smile
(well i'm not sure how things work around here, but here goes!)
title: smile (oneshot)
author: cherryshotgun
summary: Rukia wonders if she could be the one to bring the smile back to his face.
pairing: ichiruki
rating: T
word count: 2564
warnings: AU, probably some ooc, pointless fluff and angst.
[*do take note: This is an AU story, whereby there isn’t any shinigami business and all. Rukia & Ichigo meet when they’re kids. Byakuya is a nice onii-chan. Hisana is…idk. Doesn’t really matter. The rest of the characters flow as such.]
Rukia stared at his obnoxiously bright orange hair, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Hair shouldn’t be like that, she thinks. Hair should be nice and straight, kept prim and proper, just like Nii-sama’s, not junk like that.
The five-year old continued scowling disapprovingly at the boy, who did not seem to take notice of her blatant animosity towards him. In fact, he seems happy to be of acquaintance with her, offering her a sweet, little boy smile.
“Hi!” He grinned cheekily, reaching his hand out. “I’m Ichigo!”
Rukia did not return the gesture, until Byakuya nudged her forward.
“Don’t be rude, Rukia,” His deep baritone commanded softly, and Rukia begrudgingly obliged.
“Rukia,” She replied coldly.
“Hi, Rukia!” Ichigo said cheerily. “I like your eyes! They’re really pretty, just like Mommy’s!”
Rukia was caught off guard, and she swallowed nervously. Why is he making it so difficult for her to dislike him? She huffed in frustration.
“…Thanks.” Rukia said quietly. She wanted to end it that way, but Byakuya had other plans, as he cleared his throat and gave Rukia the look.
Be nice, it said, and Rukia wanted to throw a tantrum right now, but she would never disgrace Nii-sama; never! So, she kept it in, and took a deep breath.
“I…your hair looks nice too,” She lied through her teeth, and she wondered in despair if her nose was going to grow just like Pinocchio’s.
A little white lie wouldn’t kill, would it?
“Really?” Ichigo pulled up a huge, sparkly grin, which could made the sun blush in embarrassment. “Mommy has the same hair as I do! I love it too! Although, some guys in the class doesn’t seem to like it so much…but I’m really happy that Rukia-chan likes it as well!”
…And the white lie just boomeranged back straight into her heart. Rukia wanted to hide herself in a hole and drown in all the guilt and shame she’s feeling right now.
She swallowed thickly, not daring to look up at the jovial boy.
“Well, um, those guys…those guys really suck!” Rukia blubbered, and covered her offending mouth frantically.
There was a pregnant pause in the air, the tension so thick you could practically slice it up with a blunt butter knife.
Rukia looked up gingerly to cast a worried glance at Byakuya, thoroughly afraid that she has disgraced the family honour, but to her pleasant surprise, his eyes portrayed no such thing; in fact, they seem to hold onto a glimmer of pride, and the tell-tale twitch on the sides of his lips.
And Ichigo burst out laughing.
“R-Rukia-chan! You’re so…funny!” He clutched onto his sides painfully, tears of mirth sliding down his face like raindrops on the window pane during a rainstorm.
The sound was pleasant to Rukia’s ears, and she joined in the fun, Byakuya watching from the sidelines, as always.
They would have continued as so, if not for Masaki’s appearance an hour later, calling for Ichigo to go home for dinner.
“Oh, you’ve made a new friend! What’s your name, pretty lady?”
Her eyes twinkled merrily. Rukia was entranced the second she landed her eyes on her.
“She’s Rukia, Mommy!”
She decides that she really likes Ichigo’s Mommy as well.
It took some time to convince Ichigo to let go of the sandpit and go back home with Masaki, and eventually, the boy left reluctantly.
“You’ll be here tomorrow as well, right?” He called back, already a few metres away from the playground, fingers intertwined snugly with his mother’s. Masaki smiled back as well, and Rukia figured that Ichigo probably got his smile from her.
She looked up questioningly at Nii-sama, and he nodded his head ever so slightly in agreement. A huge grin spread across her porcelain features.
“You bet!”
And as she watched the retreating backs of two of the loveliest people she’ll ever meet, Rukia couldn’t help but feel rather glad that Nii-sama brought her to the playground to play that day.
-
-
-
He was never really the same after Masaki’s death.
