Fanfic: Reason Enough - IchiRuki
OK, so I srsly need to actually POST some stuff in this thing. I mean, I made it for fanworks, afterall. So I guess I'll go ahead and post my latest fic, called Reason Enough.
It's Bleach, IchiRuki, and it was originally supposed to be a short little songfic/drabble but it decided it wanted to be longer. So it is. Anyway, enjoy.
Reason Enough
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Pairing: IchiRuki
"Ichigo, look!"
A piece of brightly-coloured paper was immediately dangled in front of the orange-haired teen by a small hand. Well, maybe "dangled" wasn't a strong enough word. "Forcefully placed with lighting speed" came to mind as one eyebrow raised slightly as he read the writing on the sheet. It was a flier, the sort that clubs and the like tended to post all around the campus to promote whatever inane activity they were doing at the time. This one was nothing new. At least, not as far as he was concerned. Scowl deepening slightly, he frowned and sat up as he brushed the offending sheet of xerox paper out of his way to scowl at the black-haired girl holding it.
"Yeah, so what? That supposed to matter to me for some reason?"
Rukia frowned, pulling the paper back to study it.
"What's this "prom" thing that they're talking about? Some sort of club thing?"
Rolling his eyes, he laid back down on the bench. She'd just HAD to ask about it, hadn't she? Here he'd been, minding his own business during free period, and what had happened? The short, noisy shinigami had suddenly loomed over him and stuck, of all things, a prom flier in his face. And if Kurosaki Ichigo didn't want to participate in club activities, he certainly had no desire to dress up in a penguin suit and sit stiffly around pretending to be nice to people. Hell no. In fact, he'd rather have his teeth drilled. Or parade around school in Ishida's Quincy outfit. Or...any number of painful and torturous things. ANYTHING was preferable to a formal dance.
"Look, I ain't interested in these kinda stupid things. Go ask Inoue or Chad or something."
Handing the paper back to her, he cocked his head to the side as if to say "Now do you finally get it?". The petite shinigami frowned, shaking her head.
"But Ichigo, what IS it? It seems like a big deal, everyone's talking about it. And about reservations and something called a "limo", and is it some sort of big party or something?"
Glaring at her over his bento, he rolled his eyes again. Great, he wasn't going to get ANY lunch, now was he? Sitting up and swinging his legs off of the side of the bench, he ignored her until the sharp impact of one foot against his shoulder caused him to yelp and yank the appendage out of the way with a snarl at the girl.
"What the fuck did you just kick me for?!"
Violet eyes scowled back at him as the petite Kuchiki crossed her arms over her chest with a glare.
"You were ignoring me, you dumbass. Now tell me what the hell a "prom" is."
"Or what, you'll draw something for me? I don't think I deserve THAT sort of torture, but-"
His snide remarks were cut off by four small fingers. Chin, meet hand. With a dirty look at Rukia, he stood up and loomed over her. It was unfair, using his height to try and intimidate her, but he wasn't in the best of moods. And her kicking him hadn't helped. Not that the looming helped, either. In fact, all it earned him was a remark about how he ought to "quit being such an asshole", and a sharp kick in the shins. Growling, he clenched one fist by his side. Oh, but he wanted to hit her right now. And it galled him that not only could he NOT do so, but also that were he to take leave of his senses and actually carry OUT said thought, regardless of what she did later he would never forgive himself. Afterall, she WAS a girl. Sure, she was a hundred years or so older then he was, and she was violent and annoying and loud. But still a girl. And despite the fact that he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself, it didn't mean that Kurosaki Ichigo was going to make an exception to his "don't hit girls" rule.
"If I tell you, will you shut the hell up about it and quit being a bitch?"
Small features melted into a charming smile as she nodded. Of course. Afterall, it would mean she had gotten her way. Which was what she'd wanted in the first place.
"So, what's a prom?"
With a sigh, Ichigo ran a hand through unruly orange locks and sat back down. "It's a dance. Just a stupid, formal dance where a bunch of idiots dress up in stupid fancy clothes and eat fingerfoods and pretend they actually like each other. There, you satisfied?" He hoped she was. Hell, if he kept having to talk about it, she might try and make HIM go. And he'd already been down that road in the mental wonderland he called his brain. Oh no. Prom in itself was a no-go. Prom with a noisy and irritating and beautiful shinigami was even MORE of a no-go. Frown shifting slightly into one of puzzlement, he rolled the mental phrase over in his mind. Where did the "beautiful" come from, anyway? Maybe Kon was rubbing off on him. Shuddering at the idea, he felt his heart stop as those fateful and doom-laden words sounded like silvery chimes from beside him.
"Ichigo, go to this prom thing with me."
Not a request, not even really a plea. Not that he was surprised. No, when it came down to things between he and Rukia, it was never a request. Always an order. Afterall, the raven-haired girl was not one to sit idly by when she didn't get her way. But this time, he was NOT giving in. Shaking his head, he resumed eating his lunch.
"No."
Irritated look returning to her face, she planted hands on her hips and grabbed the top of his head, yanking his head up by his hair.
"Yes. It'll be fun, Ichigo. And I want to go."
And there it was. The one word that made him shudder. Fun. "Fun", he had found, seldom held true to the definition in the dictionary. In fact, in most cases, "fun" had translated to something along the lines of "everyone else has fun while Kurosaki Ichigo has to put up with them". Scowl deepening as he wrenched his head from her grasp, he stared at her for a moment. Crossing hands over his chest, he shook his head frantically.
"No, not a chance, absolutely not. I am NOT going! Now quit buggin’ me about it."
Stepping around her yet again, the lanky teen took advantage of the bell's tone to make a dash for the door, leaving Rukia behind him with the flier.
If Ichigo had thought that dealing with Rukia earlier had been a pain, he was finding that in reality it had only served to pave the way for the aggravation of the next few classes. Thankfully, the violet-eyed girl had found that Inoue and Keigo and some of the others seemed to be much more forthcoming with their information then he had been, so now she was bothering THEM instead of him. Taking the few moments between classes, he raised his head from the cradle of his arms to glance over at the noisy group in the corner. Rukia sat, looking entranced as Inoue and the other girls gestured and chattered like a pack of noisy squirrels.
What the hell's so goddamned interesting about a stupid dance, anyway?
With a deeper scowl, he resumed his prior task, which embarassingly enough, was that of keeping a certain pair of violet eyes out of his mind. Perhaps if he were more honest with himself, it wouldn't be so hard to admit that the shinigami didn't irritate him nearly as much as he often pretended. Or maybe it would make it easier to accept the fact that since she had shown up in his bedroom a year and a half ago, there had seldom been a day where she hadn't been on his mind. But, thinking about that also meant acknowledging it in the first place. And while he would argue until he was blue in the face that rescuing her from Soul Society and rescuing Inoue from Hueco Mundo had been completely different, he balked at being asked to try and explain the reasoning behind his assertions.
Why the hell does she get to me so damned much?
Eyes watching the movements and shifts of her eyes, he couldn't help but feel captivated by the deep violet that sparkled in them. Or notice the fact that her movements were, as always, graceful and delicate and poised. Even though he knew perfectly well that she hadn't been born nobility, the orange-haired shinigami would have thought otherwise had he taken the time to consider it. But...was that really what it was that always seemed to grab his attention? Really...what WAS it about Rukia that always seemed to stick in his mind? His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the impact of Asano Keigo and the others as they landed on him. Or his desk. Either way, the effect was the same and he was left threatening to punch Keigo if he did it again. Ichigo's classmate laughed, feigning a wounded expression before he started in on THE topic.
"So Ichigo, who are you gonna take to the prom?"
An elbow nudged him in the ribs as a suggestive look was tossed his way. Behind Keigo, Mizuiro snickered slightly, while Chad was his usual stoic self. Leaning over, Keigo’s face took on a sly grin.
"Bet you're asking Kuchiki-san, huh? You do spend a lot of time with her, you know..."
Crimson stained his cheeks for only a moment before knuckles were grinding their way into Keigo’s skull with a vengeance as he stubbornly and loudly proclaimed his hatred for anything dance-related.
