Celeste's Bleach request.
For Celeste-sama, with the hopes that even though my story may suck she won't take it out on me and instead continue to write to her usual stellar standards for my challenge. It wouldn't be that bad...right?
Title: Tabula Rasa
Fandom: Bleach (evil loopholes!)
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Word count: 515
Summary: You can be pardoned, you can be forgiven, but you can never be the same.
They called it a clean slate for her.
Ichigo had to hand it to that skeezy Sandal-Hat, he had some excellent tricks up his sleeve. The gigai he gave Rukia was better than perfect. It was real. A real, alive human body was the perfect present for the ‘congratulations on not being executed’ celebration. She could go back to Karakura. Back to his world of dime-store manga, soccer games, study hall and be free and clear. Nobody from Soul Society was going to steal her away in the night because Ichigo had beaten the idea out of them. For a few of them, twice over.
He had won in the end with his untapped potential and now he got to bring her back with him, safe and sound. The pervert merchant had poked Ichigo with his cane and told him not to be so damn cocky.
“There’s no such thing as totally free and clear,” he said behind the darkness of his brim.
Ichigo thanked him for the advice in the nicest possible way of saying shove off and took Rukia back home with him. As much of a pain as it was, he was kinda looking forward to future misunderstandings she’d have in this world. She’d get better at it eventually, especially since she was going to live here from now on.
Rukia never seemed to miss where she came from. She talked about Soul Society sometimes, mentioning Renji with fondness, her brother with respect, but apparently the last parting had left her bereft of and real connection with that place, which was just fine with Ichigo because that meant he could ignore the phantom twinges of his past battles and focus on his entrance exams.
The Shinigami job was still a chore for him. Hollows were still stupid enough to pop up their ugly heads and get smacked down. It was routine for Ichigo when he was already so massively powerful the A-class were barely worth the one swing it took to banish them. He grew to be efficient at defeating Hollows, especially since Rukia didn’t tag along on his missions anymore and he wanted to get back to her as soon as possible. He liked spending time with her talking about mundane human things and arguing with her about mundane human things.
Rukia told him one day that living was pretty wonderful, even if it meant she had to put up with him. And Ichigo felt a surprising relief at her happiness.
Ichigo liked her being alive. He liked how her flesh was warm when it coiled against his in the dark. He liked her breath smelling of ramen and pez candy when she kissed him. He liked the feeling of being able to protect her and this new life they started together.
But in the lateness of the nights when Rukia would sometimes let slip, no matter how softly, a name not his own Ichigo knew that damn Sandal-Hat was right. And he cursed his powerlessness because there were some ghosts you just can’t see with your eyes.
Title: Tabula Rasa
Fandom: Bleach (evil loopholes!)
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Word count: 515
Summary: You can be pardoned, you can be forgiven, but you can never be the same.
They called it a clean slate for her.
Ichigo had to hand it to that skeezy Sandal-Hat, he had some excellent tricks up his sleeve. The gigai he gave Rukia was better than perfect. It was real. A real, alive human body was the perfect present for the ‘congratulations on not being executed’ celebration. She could go back to Karakura. Back to his world of dime-store manga, soccer games, study hall and be free and clear. Nobody from Soul Society was going to steal her away in the night because Ichigo had beaten the idea out of them. For a few of them, twice over.
He had won in the end with his untapped potential and now he got to bring her back with him, safe and sound. The pervert merchant had poked Ichigo with his cane and told him not to be so damn cocky.
“There’s no such thing as totally free and clear,” he said behind the darkness of his brim.
Ichigo thanked him for the advice in the nicest possible way of saying shove off and took Rukia back home with him. As much of a pain as it was, he was kinda looking forward to future misunderstandings she’d have in this world. She’d get better at it eventually, especially since she was going to live here from now on.
Rukia never seemed to miss where she came from. She talked about Soul Society sometimes, mentioning Renji with fondness, her brother with respect, but apparently the last parting had left her bereft of and real connection with that place, which was just fine with Ichigo because that meant he could ignore the phantom twinges of his past battles and focus on his entrance exams.
The Shinigami job was still a chore for him. Hollows were still stupid enough to pop up their ugly heads and get smacked down. It was routine for Ichigo when he was already so massively powerful the A-class were barely worth the one swing it took to banish them. He grew to be efficient at defeating Hollows, especially since Rukia didn’t tag along on his missions anymore and he wanted to get back to her as soon as possible. He liked spending time with her talking about mundane human things and arguing with her about mundane human things.
Rukia told him one day that living was pretty wonderful, even if it meant she had to put up with him. And Ichigo felt a surprising relief at her happiness.
Ichigo liked her being alive. He liked how her flesh was warm when it coiled against his in the dark. He liked her breath smelling of ramen and pez candy when she kissed him. He liked the feeling of being able to protect her and this new life they started together.
But in the lateness of the nights when Rukia would sometimes let slip, no matter how softly, a name not his own Ichigo knew that damn Sandal-Hat was right. And he cursed his powerlessness because there were some ghosts you just can’t see with your eyes.