Diary of the Viridian Kirin

[Darake Kitoushi]

"As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives." ~Henry David Thoreau

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-Lithium Flower by Yoko Kanno
-Superfast Jellyfish by Gorillaz (Thanks Zab!)



**Allies**
-Ooo. you make me live...// Best Friend -
-I've been with you such a long time...// Close Friend-
-You're my sunshine...// Friends-
-In rain or shine, You've stood by me...// Ally-
-I've been wandering round...// Acquaintance-
-I'm happy at home...// Casual-

**Enemies**
-You got blood on your face.// Nemesis-
-You big disgrace.// Rival-
-Pleadin’ with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day.// love/hate-
-Somebody better put you back in your place.// Hatred-
-Shoutin’ in the street gonna take on the world some day.// Fear-
-You got mud on your face.// Dislike-

**Lovers**
-Forever is our today...// Forever - Darake Kitoushi (Eventually...) = Relationship Theme Song: October and April by The Rasmus
-Touch my world with your fingertips ...// Together-
-This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us ...// Dating-
-There's no chance for us...// Friends with Benefits-
-There's no place for us...// attractted-
-There's no time for us...// Flirt-

If you want to have a relationship of any kind just PM me with the details


[b]Character Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Relationship:[/b]
[b]How this Occurred:[/b]
[b]Your Character's opinion of Iza:[/b]
[b]Want to thread it?:[/b]
[b]Relationship theme song (if any):[/b]


Special thanks to Zaiella for helping me and basically giving me this idea... she's the best! <3

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[Darake Kitoushi]

-What's Going on?

-How the Tides have changed.

-Classified Information.

-Death
-Ghost
-Pillow

[Darake Kitoushi]

#70: Death

Absence - that common cure of love.
~Lord Byron[/i]

It rains for a whole month after her mother's death.

It is her first time attending a Funeral. Though many shinigami had died valiantly in battle since her birth in Seireitei, she was too young and still too innocent to be exposed to the ugly truth of military service. The air is stale, the atmosphere is stifling, and everywhere she looks there are people exchanging whispered snippets of gossip that seem too inappropriate for a solemn occasion. Even in her lonesome state, she does not blame them. It is impossible to feel the gravity of the situation when the deceased did not play a significant role in your life.

This is the first time she has seen all the Captains in one place for years. Gravitating in like planets, so many arrived, lords of the other noble houses, random nobility, and the entire 12th and 2nd Division. It doesn't feel the same when they shake hands and echo their salutations, mostly because this is a funeral, and it would be disrespectful to the dead in her grave to act out.

It is an unconscious action, she thinks to herself when she notices her father's presence, referring to the way he keeps a wall around himself. He's been raised to make himself everybody's pleasing, perfect gentleman, and it is with no effort that he can charm and coax and captivate and deceive, because everything about him, layer after layer after layer, is too fake to be real.

Or, perhaps, it is his falseness that makes him all too real.

It disturbs her and angers her, and at that moment she longs for her mother's presence and truly begins to mourn her absence.

People pay their respects. They come and go, and she is alone in the cemetery with him. Her newly appointed advisor, the oddly alabaster haired Kitoushi.

Kitoushi sits next to a little girl with wide eyes and oddly colored hair who is playing with a sprig of poppies and rue in her hand, looking like a lost little Ophelia. He looks at her for a minute until he lifts a hand to touch the flowers clasped in her tiny hands.

"Hey," is all he offers, and she looks at him, nonplussed.

"Hello." It sounds more like a question than a greeting.

He normally does not do this. He is not the most sociable kid in the planet, but there is something sad about her, something off and upsetting that makes him want to see her happier than she is right now. Her wide-eyed innocence is a stark contrast to the sorrow that she wears on her sleeve, and there is no pride in her consciousness of this fact.

"I miss her," she gasps out, and he winces, opening his small arms to her.

"Don't cry."

He learns very early in his life that saying things like that only make women and little girls cry harder. Her short nails dig into his skin uncomfortably, and he hides his pain, because, surely, this is nothing compared to what she is feeling right now.

They sit in relative silence for a few minutes, and he runs his fingers through her hair, more out of fascination than any semblance of comfort. She is tired and sleepy and he is distracted and unsure of himself, but they can't find the strength or motivation to let go.

When she is called by her father, his fingers still in her hair and, when he begins to pull away, the back of his hand lingers against the violets in her hair. He gives her a shaky smile, and she stares at him, her eyes flickering with some strange emotion, but she makes no move to encourage him. She misses, but he doesn't, the inquiring look in her father's eyes, and the way his gaze slides over the white-haired boy, is a little too critical and severe, but he looks away for a minute and sighs in satisfaction (or something close to it).

[Darake Kitoushi]

#20 Ghost

"Are you still cold?" he asked, and kissed her on the forehead. The kiss was as cold as ice and reached down to her heart, which was already frozen into half a lump of ice.

He kissed her again, and she forgot all about the little boy and everybody else at home.

"Now I must not kiss you anymore," he said, "or I will kiss you to death." ~Mirror Mirror [/i]

As a Nakatomi child you are not given many choices, you are born into privilege and a gilded cage. Yet, among the residence of the Nakatomi compound and the select few that run within their circle, each noble is unique. During her earlier years, she was smug when people commented on her resemblance to her mother. Her mother was the perfect noble, she was intelligent, beautiful, and accomplished. Reaching Captaincy of the 12th Division in such a short time, only 10 years after her graduation from Shinsou.

The weeks that followed after the death of her mother were a blurred mixture of denial and hatred. The whispers among Seiretei were that it was an unfortunate accident or, perhaps, an intentional suicide, she was, after all, so promising and talented. The muffed gossip begins to get under her skin, until all she feels is hatred for everyone she knows, everything she sees, because it reminds her of the ghost reflecting in her own face.