“Would you fucking cut it OUT, Keigo! I already said I’m not going to some stupid fucking prom and I’m certainly not going to one with her!”
If he thought back over it later, he’d have realized how the words sounded. How they would obviously be taken by most anyone who heard them. How they might hurt. But it wasn’t later. It was now, and so with an angry and aggravated huff, he turned his attention back to his desk and away from the rest of the class. Not caring that his sudden outburst had served to stun most of them into silence. Not to mention failing to notice the way a certain pair of hands tightened momentarily on the edge of the desk before her manner relaxed and she resumed the light-hearted chatting with the other girls. Thus it was that Ichigo found himself rather surprised when the one waiting for him after school wasn’t his usual constant companion of a shinigami. Rather, it was the other noisy dark-haired girl in his life. Raising orange eyebrows in a confused manner, his casual “Yo” was cut off by Tatsuki’s fist hitting him in the jaw. He reeled backwards, scowling as he opened and closed said jaw with a frown at the girl.
“What the fuck was that for?! Rukia send you so you could hit me first or something?”
Tatsuki rolled her eyes angrily at him before planting a hand in the center of his chest and shoving him back against the wall as she glared at him.
“You are such an asshole, sometimes. I can’t believe you said something like that!”
She didn’t have to elaborate. The orange-haired shinigami knew exactly what his friend was talking about. Now whether he wanted to think about it or not, that was a different story. That being the case, he settled for a deeper scowl and a shrug.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Besides, I don’t think it’s any of your business what I say.”
Another glare. Oh, she wanted to punch him. Not to mention the irritating man seemed so damned determined to figuratively bash his head against the wall. Tatsuki honestly would have rather kicked him and left. Afterall, why was she even bothering to try and talk sense into the orange-haired idiot. With an inner sigh, she reminded herself that it wasn’t for her, or for him. It was for Orihime. It hadn’t been Tatsuki, but the sweet-natured walnut-haired girl who had noticed the flash of hurt in Kuchiki Rukia’s eyes at Ichigo’s words. Who had seen the minute tightening of the smaller girl’s grip on her desk before the mask had slid seamlessly into place and Rukia was her usual smiling self again. And it had been Orihime who had appealed to Tatsuki to try and talk to Ichigo while she tried to cheer up the black-haired girl who, to Tatsuki’s eyes, hadn’t needed any cheering up in the first place. She mentally chastised her best friend at the thought. Orihime was too nice for her own good at times. Afterall, Tatsuki knew very well how her closest friend felt about the lanky teen who was currently sulking against the wall. But leave it to the smiling girl with the flower-shaped clips in her hair to put her own feelings aside and try to help someone who wasn’t only a friend, but a rival for said boy’s attentions.
Orihime, you aren’t supposed to help the competition. It’s better for you if they’re not as close.
Despite that, Tatsuki knew better. Orihime wasn’t the sort of girl who would stand idly by while those she cared about were hurting. Even if it meant her own feelings were disregarded. And…Tatsuki admired her for that. It took a lot of strength to realize that, regardless of how much she might love Ichigo, the orange-haired boy’s eyes were always on Rukia. And that Rukia’s eyes were always on him. Even if the dumbass himself didn’t realize it. But, it seemed that trying to get the block-headed man to realize what a colossal mistake he had probably just made was not going to work. Which left the direct approach.
“You made her cry, you know.”
That stopped him. The scowl faded into confusion and…something else. Had he…really made her cry? Momentarily forgetting that Tatsuki was standing there, he replayed the last few hours in his head. He hadn’t seen her cry. And she’d certainly seemed happy and content. But then, Rukia always was good at hiding things. Even from him, at times. His inner musings were interrupted in a rather sudden and spectacular fashion by Tatsuki punching him in the shoulder. Obviously, he was doing something irritating again.
“Ichigo! Quit spacing out while I’m talking to you, you moron! You should apologize.”
The scowl returned and he shrugged, brushing off her arm to start walking off. Whether her words had actually made an impact or not, that didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. Besides, Rukia was tough. She wasn’t the sort to cry over something stupid like a prom. Would she? Ignoring Tatsuki’s angry yelling from behind him, he turned the corner and headed home.
Alright, so maybe Tatsuki had been right. At least…to some degree. He’d obviously fucked up on some level, and with the limited information he had, he could only assume it must have something to do with his refusal to go to that damned dance. On his back, rooftiles pressing into his shoulders, brown eyes stared up at the cloud-flecked sky as his mind turned over facts and opinions and…well, to be honest, it was turning over feelings more then anything. Not to mention, he had been reminded of how abjectly boring it was to not have the petite shinigami around him.
Rukia…did I really upset you that much?
It was a question he didn’t really have an answer for. Afterall, the object of his thoughts had made herself scarce over the last few days. He’d seen her at school, but she’d found some excuse to be away from the house every night, and when she was there, she was avoiding him. And as much as he hated to admit it, the fact that she was avoiding him bothered him. More then anything else, it grated against his nerves and beat against something inside him he didn’t want to admit to having. Feelings. Not that feelings in and of themselves were a bad thing. But…realizing that said feelings were fairly strong, and were directed towards a dark-haired girl who was currently in an apparent position of not speaking to him made it a bitter pill to swallow. Sighing, he folded his arms behind his head and resumed his mental banter with his inner monologue. He didn’t….really feel that way about her, did he? He wasn’t supposed to, that equated letting someone in, letting them get close. And…letting others close wasn’t something Kurosaki Ichigo had really planned to do. But then, when had Kuchiki Rukia ever listened to what he wanted to do.
With an irritated growl, he sat up and shook his head to try and derail the train of thought that seemed to be on constant circuit through his head. The train of thought that kept returning to one thing. Rukia. Her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she got the chance to learn something new about the human world. The way her hair would blow in the wind when she sat on the roof with him to watch the sunset. Her strength, the way she fought so hard and demanded respect and equal footing with him. The way her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed when she was yelling at him. The way he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that, and the way he wanted to utterly destroy everything that had ever hurt her or made her cry. Hell, he even enjoyed the fighting and bickering. Realizing quite suddenly that he was sitting on his roof with an idiotic grin on his face, Ichigo groaned and lay back down, one hand over his eyes. Oh hell. He’d just had to go and think about it, hadn’t he? And even though he couldn’t deny that it was true, admitting it to himself just complicated things.
Great, NOW what the hell am I supposed to do?
Logic might have dictated something along the lines of “apologize, then tell her how you feel”. But then, logic wasn’t always Ichigo’s strong point. And therefore, simply seeking out the subject in question and proceeding in a manner of “I’m sorry I was an ass, Rukia. Oh and by the way, I love you” wasn’t a viable option in his mind. Not…because it wasn’t how he felt. Now that he’d managed to admit it to himself, it seemed nauseatingly easy to see that of course he loved her, he’d loved her for quite some time. But…he had no way of knowing how she felt. Well, other then the fact that right now he was apparently the last person the violet-eyed girl wanted to see. Running a hand through unruly hair, he let Tatsuki’s words filter back into his mind.
Apologize, huh? But…how can I do that if she won’t even stay around me long enough to SAY anything?
Staring off the side of the house, he watched as the door slammed and the object of his affections went running out to the street corner to meet Inoue. With a smile and a flutter of words, the two of them immediately began talking animatedly. Probably about that prom thing. Sighing to himself, Ichigo let brown eyes study the small form that had so captured him. Black hair in it’s usual style, slight figure concealed by the lines of the dress she wore. It was a pretty dress, the back of his mind noted. Suited Rukia very nicely, in fact. He was about to toss a sarcastic comment back to that portion of his mind when the shinigami turned, as though sensing his presence, and violet eyes met his brown ones. He froze, tumbling into those amethyst depths like always, but stopped at the expression in them. It was almost…sad, in a way. Following Rukia’s line of sight, Inoue also looked up at him, gray eyes mirroring confusion and then…sympathy? Understanding? There wasn’t really time to mull over it as the long-haired girl turned to her shorter companion with a smile and a nod and dragged Rukia off down the street with a laugh. Ichigo simply sat, slightly dumbfounded expression on his face. Had…he made that sort of expression appear on Rukia’s face? Well, that cemented it in his mind. Whatever he did, he needed to do something. The question now was what?
