Ichigo/Rukia log; Part One <3
Log is private; No characters were there to see, etc. etc.
Who: Ichigo and Rukia
What: aksjdkjahd kjhakshd Confessing things they've never told anyone before. And Understanding one another. And Comforting. And Being There for one another. And cuddles. And ajksdhkjahds dkjfhkjsh fk
Where: Ichigo's bedroom.
When: Sunday night. After Ichigo got back from his camping trip. Storms abound.
Why: Randomly at first and then because everything fell into place perfectly.
Notes:
+ So we're log whores. SO WHAT. You're just jealous that you don't log as much as we do. >|
+ This is a long one. Not going to lie. If you aren't a fan of deep characterization and delving into a series as far as humanly possible, then this probably isn't the log for you. But if you do appreciate characterization and exploring the dynamics of a relationship and exploring canon to the breaking point, I think this would be an excellent log to read.
+ I know you people read 12K+ fics. Don't even give me that. :|
+ kajsdh kah dsu hausdh u ha askjhdkuah sdkuh kuas dhkuh akud hkauh dsku hasdukhk
+ Have you ever cried while logging? Because Riah and I have.
+ Ichigo cries. skdjfh kjsdhfk hsukdfh @_____@
+ This might be my favorite log ever. ♥
Rukia shifted a little in her sleep, frowning and sweating slightly. There was a storm raging somewhere. Whether it was the one outside Ichigo's window or the one threatening her sleep that was bothering her, she was not consciously aware. Regardless, one or the other, or perhaps a combination of both, had left the girl feeling almost feverish, nightmares of the past dancing in her mind.
She turned towards the edge of the bed, unconsciously reaching out for the body she had grown so used to having next to her. Not finding one, however, she clutched instead at the blanket.
Ichigo had somehow ended up against the wall, the coolness of the plaster the only relief he could find from his cold sweat when he pressed against it with his forehead. It didn't help with the nightmare, though. He shivered as the rain in his ears seemed to thunder down all around him, soaking him to the bone and freezing him once again to that spot along the riverbank. He knew everything would be okay again if he could just move, run out and help her, roll over and cling to her, but moving was the one thing the rain wouldn't allow, and he curled up tighter into himself as the thunder boomed and roared all around him.
Rukia could feel the rain pounding down on her again. The cold of that night that seemed to cut through what should have been humid summer weather. She could see the face of Kaien yards in front of her. That white, twisted grotesque face with the long tongue licking at his lips, an evil leer threatening her very being. She wanted to stay there. To fight. To be brave and strong and the shinigami Ukitake-taichou and Kaien-dono were worthy of. But that wasn't her. That was Miyako-dono. That was Nii-sama. That was someone else.
So she turned and ran, running through the rain and the brambles and the branches, soaking her to the skin and cutting into her as sharply as her cowardice was.
Rukia tugged at the blanket, shivering even beneath its warmth. It was as though the rain of that night was seeping through the covers to drive the cold into her bones, even lifetimes later.
Ichigo had already stretched the blankets taught, clutching them around his shoulders in an effort to clutch at something, forced to watch as that horrible scene played out over and over in front of him, made worse now by the fact that he knew what the Hollow looked like, knew how it ate its prey, knew his own uncontrollable reiatsu had been to blame. He was freezing cold and burning hot at the same time, and his mother was screaming again, and he was just a little kid who knew he'd somehow killed her and couldn't do a thing to stop it.
The lightning flashed and he flinched, echoing thunder like a reprimand for his cowardice, his stupidity for leading his mother down there in the first place. He was nine years old again and useless with a sword, shoulder tugging at the blanket stretched around it as he tried to curl up further and hide from it, what he'd done and his inability to ever make it better again.
The Hollow was chasing after her. She could feel his corrupted reiatsu, working over her skin like slimy hands, even from the distance he was at. But she couldn't run. She just couldn't. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair and this was for Ukitake-taichou.
What made her stand still that night, she didn't know. What made her turn around and face the monster that was coming after her. The monster that had devoured the man who had once brought warmth into her world and showed her what it was to listen and be heard. The monster still had some semblance of Kaien-dono's face, but it was twisted beyond all recognition.