He didn’t smile anymore, didn’t talk to anyone at all. Didn’t want to talk to anyone, actually. Rukia thought he had finally reached the point of no return, when she finally accepts that he’s gone, gone with his dead mother, until they reach the second year of middle school, when Ichigo started opening up, allowing others to enter into his world once again.
But it never felt the same, Rukia muses.
He still hangs around with her. He still jabs at her. He still calls her a bitch. He’s still her best friend.
But Rukia couldn’t help but notice his lackluster of the boy she knows when they were five, at the playground, Byakuya Nii-sama and Masaki, Masaki right there, next to them.
Even Tatsuki - who’s known him since they were like, what, a year old? - agrees with Rukia on this little fact. He’s not the same little Ichigo they’ve known since they were little. He’s grown into a hard, mature teen, who’s experienced one of life’s hardest obstacles; losing a loved one.
She’s accepted that fact, and although she tells him that his maturity makes him so much more bearable (he called her a bitch for that), Rukia secretly misses his adorable tendencies to be happy around everything because his Mommy is around.
Masaki is no longer around now, though.
Rukia wonders (and wishes) if she could bring back the smile she adores so.
-
-
-
It was not until the first year of high school when Ichigo flashed that smile once again.
It caught Rukia off-guard, and she was left staring blankly at the teen, juice dripping from her mouth ungracefully.
Before she knew it, Ichigo’s permanent scowl was back in place.
“Rukia, that’s gross,” His face contorted into a disgusted look as he threw her a paper napkin. She caught it and wiped the juice away quickly, as she continued staring blatantly at him.
After a while, Ichigo finally lost his nerve.
“…What? S’there something on my face, midget?”
“Do it again.” Rukia commanded in her all-powerful Kuchiki tone as she slammed her juice box down.
“Do what again?” Ichigo asked, brows brought together in bewilderment.
“Oh, you know; smile!”
Ichigo rolled his eyes and muttered about crazy women under his breath, and Rukia punched him in the gut.
“I heard that, you know!”
“Well, I’m glad you did!”
“Bastard!”
“Bitch!”
And Rukia couldn’t retort any further, because the thought of seeing Ichigo’s smile was embedded deep into her mind and slowly made its way towards her heart, as she felt happiness bubble up inside and laughter slipped through her lips.
Before long, Ichigo chuckled a little at her ridiculousness as well, and Rukia swears that she has never felt so accomplished in her life.
-
-
-
She sees that smile on his face, but it isn’t directed to her. Not anymore.
Inoue Orihime giggled sweetly at what Ichigo had just said, and the couple shared a look.
We’re the only ones allowed here, it said. No one else, but us.
Rukia felt the acidic bile rise up slowly in her throat, and she forced it down. Not now, not now, not now, not -
“Rukia?” Renji appeared right next to her, a worried frowned marring his features. He noticed her line of vision, and he understood. He understood perfectly. Being close friends with these two, being the one who chased after her blindly, always lagging right behind; who wouldn’t?
“You don’t have to force yourself…” Renji said, uncharacteristically quiet, as though a single sidestep would break the fragile lines into a million haphazard shrapnel.
“I’m fine,” Rukia smiled, and it hurts, it hurts so bad, to pull up the sides of her lips, to lie to her friend.
Another single white lie made a boomerang turn right through her heart, once again.
“I’ll be fine.”
The rain patters noisily in chaotic patterns against the window panes.
-
-
-
“You don’t have to go.”
He tells her this the night before her departure to god-knows-where, and Ichigo frowned at the girl he had known for so long, so had grown in a raven-haired beauty, who he desperately wants to love.
He is a coward, he admits.
Rukia rolled her vibrant, violet eyes at him.
“I’ll be fine, Ichigo. It’s not like Nii-sama’s sending me off to the Sahara Desert without a drop of water or something.”
He wonders if he’ll miss those beautiful eyes he loved so much since he was younger when she’s gone. He wants to tell her that he’ll miss her, wants to talk to her every night from across the globe, because she’s going to freaking America to live with her stuck-up grandparents for a while or something like that.
But he’s a coward, and all he could do is to grunt and cross his arms indifferently.
“You don’t have to go,” He repeats stubbornly, and Rukia sighed in annoyance at him.