“Kuchiki-san, you should get this one, it would be perfect on you!”
Glancing up to where the bright-haired girl was holding out a dress on a rack, Rukia smiled slightly and fingered the material. The dress was certainly pretty, and a nice shade of blue, but it just didn’t seem to spark her interests that much. Nodding, she let the soft fabric slip from her hands to turn back to the rack, halfheartedly browsing through the large selection the store offered.
“I don’t know, Inoue. There just isn’t one that…feels right, you know? Maybe I just shouldn’t go.”
Eyes widening, Orihime grabbed Rukia’s hand and shook her head, long hair flying about her face. No, that wouldn’t do. She had brought Rukia here to try and cheer her up, to convince the shorter girl to come with them all to the event. And she wasn’t going to give up, even if Ichigo was being difficult.
“Kuchiki-san, don’t say that. It won’t be the same if you don’t go along, besides you were so excited about it on Tuesday. Don’t you want to see what it’s like? Come on, I’m sure there’s a dress here that’s just perfect for you. I’ll help you look.”
Sighing slightly to herself, Rukia shook her head with a smile. She had to give the girl credit. As odd as it felt to be shopping with Inoue, it was…nice. She’d never really had that many friends at all in Soul Society, least of all any female friends she could do such mundane things with as shopping. After all, growing up in Rukongai hadn’t been about simple pleasures. It had been about surviving. Making it through the night and into the next day. A hard life, with little time left for any sort of leisure activities. And even after entering the Academy, things hadn’t changed. She was a commoner, a native of Rukongai. Beneath the notice of most of the students in the class, and hardly worthy of being looked down upon. Her adoption into the Kuchiki family had only served to tip the scales in the other direction. Now, rather then those around her feeling too good to associate with her, they had changed their standpoint and considered her too good for them. Or at least, considered that her mindset had changed thusly. It was really only since spending so much time in the human world, meeting Inoue and Ichigo and the others, that she’d really had real friends. And it felt…good to have them. It was normal, and familiar, and somehow mundane in a way that wasn’t irritating or tiresome. It was a nice sort of mundane.
“Alright, Inoue. I’ll go, I’ll go. But I still don’t think there’s a dress that’ll look good on me.”
Well, at least that part was true. Pawing through the racks of dresses again, Rukia cursed her slight figure and petite stature. As much as the other girls at school might have cooed and fawned over how slim she was, how tiny and cute and adorable and all sorts of other words they seemed to think belonged to her, it didn’t change the fact that being so small made it nearly impossible to find anything in her size that didn’t come from the children’s department. In fact, the only thing that being so short was really good for was fitting into Ichigo’s closet. Ichigo… That simple thought was enough to bring her mind full circle to return to the issue it had been prodding for the last few days. Despite the fact that it wasn’t really out of character for him, his words had stung. Far more then she’d wanted to admit, both to herself and to anyone else. Thus it had been a complete and total surprise when Inoue had approached her later to ask if she was alright.
I must be losing my touch, or something.
That was, of course, the only reasoning she could come up with for why the walnut-haired girl had been able to notice her reaction to his statement. Afterall, she’d spent years hiding her feelings, perfecting those walls and barriers and defenses that kept people only a certain distance from her.
But…he broke them down, you know. Without you even realizing it, he broke right through all your defenses and took your heart. You knew it then, and you know it now.
And as much as she might have liked to silence the voice in the back of her mind, she knew it spoke truth. In his usual brash and unrepentant manner, Ichigo had broken through all of her walls without even really trying. And…she had fallen, fallen hard for the orange-haired teen who had fought so hard to save her life. She’d realized when Byakuya and Renji had arrived to take her back to Soul Society to face her execution, how much she cared for the substitute shinigami who had taken her powers. But it wasn’t until he’d appeared, blocking the final blast of the Soukyoku and grinning that smug grin of his that she’d realized how deeply that caring ran. After it was over, she’d tried to push it aside, tried to ignore it. He was human, she was shinigami. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, wasn’t supposed to happen like that. But the more she’d tried to ignore it, the more she’d missed him. Even the few days that she spent in Seireitei without him had seemed like an eternity, and before she had even realized what she was doing, she had found her way back to Karakura. Back to him. And since then, she’d been at his side. Even her brother had began to understand her feelings, though she’d never voiced them to him. But the backhanded permission he’d given her to join the group going to Hueco Mundo had been enough to show that he understood, that he accepted her need to be near the orange-haired man who had come to mean so much to her. And since coming back from their daring rescue, Inoue and the others safe and together again, she’d stayed. Stayed here, with them. With Ichigo. Things had settled back into their normal flow, and their relationship had returned to it’s usual bickering closeness smattered with occasional meaningful moments. And as much as she hated admitting it, it was becoming harder and harder to be satisfied with that. Harder to ignore the way she always wanted to reach for his hand when they walked next to each other, the way she always had to mentally remind herself not to scoot closer and lay her head on his shoulder when they watched the stars from the roof. Harder to hide the way her cheeks would pink whenever he glanced her way, or the way her breath would catch in her throat at one of his rare smiles.
Real smooth, Rukia. Falling for someone who doesn’t even think of you that way. Hell, he’d probably rather go with anyone other then you. But…are you really surprised? Afterall, he rescued you out of obligation. Because he owed you. Did you really think it was out of love?
With a sigh, she flipped through the last portion of the rack, pausing as her fingers fell on dark fabric. Pulling the dress out, she smiled to herself. This was perfect. And…maybe she could still have fun, even if the one person she’d have most wanted to be there was absent. A soft gasp from behind caught her attention and she glanced over her shoulder to see Inoue standing, hands over her mouth as she gazed at the dress.
“Kuchiki-san….that’s perfect.”
Nodding, Rukia pulled it out and checked the tag. And just her luck, it looked like it would actually fit her. Turning to the other girl, she flashed a smile.
“I think so too, Inoue. Did you find yourself something?”
With a grin and a nod, the taller girl held up a shopping bag. She’d already purchased hers, and the dress was wrapped and ready to be taken home. Nodding her head towards the shoe section, she smiled at Rukia.
“Yup, already paid for and everything. Once you get that, let’s go look at shoes and accessories and things, alright Kuchiki-san?”
With a nod, Rukia paid for her dress and headed off down the mall with Orihime. Afterall, there were still plenty of things to do.
Heaving a mental sigh, Ichigo tugged at the stiff white collar and scowled at his reflection in the mirror. Reminding himself again of the reasons WHY he was doing this, he ran a hand through perpetually-unruly orange locks. Not that it would do any good, afterall. Or that it really mattered all that much. The penguin-suit, as he persisted in calling it, was only slightly less galling then having to call Inoue and tell her, through gritted teeth, that he had changed his mind and he would be delighted to accompany her and the others to this vein of teenage torment called a prom. Actually, Ichigo was just glad that his other friends had decided to go as a group. Not only did it make things easier cost-wise, but it meant there would be plenty of people talking, which meant that he wouldn't be expected to carry on much conversation. Turning slightly, he rolled his eyes and wondered for yet the third time why his sisters had insisted he get the jacket with the stupid tails on it. Not like it made any difference to the way it fit, but the extra material just seemed pointless. But noooooo, Yuzu and Karin, once they'd found out he was actually going to wear a tuxedo, had been adament. Apparently, tails on a tux, or the lack of tails thereof, was a very important thing. Ichigo didn't know, and frankly he didn't really give a damn, but then Yuzu had started to pout and Karin had threatened to tell their father he'd made Yuzu cry, and the least annoying thing to do had been to just scowl and agree to the damned tails. Even if it was only to get them to shut up. But he'd stubbornly asserted that no matter WHAT they did, he wasn't going to wear that stupid tie. OR the pansy-ass flower thing on his lapel. And thankfully, it had seemed as though Yuzu and Karin had recognized their victory and decided to settle for what they could get. Still, that didn't stop the giggling he could hear from the other side of the door. With a sigh and a frown, he strode over and yanked the slab of wood aside, glaring down at the two little sisters who were crouched in front of the keyhole.
