Different Perspectives

Warning this fiction is yaoi which means boy x boy so if you don’t like don’t read.



AN: oh and incase anyone didn’t realize, this fic is gonna somewhat follow Kira through to present dayish. So obviously he will meet Kenpachi later on. There will be lemons I promise. Thank you Yakumo for checking out this fic. Enjoy.



Chapter Two



Izuru glanced out the window as the carriage pulled up in front of the manor. Perhaps long ago the place had been a grand place, but now, the stone dragons that guarded the entrance were chipped and broken. The once pristine white walls of the manor now were gray with age dirt. The shrubs and trees that dotted a border around the main house were in desperate need of pruning. It really was a shame since this was the house that his mother had been born in.



The trip to his uncle’s home had been uneventful. Izuru had been forced to ingest one of the vials the kind captain had given him when the pain in his arm became too much. The drug had done its job in relieving his pain, so well in fact, that Izuru carefully hid the remaining vials in a hidden pocket in his kimono. He had a feeling he would be needing them in the future, especially if he was to live with his uncle.



The carriage pulled to a halt and the servant stepped out and assisted Izuru down. His uncle and his wife were making there way down the chipped and broken pathway towards the carriage. Izuru stood still and kept his eyes facing forward. The couple stopped in front of him.



“I am sorry that I was unable to pick you up myself.” said Koji Imino as he stepped forward and clapped his hand on Izuru’s shoulder. Izuru fought not to shake off the plump hand. He had never liked his uncle, something in the man’s eyes made him seem untrustworthy.



. Koji led Izuru into the run down manor. Talking idly as if they were friends. Izuru held his tongue, he just wanted to get in a bed and sleep. He was worn out both mentally and physically. Koji was overjoyed at the death of his sister and her husband. If Izuru had been killed the money would have gone back into Yuji’s family but since Izuru was alive and with Koji, he had direct access to all the money. Already plans for the money were going through his head. The boy was too young to dispute his decisions.



“Here is your room.” said Koji as he opened a door. Izuru walked into the room. Though it was clean, obviously in anticipation of his arrival, the furniture was worn almost bare. Koji nodded to the boy and shut the door. Izuru heard the clicking of a lock.



“Hey, what are you doing?“ yelled Izuru through the locked door.



“Its for your own good, no one will hurt you now.” said Koji with a smirk leaving Izuru to stare at the door. It appeared his uncle didn’t want his meal ticket escaping any time soon. Izuru settled down on the bed, his broken arm propped on a pitiful excuse for a pillow. Izuru suddenly felt very lonely. He wished he could go back to the white infirmary room at Division Four. At least there he might be able to talk with the lovely Captain. Sleep was long in coming. Izuru’s mind whirling through the recent events and people he had met. The death of his parents, the mysterious Wabisuke, the lovely Captain Unohana, and subsequently his ‘imprisonment’ in his uncle’s house, everything seemed to be running together. Eventually, his eyes began to droop and exhaustion took him into oblivion.



XxXxXxXxXx



The next few weeks proved more difficult that he had thought. Not only was he now a prisoner, his uncle was proceeding to spend through his father’s money at an alarming rate. Izuru knew this because of the increased number of servants, and the replacing of all the old or decrypt furniture. Izuru could understand replacing broken furniture but the items that were used to replace it were obviously more expensive than need be. Meals that were served were on the finest china and of the highest quality. Izuru had commented once on the new furnishings resulting in a backhand to the face and the rest of his day locked in his room with no dinner. Izuru learned to keep quiet after that.



Izuru spent most of his days locked in his rooms, occasionally allowed outside for brief spans of time. The weeks turned into months. Izuru watched as his uncle began to drink more and more. His wife, a tall pale woman with a stern mouth, completely ignored Izuru’s presence. After a few months, his uncle spent more time drunk than sober. Izuru knew then that the money that his parents had left him was gone. Izuru was truly surprised. He had never thought his uncle would go through that much money so quickly. His uncle began to ignore his presence as well, failing to unlock the door to his bedroom for sometimes days at a time. Izuru learned to keep water and food hidden in his room.



A year passed and eventually all of the new servants departed once again as the money completely dried up. Izuru sat in his room contemplating his options one morning when the lock on his door turned. Expecting to see his uncle standing in the hallway, Izuru was surprised to see his uncle’s wife. Her eyes cold and unwelcoming. She tossed him a small bag of coins.



“Get out, I am leaving this place, I suggest you do the same before your uncle’s money lenders arrive. Consider this payment for your father’s assistance through the years.” she said, her face aged beyond her years. Looking at her, Izuru thought she may have been an attractive woman at one point. Now years married to his uncle had left her haggard and tired looking.



“Where will you go?” he asked.



“I shall return to my family.” she said, her eyes taking on a sad gleam.



“You are welcome any time in my home.” said Izuru and he meant it. For some reason he felt that this was a truce between the two of them. The woman nodded and a small smile graced her face before she turned and walked away, leaving the door open.