“Stop being so immature, Ichigo. I’ll be back before you’ll even miss me.”
He’s starting to miss her already, he thinks.
“I -“
Rukia glanced up at him innocently.
“You what?”
I’ll miss you, was what he wanted to say, but he was a coward, had always been. His cellphone rings.
“I…have to go now,” He says instead, slipping out the device and checking the caller ID. “Inoue’s calling.”
“…oh.” Her face fell, and Ichigo vaguely wonders why. “Well, don’t keep her waiting! I’ll…see you soon, I guess.”
“…Yeah. Soon.”
As he watches he retreating back, Ichigo couldn’t help but hate himself for being such a coward.
-
-
-
You are cordially invited to the blissful celebration of the wedding between Kurosaki Ichigo and Inoue -
Rukia clutched onto the pristine white parchment tightly, and laughs bitterly.
Who still uses parchment now, anyway? She tried to add a little humour to cheer herself up, but it was obviously not working.
Her eyes stung, but she thought little about it.
It has been three years, three long years since she’s left Karakura Town, and this is the sort of shit she gets when she had just returned.
Her tears splattered messily on the leathery invitation card, and she hastily wiped them away.
She’ll be strong, she wills, as the words begun to blur out of focus as more tears gathered up. She’ll be strong, because that’s his choice, Inoue’s the one he loves, and she’ll respect that.
The cords around her lungs tighten, and she finds it hard to breathe, with all the emotions suffocating her well-battered heart.
Rukia breathes in a deep breath, and steps out of the car, and into the flowery, festive hell.
-
-
-
Rukia laughed engagingly as she caught up with her old friends. She missed them dearly so, but the joy of meeting them once again could not meander its way towards her heart.
She had yet to spot the couple of the day.
“Why’d you have to come back? Karakura was so much more peaceful while you were in America,” Renji grins, and Rukia poked at his ribs.
“Oh yeah? I’d bet a horse that you missed me like you miss your snake-baboon-plushie thing -“
She finally sees them in all their glory, merriment floating about in the air around them, and Rukia wanted to retch out whatever she ate the night before.
Which was nothing, she recalled. How could she have had the appetite to eat, when Kurosaki Ichigo is getting married the next day?
It was as if it were a slow-mo movie; Inoue turned around, her beautiful auburn hair flipping like it’s from some freaking shampoo commercial, and smiled the brightest smile Rukia had ever seen on her.
“Kuchiki-san! I’m so glad you could make it!”
The ditzy girl made an awkward sort of run towards her, and hugged her tightly. Rukia patted her on the shoulder back, all the while thinking you should be happy for him, you should be happy for them.
“Congratulations,” Rukia smiles gently.
“Rukia.”
She stiffens, and doesn’t want to turn around.
Inoue lets her go, and she doesn’t have much choice but to do so.
“Hey, Ichigo,” She smiles, her eyes stinging, her heart wrenching, but it’s nothing, she tells herself. Nothing. “Congratulations.”
He returned her well wishes with a familiar shrug, and Rukia wanted so much to just reach up and take him into her arms, but he’s someone else’s husband now, she reminds herself curtly. He’s no longer Rukia’s Ichigo. He’s Orihime’s Ichigo.
Kurosaki Orihime.
Her tongue tastes bitter as experimented on the sound of it, and she noticed the blood rise up a flustered Inoue, as she asked to leave for a moment, tugging along the rest of the attending guests with her, leaving only Rukia and Ichigo in the midst of all these sickeningly lovely flowers.
Silence fell upon the both of them, until Ichigo finally cleared his throat.
“I’m…glad you could make it.” His voice sounds raspy, as though he hasn’t used it in years.
Rukia laughs lightly. “Inoue said the same.”
Another pregnant silence followed, and Rukia suddenly found her immaculately cut nails really interesting.
“Rukia, how are you?”
“I’m fine. You?” Rukia asks, before she laughs bitterly. “Oh, wait, I shouldn’t ask. I’m sure you’re fine, getting married and all. Congratulations. Oh yeah, I said it before, haven’t I?”
“Rukia,” Ichigo frowned at her, but she continued babbling, the words she’s spilling out finding a life of their own.