"What the hell, you little perverts trying to peek at me or somethin? Go fuckin bother someone else!"
Yuzu frowned, while Karin muffled her laughter. Though neither one seemed very apologetic. In fact, Karin stepped back a pace or two and grinned even wider.
"Ichi-nii, say cheese!"
Before he could do anything, she'd pulled out a camera and snapped a quick picture of him. Grabbing Yuzu's hand, the two of them took off down the hall into their room, Karin slamming the door behind them. With a curse and a snarl, he was after them, swearing yet again as he heard the latch click just as his hand settled on the knob. Growling, he pounded on the door.
"When I get ahold of you two, you're dead and the camera's mine."
His angry diatribe was cut off by the voice of Kurosaki Isshin as his father announced quite loudly that Ichigo's "dates" were here. Snarling that he didn't have "dates", he nonetheless grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his back pocket as he headed down the hall, ignoring his father's posturing and monologues about "growing up" and other such things. Nodding at Keigo, Chad, and the other guys at the door, he followed them out to the long stretch of gleaming black metal parked on the street. Sliding into the spacious interior, he glanced around at the limo with a low whistle.
"Someone rob a fuckin bank or somethin? This thing must cost a ton."
Mizuiro laughed and shook his head.
"No, one of my girlfriends paid for it. Said since she couldn't come with me because of her own business, that she'd make sure I had a fun time."
Ichigo rolled his eyes at his young-looking friend. Afterall, Mizuiro's exploits where women were concerned hadn't ever really surprised him. Keigo, on the other hand, looked positively crushed at the prospect. With a sigh and another tug at his collar, the orange-haired shinigami glanced around, finally coming to the realization that the limo lacked anything in the way of what could be termed female occupants.
"Ne, Keigo. Where's the girls? Inoue, Tatsuki, Rukia? If this is just gonna be guys, I'm out of here."
His friend laughed and shook his head. Trust Ichigo to look for any way to get out of going to the prom.
"No, they're coming. They all got ready over at Inoue-san's house so we're on our way to pick them up. Why? Are you and Kuchiki-san still fighting? You know that's not good for a relationship, Ichigo. You should apologize."
The scowl returned, even deeper then before.
"Shut the fuck up, Keigo. It's not any of your business. Quit acting like she's my damn girlfriend or something. Besides, since when are you the reigning expert on relationships anyway?"
God, if it wasn't bad enough he had Tatsuki and his sisters, and his own conscience on his case, now Keigo too? And it didn't help matters that he wanted to apologize. He just...didn't know how to go about doing it. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd take his agreement to GO to this stupid thing as an apology. That would be simple, easy, and uncomplicated. It also would mean he wouldn't have to talk about feelings. Things could stay the way they were.
But...is that really what you want? For things to keep going like this?
Well no, he supposed he really didn't. At least...he didn't think he did. Did he? Honestly, he wasn't sure. He knew his own feelings, knew what they meant, but...did he know HER feelings? No, he didn't. He'd never asked, never wanted to ask. No, that wasn't right. In reality, he'd never had the courage to ask. Asking meant getting an answer. And that answer wouldn't necessarily be the one he wanted.
Isn't that what you're really afraid of, Ichigo? The answer you might get? Afraid that it won't be the one you want it to be, the one you need it to be? Afraid that she'll reject you and your feelings?
And when it came right down to the wire that WAS the seed of it. And as much as the idea soured on his mind like milk left out in the sun, it was true. He was afraid. He, Kurosaki Ichigo, who had singlehandedly fought his way through the entirety of Soul Society, who had faced down shinigami and Arrancar, who had stared death in the eyes more times then he could count, was abjectly and utterly terrified at placing his heart into the small pale hands of the very girl he had risked so much for. Petrified at the possibility of seeing those same hands pull away, letting his heart crash to the ground in a million tiny shards as she shook her head and told him "I'm sorry, Ichigo". Because as much as he wanted it, as much as he yearned to do nothing but stare into those amethyst eyes all day, the idea of how much power the tiny shinigami who owned them held over him was a sobering thought.
He was jolted out of his musings by the slowing of the limo, and Keigo's elbow rammed into his side. With a snarl and a curse, he sent his own elbow on an impact-course with the side of Keigo's head before opening the door on his side and stepping out. Stretching, he yawned and scratched the back of his head. He knew where they were, of course. Inoue's apartment building. Waiting for the others, amber-brown eyes stared up at the lit window. Though sounds were muffled, of course, it didn't disguise the raised voices or the laughter that filtered through. Despite his mood, he couldn't help but smile slightly. At least it sounded like everyone was having fun. Keigo took the initiative, practically dancing up to the door and knocking loudly. Stepping back with a wide grin, he elbowed Ichigo in the ribs again, seemingly oblivious to the nasty scowl the taller teen was directing at him. Ichigo, for his part, simply elected to stand by the limo and look bored. Afterall, what was there to get so excited about? It was just the girls, in some sort of fancy crap. Nothing special, right?
After what seemed, to him at least, to be an irritatingly long span of time but was in actuality closer to twenty minutes, Ichigo had finally decided that girls were irritating. Well, moreso then he’d already decided a long time ago. Especially when they had some sort of fancy thing to get ready for. Glancing at his watch, lines in his brow deepening, he scowled as the second hand ticked by. Did girls REALLY need this much time to just get from the upstairs to the door?! What the hell did they DO on the way down, stop and take a nap? Hearing the familiar voices again as the group finally made it’s way outside, he opened his mouth to voice his annoyance at the wait and promptly froze. Brown eyes widened impossibly, mouth going dry as there mysteriously seemed to be significantly less air in the atmosphere then there had been before. Not to mention that the temperature seemed to have shot up a degree or two. A small part of his mind spoke up that Tatsuki and Inoue looked quite nice. Tatsuki in her crimson-red dress with the strapless neckline that was shaped like flames and the long skirt that hugged her slim figure, and Inoue a vision in pale blue that matched the clips in her hair, long full skirt and delicate beading reminiscent of some sort of fairytale princess. But it wasn’t his childhood friend, or the girl who always smiled at him who had caught his attention. No, all of it was focused on the short, raven-haired goddess who walked behind them. Nevermind that he’d never actually applied that term to Rukia before. It fit now.
The dress was beautiful, but in Ichigo’s eyes, it only served to make her look more perfect by comparison. Her hair was done up in some sort of twist, with clear crystals and silver pins in it, a few locks falling down to frame her pale face and amethyst eyes and leaving slender neck and shoulders bare save for the thin straps of the dress. Someone, Inoue probably, had done her makeup, and the subtle effect only served to accentuate already delicate features and draw attention to those eyes he now decided he would most-willingly drown himself in. And the dress… at first glance, it seemed that the spaghetti-strapped gown was black, but her every movement seemed to make the fabric shift, allowing the deep indigo underlayer to show through the black sheer fabric that made up the beaded top layer of the dress. It clung to her torso before flowing out like a waterfall around her, the skirt seeming to move with it’s own motion as she walked. Tiny sparkling crystals picked themselves out in minute patterns over the dress, making it look as though she had taken the night sky itself and draped it around herself. Though in Ichigo’s opinion, the night sky was rather a piss-poor rival for Rukia. To his credit, however, it only took a few seconds of open gawking before he realized his mouth was hanging open and he looked for all the world like a stranded fish. Glancing quickly to either side, he was at least marginally pleased to find out that the other guys seemed to have rather similar looks on their face. Especially Ishida, who had somehow been convinced to NOT wear his Quincy outfit to prom. Though he had insisted on a white tux, black being too much of a shinigami colour for his liking.
At first sight of Ichigo’s impression of a beached flounder, Rukia had to suppress a giggle. Well, it seemed that regardless of what he’d said earlier, he at least noticed when she dressed up. She started to smile, to greet him, then stopped as her mind shot back to what Tatsuki had said earlier that evening.
“You mean the dumbass still hasn’t apologized?! I can’t believe him. Look, Kuchiki, I can’t tell you what to do, but you shouldn’t let him off so easily. Otherwise he’ll just walk all over you.”
Orihime looked slightly confused for a moment, shaking her head as she fussed with Tatsuki’s earrings.
