Ichigo/Rukia log; Part Two <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 had to split it into two parts. So WHAT. >|
+ Think of it as a break between chapters. :||
+ This part contains the real juice of the log and all of the compassion and feelings and character depth and ajksdhakj hdkh akusdh akuhd yeah
+ I think. Ichigo's holding onto Rukia the entire time during this log. akjsdhkjahd *_________*
+ And she's stroking his hair. X33
+ But then he's also crying. ;____;
+ Kubo wishes he was this good. :|
+ ♥__________________♥
Rukia held onto his shirt, his warmth and closeness making her feel dizzy, but comforting her all the same. She felt pathetic, holding onto Ichigo when he had just woken up from nightmares of his own--nightmares that no 17 year old human boy should have--but he was there and he was Ichigo and somehow that calmed her more than most things could or would. She hadn't realized how used to his presence she had gotten, hadn't realized how much quieter and more peaceful it was when she slept beside him, and she wasn't in any state of mind to analyze or try and figure out why this would be so--all she knew was that Ichigo wasn't shying away from her and so, just for this one time, she felt it might be all right to be a little selfish and accept his kind gestures and hold onto him, regardless of whether or not he was feeling awkward.
"I--I've never told anyone," she said, voice barely a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to judge me for what I had done." Ukitake-taichou knew, of course. And so did Byakuya. But they were different. In a category separate from the people she wanted to hide her story of cowardice from. Renji. Ichigo. Orihime. The people she wanted to prove herself worthy of.
Ichigo shook his head, words to phrase his response to that ridiculous statement momentarily eluding him. "You idiot," he breathed into her hair. "You've been walking around for fifty years trying to hide that from people, haven't you? Stupid..." He nuzzled her temple gently in an effort to show her in actions what he couldn't manage in words. She was even stronger than he'd thought. Here he was haunted by a memory that had taken place less than ten years ago, an accident on his part, by all means, while Rukia had been performing her shinigami duties alone with the knowledge that she had brought about the death of someone probably just as close as his mother had been with her own sword, her own actions, her own choices. It made him feel like he was throwing himself an endless pity party for no reason, and that thought made him tighten his arms around her.
"I'm amazed you had the fortitude to do it," he told her quietly. He tried to imagine what he'd do if the same happened to Yuzu or Karin or his father and winced. "Why would I judge you for that? Don't you ever think about how many lives you probably saved doing that? Kaien's included. If being possessed by a Hollow is anything for him like it is for me, I'm sure he's grateful you stopped him from doing something really horrible."
"It wasn't any strength on my part," Rukia said, shaking her head. She didn't want Ichigo to get the wrong idea. It wasn't because she was strong that she had kept from telling anybody. It was because she was weak and didn't want anyone to know the horrible things she had done. There was no strength or courage about it. "There could have been another way. If I had just stopped Kaien-dono from going. If I had gone first or had forced him to realize that he didn't have to fight the Hollow alone for Miyako-dono's pride. What I ended up doing was just to save my own life. No one else's."
It was hard, forming words for her deepest secret and then admitting them. But each explanation she gave, each admission she made, made her feel just a little better. A little lighter. As though piece by piece, the burden that had so imposed upon her for the past few decades was finally chipping away.
"He would have gone anyway," Ichigo murmured. "If the Hollow took his wife, he would have gone no matter what you said, or hated himself for not going, and then he'd be where you are right now. You saved him from that too, at least." Jeez, she'd saved him from so much, and here she was thinking she'd only saved herself. "You're so stupid sometimes," he told her gently. "It's not your fault the Hollow attacked, and it's not your fault it took Kaien's wife, and it's not your fault he wanted to avenge her by himself. The only thing that's your fault is that you were dumb enough to blame yourself for all that for so long. You saved him. Sometimes...you just have to save people from themselves."
Somewhere deep inside, Rukia knew that what he said was right. She knew that what he was telling her and what Ukitake-taichou had told her and what Kaien-dono whispered to her even as he died in her arms was correct--had always been correct. That perhaps it hadn't been her fault. That perhaps she had saved Kaien from the Hollow instead of just saving herself. It was a hard reality to accept when she had, for so long, refused it. To believe in this explanation would be to believe in herself and that was something Rukia hadn't done since Rukongai.
