❛ you must not look down; raise your head high and survey the path ahead. ❜ / from the odin sphere prompts !
It’s when she gets home to the estate in the evening that she falls apart; the face of a woman who is holding the name of acting captain collapses with a audible sigh and transforms into the pitiful frown of someone who is lost, her gaze always peering down rather than up, and any sense of pride lost in her eyes. Perhaps he had seen her drawn shut like this one too many nights, and had enough to approach when she was up in the middle of the night gazing about the veranda again.
The idea of returning to bed becomes a long gone thought with her brother’s arrival, his near silent steps stir her from peeling through regrets as her shocked gaze pulls to her company rather than staring deeply far off into the calmness of the ripples upon the pond. After finding her in such an unguarded state she quickly tries to revise herself to more noble etiquette; raising her head from her knee with a hop, not too off from a mole popping out of its hole, unclasping her hands from a near prayer hold and moving them to her lap, and bringing her legs into seiza. He speaks sooner than she expects, not letting her finish correcting herself, stunning her movements, leaving her feet left dangling from the edge of the walkway as she hears him try to encourage her. Her brows furrow as she remains uncertain of the protocol here. Dare she admit it all to him? That her confidence she wears has always been a ruse? He had this air about him that shredded anything illegitimate and she can’t help but think that was her entire being. At the very least he always wore that absolute air better than she felt she ever could. Her hand balls into a tight fist as she draws it to her chest, fueling some courage in her heart as she tries to speak. “Nii-sama, I--” It’s all so heavy; the emotions, the pressure, the grief of her squadron on top of her own, enough to block her tongue from finding whatever it wants to say. She is treading water fine enough but far from swimming forward.
Rukia has been here before, adrift in her purpose and unsure of her drive, but never admitted it directly out loud, let alone to anyone else. “I don’t know what path it is I need to take.” She shakes her head, knowing that her words are incorrect and amends her words. “Or maybe I do, but it is not one that sits with me right... I cannot help but think I am unworthy.” Hating such an admission, her hands covers help mouth promptly. It’s when she says that out loud she hears the voice of a memory in her head that contradict that thought; ones spoken to her upon asking for her to take on lieutenant from her captain. His encouragement, his assurance, the vow in her head... It’s fresh but it also has a sting to it, tainting it from sweet milk chocolate to a dark. The thought sours her, bringing a frustration she’s been facing back up to the surface and she can’t help but bring in her knees close to still try and keep it close.
After so many losses she likes to think the next one wouldn’t damage her so much, like she’ll be more prepared or just outright stop it before it happens, and as much as she wishes she could dismiss the feelings there they are embedded at her heart, at the core of her loyalty. It’s when she has her head clutched in her own hands, her nails scratching at her scalp that she boils over, sitting back with a irked sigh. “Is it so wrong to miss the dead?”