“But Tatsuki-chan, he did agree to come along with us. Maybe that’s his way of apologizing.”
The brunette scoffed, shaking her head. No. No way. After she’d had to get dragged into this, there was no way the fucker was getting off THAT easily. Especially not with some half-assed and feeble apology attempt like that. With a sigh, she turned to Rukia.
“OK, you can forgive him if you want, but personally I don’t think you should. I mean, think about it. You’ve been avoiding him all week, and has he even bothered to TALK to you? If he wants to apologize, make him work for it. He’s too stubborn, you know. You should just keep being pissed at him until he gets over his fucking pride and apologizes for being such a dick.”
And…she had to admit that Tatsuki was right, to a degree. If he really felt sorry, then why hadn’t he made any attempt to at least TRY and put things right? So maybe there was merit in what the other girl had suggested. So with a raise of her chin and a charming smile, she simply walked right past him to slip into the limo and settle herself between Ishida and Chad.
Hmph, see how you like THAT, Ichigo.
It took a moment for Ichigo’s mind to catch up. Had she just…totally ignored him? Shaking his head slightly, he sighed inwardly and simply got into the limo. Great. So she WAS still mad at him. This night was shaping up to be just perfect…
Scowling in his usual manner, Ichigo’s lanky form was content to menace the table in the back corner. Watching as the others, and most especially Rukia, spun around and moved on the dance floor did nothing really to make his mood any better. And it was even worse considering how things had been between him and Rukia. Getting out of the car, he’d tried to do something nice and hold the door for her. And what had he gotten for his troubles? That simpering fake smile and a “Why thank you for holding the door, Kurosaki-kun.” And that had stung, much more then he’d wanted to admit.
Kurosaki-kun? Since when did she call me that? It…was always just Ichigo with her.
Staring out at the dance floor, he watched her as she laughed and twirled, dancing with Ishida. There was no denying that she was beautiful like that. Spinning in time with the music, silvery laughter wafting up over the sounds that pounded out of the speakers at the front of the room. He scowled as Keigo cut in, easily liberating the petite girl from the Quincy and handing the other man Inoue. And as amusing as it might have been to laugh over the way Ishida suddenly seemed so flustered and shy, his attentions were on his shinigami. And despite the fact that his rational mind might argue otherwise, that she wasn’t his, didn’t belong to him in any way, he knew better. No matter what anyone else might say, she was his. His to protect, his to cherish, his to watch, his to fight with and bicker over. His to love.. And he’d be damned if he was going to let Keigo or Renji, or anyone else change that.
All right, Keigo. Get your hands off of MY Rukia.
Pushing himself up from the table, he stalked through the crowd. Grabbing her hand, he yanked her away from Keigo and pulled her over to a vacant spot on the floor. Taking her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her small waist, eyes not meeting hers. If Rukia had been expecting anything from him, it certainly hadn’t been for him to bodily haul her onto the dance floor like that. Glaring at him, she pushed against his larger form, trying to break away.
“Ichigo, what the hell?! Cut it out! What do you think you’re doing.”
With a sigh and a slight growl, he pulled her against him, tightening his grip on her waist. Did she have to be like this? He’d thought this whole thing out, well at least some of it. And then this song had come on, and he’d hoped…
“Rukia, just shut up and listen to the song, ok?”
Surprised at his words, she uncharacteristically shut her mouth and did just that, resting her head against his chest and listening to the words that filtered through the crowded room. What did a song have to do with anything, anyway? Oh well, it wasn’t as though half of everything Ichigo did made sense to her. And…truthfully she was enjoying being this close to him, being held like this. Even if it was only a dance, nothing more.
He relaxed as he felt her stop resisting and simply lean into his embrace. Good, at least she wasn’t going to hit him or something. Now, if only things would work out the way he’d planned. Well, maybe planned wasn’t the right word. Afterall, he hadn’t expected the song to start playing, hadn’t thought ahead about a way he could manage to apologize to her without having to rely on his own flawed ability at communicating his feelings. And the song…hopefully she’d get the message.
I’m not a perfect person.
There’s many things I wish I didn’t do.
But I continue learning.
I never meant to do those things to you.
And now I have to say before I go.
That I just want you to know…
I’ve found a reason for me.
To change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new.
And the reason is you…
She felt her cheeks flush as the first few lines of the song made their way to her ears. Was this…his way of trying to apologize? Of trying to make amends? It…didn’t seem like something Ichigo would do, and yet…given how much of a hard time he often had getting his feelings across, maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that the orange-haired young man might have actually come up with a good idea.
Staring up at the ceiling, he did his best to calm the rapid flutter of his heart. She was so close, so small in his arms. So…fragile, in a way. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed past the lump in his throat as he glanced down at her. He was almost afraid to see the look on her face. Would she understand? Would she hate him, clock him in the mouth? Or…would she accept his apology, as unconventional as it might be?
I’m sorry that I hurt you.
It’s something I must live with every day.
And all the pain I put you through.
I wish that I could take it all away.
And be the one who catches all your tears.
That’s why I need you to hear.
I found a reason for me..
To change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new.
And the reason is you…
The more he listened to the words playing in the background, the more he was realizing how true they rang for him. Because…she was his reason. His reason for fighting, his reason for trying so hard. The reason behind all his hard work, all his training and dedication. She was the light in his world, the sun in his sky, the one who had come crashing into his life at breakneck speed and turned it upside down. And…he was glad for that. Glad for the changes, glad for the chaos, glad for her. When had she become so important to him, such an integral part of his world that when she wasn’t around, nothing felt right, nothing worked right? He pulled back slightly to look down at her, brown eyes meeting violet as he mouthed the last part of the chorus in time with the song, offering up a silent plea to any gods that would listen that this wasn't a wrong choice.
Please, please understand…
And then…it wasn’t important anymore. It didn’t matter that he was afraid of rejection, or that she might punch him later for it. As the song’s refrain continued, he slowly pulled her hand up to his shoulder, resting the small fingers on his arm as his own hand slid carefully down her arm to her shoulder to settle at the nape of her neck. Tightening his hold on her waist, he gulped slightly before pulling her flush against him and leaning down to cover her lips with his own. He may not have known how to say it, how to express it, but he hoped that at least this might finally get his point across.
She almost cried, almost swooned when he looked at her like that, mouthing the meaningful words of the tune to her. Even if he didn’t’ realize that it seemed, for a moment, as though he was saying so much more then just an apology to her. And then, his hand had slid gently down to the back of her neck, and she’d found herself pulled into a kiss that took her breath away.
Ichi…go….
If there was one thing at the top of the list of things Kuchiki Rukia had always wanted to do but never thought she’d actually GET to do, being kissed by Kurosaki Ichigo in such a gentle and romantic way was definitely it. And though she could have chosen to expound on the moment in question, she instead simply leaned into the kiss, letting her hands slide around his torso to tighten as she kissed him back with as much feeling as she could feel him putting into the kiss. It didn’t matter if it was just a fluke, or if things would go back to the way they’d always been afterwards. Right here, right now, things were perfect.
His fingers bunched in the material at the small of her back, dragging her closer, tighter against him as he deepened the kiss in response. She was intoxicating, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of, and he couldn’t comprehend how on earth he had denied himself this for so long. Denied how much he wanted her, needed her. Long fingers threaded their way into her hair as he tilted her back gently into a dip, pouring all of the need and desire and love he felt into this one kiss. Because this had ceased simply being an apology when he’d realized how true the lyrics of the song were. And become so much else. When the need for air, finally overcame his desire to continue exploring the geography of Rukia’s mouth, he pulled back, gasping as he looked down at her. With a sigh, he pulled her up and tightened his grip on her, pressing her head against his chest and resting his chin on the top of her ebony head for a moment before swallowing hard and leaning down to nuzzle the side of her face. It was now or never. He’d done the hard part, and actually acted on his feelings. Now…he owed her the truth. A deep breath and he leaned in to whisper to her.
“Rukia…..I….”
Mentally steeling himself in case rejection was eminent, he brushed his lips against her ear before he continued in a whisper so soft he wasn’t sure if she’d hear him.
“I love you.”