“I’m sure you’re happy, because she’s definitely the right one for you, you know? She’s pretty, she’s kind, she can cook - oh, who am I kidding, but I’m sure you’ll survive - and she loves you so much, probably even much more than I do even after all those fucking years of knowing you and -“
Rukia clamps a hand across her mouth before she could dig deeper into her own grave, as she saw Ichigo’s eyes widen spectacularly. What did I say? Oh God, what did I say?
She was suddenly brought back to the memory at the playground, where they first met, where she babbled in front of Ichigo, but this time, there isn’t Nii-sama around to assure her if everything’s going to be alright, going to be okay.
“Oh shit, Ichigo, forget what I said, go back to Inoue now -“
And Rukia found herself unable to continue once again, as Ichigo caught her lips with his own.
The seconds felt like years, and when Ichigo finally pulled away, Rukia stared at him disbelievingly.
“You…”
“I’ve been a coward, Rukia.” He brought his arms around her, engulfing her into a warm hug. “I was so scared, that you wouldn’t feel the same way towards me. I was afraid to ruin what we had between us.”
Rukia relaxed into the hug, melting into the warm embrace she’s craved so much since forever.
He looked into her eyes, his gaze soft and searching.
“Forgive me?”
She smiled, and hugged him back tightly, burying her face in his starchy suit.
“Only if you will.”
-
-
-
“I’m sorry, Inoue…”
Orihime smiled at her, and shook her head. “Don’t be, Kuchiki-san. I’ve already lost him for a long time now.”
The auburn beauty took Rukia’s hands into hers, and smiled softly at her.
“I’m just really glad that you brought his smile back to him.”
note: This is what you get when I am in a writing sort of mood and absolutely refuse to study for tomorrow’s test (oh wait, more like today, huh). I kind of went like “fuck!” when I realized that I had gotten myself into. Oh well. I just wrote IchiRuki. I regret nothing!
And if you’re feeling sorry for Orihime (I know I do), you can think that she’ll find happiness in Ishida or someone else you ship her with, okay? ^-^ And as for the guest list…probably everyone in Bleach. Ha ha ha…not funny? Okay L
Do point out any errors, and I’ll try my best to correct it! J it’s bound to be full of flaws, since I pooped this out in like an hour or something, in a sleep-induced haze and all. Thanks for reading!
title: smile (oneshot)
author: cherryshotgun
summary: Rukia wonders if she could be the one to bring the smile back to his face.
pairing: ichiruki
rating: T
word count: 2564
warnings: AU, probably some ooc, pointless fluff and angst.
[*do take note: This is an AU story, whereby there isn’t any shinigami business and all. Rukia & Ichigo meet when they’re kids. Byakuya is a nice onii-chan. Hisana is…idk. Doesn’t really matter. The rest of the characters flow as such.]
Rukia stared at his obnoxiously bright orange hair, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Hair shouldn’t be like that, she thinks. Hair should be nice and straight, kept prim and proper, just like Nii-sama’s, not junk like that.
The five-year old continued scowling disapprovingly at the boy, who did not seem to take notice of her blatant animosity towards him. In fact, he seems happy to be of acquaintance with her, offering her a sweet, little boy smile.
“Hi!” He grinned cheekily, reaching his hand out. “I’m Ichigo!”
Rukia did not return the gesture, until Byakuya nudged her forward.
“Don’t be rude, Rukia,” His deep baritone commanded softly, and Rukia begrudgingly obliged.
“Rukia,” She replied coldly.
“Hi, Rukia!” Ichigo said cheerily. “I like your eyes! They’re really pretty, just like Mommy’s!”
Rukia was caught off guard, and she swallowed nervously. Why is he making it so difficult for her to dislike him? She huffed in frustration.
“…Thanks.” Rukia said quietly. She wanted to end it that way, but Byakuya had other plans, as he cleared his throat and gave Rukia the look.
Be nice, it said, and Rukia wanted to throw a tantrum right now, but she would never disgrace Nii-sama; never! So, she kept it in, and took a deep breath.
“I…your hair looks nice too,” She lied through her teeth, and she wondered in despair if her nose was going to grow just like Pinocchio’s.
A little white lie wouldn’t kill, would it?
“Really?” Ichigo pulled up a huge, sparkly grin, which could made the sun blush in embarrassment. “Mommy has the same hair as I do! I love it too! Although, some guys in the class doesn’t seem to like it so much…but I’m really happy that Rukia-chan likes it as well!”