It was amazing, in a sense, to think that Ichigo could somehow help her break past that. To even make her consider that perhaps the time to lay blame on herself was in the past. She couldn't have said why it meant so much, hearing it from him, but something about the tone of his voice--something about the way he was holding her and the way he was listening made her realize, in pieces, just how hard it had been to carry that burden all alone throughout the years.
"Y-you're good at that, aren't you?" she managed to whisper, trying to keep her voice from cracking.
The entire situation was overwhelming. The rain, the nightmare, the warmth-- Ichigo. She was tired and drowsy and hardly thinking straight and she had to keep reminding herself that Kuchikis Do Not Cry. Not in front of others. And not for selfish reasons.
"At what?" It was obvious she was trying not to cry, and Ichigo let a hand stray up to stroke her hair in another attempt to soothe her, though if she needed to cry he certainly wouldn't mind. If he knew her at all, she'd barely let herself feel anything about it but guilt since the day it happened, and while he didn't want her to have to feel anything at all, if it would help her get over the incident, he wanted her to go ahead and do it, and do it while he was there to help her through it. Which...meant a lot, he realized suddenly. That he wanted to be there when she cried. He normally detested it, and here he was welcoming it. But it was Rukia, and she needed it. He didn't really mind giving her what she needed.
He never really minded that, to be honest. He just...kinda wished he could do more.
"You don't have to pretend stuff around me," he whispered back. "I think it'd be easier if you stopped thinking you did."
"Saving people," Rukia said through a watery laugh. And it was true. On more than one level. Ichigo had always been good at saving people. He had saved his family. He had saved Orihime. He had saved Chad and Ishida and Tatsuki and Keigo and Mizuiro and Hanatarou and Ganjyu. He was constantly saving people. And her. He had saved her from the first Hollow. From execution. Had achieved bankai and stopped the soukyokuu singlehandedly just so she wouldn't die. And now he was saving her again. Urging her to talk to Shirayuki. Listening to her about the one memory that had so often caused her nightmares and drained her of any confidence or sense of self-worth that she had. He was always saving her. One of these days she wouldn't be able to let him go.
The thought was discomfiting at best. To realize how dependent she had grown on him. It was not befitting of a shinigami or a Kuchiki. It was too human. But if Rukia had been the worst shinigami to pass through the Academy, then, at least for now, she could pretend to be human and listen to what Ichigo was telling her.
"I can't. It wouldn't be fair," she heard herself saying, despite her own confused thoughts. "I should be telling you that. You hold everything in."
"I don't," Ichigo replied with a frown. So maybe he didn't go around announcing how he felt about causing his mother's death, but he didn't lie about it, either, if people actually asked. He just didn't think the majority of them wanted to know; they had their own problems. "And anyway, we're not talking about me. I don't think it's fair that you do think that. I know you act all tough around Renji and all noble around your brother. You shouldn't have to act either sometimes."
"You do. You and your stupid hero complex. You save everyone." But where would they be if he didn't? The thought made her laugh slightly, heat rising to her face for a moment. "Not everything's about being fair. Some things just have to be handled a certain way. And I'm all right with that. That's the way it should be." She was on the verge of incoherency now, she knew. She held onto Ichigo tighter, closing her eyes as her forehead pressed into his chest.
"Not everyone," Ichigo told her quietly, the knowledge making his gut wrench in a way that had become familiar over the years. "And I don't want to be handled 'a certain way'. I don't handle you a certain way. You should know you're a part of the family now, Rukia, even if you don't want to be. Yuzu and Karin and Dad all think so. And you don't hide stuff from family."
"Your mother?" Rukia asked quietly, sensing Ichigo stiffen just a hint from what must have been his most painful memory. "It's not my place to intrude on your family, Ichigo. I know that."
"When she died it practically destroyed my family," Ichigo replied almost bitterly, clinging to her now more because he wanted to than because he felt that it would help her. Not only had his mistake cost his mother her life, but it had changed Karin and Yuzu's too, forced them both to grow up without knowing her at all. "The last thing you're doing is intruding on it, stupid. You helped save everyone from that Hollow the first night. You're welcome in it."
"That wasn't your fault, Ichigo. You didn't know what a Hollow was," Rukia said softly. It seemed ridiculous to her that Ichigo was blaming himself for something anyone could have done. Something he had mistakenly done when he was a child. It hurt her to think about all the pain it must have caused him. "No, Ichigo. You helped save everyone from that Hollow."
Ichigo shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I still led her right to him, whether I knew what he was or not. And I couldn't have done anything to that Hollow if you hadn't been there. I would have just let them all get killed too, and it would have been my fault again."