All Rukia could think as the Hollow somehow headed straight for her sword was, I don't want it to be him. But then the Hollow was pierced and there was blood pouring--so much blood. The warmth of Kaien-dono's life mixed with the cold wind and the soaking rain and Rukia couldn't tell which rivets were tears and which were raindrops sliding down her numb face.
Rukia instinctively braced herself. Her mind, her entire body was used to this nightmare. Had every image memorized. Every tree. Every raindrop. But something shifted this time. Rukia looked in confusion as Kaien's arms loosened around her and the thanks and promise that was usually on his lips faded away into silence.
His form moved and Rukia glimpsed black eyes with yellow pupils. The face was still Kaien's, or oddly similar to Kaien's and the Hollow who had devoured him--or maybe it was a new one. A familiar one. One she was afraid of only in that she never again wanted to kill the Hollow responsible for devouring the person she cared most about.
Reeling backwards as the realization of who it was slammed into her, Rukia awoke from her nightmare with a gasp.
Ichigo had squeezed his eyes shut long ago, but it did nothing to keep out the images now flashing behind them. His mother was calling out for him and there was nothing he could do; would just get killed if he approached, with no Zangetsu to swing and no skills to make use of.
A flurry of movement beside him announced the arrival of help. Finally. His eyes snapped open as his head turned to follow the small black figure, then widened when he realized who it was. An eerily familiar chuckle sent a shiver racing down his spine, and suddenly it was his own Hollow with Rukia and his mother at its disposal, and he was licking the blood from his lips with a crazed grin.
He rushed before he realized he couldn't, but it was too late now. Zangetsu was heavy in his hands when he swung, but the Hollow made no move to parry, only grinned mockingly as the weight in Ichigo's hands was suddenly gone, and he found himself bringing fists closed on air down on the sharpened edge of his own blade, and the Hollow was laughing.
He jerked in his sleep at the pain, and the Hollow didn't have to say anything for him to understand what had just happened. He'd killed his mother. He'd be the death of Rukia, too. It didn't matter how much he denied that the Hollow was a part of his soul, Zangetsu's continued support of the creature and Ichigo's own past actions were more than proof enough.
Laughing now, the Hollow raised the arm holding their blade and brought it crashing down over Ichigo, who couldn't call the old man back into his own hands for any amount of concentration he tried. The ensuing jolt was enough to jerk him awake, though it took a moment for him to catch on. Rain pounded his window, momentarily confusing him, and the echo of the Hollow's amusement was still ringing around in his head.
Rukia stared at the ceiling, hearing the rain lashing against the window and the thunder rolling through the sky outside. The storm did nothing to ease the remnants of the nightmare that was still etched fresh in her mind. With each flash of lightning, she could see a different nightmarish image from her dream. One flash and she could see Kaien's face again. Another flash and there was the Hollow, leering. Another flash and there was blood and rain and a fallen fukutaichou. One more flash and-- bright yellow, cold eyes set against a sea of black. Looking at her. Laughing at her.
Shuddering, Rukia turned in bed, wanting to bury her head into her pillow. Upon doing so, however, she felt a jolt from Ichigo's side of the bed and heard his even breathing stop short, felt his body tense even on this side of the bed.
For a minute Ichigo didn't even attempt to move. Then, slowly, his breathing evened out again, the mocking laughter faded from his mind, and the cold sweat that had broken out on his skin became unbearable. He rolled onto his back with a sigh, the cold sheets a welcome relief beneath his clingy shirt, elbow hooking over his forehead as he used his arm to wipe away the sweat there. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head to look, then realized it was Rukia and relaxed again, then realized she was awake and frowned in weary confusion.
"Why're you awake?" he asked hoarsely. He had to clear his throat a couple of times to work past the lump in it.
"Rain," Rukia answered simply, shaking her head. It was the simplest answer. The one with the least strings attached. She noticed Ichigo was sweating and frowned. "What happened? Are you all right?"
Ichigo shook his head and faced the ceiling again, hiding his eyes behind his arm as he closed them. "I'm fine," he grumbled softly. "Nothing happened. What time is it?"