…And the white lie just boomeranged back straight into her heart. Rukia wanted to hide herself in a hole and drown in all the guilt and shame she’s feeling right now.
She swallowed thickly, not daring to look up at the jovial boy.
“Well, um, those guys…those guys really suck!” Rukia blubbered, and covered her offending mouth frantically.
There was a pregnant pause in the air, the tension so thick you could practically slice it up with a blunt butter knife.
Rukia looked up gingerly to cast a worried glance at Byakuya, thoroughly afraid that she has disgraced the family honour, but to her pleasant surprise, his eyes portrayed no such thing; in fact, they seem to hold onto a glimmer of pride, and the tell-tale twitch on the sides of his lips.
And Ichigo burst out laughing.
“R-Rukia-chan! You’re so…funny!” He clutched onto his sides painfully, tears of mirth sliding down his face like raindrops on the window pane during a rainstorm.
The sound was pleasant to Rukia’s ears, and she joined in the fun, Byakuya watching from the sidelines, as always.
They would have continued as so, if not for Masaki’s appearance an hour later, calling for Ichigo to go home for dinner.
“Oh, you’ve made a new friend! What’s your name, pretty lady?”
Her eyes twinkled merrily. Rukia was entranced the second she landed her eyes on her.
“She’s Rukia, Mommy!”
She decides that she really likes Ichigo’s Mommy as well.
It took some time to convince Ichigo to let go of the sandpit and go back home with Masaki, and eventually, the boy left reluctantly.
“You’ll be here tomorrow as well, right?” He called back, already a few metres away from the playground, fingers intertwined snugly with his mother’s. Masaki smiled back as well, and Rukia figured that Ichigo probably got his smile from her.
She looked up questioningly at Nii-sama, and he nodded his head ever so slightly in agreement. A huge grin spread across her porcelain features.
“You bet!”
And as she watched the retreating backs of two of the loveliest people she’ll ever meet, Rukia couldn’t help but feel rather glad that Nii-sama brought her to the playground to play that day.
-
-
-
He was never really the same after Masaki’s death.
He didn’t smile anymore, didn’t talk to anyone at all. Didn’t want to talk to anyone, actually. Rukia thought he had finally reached the point of no return, when she finally accepts that he’s gone, gone with his dead mother, until they reach the second year of middle school, when Ichigo started opening up, allowing others to enter into his world once again.
But it never felt the same, Rukia muses.
He still hangs around with her. He still jabs at her. He still calls her a bitch. He’s still her best friend.
But Rukia couldn’t help but notice his lackluster of the boy she knows when they were five, at the playground, Byakuya Nii-sama and Masaki, Masaki right there, next to them.
Even Tatsuki - who’s known him since they were like, what, a year old? - agrees with Rukia on this little fact. He’s not the same little Ichigo they’ve known since they were little. He’s grown into a hard, mature teen, who’s experienced one of life’s hardest obstacles; losing a loved one.
She’s accepted that fact, and although she tells him that his maturity makes him so much more bearable (he called her a bitch for that), Rukia secretly misses his adorable tendencies to be happy around everything because his Mommy is around.
Masaki is no longer around now, though.
Rukia wonders (and wishes) if she could bring back the smile she adores so.
-
-
-
It was not until the first year of high school when Ichigo flashed that smile once again.
It caught Rukia off-guard, and she was left staring blankly at the teen, juice dripping from her mouth ungracefully.
Before she knew it, Ichigo’s permanent scowl was back in place.
“Rukia, that’s gross,” His face contorted into a disgusted look as he threw her a paper napkin. She caught it and wiped the juice away quickly, as she continued staring blatantly at him.
After a while, Ichigo finally lost his nerve.
“…What? S’there something on my face, midget?”
“Do it again.” Rukia commanded in her all-powerful Kuchiki tone as she slammed her juice box down.
“Do what again?” Ichigo asked, brows brought together in bewilderment.
“Oh, you know; smile!”
Ichigo rolled his eyes and muttered about crazy women under his breath, and Rukia punched him in the gut.
“I heard that, you know!”
“Well, I’m glad you did!”
“Bastard!”
“Bitch!”