"You were trying to save a little girl, Ichigo. Someone you thought was going to drown. You were living up to your name. You did nothing wrong." Rukia held onto him tightly, unconsciously rubbing his arm again. She wanted him to confront this just as he had made her confront her own memory. She wanted him to confront it and triumph because he was Ichigo and he deserved nothing less. "And what could I have done? I was injured when you arrived. You took my powers and saved everyone. You were the one who saved your family, Ichigo. Not me."
"Only because I took your powers, idiot," Ichigo told her, avoiding her other words as long as he could. "On my own I was just an idiot with a baseball bat; he would have crushed me, and then he would have moved on to the girls." He shook his head at the rest of her statement. He knew it wasn't true, and wasn't going to delude himself into thinking otherwise. "If I hadn't been there," he explained softly, "she would still be alive today. It is my fault, Rukia."
"That just allowed you to reach what potential you already had," Rukia said, shaking her head. She would make him understand. "Your mom loved you, Ichigo. She was protecting you because she felt you were worth it. Wouldn't you risk your life to save Karin or Yuzu? There's no difference."
"Karin or Yuzu wouldn't have been so stupid," Ichigo retorted. "And I never would have been able to unlock that potential without you, no matter how much I had. Why are you so determined to say you didn't help? You saved all of us that night."
"That is bullshit and you know it," Rukia replied. "You were a child, Ichigo. You were trying to save a little girl because you didn't know then what you could see. When will you get it through your damn head that this isn't your fault?" She chose to ignore his latter comment. Now this wasn't about her. It was about him overcoming his memories.
Ichigo sighed and closed his eyes. He was too tired to have this conversation right now, not to mention how tired he was of having it in general. "Whatever, Rukia," he said with another sigh. "Let's not have this conversation right now, all right? I'd rather sleep."
"That's stupid, Ichigo," Rukia said, angrily. "I told you everything. I told you things that I haven't told anyone in decades and you won't pay me the same respect? Are you really that afraid of dealing with the fact that maybe you should let go of this unnecessary blame you've put on yourself for the past 8 years?"
"It's not unnecessary!" Ichigo shot back, but his stomach was churning with the knowledge that she was right. She'd confessed everything to him, and now he was hiding from her. But. He just felt so stupid for being torn up over his mother's death for a mere ten years when she'd been torn up over Kaien's for fifty. "It's just..." He sighed and hugged her tighter, glad she couldn't see his face. But she'd told him the truth, and he owed her that much at least. "It's just dumb compared to yours."
"It damn well is, to blame yourself for something you couldn't control. Something that happened when you were nine years old. When you knew nothing about Hollows or Soul Society or that your reiatsu flows uncontrollably and that it's not your fault." Rukia was angry. Angry at how he kept blaming himself for something that had never been his fault. Angry at how he had to carry this burden with him at all times. And angry at how unfair it was that he had had his pillar of support taken away from him at such a young age. Him and Karin and Yuzu and even Isshin. It wasn't fair. She kept a tight hold on him, hands reaching up to stroke his hair. "It's not dumb. Oh my god, sometimes I think you're a moron. Pain is never dumb, Ichigo. It still hurts, no matter how long you've had it."
"You're one to talk," Ichigo grumbled, though the unexpected feel of hands in his hair kept him from getting angry again. It brought back memories, though, good ones turned painful over his years alone. No one had really stroked his hair like that but his mother.
"It doesn't matter what I knew, Rukia," he continued softly. "It just matters what I did. I drew the Hollow out. I led Mom right to it. I did. No one else is to blame."
Rukia ignored his first comment, instead continuing to run her fingers through the soft orange hair.
"Have you ever thought, Ichigo, that maybe there is no one to blame for her death? That maybe it was one of the things that happened? That you happened to be there and she happened to be there and there's no use in applying blame because that damn Hollow would have killed you if it wasn't her or any number of people? Are you going to take responsibility for every single death that the Grand Fisher caused? Are you going to blame yourself for every Hollow that attacks? For every person lost to the Arrancar in this war just because you happen to have high enough spiritual power to see them? Don't you see what a destructive cycle that is? And a pointless one." She quieted for a moment, hoping that he was listening. "Don't you realize how many people you've saved, Ichigo? Not just your family. You've saved Orihime and Chad and Ishida and Arisawa-san and Keigo. You've saved Renji and Nii-sama and all of Soul Society. And you've saved me, Ichigo. You've saved me more times than I can count. I owe my life to you."