"I don't know. Early." Rukia sighed. Now that she was awake and Ichigo was too, the flashes from her nightmare were fading away slightly, although the fear and guilt they put in her heart remained. Feeling cold and clammy from her dream as well as the storm outside, Rukia scooted closer to Ichigo, hoping he wouldn't mind.
Ichigo was still feeling very distinctly restless. He glanced over when he noticed Rukia moving closer, though he made no move to stop her. "Are you all right?"
Rukia stopped as he noticed her, feeling distinctly hot behind the ears.
"I'm fine," she mumbled. "Just. Rain. Bad dreams. Nothing really."
"Bad dreams," Ichigo echoed softly, closing his eyes again. "Yeah. It's really storming out there, isn't it."
"You too?" She wondered what Ichigo would dream about, but decided it was best not to ask. He would tell her if he wanted to. "It is. The rain's too loud."
"Every time," Ichigo mumbled, suddenly cold now that the feverishness of the dream was wearing off, and his sweat was still cooling. He snuggled deeper under the covers and turned on his side to regard Rukia tiredly, eyes and nose peeking out from over the sheet. "Think you can go back to sleep?"
Rukia turned her eyes to look at the ceiling again. "Dunno," she mumbled. Truth be told, she probably could go back to sleep, but she didn't want to. She was afraid of reliving that memory again. Of seeing Kaien's face turn into a Hollow's and that Hollow's face turn into the one inside of Ichigo. She shuddered, wondering what it meant. "Wish it'd stop storming."
Ichigo watched her shudder and fought the urge to wrap an arm around her, instead scooting closer and holding out his sheets to share. "Maybe we can just try not to listen to it," he suggested.
Rukia edged her way under his sheets, feeling a little better at feeling his warmth. "'Sloud," she said, yawning slightly. "Can you ignore it?"
"Not really," Ichigo admitted, settling the blankets over her again. Her nearness was making his mind muzzy though, and that was a little better. "What'd you dream about?" he asked curiously.
Rukia said nothing for a moment, staring over Ichigo's shoulder at the wall in a daze.
"Memories," she said finally. "You?"
Ichigo watched her, but when she answered and asked him the same he sighed and let his eyes close. "The same," he answered softly. "I hate the rain."
"Me too." Rukia said nothing for a while, simply listening to the storm and comforted in the fact that she was not alone in it tonight. Then she inched a bit closer and pulled the sheets up so it reached Ichigo's shoulder and her chin. "Your....mother?"
Ichigo hesitated a moment before nodding. He lifted his eyes to look at Rukia again. "What about you? Your old fukutaichou?"
Rukia looked away, nodding in turn. "The rain reminds me. Of it."
There was a lock of hair threatening to fall across her face. Ichigo brushed it out of the way and let his fingers linger there a moment until she looked at him again. "Any way for you to think about something else?"
If Rukia had been more awake, she might have blushed at the gesture. But as it was, all she could think was that this was warm and comforting and maybe it would help her forget about it for a while.
"I don't know. This helps." She let her eyes drift closed, but she was still awake. "What about you?"
"What helps?" Ichigo wanted to know, ignoring her question. Talking to her helped him, so he wasn't very concerned about himself.
"Talking. It makes the rain sound quiet," Rukia said. It wasn't the complete truth, but she wasn't about to tell him that somehow being near him made it better. She cracked open an eye. "You never answered my question."
"That's because it's the same," Ichigo replied. "Talking's good."
"Have you always been this way?" Rukia asked quietly. It was a personal question, but he didn't have to answer it if he didn't want to.
Ichigo's brows furrowed in confusion. "What way?" The way she phrased it made it sound like there was something wrong with him.
"With the rain. And the...nightmares," Rukia said, watching him. He hadn't admitted that he'd had a nightmare, but she had had enough of them to know that a good dream didn't keep one awake at night.
"Oh." Ichigo sighed and shifted, flicking his eyes away from her as a scowl tugged at his face. "I guess so. You?"