And there it was. The second time Kuchiki Rukia could honestly say her heart stopped. Tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her head against his chest, holding on for dear life. He loved her. He really loved her. HER. Biting her lip, she pulled back to look up at him with tear-filled amethyst eyes. But despite the tears, there was nothing but love in her eyes.
“I..I love you too, Ichigo.”
And all it took were those few simple words. Within moments, his embrace had tightened around her and he was holding her like a drowning man holds a life preserver. She was here, and she was his, and she loved him as much as he loved her. Human, shinigami, vizard. It didn’t matter what they were, where they came from. All that mattered was now, and them. They were together, and happy. With a sigh, he rested his cheek against her hair, arms tangled around her as he simply relished the feeling of having her in his arms. From the edges of the dance floor, their friends simply watched with slightly smug looks as the last lines of the song rolled off the speakers.
I’m not a perfect person.
I never meant to do those things to you.
And so I have to say before I go…
That I just want you to know…
I found a reason for me.
To change who I used to be…
A reason to start over new…
And the reason is you…
I found a reason to show…
A side of me you didn’t know…
A reason for all that I do…
And the reason is you…
Those words rang so true, not just to those watching, but to the pair wrapped up in each other on the dance floor. She was his reason, the one who had changed him, found the parts of him that no one else could see and made the sunlight shine into them. The one who had taken all of his darkness and turned it into light and hope. She was the sunlight, she was the sky. In a word, she was Rukia. And that was reason enough for him.
Alright, so enjoy. I'll prolly be X-posting it to a couple different places so hopefully everyone will have fun w/it. Please let me know if you like it~
It's Bleach, IchiRuki, and it was originally supposed to be a short little songfic/drabble but it decided it wanted to be longer. So it is. Anyway, enjoy.
Reason Enough
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Pairing: IchiRuki
"Ichigo, look!"
A piece of brightly-coloured paper was immediately dangled in front of the orange-haired teen by a small hand. Well, maybe "dangled" wasn't a strong enough word. "Forcefully placed with lighting speed" came to mind as one eyebrow raised slightly as he read the writing on the sheet. It was a flier, the sort that clubs and the like tended to post all around the campus to promote whatever inane activity they were doing at the time. This one was nothing new. At least, not as far as he was concerned. Scowl deepening slightly, he frowned and sat up as he brushed the offending sheet of xerox paper out of his way to scowl at the black-haired girl holding it.
"Yeah, so what? That supposed to matter to me for some reason?"
Rukia frowned, pulling the paper back to study it.
"What's this "prom" thing that they're talking about? Some sort of club thing?"
Rolling his eyes, he laid back down on the bench. She'd just HAD to ask about it, hadn't she? Here he'd been, minding his own business during free period, and what had happened? The short, noisy shinigami had suddenly loomed over him and stuck, of all things, a prom flier in his face. And if Kurosaki Ichigo didn't want to participate in club activities, he certainly had no desire to dress up in a penguin suit and sit stiffly around pretending to be nice to people. Hell no. In fact, he'd rather have his teeth drilled. Or parade around school in Ishida's Quincy outfit. Or...any number of painful and torturous things. ANYTHING was preferable to a formal dance.
"Look, I ain't interested in these kinda stupid things. Go ask Inoue or Chad or something."
Handing the paper back to her, he cocked his head to the side as if to say "Now do you finally get it?". The petite shinigami frowned, shaking her head.
"But Ichigo, what IS it? It seems like a big deal, everyone's talking about it. And about reservations and something called a "limo", and is it some sort of big party or something?"
Glaring at her over his bento, he rolled his eyes again. Great, he wasn't going to get ANY lunch, now was he? Sitting up and swinging his legs off of the side of the bench, he ignored her until the sharp impact of one foot against his shoulder caused him to yelp and yank the appendage out of the way with a snarl at the girl.
"What the fuck did you just kick me for?!"
Violet eyes scowled back at him as the petite Kuchiki crossed her arms over her chest with a glare.
"You were ignoring me, you dumbass. Now tell me what the hell a "prom" is."
"Or what, you'll draw something for me? I don't think I deserve THAT sort of torture, but-"
His snide remarks were cut off by four small fingers. Chin, meet hand. With a dirty look at Rukia, he stood up and loomed over her. It was unfair, using his height to try and intimidate her, but he wasn't in the best of moods. And her kicking him hadn't helped. Not that the looming helped, either. In fact, all it earned him was a remark about how he ought to "quit being such an asshole", and a sharp kick in the shins. Growling, he clenched one fist by his side. Oh, but he wanted to hit her right now. And it galled him that not only could he NOT do so, but also that were he to take leave of his senses and actually carry OUT said thought, regardless of what she did later he would never forgive himself. Afterall, she WAS a girl. Sure, she was a hundred years or so older then he was, and she was violent and annoying and loud. But still a girl. And despite the fact that he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself, it didn't mean that Kurosaki Ichigo was going to make an exception to his "don't hit girls" rule.
"If I tell you, will you shut the hell up about it and quit being a bitch?"
Small features melted into a charming smile as she nodded. Of course. Afterall, it would mean she had gotten her way. Which was what she'd wanted in the first place.
"So, what's a prom?"
With a sigh, Ichigo ran a hand through unruly orange locks and sat back down. "It's a dance. Just a stupid, formal dance where a bunch of idiots dress up in stupid fancy clothes and eat fingerfoods and pretend they actually like each other. There, you satisfied?" He hoped she was. Hell, if he kept having to talk about it, she might try and make HIM go. And he'd already been down that road in the mental wonderland he called his brain. Oh no. Prom in itself was a no-go. Prom with a noisy and irritating and beautiful shinigami was even MORE of a no-go. Frown shifting slightly into one of puzzlement, he rolled the mental phrase over in his mind. Where did the "beautiful" come from, anyway? Maybe Kon was rubbing off on him. Shuddering at the idea, he felt his heart stop as those fateful and doom-laden words sounded like silvery chimes from beside him.
"Ichigo, go to this prom thing with me."
Not a request, not even really a plea. Not that he was surprised. No, when it came down to things between he and Rukia, it was never a request. Always an order. Afterall, the raven-haired girl was not one to sit idly by when she didn't get her way. But this time, he was NOT giving in. Shaking his head, he resumed eating his lunch.
"No."
Irritated look returning to her face, she planted hands on her hips and grabbed the top of his head, yanking his head up by his hair.
"Yes. It'll be fun, Ichigo. And I want to go."
And there it was. The one word that made him shudder. Fun. "Fun", he had found, seldom held true to the definition in the dictionary. In fact, in most cases, "fun" had translated to something along the lines of "everyone else has fun while Kurosaki Ichigo has to put up with them". Scowl deepening as he wrenched his head from her grasp, he stared at her for a moment. Crossing hands over his chest, he shook his head frantically.
"No, not a chance, absolutely not. I am NOT going! Now quit buggin’ me about it."
Stepping around her yet again, the lanky teen took advantage of the bell's tone to make a dash for the door, leaving Rukia behind him with the flier.
If Ichigo had thought that dealing with Rukia earlier had been a pain, he was finding that in reality it had only served to pave the way for the aggravation of the next few classes. Thankfully, the violet-eyed girl had found that Inoue and Keigo and some of the others seemed to be much more forthcoming with their information then he had been, so now she was bothering THEM instead of him. Taking the few moments between classes, he raised his head from the cradle of his arms to glance over at the noisy group in the corner. Rukia sat, looking entranced as Inoue and the other girls gestured and chattered like a pack of noisy squirrels.
What the hell's so goddamned interesting about a stupid dance, anyway?
With a deeper scowl, he resumed his prior task, which embarassingly enough, was that of keeping a certain pair of violet eyes out of his mind. Perhaps if he were more honest with himself, it wouldn't be so hard to admit that the shinigami didn't irritate him nearly as much as he often pretended. Or maybe it would make it easier to accept the fact that since she had shown up in his bedroom a year and a half ago, there had seldom been a day where she hadn't been on his mind. But, thinking about that also meant acknowledging it in the first place. And while he would argue until he was blue in the face that rescuing her from Soul Society and rescuing Inoue from Hueco Mundo had been completely different, he balked at being asked to try and explain the reasoning behind his assertions.