"I owe mine to you, too," Ichigo murmured quietly. Her words weren't helping. He knew what she was trying to say, but it just wasn't true. He knew it wasn't true, had proof it wasn't, but...didn't want to admit that. Not to her. Not to anyone if he could help it--it was bad enough his family knew--but especially not to Rukia.
"I help people because...I owe her," he admitted softly, hoping that even if Rukia thought he was selfish for that, she would at least understand why it was his fault, and stop trying to insist that it wasn't. "I couldn't help her, so I try to make it up by helping everyone else. But..." He hesitated, then shook his head, the pain and guilt of all those days waiting by the river for her flooding his system more powerfully now than they did when he revisited the spot every June. She still hadn't been there this year. Still. "It doesn't matter," he told Rukia with a small sigh that was half annoyed snort, irritated with himself for dredging this back up again where Rukia was forced to see. "None of it matters. I'm glad I can help people now, but it still doesn't matter to her."
Rukia let her hand leave his hair, bringing it down to one side of his face instead, while bringing up her other hand to the other side, so she could hold his face between them.
"What do you mean it still doesn't matter to her?" She asked softly, staring at him. "What are you trying to hold back, Ichigo? Tell me."
Ichigo felt his chest tighten as he dropped his gaze from hers, eyes darting to the side as shame balled up in his gut. "She never came to say goodbye," he admitted to her in a whisper, the confession making his throat tighten to the point where it was difficult to swallow past the lump in it. "I waited there for her every day for weeks," he went on; he didn't want to have to force himself to say this again, tell Rukia of all people how his own mother had avoided him. "Every other ghost I've ever seen has come to say goodbye, or thanks, or whatever else. She didn't. She didn't want to see me afterwards." He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, breathing heavily, a little shakily, as he fought against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He wouldn't let himself cry. If Karin had managed not to cry once in all of eight years, her big brother could damn well do the same. He closed his eyes and willed his voice not to crack, though it was hoarser than he'd have liked. "She's still not there. Every year I look, and she's still not. None of it matters."
Rukia could feel a lump rising in her own throat as Ichigo admitted this to her. She could tell that this was the one thing he had never told anyone. The one thing that could break him. And as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, she could tell that he was breaking. The strong, powerful shinigami who didn't take no for an answer and let no obstacles stand in his way was holding onto her and breaking into a million different pieces. And it was all she could do to hold on and try to make sure the pieces fell where she could see them. So that she could pick them back up and glue them back together. Because hell if she would let Ichigo remain broken.
"Oh god, Ichigo. Is this-- Is this what keeps you going? The thought that she'll come visit you if you somehow prove to her that you deserve her? Oh god." She held Ichigo tightly, stroking his hair gently and urging him to release the emotions he'd held back for the past eight years. "She loved you Ichigo. She loved you so much. I don't know that anyone couldn't. Did you ever think that it was for that reason that she never came back? Because she loved you and she knew you. And she knew that if she let you see her again, you would keep holding on. You would keep holding onto your mother and it was the time to let her go. Do you know, Ichigo, what the alternative would be? What if your mother had stayed? Had come back to visit and stayed because you wanted her and needed her? You're a shinigami, Ichigo. You know what would have happened to her soul. Do you think she would want to face you like that? The person she loved most of all?"
Ichigo was heaving with the effort not to cry, but even so he felt warm tears wet his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut against them, teeth gritting as he at least tried to repress any noises; it was bad enough he knew she could feel the damp. "She still could have said goodbye," he reasoned, voice betraying any effort he'd made to keep his weakness from her. "I would have been fine if she'd just said goodbye. I didn't want her to stay. I know ghosts can't stay. But I wanted her..." He broke off to sniff and swallow thickly, his throat burning so badly he could barely manage. "I just wanted her to let me know it was okay. Let me know she didn't blame me for it. Only she never did." He pressed his face into Rukia's shoulder and hugged her tightly, panting now with the effort to hold his emotions in check. This was ridiculous. He was seventeen. He was in the presence of a shinigami who probably thought he was acting like a whiny child. He'd never had this problem before, not since the day it had happened, when he'd woken up on the riverbank and saw his mother lying there unmoving, and knew all that blood around her had to do somehow with him. And yet he couldn't stop, and dammit, Rukia's hands in his hair were just making it worse, reminding him of how much his mother used to love and care for him before he'd killed her.