And Rukia couldn’t retort any further, because the thought of seeing Ichigo’s smile was embedded deep into her mind and slowly made its way towards her heart, as she felt happiness bubble up inside and laughter slipped through her lips.
Before long, Ichigo chuckled a little at her ridiculousness as well, and Rukia swears that she has never felt so accomplished in her life.
-
-
-
She sees that smile on his face, but it isn’t directed to her. Not anymore.
Inoue Orihime giggled sweetly at what Ichigo had just said, and the couple shared a look.
We’re the only ones allowed here, it said. No one else, but us.
Rukia felt the acidic bile rise up slowly in her throat, and she forced it down. Not now, not now, not now, not -
“Rukia?” Renji appeared right next to her, a worried frowned marring his features. He noticed her line of vision, and he understood. He understood perfectly. Being close friends with these two, being the one who chased after her blindly, always lagging right behind; who wouldn’t?
“You don’t have to force yourself…” Renji said, uncharacteristically quiet, as though a single sidestep would break the fragile lines into a million haphazard shrapnel.
“I’m fine,” Rukia smiled, and it hurts, it hurts so bad, to pull up the sides of her lips, to lie to her friend.
Another single white lie made a boomerang turn right through her heart, once again.
“I’ll be fine.”
The rain patters noisily in chaotic patterns against the window panes.
-
-
-
“You don’t have to go.”
He tells her this the night before her departure to god-knows-where, and Ichigo frowned at the girl he had known for so long, so had grown in a raven-haired beauty, who he desperately wants to love.
He is a coward, he admits.
Rukia rolled her vibrant, violet eyes at him.
“I’ll be fine, Ichigo. It’s not like Nii-sama’s sending me off to the Sahara Desert without a drop of water or something.”
He wonders if he’ll miss those beautiful eyes he loved so much since he was younger when she’s gone. He wants to tell her that he’ll miss her, wants to talk to her every night from across the globe, because she’s going to freaking America to live with her stuck-up grandparents for a while or something like that.
But he’s a coward, and all he could do is to grunt and cross his arms indifferently.
“You don’t have to go,” He repeats stubbornly, and Rukia sighed in annoyance at him.
“Stop being so immature, Ichigo. I’ll be back before you’ll even miss me.”
He’s starting to miss her already, he thinks.
“I -“
Rukia glanced up at him innocently.
“You what?”
I’ll miss you, was what he wanted to say, but he was a coward, had always been. His cellphone rings.
“I…have to go now,” He says instead, slipping out the device and checking the caller ID. “Inoue’s calling.”
“…oh.” Her face fell, and Ichigo vaguely wonders why. “Well, don’t keep her waiting! I’ll…see you soon, I guess.”
“…Yeah. Soon.”
As he watches he retreating back, Ichigo couldn’t help but hate himself for being such a coward.
-
-
-
You are cordially invited to the blissful celebration of the wedding between Kurosaki Ichigo and Inoue -
Rukia clutched onto the pristine white parchment tightly, and laughs bitterly.
Who still uses parchment now, anyway? She tried to add a little humour to cheer herself up, but it was obviously not working.
Her eyes stung, but she thought little about it.
It has been three years, three long years since she’s left Karakura Town, and this is the sort of shit she gets when she had just returned.
Her tears splattered messily on the leathery invitation card, and she hastily wiped them away.
She’ll be strong, she wills, as the words begun to blur out of focus as more tears gathered up. She’ll be strong, because that’s his choice, Inoue’s the one he loves, and she’ll respect that.
The cords around her lungs tighten, and she finds it hard to breathe, with all the emotions suffocating her well-battered heart.
Rukia breathes in a deep breath, and steps out of the car, and into the flowery, festive hell.
-
-
-
Rukia laughed engagingly as she caught up with her old friends. She missed them dearly so, but the joy of meeting them once again could not meander its way towards her heart.
She had yet to spot the couple of the day.
“Why’d you have to come back? Karakura was so much more peaceful while you were in America,” Renji grins, and Rukia poked at his ribs.
“Oh yeah? I’d bet a horse that you missed me like you miss your snake-baboon-plushie thing -“
She finally sees them in all their glory, merriment floating about in the air around them, and Rukia wanted to retch out whatever she ate the night before.
Which was nothing, she recalled. How could she have had the appetite to eat, when Kurosaki Ichigo is getting married the next day?