"....Yeah. For a while." She scootched up a little so that her eyes would be level with Ichigo's instead of with his chin. "I've gotten used to them." Well. That was a bit of a lie. You could never truly get used to nightmares like those. But Ichigo didn't have to know that.
Ichigo snorted, calling her out on her lie out of his own experience. "No you haven't. No one does. But thanks anyway." He tried giving her a small, brief smile. She was trying to make him feel better, and he appreciated that. "Was yours really bad tonight?"
Rukia scowled. Damn boy was too perceptive for his own good.
She sighed, watching the lightning flash outside.
"It was....different," she frowned. In all of the decades since Kaien's death, the nightmare had never once changed. Every once in a while Kaien would blame her for his death. Call her selfish. Call her a coward. But never had his face changed into that of something else. She reached up, rubbing her eyelids as though it would make the image of Ichigo's Hollow go away.
Ichigo watched her, frowning as he recalled his own dream. "Mine too," he admitted. The Hollow that had killed his mother had never changed shape before, and Rukia had never tried to fight it for him. Had never died fighting it for him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to listen to the rain again.
Rukia noticed Ichigo tensing again and scooted up until she was just inches away. She reached up to smooth the scowl from his brows.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
Ichigo blinked his eyes open in surprise. Rukia was suddenly much closer than she had been before, but he found he didn't really want to move away. "The same thing as always," he replied just as softly, "only worse. Why was yours different?"
"If you're any more specific, I might know what you're actually talking about," Rukia scoffed quietly, but with no real sarcasm in her voice. "It changed at the end. That's never happened before."
Ichigo's look turned to one to one of curiosity. "It did? How did it change?" That both his and hers had at the same time was...unsettling, especially given the subject of his own nightmare's change, and the recent unveiling of information about exactly what the bastard could and couldn't do while he slept.
Rukia turned her head so she wouldn't look at him. The scary part of her dream was the realization that his Hollow could have actually been in it. After what Renji had told her, she wouldn't have been surprised. But the thought made her shudder, wondering what he was doing there in the first place.
"Kaien-dono's face....changed."
"Changed?" Ichigo recognized that as the name of her old fukutaichou, the one she'd been forced to fight or something when a Hollow turned him against her. He didn't know anything but the barest details, and even they were flaky at best. "Changed into what?"
"A-a different....Hollow." By all rights, she shouldn't even be telling him this. She had never told anyone about her nightmares before, not only because they recounted her most horrible memory, but because they were personal and showed her own weakness and cowardice. That she was willing to go this far and tell Ichigo-- well. It might have meant something. She didn't know. Perhaps it was the fact that they both shared this affliction. This fear of the rain, born from memories they both regretted.
Ichigo didn't think he'd ever heard Rukia stutter before, not when he wasn't specifically trying to embarrass her about something. Without giving himself time to overthink it and change his mind, he slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. It made his cheeks flush, but right now he didn't really care. It was raining outside and Rukia could use the extra comfort.
"Just a random one?" he pressed. "Or a specific one?"
Rukia blushed as well, but didn't stop him. Instead, she rested her head on his chest, holding onto his shirt slightly.
"A....familiar one," she answered quietly. She didn't want to have to explain it to him, hoping he would understand who it was without so many words from her.
It was him. Ichigo cursed under his breath, his arm around Rukia tightening. "I'm sorry. He didn't...do anything...did he?" Shit. Shitshitshit. He winced as he remembered all the things he'd done to Renji. He doubted he'd done the same to Rukia, if she'd only thought of it as a bad dream, but if he'd even tried something similar...
"No," Rukia said immediately, shaking her head. She knew that tone in his voice. Her grip on his shirt tightened. "He didn't do anything. I woke up as soon as I saw him. Don't worry. It was fine."
Ichigo released a sigh of relief, muscles he hadn't known were tense slowly relaxing. "Good. I'm still sorry. I don't want to be the cause of your nightmares."
Rukia shook her head. "You would never be the cause of my nightmares." She reached up to give him a reassuring kiss on his cheek, but she had slipped down in the bed, so she ended up lightly kissing his collarbone instead.