"What are you doing, Ichigo? What the hell are you doing carrying these kinds of feelings around? This kind of guilt and burden and never once crying? You're shaking, you moron. Why are you trying so hard to hold back? Who told you that you could? Who the hell gave you the permission to hold back your tears when they're obviously killing you?" Rukia could feel her own throat burning. She wanted to cry. She wanted to keep on holding him and cry until he did and just lay there until they had both released all of the tears and emotions they had spent years locking up inside of them. God damnit it just wasn't fair.
"You were nine years old, Ichigo. Nine years old. Nine years old and you lost your mother. Nine years old and blaming yourself for a death that wasn't your fault. Your mother knew that. She gave birth to you. She raised you. She loved you more than she loved herself. She knew that if she came back to say goodbye to her nine year old son, she might never be able to leave again. Don't you think-- Have you never thought for just one moment that maybe she blamed herself? That maybe she didn't come back to see you because she thought you would blame her for abandoning you? Do you think that the woman who would always smile at you and hold your hand and hold you at night when you had bad dreams--do you think that woman would ever blame you, Ichigo? Is that the type of person she was? If she didn't say goodbye Ichigo, then it was because she loved you too much, not because she blamed you. Because goodbye has a finality to it, doesn't it? It means you'll never see one another again. I think that your mother would never have wanted to make that type of a promise to you."
"But still, she could have at least..." Ichigo didn't even know. He shook his head slowly, trying to say something to say in argument to that, but he couldn't. It didn't matter if his mother blamed him or not; he blamed himself, and he could never forgive himself for taking her away from her daughters, who had never even gotten the chance to know her, or from her husband, who still devoted himself to her even though she was gone. His mother should have come and told him not to worry, that things would be okay, that she was okay giving her life for him, so that he might be. But she hadn't. That's what moms were supposed to do, right? They were supposed to comfort their kids no matter what. And she was the best mom ever, and she still hadn't. She hadn't even given him a smile to say it was okay. She'd just...disappeared, and if that was supposed to keep him from clinging then it'd failed, because he'd spent every day since then watching every ghost he could glimpse in the hopes that one of them would be her.
"What do you want me to say, Rukia," he asked hoarsely. He really was crying now, and he hated himself for it. Hated that he was the big brother and he was still acting like a stupid little kid; that he was the cause of his mother's absence and he was still mourning it like he wasn't. "I shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be forcing all this stuff onto you." He unwrapped an arm from around her to wipe at his eyes, but it felt awkward now without her and he immediately put it back again. "It's not fair that you have to know all this stupid stuff about me. I know my mother wasn't the type to blame people for stuff. She would never; she would take all the blame onto herself, and that makes it even worse because she shouldn't..." His voice cracked again and he hid his face in Rukia's shoulder, cursing himself for acting so weak.
"I want you to say that you forgive yourself, Ichigo. I want you to say that you understand this wasn't your damn fault. That your mother loved you more than anything. That you know what she did she did out of her own free will and that the reason she didn't come back to say goodbye wasn't because she hated you, but because she loved you. Didn't you trust her, Ichigo? Don't you trust her?" Rukia said softly, her own voice shaking. She wanted him to listen to her. Wanted him to feel what she felt. The pure belief she had for him in everything and the knowledge that no matter what, Ichigo had never, once, hurt anyone--least of all his mother. She wanted to pass that feeling to him, to make him believe that. But all she could do was lay there, supporting him and speaking words she believed in. She felt so helpless and useless, moreso than she had ever felt before. "It's not fair. I know. She left all of this to you. You father, your sisters, that empty space where she used to be. She left without a word and you had to pick up where she left off. Making sure Karin and Yuzu never cried. Making sure you pretended not to see when your dad hurt. It's so unfair Ichigo. That's why you never smile. Because you've never gotten a chance to."
She stopped for a moment to collect herself. Her voice was thick from trying to keep her own tears held back. She rewrapped her arms around his neck, letting both hands drift into his hair. She wanted desperately to soothe him, through actions and words.
"But I think that your mom believed in you. She knew that even if she left, you would be able to keep your family together somehow. She knew that you would never forget her. That you would do everything you could to keep Karin and Yuzu and even your dad safe and happy. I don't think anyone has ever blamed you, Ichigo. No one has ever blamed you but yourself. You need to let that go. I don't think your mom could rest peacefully knowing that you were still hanging onto that guilt and blaming yourself."