It was as if it were a slow-mo movie; Inoue turned around, her beautiful auburn hair flipping like it’s from some freaking shampoo commercial, and smiled the brightest smile Rukia had ever seen on her.
“Kuchiki-san! I’m so glad you could make it!”
The ditzy girl made an awkward sort of run towards her, and hugged her tightly. Rukia patted her on the shoulder back, all the while thinking you should be happy for him, you should be happy for them.
“Congratulations,” Rukia smiles gently.
“Rukia.”
She stiffens, and doesn’t want to turn around.
Inoue lets her go, and she doesn’t have much choice but to do so.
“Hey, Ichigo,” She smiles, her eyes stinging, her heart wrenching, but it’s nothing, she tells herself. Nothing. “Congratulations.”
He returned her well wishes with a familiar shrug, and Rukia wanted so much to just reach up and take him into her arms, but he’s someone else’s husband now, she reminds herself curtly. He’s no longer Rukia’s Ichigo. He’s Orihime’s Ichigo.
Kurosaki Orihime.
Her tongue tastes bitter as experimented on the sound of it, and she noticed the blood rise up a flustered Inoue, as she asked to leave for a moment, tugging along the rest of the attending guests with her, leaving only Rukia and Ichigo in the midst of all these sickeningly lovely flowers.
Silence fell upon the both of them, until Ichigo finally cleared his throat.
“I’m…glad you could make it.” His voice sounds raspy, as though he hasn’t used it in years.
Rukia laughs lightly. “Inoue said the same.”
Another pregnant silence followed, and Rukia suddenly found her immaculately cut nails really interesting.
“Rukia, how are you?”
“I’m fine. You?” Rukia asks, before she laughs bitterly. “Oh, wait, I shouldn’t ask. I’m sure you’re fine, getting married and all. Congratulations. Oh yeah, I said it before, haven’t I?”
“Rukia,” Ichigo frowned at her, but she continued babbling, the words she’s spilling out finding a life of their own.
“I’m sure you’re happy, because she’s definitely the right one for you, you know? She’s pretty, she’s kind, she can cook - oh, who am I kidding, but I’m sure you’ll survive - and she loves you so much, probably even much more than I do even after all those fucking years of knowing you and -“
Rukia clamps a hand across her mouth before she could dig deeper into her own grave, as she saw Ichigo’s eyes widen spectacularly. What did I say? Oh God, what did I say?
She was suddenly brought back to the memory at the playground, where they first met, where she babbled in front of Ichigo, but this time, there isn’t Nii-sama around to assure her if everything’s going to be alright, going to be okay.
“Oh shit, Ichigo, forget what I said, go back to Inoue now -“
And Rukia found herself unable to continue once again, as Ichigo caught her lips with his own.
The seconds felt like years, and when Ichigo finally pulled away, Rukia stared at him disbelievingly.
“You…”
“I’ve been a coward, Rukia.” He brought his arms around her, engulfing her into a warm hug. “I was so scared, that you wouldn’t feel the same way towards me. I was afraid to ruin what we had between us.”
Rukia relaxed into the hug, melting into the warm embrace she’s craved so much since forever.
He looked into her eyes, his gaze soft and searching.
“Forgive me?”
She smiled, and hugged him back tightly, burying her face in his starchy suit.
“Only if you will.”
-
-
-
“I’m sorry, Inoue…”
Orihime smiled at her, and shook her head. “Don’t be, Kuchiki-san. I’ve already lost him for a long time now.”
The auburn beauty took Rukia’s hands into hers, and smiled softly at her.
“I’m just really glad that you brought his smile back to him.”
note: This is what you get when I am in a writing sort of mood and absolutely refuse to study for tomorrow’s test (oh wait, more like today, huh). I kind of went like “fuck!” when I realized that I had gotten myself into. Oh well. I just wrote IchiRuki. I regret nothing!
And if you’re feeling sorry for Orihime (I know I do), you can think that she’ll find happiness in Ishida or someone else you ship her with, okay? ^-^ And as for the guest list…probably everyone in Bleach. Ha ha ha…not funny? Okay L
Do point out any errors, and I’ll try my best to correct it! J it’s bound to be full of flaws, since I pooped this out in like an hour or something, in a sleep-induced haze and all. Thanks for reading!