Post by Knowledge on Jun 24, 2015 17:26:46 GMT -5
It was pouring. Fat droplets of rain smacked into the pavement, kicking up even more water, and the whitewashed walls that were so commonplace in Seireitei were coated in streaming rivulets that made them look almost alive.
Naturally, Knowledge was all smiles. He loved the rain, he loved the sound of rain, the smell of it, and above all, the feeling of it on his skin.
His shirt was drenched, his pants were soaked, and his shoes, of course, were a foregone conclusion, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He was pretty sure—but he couldn’t quite tell over the solid wall of white noise—that every step he took squelched.
He sauntered down alleys and lanes, practically dancing with glee. Truth didn’t know what he was missing, locked up in that laboratory of his. Wish, at least, could appreciate the finer points in life, but even then Knowledge doubted his pale-haired friend enjoyed summer rainstorms as much as he did. Appreciate them, yes—he loved his garden, after all—but matching Knowledge’s enthusiasm was a tall order.
In the distance, he heard thunder, and he pushed his sodden hair out of his eyes, irises spattered haphazardly with minuscule galaxies. Today was a good day, and some part of him was certain that it would only get better.
It was no surprise that there were very few Shinigami out and about and while he momentarily entertained the prospect of going to visit one of the Vaizards, he thought better of it. In time, perhaps. They were such serious, moody people, and when his spirits were this high he got into the mood for mischief. It wasn’t always the best combination.
His stroll took him down a crooked route, his path a product of whim more than any actual goal, and as peal of thunder rang out in the distance, Knowledge seemed to recall there being one of Seireitei’s hidden gardens nearby. Perhaps he’d drop by and take a look.
He rounded a corner and was surprised to see a figure in front of him, heading in the opposite direction. A woman, by the looks of things, carrying an umbrella—as any sensible person would have in this weather. At this distance, through the downpour, Knowledge couldn’t quite make out what she was wearing, but he could see it wasn’t the standard Shihakushō. There was no doubt she was a Shinigami—this was Seireitei, after all—but he surmised she was most likely off-duty for the time being. Not that it really mattered: a Shinigami’s Zanpakutō was never more than an arm’s reach away if they knew what they were doing. It was odd that so few of them did.
They grew closer to one another, and Knowledge could see her hair was a pure white and very long. He ran a wet hand through his own hair again, as if compelled by the sight, and kept moving at a steady pace. They had reached one another, and their eyes met under the brim of her umbrella for a brief moment. He couldn’t help but peek beyond the woman’s cool blue eyes—a force of habit, of course—and as they slid past one another, he shot her a pleasant, if somewhat soaked, smile.
The moment passed, their gazes slipped away from one another, and they kept walking.
But Knowledge didn’t put himself out of her mind as quickly as he had everyone else. He was in that sort of mood, after all. He stopped. Turned. Called out, making sure his voice could be heard over the rain by her and her alone.
‘Do you think he knows he’s just a substitute for the mortal who left you? After what you said to Minamoto, what you’re doing seems awfully hypocritical, you know.’
°635
edit "miniscule" just fucking kill me now
Naturally, Knowledge was all smiles. He loved the rain, he loved the sound of rain, the smell of it, and above all, the feeling of it on his skin.
His shirt was drenched, his pants were soaked, and his shoes, of course, were a foregone conclusion, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He was pretty sure—but he couldn’t quite tell over the solid wall of white noise—that every step he took squelched.
He sauntered down alleys and lanes, practically dancing with glee. Truth didn’t know what he was missing, locked up in that laboratory of his. Wish, at least, could appreciate the finer points in life, but even then Knowledge doubted his pale-haired friend enjoyed summer rainstorms as much as he did. Appreciate them, yes—he loved his garden, after all—but matching Knowledge’s enthusiasm was a tall order.
In the distance, he heard thunder, and he pushed his sodden hair out of his eyes, irises spattered haphazardly with minuscule galaxies. Today was a good day, and some part of him was certain that it would only get better.
It was no surprise that there were very few Shinigami out and about and while he momentarily entertained the prospect of going to visit one of the Vaizards, he thought better of it. In time, perhaps. They were such serious, moody people, and when his spirits were this high he got into the mood for mischief. It wasn’t always the best combination.
His stroll took him down a crooked route, his path a product of whim more than any actual goal, and as peal of thunder rang out in the distance, Knowledge seemed to recall there being one of Seireitei’s hidden gardens nearby. Perhaps he’d drop by and take a look.
He rounded a corner and was surprised to see a figure in front of him, heading in the opposite direction. A woman, by the looks of things, carrying an umbrella—as any sensible person would have in this weather. At this distance, through the downpour, Knowledge couldn’t quite make out what she was wearing, but he could see it wasn’t the standard Shihakushō. There was no doubt she was a Shinigami—this was Seireitei, after all—but he surmised she was most likely off-duty for the time being. Not that it really mattered: a Shinigami’s Zanpakutō was never more than an arm’s reach away if they knew what they were doing. It was odd that so few of them did.
They grew closer to one another, and Knowledge could see her hair was a pure white and very long. He ran a wet hand through his own hair again, as if compelled by the sight, and kept moving at a steady pace. They had reached one another, and their eyes met under the brim of her umbrella for a brief moment. He couldn’t help but peek beyond the woman’s cool blue eyes—a force of habit, of course—and as they slid past one another, he shot her a pleasant, if somewhat soaked, smile.
The moment passed, their gazes slipped away from one another, and they kept walking.
But Knowledge didn’t put himself out of her mind as quickly as he had everyone else. He was in that sort of mood, after all. He stopped. Turned. Called out, making sure his voice could be heard over the rain by her and her alone.
‘Do you think he knows he’s just a substitute for the mortal who left you? After what you said to Minamoto, what you’re doing seems awfully hypocritical, you know.’
°635
edit "miniscule" just fucking kill me now