Ichigo's breath hitched, his heart suddenly beating much faster than it had been before. He swallowed thickly and prayed Rukia didn't notice, his fingers drifting over her back in a subconscious attempt to get his mind off it. "Good," he said again, and couldn't think of anything to say after that.
Rukia, in turn, felt her face heat as Ichigo's fingers drifted over her back, sending simultaneously warm and cold shivers from where they touched.
"What about your dream?" she asked, hoping to distract herself from awkward niggles in the back of her mind. "How did yours change?"
"You were in it," Ichigo admitted in a murmur, since she hadn't dodged him when he'd asked about her. "And so was he." He pressed closer so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes, fitting his chin comfortably on the top of her head. He realized suddenly what his fingers were doing, but didn't stop them. Her skin was too soft.
Rukia shifted a little, snuggling closer to make them both comfortable as he rested his chin on her head. She felt herself relax. Ichigo's closeness drove the sound of the storm almost completely away.
"What happened?" she asked softly, hoping he would explain a little.
Ichigo took a deep breath and shifted slightly against her, her warmth and scent and nearness making him drowsy again. He could hardly remember that it was supposed to be raining outside.
"I was nine again," he explained softly. "On the riverbank. And I...watched...my mom. And then you ran in too, and it wasn't Grand Fisher anymore, and...ugh, I just hate the way he laughs." It made him shudder to think about, arm tightening around Rukia's waist.
"Ichigo." Rukia hated the sound of pain in his voice. He was hurt by the memory and hurt by the dream, she could tell. She wanted to help him, to make those memories fade away so that he would never have to sound like that again. He didn't deserve to sound like that. He was too young. She reached across, lying her hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in what she hoped was a soothing manner.
"Is that when you woke up?" she asked quietly, hoping he would continue, but not willing to force him if he didn't want to.
"No," Ichigo admitted. It was painful to talk about this aloud, but her touch was making it a little easier. A little. "I charged with Zangetsu and he took him from me. Again. And...when he swung it I woke up." He sighed tiredly, though his muscles were still tense, breathing still just a little quicker than it needed to be. Stupid dreams. He had no reason to be feeling like this, and no reason to burden Rukia with his helplessness, even if, for no reason he could even fathom, he wanted to tell her. "Sorry. I guess you don't need to listen to all this."
"Did he try to take Zangetsu from you only after you tried to attack him?" Rukia asked quietly. If the Hollow was leaking into Ichigo's dreams, chances were that he was trying to tell Ichigo something. Perhaps the same something that he had been trying to tell the boy through Renji and through her. She hoped Ichigo would listen soon.
Rukia shook her head at his words, hand still on his shoulder. "No. You need to tell someone. There's no reason...you shouldn't-- I will listen. I...want to listen."
"You don't have to," Ichigo murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head drowsily. She didn't have to, but he appreciated the fact that she was. He sighed. "Yes, he took him after I attacked. But I didn't have him until I attacked. I don't know, dreams never make any sense."
"Who said anything about having to, moron? I said I wanted to," she grumbled at him, coloring. She shifted, not sure whether or not to be uncomfortable that her heart had, for just a moment, skipped a beat at his light kiss. Shaking the thought away, she pressed on. " Maybe he was trying to talk to you again."
"About?" Ichigo said with a snort, dubious. "He didn't even say anything, just laughed. Did he say anything to you?"
"Did you give him a chance to talk? You woke up, didn't you?" Rukia said gently. "I did too."
"I'm glad you did," Ichigo told her softly. "I don't want him talking to you. What happened in yours?"
"I don't mind. I can handle him," Rukia said, shaking her head. "It was nothing. I....saw Kaien-dono's face and suddenly he had yellow and black eyes and I knew who it was. And I woke up. There was nothing more to it."
Ichigo was silent for a moment, stroking Rukia's back thoughtfully as he debated whether or not he should pry. Then he decided that it was the middle of the night and they were in his bed and it was storming, and if she was going to tell him anything, now was as good a time as ever.
"What...happened back then?" he asked her quietly, throat working against the top of her head. "With Kaien?"
Rukia didn't answer at first. There was so much to that simple question. Memories she didn't want to face. Fear and guilt and cowardice that she did not want to admit. If she told him now, there would be no turning back. If she told him now, she would be the one changing the way he saw her. She had never shared the complete details with anyone--not even Renji--for that specific reason.
