[Action Thread] [Solus] [Rukia] [Closed]

[dramabunny]

The black railed skeleton of the fire escape circled the building like a decrepit carnival ride, neglected since the rollercoaster went off the tracks but listen close enough on darker nights and you might still hear the screams. Corroded metal creaked under the lightest of footfalls, Rukia keeping both hands on the side-rails, waiting for the sudden give that would leave her hanging. Nights were not much warmer yet, the metal bit at her fingertips, having forgone gloves in favour of a better grip.

Steady hands. She could climb anything, a childhood discovery that had laid open the whispering privacy of treetops and begun a lifelong habit of entering via windows, both for secrecy and the element of surprise. This fear of falling was new to her.

In buildings like Lysgar the fire escape made the best point of entry for those without legal right. Break-ins happened more frequently in the apartments under whose windows it formed a makeshift balcony (far removed from Verona, constant traffic the only serenade). Squatters soon learned that taking the less used stairs made it easier for the neighbours to ignore their presence. 'Back window squats'. Rukia wasn't going in. The window a few feet below her feet remained closed, glass rattling with the thrum of guitar, filtering out a faded echo into the street.

She was meeting him mid-way. Packed into her warmest coat and armed with pocketfuls of marker coloured easter bunnies to be threaded onto string for decorations - something to do with her hands - she settled down where the steps flattened out to a wide level. Pushed her legs out through the railings. To listen. To try and let go of the breath that she had been holding tightly all day while it needled sharply at her ribcage. She felt nearly bent double with it.

And still she didn't know. What had she done, exactly? Tried to explain to Orihime the reasons she should talk about her feelings -- You can't move on. He doesn't know he's hurting you. (I can't talk about mine). Perhaps forced the girl's hand without really meaning to, all in the attempt to clear a little space in her own head. Ice was cracking, somewhere, she feared a flood. And now what? Up to her neck in cold water, already out of her depth.

'Take care of him.' How could Orihime fail to understand how that was not Rukia's place. She wasn't a nurse, or mother. She was not 'Hime, and maybe that was where she felt her failings most. She couldn't 'take care' of him, she could kick him when he needed it and would watch him fall flat on his face if that taught him something. Questionable affection, the only kind she knew. It wasn't how people were meant to be, and how could he not want better? How could she ever take his kisses as truths when hers lied, withholding information. And once he knew --

Cold, sharp edges over someone warm and open? There was little debate in it.

She fumbled at her threading, lost a candy coloured rabbit to the sidewalk below. What the other girl had said made it sound as though conclusions were already made. Take care of him. But she could hear him blocking out his thoughts with noise, and Orihime never voted in her own favour. Had Rukia been supposed to thank her, to make promises she wouldn't keep and smile graciously in assumed victory, the best candidate for the job? Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. She never expected to be understood.

And he didn't ask the right questions. Rukia had never been afraid of letting go. Loss was terrifying. She would never try to hold on to anything when experience had proven that it could still be taken from her. Hurting the worse for having been ripped away. Loss marked change. She left home after the first divorce, was brought back with the gunshots and Kaien still fresh in her mind. Now the ground here might be slipping beneath her and she was decidedly short of places to run. Nobody had ever held her down before, there weren't many she would allow to try.

So he knew. It would be fairer to all of them in the end, Orihime's life had halted a long time ago as she waited for him, Rukia could not progress in the face of uncertainties. Ichigo should know that he had a choice, even if c) make everyone happy
was not an option on the cards. He was beyond due figuring out that it seldom was. And she could let him go, if she had to. Not feel what she felt. She had done just that for long enough, after all. Seven years? Maybe four, and she would still have pushed him away back then, not ready. Glaciers melted slow.

Whatever song it was ended on a humming vibrato. Shivered the railings as she climbed back up to the window left open (always the chance of escape, second star to the right and straight on 'til morning), no resolutions, but a stringful of rabbits and the will to wait a little longer.