A non-crack piece. I've had this idea and document in my computer for a while, but I'd never finished it until now. If you get a little sqeamish about blood, I suggest you skip the third story break.

Thirst

Water is the most basic ingredient to life after air. We can go for several weeks without any food, but if we go without water for longer than three days, we experience a severe case of death. In the spirit realm, food is not essential and water is the most basic form of nutrition, and even then a spirit can last longer than a month without water. Of course those with higher spiritual powers require something a little more substantial than just water, but we’re speaking on general terms here.

Summer of 1870 was the first year of a ten-year drought in Soul Society. At first no one noticed: there were still springs, the rivers were flowing and the lakes were full, there were only a couple of failed crops reported. In the second year, it did not snow that winter, which was well received by many; but when it didn’t rain in the spring, people became concerned. In the third year, there was no rain at all, but there were still rivers, lakes and springs to choose from. In the fourth year, it didn’t snow and it only rained a handful of times that year, and it was the first year to result in a massive rice crop failure. People started to ration, and during the sixth and seventh years, it rained just enough to get people through. By the eighth year, it no longer snowed or rained and the river ran dry. In the ninth year, all the crops had turned to dust and the lakes were muddy pits. In the tenth year, the springs ran out of water, there was no food and the people were becoming desperate…

………

The summer heat blanketed Soul Society; unneeded and unwanted. Heat devils twisted shimmering mirages on the hot, baked earth. No one was outside, preferring to stay in the shade to preserve what little energy they had.

In Seireitei, a young noble boy sat in the doorway, trying to catch the breeze. His stomach rumbled, but nobody had announced dinner. In fact, he couldn’t smell any cooking; surely no one had forgotten about dinner? Getting up, he went to look for his grandfather.

He found him in the study, kneeling over some calligraphy.

“Ne, O-jii-sama, how come no one has called for dinner yet?” He asked; his voice sounded so small in the large room.

“Dinner…won’t be served tonight, Byakuya-chan.” Ginrei Kuchiki paused over his inkpot, before continuing with his art.

“Eh? But I’m hungry!” Byakuya protested. Never in his life has he not had dinner everyday.

“Then slake your hunger with water, for that it all we have at the moment.”

“But water is a peasant’s dish!”

“Would you rather have nothing?” Ginrei turned to look at his young grandson. The boy looked mortified by the fact he was being threatened by this. He needs to learn that not even nobles are immune to hunger. Byakuya then bowed in obedience and ran off to find the nearest servant.

Not long after that, he held a cup of water in one hand and was sitting sulking under a tree. The tree had not grown any leaves that year so it did not provide him with much shade, but this was his favourite sulking spot, at the edge of the property and far from the main house.

He was about to take a sip of his water when he heard a muffled sob. Looking around, he couldn’t find anyone, but guessed it was probably coming from the other side of the estate’s wall. He scrambled up the tree to have a look, not normally so curious. He found that the source of the sound was coming from a small figure hunched beside the wall.

“Why are you crying?” Byakuya asked. The small figure jumped, revealing herself to be a young girl with dark hair and wide violet eyes. She was incredibly thin, her arms like matchsticks and cheekbones prominent in her heart-shaped face.

“I-I’m not crying.” She lied, rubbing her puffy eyes. Byakuya could see no tears on her face, but shrugged.

“Wow! You’re so skinny. Don’t you eat?” He asked.

“I’m hungry.” She stated simply.

“Me too, I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“I haven’t had anything for two weeks. I’m so thirsty…” The girl couldn’t stand up for much longer and collapsed with her head in her hands against the wall. Byakuya frowned. Hadn’t anyone cooked her something?

“…I have water if you want some. I don’t need all of it.” He said. The girl looked up, her eyes brightened with joy, “Stay there! I’ll get you some!”

“I’m not going anywhere…even if I wanted to.” She whispered the last part as Byakuya’s head disappeared over the wall. He came back with a pot of water and a rope. Tying the rope to the tree branch, he scaled down the wall, clutching the pot tightly. He landed next to girl and handed her the pot.

“Thank you,” she whispered gratefully and began chugging down the water, making sure no water spilled. Byakuya looked at her curiously; he had never seen a girl drink like that before looking quite so happy. She had finished quickly, licking her dry, cracked lips, “I have no idea how I can repay you…you’ve saved my life.”

“Huh, really? I didn’t know you were that thirsty. My name’s Byakuya Kuchiki, what’s yours?” He bowed.

She bowed back, “My name’s Hisana, pleased to meet you.”

………

The streets of Rukongai were filled with the stench of death. In the outer regions of Zaraki and Kusajishi, there were piles of bodies hunched together in houses as people gave into starvation. Whatever that was edible had already been picked clean by the starving masses and some of the bodies had evidence of cannibalism on them.

Kenpachi wouldn’t stoop to such a low level, but he was getting desperate. He could barely lift his body off the floor of the small house, let alone try to attend to Yachiru. She rested in a small cot, listless and unmoving. She had not been lucid for several days now, and he suspected that she was on her last night. He brushed his hand over her cheek and under her nose to see if she was still breathing.

Thankfully she was and he put his hand back down on his chest; he could feel every rib, every tendon under his thin skin. He imagined he could feel every little blood vessel under his fingertips he was that emaciated.

Outside the sky was turning grey, but that was no reason to hope. The sky had been turning grey as if threatening rain for the last few years, but the rain never came. The ones who had hope were the ones who died first. But Kenpachi could wish a little.

He never thought in his miserable existence that he’d wish for water instead of a fight. He never thought he would wish for rain to wash the smell of death away. But he will fight this like he fought with everything in his life, even if that meant shedding some blood.