But this was Ichigo, not Renji. He was the one whose life she had so irreparably changed. He was the one who fought through life and death to save her from Soul Society. He was the one struggling with an inner Hollow that was partially her fault. He was the strongest, despite being a 17 year old boy. A substitute shinigami. A Vaizard. And if truth be told, he was the one she trusted above all. Her best friend. If she didn't tell anyone else, she at least owed it to him.
"Kaien-dono was my fukutaichou," she began quietly after a long period of silence. Her voice was strained with emotion even though she had hardly begun. Typical. "He was the one who helped me...fit in. To the Gotei 13 after Nii-sama adopted me and I was excused from taking the Academy exams. He treated me normally when most would hardly treat me as....anything. I admired him and Miyako-dono. They always...had a way of making everyone feel welcome. Kaien-dono and...Miyako-dono were the ones who kept 13th Division together since Ukitake-taichou was sick. Everyone loved them."
"Who's Miyako?" Ichigo asked softly, trying to imagine what it was like for her back then, growing up without family and being familiar with nothing around you. He was so used to his family and Karakura that it was difficult. The emotion in her voice made it obvious the memories were still painful to her, though, and Ichigo stroked her back soothingly in the hopes that it would somehow help. "What was it like with them? For you, I mean, not just for everyone."
"Miyako-dono was Kaien-dono's wife," Rukia said, feeling guilty as she saw the former 3rd seat's face wash up in front of her eyes. "She was 3rd seat in 13th Division and the most beautiful shinigami most of us had ever seen, both physically and personality-wise. She was kind and gentle, but powerful too. She and Kaien-dono were perfect together." Rukia didn't realize when she slipped from a simple explanation to a sad nostalgia, but she found that once she started, she couldn't stop herself.
"Kaien-dono and Miyako-dono were opposites in a sense. Kaien-dono joked with me and...talked to me...and treated me normally. As though I was just any other member of the division. And Miyako-dono was...kind. With her words and her actions. Between the two of them, I felt as though I had finally found a place to stay."
Ichigo held her close, allowing her to say whatever she thought needed to be said without interruption. "And then?" he urged when she paused, nuzzling her head gently for support. "What happened later?"
"We didn't know it was going to happen. Miyako-dono was dispatched with a group from our division to take care of a Hollow that was being rather obstinate," Rukia said, holding onto Ichigo a little tighter than normal. "She was the only survivor of the party. We didn't know at the time, but it was because the Hollow had completely devoured her. Body and soul. That was what he did. What his power was."
At this point Rukia had to stop talking, her throat burning with emotion. She could see Miyako-dono's face in the moonlight, blood dripping down one side. Pale as the moon. It wasn't a memory she cherished. Not when the woman she had admired and aspired to be for so long was torn down into a Hollow.
But she had to force herself to continue. The sooner she did, the sooner she could finish her story.
"Kaien-dono was outraged, of course. Ukitake-taichou, Kaien-dono, and I went after the Hollow after he revealed himself. Kaien-dono asked to fight the Hollow alone. For his pride. And Ukitake-taichou wouldn't let me help him. It was a fight for his pride and honor and if I interfered, I would have killed both. But he died anyways. So what did it even matter?"
"He--" Ichigo began to reply, then stopped, frowning as he reminded himself that he wasn't this man, that any guesses he made of the reasons for his actions would be nothing more than just guesses, and that anything he told Rukia she had probably told herself at least a million times before. So instead he sighed and held her tighter, perturbed by her shaking, vulnerable state. Rukia wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be kicking him in the head and yelling at him for doubting himself. She wasn't supposed to doubt herself.
"I would guess," he said after a moment, "that he was happier dying to avenge her than he would have been living without her. Even though it left you all alone. He shouldn't have done that." He paused and kissed the top of her head again, trying anything to make her feel better. "You know I won't ever do that, right? And I won't let you. You're stuck with me for a while."