Gathering up his meager belongings, Izuru walked quietly through the house, stopping in the kitchen to gather up what little provisions he could find. Taking the back door, Izuru ran as fast as he could for the family mausoleum. Walking up to the urns that held the remains of his parents, Izuru knelt in front of them and began to pray, his head bowed. ‘Forgive me father and mother. I will not see you for a while but I promise to one day return.’



Standing, Izuru made his way out of the mausoleum and towards the forest. Keeping to the blanketed growth near the road, Izuru followed the road until dark. Careful to stay hidden away from the roads, Izuru made his way deeper into the forest and upon finding a small clearing, settled against a tree for the night. The sounds of the of the night lulled him to sleep.



Waking shortly after dawn, Izuru ate a rice ball that he had brought from the kitchen. While sitting in the shade of the large tree, Izuru contemplated where he should go. He had only the money that was in the small bag given to him by his aunt. Recalling something his father had said a few years ago, Izuru knew his destination. ‘If ever you are in trouble, go to Keisuke Tetsu. He is my old teacher and will be sure to assist you.’ Izuru knew his father’s old teacher must be near his clan’s home. Making his way south towards his family estates, Izuru prayed that the old man was still with the living.



Several hours later, Izuru neared the land of his family. Seeing an elderly woman strolling down the road, Izuru decided to inquire of her of the location of Keisuke Tetsu.



“Excuse me, would you happen to know the location of Keisuke Tetsu?” asked Izuru. The old woman nodded and smiled a toothless grin at him. Pointing towards the south.



“You will find him in a small hut down that road about two miles. It will probably have a few dogs sleeping in the yard.” Izuru bowed to the woman and began to make his way in the direction she indicated. About an hour later, Izuru came upon a small hut. As he walked up to the door, several dogs wandered over to sniff him. They all looked healthy and well fed so Izuru hoped they were friendly. Knocking on the door, Izuru waited patiently. Several minutes passed and Izuru was beginning to think no one was home when a shout came from the back of the house.



“Hey boy, come around here.” the voice ordered loudly. Walking around the house, Izuru saw an elderly man pumping water from a hand pump. His kimono was old and worn but made of durable fabric. Izuru trotted over to him. His face was a mass of scars all old and faded. The man grabbed a large stick from the ground and began to walk to the front of the hut leaving his water pale behind.



“Bring the pail boy.” said the man as he made his way back the front of the hut. Izuru stood in shock for a moment then heaved the pail and waddled after the man. Plopping the pale on ground in front of the old man who was now settled on the steps.



“Are you Keisuke Tetsu?” asked Izuru. The old man’s eyes crinkled and he grinned showing a full mouth of white teeth. It amazed Izuru that a man of obvious age still had all his teeth.



“Who wants to know?” asked the man. Izuru was beginning to get a little annoyed at this man. He just asked a simple question and then the man answered with a question. It was so frustrating. Deciding to play along for the sake of expedience, Izuru answered, “Izuru Kira.” The man brought his hand up to play with the thin scraggly beard.



“Hmm, so you are Yuji’s son?” Izuru’s eyes lit up. He was his fathers teacher if he knew that just from his name. “I heard about your father and mother. It was a shame but everything happens for a reason.” The words sent a pang through Izuru’s chest. His father had said words very similar to that on the day that he had died. Izuru closed his eyes at the wave of tears that threatened to drip from his eyes. It wouldn’t do to cry in front of the man.



“You can cry if you want, boy. I cant see your tears.” said the Keisuke gruffly. Izuru gasped and looked at the man more closely. His eyes, though they appeared normal he could now tell that the man were not looking at him but looking through him.



“How?” Izuru whispered. ‘How had he known I was about to cry if he cant see?’ Keisuke laughed and stood up to pat Izuru on the shoulder.



“I can sense your reiatsu. Its faint and untrained but it is tied to your emotions. Its easy to sense such things if you are trained.” answered the old man as he began walking up the steps into his home. “Come boy, we need to get you fed, then we will talk.” Izuru followed the man willingly. It had been a long time since he had eaten a meal with another person. His meals were almost always taken in his room. When his uncle remembered to order the servants to bring him food.



The interior of the small house was surprisingly neat and organized. Keisuke waved Izuru towards a small table with two chairs. Going to the pot boiling over a small pit fire, Keisuke filled two bowls with a delicious smelling stew. Setting one before Izuru and keeping the other for himself, the old man motioned for Izuru to begin eating. Izuru cautiously took a bite, then another, and another until the bowl was empty and his stomach was full. The food was good, simple but filling and definitely better than the rice ball he had eaten for breakfast many hours earlier. Standing, Keisuke took both bowls and utensils and placed them in a small basin. Turning to face Izuru, the old man settled himself into a large worn but comfortable looking chair and lit a long pipe. Izuru settled himself on the floor nearby.