Why the hell does she get to me so damned much?
Eyes watching the movements and shifts of her eyes, he couldn't help but feel captivated by the deep violet that sparkled in them. Or notice the fact that her movements were, as always, graceful and delicate and poised. Even though he knew perfectly well that she hadn't been born nobility, the orange-haired shinigami would have thought otherwise had he taken the time to consider it. But...was that really what it was that always seemed to grab his attention? Really...what WAS it about Rukia that always seemed to stick in his mind? His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the impact of Asano Keigo and the others as they landed on him. Or his desk. Either way, the effect was the same and he was left threatening to punch Keigo if he did it again. Ichigo's classmate laughed, feigning a wounded expression before he started in on THE topic.
"So Ichigo, who are you gonna take to the prom?"
An elbow nudged him in the ribs as a suggestive look was tossed his way. Behind Keigo, Mizuiro snickered slightly, while Chad was his usual stoic self. Leaning over, Keigo’s face took on a sly grin.
"Bet you're asking Kuchiki-san, huh? You do spend a lot of time with her, you know..."
Crimson stained his cheeks for only a moment before knuckles were grinding their way into Keigo’s skull with a vengeance as he stubbornly and loudly proclaimed his hatred for anything dance-related.
“Would you fucking cut it OUT, Keigo! I already said I’m not going to some stupid fucking prom and I’m certainly not going to one with her!”
If he thought back over it later, he’d have realized how the words sounded. How they would obviously be taken by most anyone who heard them. How they might hurt. But it wasn’t later. It was now, and so with an angry and aggravated huff, he turned his attention back to his desk and away from the rest of the class. Not caring that his sudden outburst had served to stun most of them into silence. Not to mention failing to notice the way a certain pair of hands tightened momentarily on the edge of the desk before her manner relaxed and she resumed the light-hearted chatting with the other girls. Thus it was that Ichigo found himself rather surprised when the one waiting for him after school wasn’t his usual constant companion of a shinigami. Rather, it was the other noisy dark-haired girl in his life. Raising orange eyebrows in a confused manner, his casual “Yo” was cut off by Tatsuki’s fist hitting him in the jaw. He reeled backwards, scowling as he opened and closed said jaw with a frown at the girl.
“What the fuck was that for?! Rukia send you so you could hit me first or something?”
Tatsuki rolled her eyes angrily at him before planting a hand in the center of his chest and shoving him back against the wall as she glared at him.
“You are such an asshole, sometimes. I can’t believe you said something like that!”
She didn’t have to elaborate. The orange-haired shinigami knew exactly what his friend was talking about. Now whether he wanted to think about it or not, that was a different story. That being the case, he settled for a deeper scowl and a shrug.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Besides, I don’t think it’s any of your business what I say.”
Another glare. Oh, she wanted to punch him. Not to mention the irritating man seemed so damned determined to figuratively bash his head against the wall. Tatsuki honestly would have rather kicked him and left. Afterall, why was she even bothering to try and talk sense into the orange-haired idiot. With an inner sigh, she reminded herself that it wasn’t for her, or for him. It was for Orihime. It hadn’t been Tatsuki, but the sweet-natured walnut-haired girl who had noticed the flash of hurt in Kuchiki Rukia’s eyes at Ichigo’s words. Who had seen the minute tightening of the smaller girl’s grip on her desk before the mask had slid seamlessly into place and Rukia was her usual smiling self again. And it had been Orihime who had appealed to Tatsuki to try and talk to Ichigo while she tried to cheer up the black-haired girl who, to Tatsuki’s eyes, hadn’t needed any cheering up in the first place. She mentally chastised her best friend at the thought. Orihime was too nice for her own good at times. Afterall, Tatsuki knew very well how her closest friend felt about the lanky teen who was currently sulking against the wall. But leave it to the smiling girl with the flower-shaped clips in her hair to put her own feelings aside and try to help someone who wasn’t only a friend, but a rival for said boy’s attentions.
Orihime, you aren’t supposed to help the competition. It’s better for you if they’re not as close.
Despite that, Tatsuki knew better. Orihime wasn’t the sort of girl who would stand idly by while those she cared about were hurting. Even if it meant her own feelings were disregarded. And…Tatsuki admired her for that. It took a lot of strength to realize that, regardless of how much she might love Ichigo, the orange-haired boy’s eyes were always on Rukia. And that Rukia’s eyes were always on him. Even if the dumbass himself didn’t realize it. But, it seemed that trying to get the block-headed man to realize what a colossal mistake he had probably just made was not going to work. Which left the direct approach.
“You made her cry, you know.”
That stopped him. The scowl faded into confusion and…something else. Had he…really made her cry? Momentarily forgetting that Tatsuki was standing there, he replayed the last few hours in his head. He hadn’t seen her cry. And she’d certainly seemed happy and content. But then, Rukia always was good at hiding things. Even from him, at times. His inner musings were interrupted in a rather sudden and spectacular fashion by Tatsuki punching him in the shoulder. Obviously, he was doing something irritating again.
“Ichigo! Quit spacing out while I’m talking to you, you moron! You should apologize.”
The scowl returned and he shrugged, brushing off her arm to start walking off. Whether her words had actually made an impact or not, that didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. Besides, Rukia was tough. She wasn’t the sort to cry over something stupid like a prom. Would she? Ignoring Tatsuki’s angry yelling from behind him, he turned the corner and headed home.
Alright, so maybe Tatsuki had been right. At least…to some degree. He’d obviously fucked up on some level, and with the limited information he had, he could only assume it must have something to do with his refusal to go to that damned dance. On his back, rooftiles pressing into his shoulders, brown eyes stared up at the cloud-flecked sky as his mind turned over facts and opinions and…well, to be honest, it was turning over feelings more then anything. Not to mention, he had been reminded of how abjectly boring it was to not have the petite shinigami around him.
Rukia…did I really upset you that much?
It was a question he didn’t really have an answer for. Afterall, the object of his thoughts had made herself scarce over the last few days. He’d seen her at school, but she’d found some excuse to be away from the house every night, and when she was there, she was avoiding him. And as much as he hated to admit it, the fact that she was avoiding him bothered him. More then anything else, it grated against his nerves and beat against something inside him he didn’t want to admit to having. Feelings. Not that feelings in and of themselves were a bad thing. But…realizing that said feelings were fairly strong, and were directed towards a dark-haired girl who was currently in an apparent position of not speaking to him made it a bitter pill to swallow. Sighing, he folded his arms behind his head and resumed his mental banter with his inner monologue. He didn’t….really feel that way about her, did he? He wasn’t supposed to, that equated letting someone in, letting them get close. And…letting others close wasn’t something Kurosaki Ichigo had really planned to do. But then, when had Kuchiki Rukia ever listened to what he wanted to do.
With an irritated growl, he sat up and shook his head to try and derail the train of thought that seemed to be on constant circuit through his head. The train of thought that kept returning to one thing. Rukia. Her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she got the chance to learn something new about the human world. The way her hair would blow in the wind when she sat on the roof with him to watch the sunset. Her strength, the way she fought so hard and demanded respect and equal footing with him. The way her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed when she was yelling at him. The way he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that, and the way he wanted to utterly destroy everything that had ever hurt her or made her cry. Hell, he even enjoyed the fighting and bickering. Realizing quite suddenly that he was sitting on his roof with an idiotic grin on his face, Ichigo groaned and lay back down, one hand over his eyes. Oh hell. He’d just had to go and think about it, hadn’t he? And even though he couldn’t deny that it was true, admitting it to himself just complicated things.
Great, NOW what the hell am I supposed to do?
Logic might have dictated something along the lines of “apologize, then tell her how you feel”. But then, logic wasn’t always Ichigo’s strong point. And therefore, simply seeking out the subject in question and proceeding in a manner of “I’m sorry I was an ass, Rukia. Oh and by the way, I love you” wasn’t a viable option in his mind. Not…because it wasn’t how he felt. Now that he’d managed to admit it to himself, it seemed nauseatingly easy to see that of course he loved her, he’d loved her for quite some time. But…he had no way of knowing how she felt. Well, other then the fact that right now he was apparently the last person the violet-eyed girl wanted to see. Running a hand through unruly hair, he let Tatsuki’s words filter back into his mind.