Ichigo didn't reply for a moment, taking comfort in Rukia's warmth and touch and presence and...words. He hadn't thought that his feelings of responsibility and guilt might have been bothering her. She was right, though; his mother wouldn't want him blaming himself for anything, even if the fault was his. He just...wished she'd told him it was all right. Even if she was trying to help them both by not coming, he wished she would have. She'd always told him that, no matter what had happened, what mess he'd managed to get himself into as a child, and the one time she hadn't, it never really had been again.
"I'm sorry," he sniffed against Rukia's neck, turning his head there so he could breathe freely as the light hitches in his breath finally subsided. "I just...I don't know. You're right." He nuzzled the curve where her neck met her shoulder, breathing in her scent and taking solace in it. She hadn't thought he was a big baby for crying in front of her. She hadn't even thought he was a walking guilt trip for sleeping restlessly just because it rained. She was, in fact, probably the only person he knew of who could identify with him in that restlessness, that guilt that would never quite go away, but...felt a little better now. "I'm sorry I told you all this," he murmured, voice muffled by her skin, "but I'm glad I did." His body was relaxing against hers, and he sighed, though not tiredly, just...in relief. He hadn't known what a burden that had been to carry around alone, so much of one that just admitting it to someone, someone he knew understood, made him feel so much lighter. He let his eyes drift closed again, this time in drowsiness, as her mere presence enveloped and soothed him. He didn't know how to thank her in words for being there for him, so instead he kissed the corner of her jaw and hoped she'd understand anyway.
"Stupid. What are you apologizing about?" Rukia said. She wanted to laugh a little, although if she did, she would probably end up crying. Even if Ichigo's words weren't confident, she knew that he had somehow understood. She had told him what needed to be said and he had, at least, understood that even if he didn't believe it, it was the truth. Knowing the truth and truly believing in it were two different things entirely. That would take him longer to come to terms with. It had taken her fifty years and she was still trying to grasp the concept. But she knew that he would get there eventually. She tightened her grip around him protectively, promising that she would be there with him until he did.
"You never have to be sorry about telling me anything, Ichigo. Never." She could feel him relaxing against her, that tension and anxiety that had usually made him stiff dissipating slowly. Her body responded by relaxing in turn, feeling the weight of her own burden lifting. Her gigai--no. Her soul felt lighter than it had since before she had joined the Academy. Decades and decades of worry and guilt and self-worth that amounted to dirt falling away from her.
Ichigo's strength and warm and hold on her mesmerized her, leaving her dizzy and peacefully drowsy at the same time. She kept his hold on him and returned his kiss to her jaw with a kiss to his temple before shifting closer. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't mind.
Ichigo smiled against her collarbone, eyes drooping lazily in exhaustion after the night's emotional events. "Then you can't either," he told her softly, somehow much more comfortable in her presence than he ever had been before. His hand retreated from around her back only enough to catch on her hip, fingers drifting gently over the skin beneath her shirt, the movement a lazy gesture of relief and thanks that he didn't know quite how to voice. It was still raining outside. He could hear it thundering against his window, occasional lightning flashes illuminating the room around them, lighting on Rukia's face and form and for once, relaxing him further. It was almost a soothing sound when he didn't attribute it to that day at the river. It was certainly making him sleepy, anyway, and he tucked his head under her chin in a silent plea for her to run her fingers through his hair again, sighing comfortably to himself as he rested his head there. "I feel better," he murmured, probably more asleep than awake. "Thank you."
Rukia stiffened for a moment as Ichigo's touch sent a shiver through her and, for a moment, made her uncomfortably conscious of who he was and who she was and how terribly close together they were. But she pushed the thought to the back of her mind and managed to relax again, smiling as he tucked his head under her chin. The soft orange bristles tickled her, but felt nice otherwise. Taking her cue, she set her hands in his hair again, gently running them through.
"I'm glad," she said softly, listening to his breathing even out. She found it much calmer and easier to listen to it than the rain still pounding outside, although the latter had become a faint noise in the background for her. "Go to sleep now."
Blushing for just a moment, she ignored her inner voice to express her gratitude towards him in the gentlest possible way. Leaning down, she gave a light kiss on top of both of his closed eyelids before returning to her original position to think and eventually let his breathing and warmth lull her to sleep.