Rukia nodded her head, hardly noticing what she was agreeing to. But then, so many people had promised her that they would stay with her. Renji had promised her. Kaien had promised her. But none of them had ever kept their word. She wanted to believe that Ichigo would be the one she could trust, but she knew better than to believe any sort of promise in a time of war, especially one coming from a human boy. With her luck, Soul Society would tell her to erase his memory when they learned her had a Hollow living inside of him. So it was better to nod and make him think that she believed in that false hope.
She willed herself to continue the story. She was almost to the end. And once she finished, she could stop wondering what Ichigo would think of her once he knew.
"Kaien-dono went to fight the Hollow. But it broke his zanpakutou and devoured him just like it devoured Miyako-dono. He looked like Kaien-dono, but he was distorted. He looked broken and disgusting, nothing like Kaien-dono, but the face was still the same. Ukitake-taichou realized then what we were dealing with and told me to run." Rukia buried her face in Ichigo's chest, not wanting to look at him or his reaction to what she was going to admit next. "And I....did. Just like that, I ran to save my own life, leaving Ukitake-taichou and Kaien-dono--no. The Hollow, behind. The Hollow eventually followed. Ran in my direction. Taunted me. But then he fell. On my sword. Shirayuki pierced him and there was blood and the Hollow was gone. And it was Kaien-dono's broken body that I was holding."
Ichigo had no idea what to say to that for a moment. He felt something for her at her confession--knew instinctively that that's what it was, that she blamed herself for the entire thing because she was an idiot like that--but he couldn't put a name to what it was. Not pity; while he felt sorry for what she'd been through, he didn't feel sorry for her, not in the degrading sense that pity implied. Not repulsion either, nothing even close to it, though he could guess from the way she was hiding her face from him that she expected he might. If he had to put a name to it he'd call it anger; anger at not being there for her, anger at his inability to protect yet another person he cared about from something horrible, anger that fifty years later she still had the nerve to blame herself for something so completely out of her control. Frustration, too, that he couldn't think of anything to say to her to make it better. And another emotion that made his chest feel like his heart had somehow collapsed in it, that made him want to kill Kaien all over again for hurting her like this, and so that she wouldn't have had to--even though he knew that was stupid and impractical--and that made it feel like somehow, even though he was pulling her tight against him and burying his nose in her hair, he couldn't get quite close enough.
"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, nuzzling her for both their sakes now, because she obviously needed it and for some reason he did too. He wanted to tell her that no one should have to go through that, that it was worse than what he'd gone through with his mother, but he didn't think that would help at all. So instead he just squeezed her tightly and hoped his presence, at least, would let her know he wasn't going anywhere. "I'm sorry."
Even though they were laying down, close together, Rukia collapsed against Ichigo, the weight of what she had confessed and of the anxiety that had been burdening her for so long falling in on her. She wasn't sure what it meant, but Ichigo's actions had none of the disgust or repulsion or disdain that she had imagined it would have. Somehow, his actions were soft, gentle, and understanding. She tried to detect even a hint of blame or condescension, but she couldn't and that, above all, made her tremble from shock and relief. For Ichigo to take what she told him in stride--for him to not judge her because of what she did and what she didn't do--it just went to show what a kind-hearted person he was. Behind that scowl. Behind that attitude and that urge to brawl and fight, there was something to Ichigo that he did not let everyone see. Rukia felt at once grateful and overwhelmed to have seen it. To have felt it. And all at once she felt unworthy of it too.
"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to." He had asked her, yes, but he hadn't wanted her to unload her entire burden on him. She hadn't meant to. But he had been there and he had been Ichigo and now it was all she could do to apologize to him and hang onto him as though he was her lifesaver to keep her from drowning in the storm.
Ichigo shifted just the smallest bit so he could kiss her forehead instead, then nuzzle it, then kiss it again, hands on her back trying to smooth the trembles from her body. "Don't apologize to me, stupid," he grumbled, though there was no hint of annoyance in his words. "All I wanna know is why you thought you had to wait so long to say anything. I had no idea." He squeezed her once, for emphasis, then decided he liked holding her that tightly anyway and didn't let go again. "Next time you have a nightmare," he promised, "I'll make sure I wake you up from it."