Shakily he lifted himself off the floor and stood beside Yachiru. She had lasted a long time for such a small child, most children of her age out had either died or searching for the next water source, but there was no hope of finding anything now.

“Yachiru? You awake?” he rasped. She didn’t respond, only the movements of her eyes told him she was sleeping. Her skin was thin and stretched across her skull and her head looked too big for her body. He didn’t know if his plan would work, but it might, and that’s all he needed.

He grabbed his zanpakutou and sliced his wrist under the thumb joint. Immediately the blood welled up, but not enough for him to bleed out completely. He held his wrist above Yachiru’s mouth, letting it spill a little on her lips; unconsciously she licked her lips, ingesting the blood; a little colour sprang back to her face as she did so.

Take it, take it all. I don’t care, just as long as you wake up.

He was getting dizzy, but had only shed barely more than a few drops of blood, but it paid off. Her eyelids fluttered open and her eyes focused on him, “Ken-chan…” her voice was barely audible, “my mouth tastes funny…”

Taking his hand away and placing a bony thumb over the cut, “You’ve had a long sleep, that’s why.”

“Ken-chan…am I going to die?”

“Not today.”

………

The clouds were gathering, blocking out the heat of the sun. There was a group of people struggling over a small hill, trying to find the next oasis. They had been moderately successful in the past, but the last few weeks had decimated the crowd.

There were only a few children left, Yumichika noted, but no elders or the weak. They had died early on in the journey. Ikkaku and Yumichika had survived the best they could; harvesting morning dew with dirty rags, but even that wasn’t enough. Yumichika shrugged the tiny blonde girl he was carrying higher on his back and waited for Ikkaku, who was carrying her silver-haired companion. He didn’t know their names, but they found them on the side of the road, huddled together after having given up due to exhaustion.

He didn’t blame them; they were both at their limit and his legs were threatening to collapse at any point.

“Nearly there,” he smiled weakly at the girl and he walked unsteadily up the hill. They had reached the summit and he was heartbroken at what he saw: what ever the main group had found was now a muddy pit of weeds and bracken. What water that was available was gone.

Ikkaku staggered up beside him, his eyes flickered with despair; his hopes had been riding with this last trip.

“You can…put us down now, Oji-san.” The girl said, “We have burdened you long enough.” Yumichika nodded and they put the children down, “thank you.” She bowed and held her friend’s hand, walking off together.

“Ran-chan,” the boy said after several metres, slowing to a stop and sitting down, “I can’t walk anymore.”

“Okay, Gin, we’ll just sit here then.” She sat down beside him watching as the two men who had help them stagger away, propping the other up.

“I have…somethin’, somethin’ I’ve kept for a while,” he reached into his loose yukata and pulled out a little leaf parcel; wrapped inside the leaf were two dry persimmon pieces, “I thought, if we’re gonna die, we might as well have somethin’ sweet to have…”

“Gin…”

“Have some.” He offered. She took one and placed it on her tongue.

“Thank you.” Her mouth was too dry to enjoy it properly, but she thought it was the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted. She wrapped her arms around Gin, and lying in the dust, they waited to die.

Ikkaku and Yumichika had walked a long way before Ikkaku slipped and fell on the rocky earth.

“I can’t,” he said as Yumichika went to his side, “I can’t go on any further. My body just won’t respond.”

“You can. You can’t give up now.” He tried pulling Ikkaku’s arm to hoist him up, but the bald man remained limp.

“I’m not giving up…I just can’t.” Ikkaku rasped, his voice tight with frustration. Yumichika stopped trying to pull him up and instead lay down beside him.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere; not without you,” he said feebly, his own strength leaving him, “Even if that means lying down in the dust like an ugly beetle.”

“What a heroic sacrifice,” Ikkaku mocked gently, before his face softened, “But don’t stay for my sake. My luck’s run out me.”

“Don’t be stupid…besides, now that I’m lying down…I don’t think I can get back up…” Yumichika sighed. The wind was beginning to pick up, cool and fresh.

“I’m so tired…

Plit

“I’m so…angry and…tired of all this…I just want to cry, but I don’t think I can.”

Plit Pit

“You are crying…look a tear.” He pointed at Yumichika’s face where a single water drop rolled down his cheek. Yumichika wiped at it in surprise.

“That’s not a tear of mine.”

Plip pip plip

Now Ikkaku could feel it on his head: rain.

As if the dams of heaven had broken, water came down with such a force that Yumichika felt flattened against its power. The earth itself seemed to sigh with relief as ten years of dust was washed away.

At that moment a poor girl started to dance with joy with a nobleman’s son, water splashing at their feet. A man with a small child staggered outside into the rain and just stood there with his eyes closed, the rain washing away dust, blood and fear. Two children that had huddled together to die were now opening their mouths to the rain, the taste of fruit still sweet in their mouths. And two young men, exhausted and bewildered still lay on the ground as puddles formed around them.

“My luck hadn’t run out!” Ikkaku laughed out loud and clear with an energy he hadn’t felt in months. Yumichika laughed along too until he found himself really crying again, this time with his own happy tears.

When I was young, my friend from Africa would tell me about why he didn't moan about the rain in New Zealand. His family lived in a drought for several years and almost reduced to these levels, then the rains came and they would laugh and dance they were so happy. When I moved to Australia, while it still rained a little, there was (and still is) a severe drought going on there. Places that were once fertile fields are now just red dirt. If there is a large downpour, people will stop to watch. There's even some children in some parts who have never heard rain. Rain is good.