Years passed, not just for Iza, whose pain ran as deep as any child would feel for the loss of their parent. Izanami seemed blind to the pain of others, too busy looking downwards or living up to the reputation of the ghost, either way she was blinded.

Which wasn't surprising that in her final year at Shinsou, she found herself on the doorstep of Shi Keshin, the current 12th Division Captain and her mother's former Vice Captain. It was no secret that he had fallen in love with her mother, however; neither was it a secret that she wouldn't so much as acknowledge his existence.

Perhaps it is simply out of pity that Izanami takes these quiet times with him, to sit silently and ponder over the only thing they share and can never be with now. She sighs pensively and tries to speak but finds it difficult to sound anything less then annoyed.

"I don't understand. Why do you ask me to come here?" She inquires, at first he answers her only with a cheeky grin, as if he is retrieving a memory, inwardly, she realizes it is not a memory of her but her face.

"You're not supposed to," he replied.

Later when they have had their fill of conversation and niceties, she allows him to linger a little too long as he runs his fingers through her soft hair. She gives him a small smile, in spite of the tension, and yet the glow in her eyes are a little too familiar for him to not recognize. A cloudiness takes over his clear blue eyes and he says, in a tight, choked voice, "I thought I was imagining it, but it's true. You really do remind me of her."

Once, she might have hated Shi for so opening expressing what they both knew, but for a brief moment she saw he had suffered for so long. Without a word, she stood and left his office, shutting the door tightly behind her. Seconds felt unmeasurable as she watched the last rays of the sun dim. Iza couldn't force herself to walk away, something in her wanted to stop his pain.

She knocked at the door to his office, grabbing the sleeve of his Captain's jacket the moment he emerges, and silences any protests with a kiss. It isn't anything remarkable, no fireworks, or passion (at least on her part. It is her attempt to free him from his past, or perhaps, that is what she convinces herself.) His lips are chapped and their teeth clack together, but she is soft. He pushes her away and stares at her face, questioningly, she smiles sweetly and gently whispers his name. He pulls her into him again and kisses her like a dying man reaching for the last spark of life.

Afterwards, she absently touches her numb lips, as if they are foreign to her body, then with cat-like silence, she slips out the doorway. Without even a glance backwards, he watched her small figured disappear into the darkness, the image is burned into his mind long after he shuts the door behind him.

[Darake Kitoushi]

#36 Pillow

She laid there naked, clutching her pillow, goosebumps slowly rose on her tanned skin. Iza was pretending to sleep when she felt his reiatsu as he entered the room. He stopped ten centimeters away from her, just close enough to see the steady rise and fall of her back, and far enough to walk away as if nothing had happened. But he didn't. He was silent for a whole minute, his eye fixed on her body, and Iza knew when he turned his eye away, because it didn't feel like a hundred daggers were being plunged into her back, ever so slowly. She thought about how he had that effect on most people. He tilted his head to the side slightly and narrowed his eye.

"I am not kind," he began; his voice overwrought and trembling and Iza wondered just how he could maintain his self-control even when the tension in the air was too thick and suffocating. It smothered her more than the pillow she hugged to death could be capable of; she had never handled rigidity easily. She supposed his life had been like that since forever. It was disturbing to know that his past had always been strained.

"I can't get through to you, can I?" he asked softly, not trusting his voice enough for him to raise it a little louder, for fear that it would crack slightly. "No matter what we do or say, there's not enough for us to fix this, to fix everything."

Iza didn't know why she didn't outright order him to leave or be silent. It was either he didn't notice that she was very much awake, or he was pretending not to be aware of it. She wasn't damn good at feigning anything, except maybe cluelessness when the need for it became apparent, so she supposed that it was better this way.

"And you know what's worse? It's the knowledge that this can't be fixed, that not even your warmth can get to me. I don't know what scares me more…"

He faltered, and she just waited. But he didn't say anything else. Instead, he moves closer, closing the gap between their bodies. She could feel his warmth on her back and the weight of his presence was her cue to stir. Softly he planted a kiss on her cheek, the warmth of his breath made a shiver crawl up her spine, he whispers in her ear in dark, silky tones.

"Are you awake?"

Stirring ever so slightly, she stretches a hand towards the moon, as if trying to cover it with a simple gesture, but the angle isn't quite right, and she does not want to move. He lazily takes her hand into his, guiding it to a better position, and lets his fingers slip into the spaces between her curled fingers.

He says in a voice with too little emotion to be affectionate and too much of it to be detached, "I could stop it from shining, if you would let me."

She believes his every words and cringes exactly because of it, if anyone could pull of the impossible it was him. Shifting her weight, she turned her head to look at him, exhaling deeply with a slight moan, her gray eyes met his; the lone emerald eye of Darake Kitoushi.
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Izanami shot out of bed in amazement, a surprised hand was brought to her cheek, in the exact place where the kiss had been planted. Her dream had felt so real, so much so she glanced around her bed expecting to see her Basilisk. Once she had felt confident enough it was ‘only a dream’, she kicked off her covers in protest. Mentally she berated herself for dreaming such nonsense. Suddenly her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she felt his presence near the door. Turning her head slowly towards the door, her eyes met his growing smirk, and his voice was low and teasing.

"I would ask if you had nice dreams but hearing you moan like that... Dreamin' bout me again?" Iza's expression melted as she picked up her pillow and launched it at Kitoushi.

"Your servitude doesn't include lurking pervertedly over my sleep."

She quickly jumped out of bed, with an annoyed sigh, and headed towards her bathroom, slamming the door and leaving him to his thoughts. Kitoushi's smirk grew into a lecherous grin, realizing that she didn't deny the dream was of him.