Time for Tragedy : Tragedy is the Timing
There hadn't been any time, why hadn't there been any time! They had done it over and over again, each fight coming to an end. And both of them still alive, ready for tomorrow. Or whenever trouble came again. No matter how powerful the enemy.
What made this time any different to the countless ones before?
He had had the time to see the flash, the reflection of light from the sword that was raised. He had seen the sword race down, hurtling towards him. He had heard the swooping whistle as it cut through and displaced the air, forcing a path towards its target.
He hadn't had time to raise his sword from where it was embedded in the now still body of the latest vanquish. He hadn't the time to step backwards, to dodge the blow, to protect himself.
He hadn't had the time to stop Ishida from protecting him. To stop him from throwing himself in front of the path of the blade. To stop him from giving Ichigo more time, the split second needed for Ichigo to evade. The blade took longer to cleave through flesh than it did through the air.
Ichigo had plenty of time now. Plenty of time to see the swamp of red seep out from the shining metal protruding from Ishida's back. To see him fall in an arc as he was hurled from the sword. To read the word as his lips moved, the sound lost to the air and the panicked thumping of his heart resounding in his ears. What did he say? His name, Ichigo? Or if he let his mind turn to other places, the kinds he tried to deny himself, the ones he knew could never happen, could he see the heart wrenching words...
I love you.
He felt no time pass as he fell into a fury, as he tore through flesh and bone, as he became the only one left standing. As he scooped the motionless boy into his arms.
Then it seemed forever as he held him there, the body covering him with more blood. He slowly traced the face, gently smoothed back the hair, touched the slowly cooling lips with his own. He knew how wonderful it would have been for both of them, to do this in another time, another place.
There was so much time left for him, no time left for the other. No time left for arguing.
"Well, if you hadn't been such a hothead you wouldn't have gotten into this mess." stated Ishida simply as he wrapped the bandages round Ichigo's wrist with skilled, nimble fingers. " Kurosaki! Quit fidgeting."
For confessions.
Ishida wrapped his arms around the red-head's neck as their mouths collided, and moved together, their tongues dancing as they explored each other. Soon they parted, sucking in the air.
"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that."Ichigo panted. Ishida just stepped closer to him.
"I have some idea." Said Ishida as he closed in the gap between them for another deep kiss.
For lazy days.
It was too hot to do anything, Ichigo thought as he lay under the shade of a tree, the few tufts of grass tickling his sides. Another shadow was cast over him, as Ishida returned with two ice creams in hand.
"Here. I got you chocolate, okay?" Ishida said, handing over the ice cream, and flopping down next to him.
"Do you always have to have strawberry?"
" Why? Jealous I might love another, Ichigo?" Ishida then licked his lips, ridding himself of the smudge of creamy substance left on them.
"I think you left a bit." muttered Ichigo as he leant in to kiss Ishida. Both could taste the ice cream as they kissed,the flavour encouraging them to delve deeper. Soon enough, they parted for air.
"Are you sure you got it all?" Ishida leant in for another kiss.
For first times.
"You sure about this?" asked Ichigo, when he heard the boy hiss as he slowly entered him from behind.
"If I wasn't sure, do you think I'd have my ass up in the air like this?Now will you just start AH!" cried Ishida, as he moved back and Ichigo moved forward at the same time. It felt so good, them together like that. Then they started moving, Ichigo thrusting into Ishida as the pleasured moans from the boy below him encouraged him to go faster, harder, in order to make Ishida yell louder, or better yet, scream.
Ishida did scream as he came, setting Ichigo off as he clamped around him hard. Ichigo withdrew himself and lay next to Ishida, who seemed to be asleep.
"Love you Uryuu."
Ishida cracked an eye open and smiled.
"Love you too."
For decisions.
"I'm glad I chose this material. It cuts really well, and really suits, don't you think?" asked Ishida, stretching his arm out for Ichigo to see across the table. "Ichigo? Ichigo!"
"Eh! Uh, yeah." Ichigo muttered, other things obviously on his mind.
"What's the matter?" asked Ishida, leaning across the table.
" N-Nothing!"
"There is! Tell me. Please?"
"Nothing honestly."
"Okay. Whatever you --"
" Here's your desserts! And I couldn't help noticing those awful flowers, so I bought these over." proclaimed the waitress cheerfully as she set down desserts and replaced the vase of flowers with one of roses, winking at Ichigo. So far unseen by Ishida, there was a ring on one of the stalks. Which promptly decided to slip down into the water and the white china vase. Ichigo just stared as his master plan fell with it.
"'Sorry" said Ichigo as he grabbed the vase, pulling out the roses. The ring wasn't on any of them. "Here, have these."
"Ichigo? What are you doing?" Ishida asked, his arms full of roses. Ichigo just sighed at the luck he was having, and poured the water over his hand. When he finally had the ring, he knelt down in the puddle he had created, and asked the obvious question for a situation like this.
"Ishida Uryuu, will you marry me?"
"Ichigo..."
"Yes?" Please, just say yes!
"You're ruining that suit."
"Oh."
"Yes. Of course I'll marry you."
For a last goodbye.
Ishida always knew, that for all of their fights with hollows, shinigami and god knows what else, that they wouldn't die that way. That they'd survive, die normal deaths, live slightly abnormal lives. There would always be enough time for them to do what they wanted, get what they wanted.
Mainly each other.
And that was what they had. As Ishida lay there, in a hospital bed, knowing he didn't have long left. Ichigo was always there, holding his hand.
So warm. His hand. His embrace. His love.
He was glad it would be the last thing he'd feel.
There was no time left for anything.
Just a handful of what-ifs and the sound of crying from a lonely boy.