“Did your father tell you what I am a master of?” asked Keisuke. Izuru shook his head. “I am a master of Kidou, the demon arts used by the shinigami to aid in battle. Your poor father gifted as he was in finance was a terrible student. The only spells he could master were low level healing.” Keisuke laughed to himself at the memory of Yuji attempting to learn Kidou. Yuji had approached him and begged him to teach him the art much to his parents’ disdain. However, Yuji had persisted, insisting that he would one day enter the shinigami academy and wanted to be prepared. The boy no matter how hard he tried was absolutely terrible at Kidou. Keisuke sighed and sank back into his chair and puffed for a few moments on his pipe.



“I have a feeling that you will have a bit more of a knack for it.” said Keisuke finally. Izuru’s eyes widened. Keisuke laughed, he maybe blind but he knew the moment that Izuru walked towards him that this boy would one day wear the shihakusho of the shinigami. The shadowed form of his zanpakuto spirit was already present and watchful of his future master, patiently biding its time until Izuru was in possession of a zanpakuto for it to inhabit. Though his past maybe darkened by the horror of all that he had witnessed, this boy held a small light that even his blind eyes could see. His soul seemed pure and almost untainted. Such a rarity in this day and age. Keisuke puffed once again on his pipe, considering Izuru’s future.



“Go to that shelf and bring me that large thick tome with the green cover.” said Keisuke. Izuru stood and walked over to the shelf. It was pack full of various books and Izuru vaguely wondered why a blind man had books. Izuru saw the large green bound book and pulled it from the shelf. Carrying it towards the man.



“That book will be your guide in the beginning. It is a reference book for basic Kidou. Kidou, if performed correctly can bind an enemy so that they cannot attack, pierce an enemy with shards of ice, heal the gravest of wounds, and shield your comrades from attacks. If used improperly it can backfire, leaving the user incapacitated or dead.” Izuru listened avidly. He was intrigued by the words of the old man.



“Indeed, I think I will give you the rest of the day to begin reading that tome. Tomorrow at dawn we will begin your training. There is a spare bedroll in that closet when you are ready to retire. I would advise you to go to sleep early for tomorrow we begin.” Standing, pipe in hand, Keisuke made his way slowly towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.



Izuru was too engrossed in the book to care about the old man’s whereabouts. The first chapter discussed the requirements for learning. Many of them confused Izuru and he assumed that the old man believed he met the requirements since he was going to teach him. The second chapter detailed the various types of Kidou. Bakudou were binding spells and Hadou were destruction spells. All spells were numbered in level from one to ninety-nine. It mentioned forbidden Kidou but failed to go into much detail. It fascinated Izuru and he hoped that tomorrow would come soon.



XxXxXxXxX



The next day came early and after a hearty but simple breakfast, Keisuke led Izuru down a beaten path deep into the woods. The walk was short but gave Izuru time to consider the recent events that brought him here. It seemed his destiny was going to be that of a fighter and not like that of his father’s after all. He hoped his father wasn’t too disappointed in him.



Entering a clearing, Izuru saw several targets arranged. Glancing at the old man, Izuru waited patiently for him to give instruction. Keisuke leaned heavily on his staff and just stood there, his foot tapping as if annoyed. A young man, about a year or so older than Izuru, tore across the field towards the two of them. The young man halted in front of the two and bent at the waist while attempting to recover his breathe.



“I’m so sorry, Master.” panted the young man. He straightened and faced the two of them. He was attractive with long thick black hair that fell in waves to his waist. His kimono was plain but of a durable material. His eyes were what drew Izuru, they were a deep green like that of the leaves in the forest and hinted at a playful nature. Keisuke took his staff and crashed it down on the boy’s head.



“OW!” he screeched, grabbing at his throbbing head. Izuru watched as the boy glanced pitifully up at him.



“Don’t worry about him he has a rough head. I pay this freeloader to assist me in setting up the field and maintaining the equipment.” explained Keisuke while poking the boy with his staff.



“Dai Madano, at your service.” said the young man while holding out his hand. Izuru stared at the offered hand before grasping it in his own. The boy grinned and withdrew his hand. Keisuke poked Dai again and the boy sighed, sent Izuru a long suffering look, and proceeded to make his way across the field to begin adjusting the various targets.



“Now lets begin.” Keisuke said with grin that held far too much deviousness for Izuru to be comfortable.



The next few hours pasted in a blur. By the time the sun was setting in the distance, Izuru was collapsed on the ground, panting. His hair was slightly singed on the tips and his kimono had definitely seen better days. Kidou was a lot harder than he had imagined. His hands burned from the Hadou spells and he knew without looking that he was covered in dirt and grim. Keisuke poked him with his staff.



“Very good, boy. Time to go home, Dai started the stew for me while I stayed here with you.” Following Keisuke home, abet at a much slower pace. The man stopped about half way to his house and turned to Izuru.



“You have a talent for the arts. I will teach you what I know and recommend you for the academy when you are ready. My name should still have some pull even after all of these years.” said Keisuke. The words warmed Izuru’s soul. The man thought he was gifted in it. Izuru smiled to himself. The future was looking up. Soon he would find the mysterious Wabisuke. Izuru felt a warm hand on his shoulder and turned to see who was there only to see no one. Confused, he glanced around the path but there was no one but Keisuke and himself. The old man chuckled at his student and began down the path once again.



TBC