I had almost driven my comrades to murder.  I just...couldn't fight back anymore.  I barely even felt it, after that thought hit me.  That if I had pushed them just a little more, they may have gotten blood on their hands.  Over something so...petty.  Each and every one of their lives would've been ruined, because I couldn't be content to stand by their side.  I had to raise my hand first.  Had to...had to get my gold star.  Had to make sure I stood out.  And I almost drove good men to do a terrible deed because I was too childish to realize what I was doing."