Apologize, huh? But…how can I do that if she won’t even stay around me long enough to SAY anything?
Staring off the side of the house, he watched as the door slammed and the object of his affections went running out to the street corner to meet Inoue. With a smile and a flutter of words, the two of them immediately began talking animatedly. Probably about that prom thing. Sighing to himself, Ichigo let brown eyes study the small form that had so captured him. Black hair in it’s usual style, slight figure concealed by the lines of the dress she wore. It was a pretty dress, the back of his mind noted. Suited Rukia very nicely, in fact. He was about to toss a sarcastic comment back to that portion of his mind when the shinigami turned, as though sensing his presence, and violet eyes met his brown ones. He froze, tumbling into those amethyst depths like always, but stopped at the expression in them. It was almost…sad, in a way. Following Rukia’s line of sight, Inoue also looked up at him, gray eyes mirroring confusion and then…sympathy? Understanding? There wasn’t really time to mull over it as the long-haired girl turned to her shorter companion with a smile and a nod and dragged Rukia off down the street with a laugh. Ichigo simply sat, slightly dumbfounded expression on his face. Had…he made that sort of expression appear on Rukia’s face? Well, that cemented it in his mind. Whatever he did, he needed to do something. The question now was what?
“Kuchiki-san, you should get this one, it would be perfect on you!”
Glancing up to where the bright-haired girl was holding out a dress on a rack, Rukia smiled slightly and fingered the material. The dress was certainly pretty, and a nice shade of blue, but it just didn’t seem to spark her interests that much. Nodding, she let the soft fabric slip from her hands to turn back to the rack, halfheartedly browsing through the large selection the store offered.
“I don’t know, Inoue. There just isn’t one that…feels right, you know? Maybe I just shouldn’t go.”
Eyes widening, Orihime grabbed Rukia’s hand and shook her head, long hair flying about her face. No, that wouldn’t do. She had brought Rukia here to try and cheer her up, to convince the shorter girl to come with them all to the event. And she wasn’t going to give up, even if Ichigo was being difficult.
“Kuchiki-san, don’t say that. It won’t be the same if you don’t go along, besides you were so excited about it on Tuesday. Don’t you want to see what it’s like? Come on, I’m sure there’s a dress here that’s just perfect for you. I’ll help you look.”
Sighing slightly to herself, Rukia shook her head with a smile. She had to give the girl credit. As odd as it felt to be shopping with Inoue, it was…nice. She’d never really had that many friends at all in Soul Society, least of all any female friends she could do such mundane things with as shopping. After all, growing up in Rukongai hadn’t been about simple pleasures. It had been about surviving. Making it through the night and into the next day. A hard life, with little time left for any sort of leisure activities. And even after entering the Academy, things hadn’t changed. She was a commoner, a native of Rukongai. Beneath the notice of most of the students in the class, and hardly worthy of being looked down upon. Her adoption into the Kuchiki family had only served to tip the scales in the other direction. Now, rather then those around her feeling too good to associate with her, they had changed their standpoint and considered her too good for them. Or at least, considered that her mindset had changed thusly. It was really only since spending so much time in the human world, meeting Inoue and Ichigo and the others, that she’d really had real friends. And it felt…good to have them. It was normal, and familiar, and somehow mundane in a way that wasn’t irritating or tiresome. It was a nice sort of mundane.
“Alright, Inoue. I’ll go, I’ll go. But I still don’t think there’s a dress that’ll look good on me.”
Well, at least that part was true. Pawing through the racks of dresses again, Rukia cursed her slight figure and petite stature. As much as the other girls at school might have cooed and fawned over how slim she was, how tiny and cute and adorable and all sorts of other words they seemed to think belonged to her, it didn’t change the fact that being so small made it nearly impossible to find anything in her size that didn’t come from the children’s department. In fact, the only thing that being so short was really good for was fitting into Ichigo’s closet. Ichigo… That simple thought was enough to bring her mind full circle to return to the issue it had been prodding for the last few days. Despite the fact that it wasn’t really out of character for him, his words had stung. Far more then she’d wanted to admit, both to herself and to anyone else. Thus it had been a complete and total surprise when Inoue had approached her later to ask if she was alright.
I must be losing my touch, or something.
That was, of course, the only reasoning she could come up with for why the walnut-haired girl had been able to notice her reaction to his statement. Afterall, she’d spent years hiding her feelings, perfecting those walls and barriers and defenses that kept people only a certain distance from her.
But…he broke them down, you know. Without you even realizing it, he broke right through all your defenses and took your heart. You knew it then, and you know it now.
And as much as she might have liked to silence the voice in the back of her mind, she knew it spoke truth. In his usual brash and unrepentant manner, Ichigo had broken through all of her walls without even really trying. And…she had fallen, fallen hard for the orange-haired teen who had fought so hard to save her life. She’d realized when Byakuya and Renji had arrived to take her back to Soul Society to face her execution, how much she cared for the substitute shinigami who had taken her powers. But it wasn’t until he’d appeared, blocking the final blast of the Soukyoku and grinning that smug grin of his that she’d realized how deeply that caring ran. After it was over, she’d tried to push it aside, tried to ignore it. He was human, she was shinigami. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, wasn’t supposed to happen like that. But the more she’d tried to ignore it, the more she’d missed him. Even the few days that she spent in Seireitei without him had seemed like an eternity, and before she had even realized what she was doing, she had found her way back to Karakura. Back to him. And since then, she’d been at his side. Even her brother had began to understand her feelings, though she’d never voiced them to him. But the backhanded permission he’d given her to join the group going to Hueco Mundo had been enough to show that he understood, that he accepted her need to be near the orange-haired man who had come to mean so much to her. And since coming back from their daring rescue, Inoue and the others safe and together again, she’d stayed. Stayed here, with them. With Ichigo. Things had settled back into their normal flow, and their relationship had returned to it’s usual bickering closeness smattered with occasional meaningful moments. And as much as she hated admitting it, it was becoming harder and harder to be satisfied with that. Harder to ignore the way she always wanted to reach for his hand when they walked next to each other, the way she always had to mentally remind herself not to scoot closer and lay her head on his shoulder when they watched the stars from the roof. Harder to hide the way her cheeks would pink whenever he glanced her way, or the way her breath would catch in her throat at one of his rare smiles.
Real smooth, Rukia. Falling for someone who doesn’t even think of you that way. Hell, he’d probably rather go with anyone other then you. But…are you really surprised? Afterall, he rescued you out of obligation. Because he owed you. Did you really think it was out of love?
With a sigh, she flipped through the last portion of the rack, pausing as her fingers fell on dark fabric. Pulling the dress out, she smiled to herself. This was perfect. And…maybe she could still have fun, even if the one person she’d have most wanted to be there was absent. A soft gasp from behind caught her attention and she glanced over her shoulder to see Inoue standing, hands over her mouth as she gazed at the dress.
“Kuchiki-san….that’s perfect.”
Nodding, Rukia pulled it out and checked the tag. And just her luck, it looked like it would actually fit her. Turning to the other girl, she flashed a smile.
“I think so too, Inoue. Did you find yourself something?”
With a grin and a nod, the taller girl held up a shopping bag. She’d already purchased hers, and the dress was wrapped and ready to be taken home. Nodding her head towards the shoe section, she smiled at Rukia.
“Yup, already paid for and everything. Once you get that, let’s go look at shoes and accessories and things, alright Kuchiki-san?”
With a nod, Rukia paid for her dress and headed off down the mall with Orihime. Afterall, there were still plenty of things to do.
Heaving a mental sigh, Ichigo tugged at the stiff white collar and scowled at his reflection in the mirror. Reminding himself again of the reasons WHY he was doing this, he ran a hand through perpetually-unruly orange locks. Not that it would do any good, afterall. Or that it really mattered all that much. The penguin-suit, as he persisted in calling it, was only slightly less galling then having to call Inoue and tell her, through gritted teeth, that he had changed his mind and he would be delighted to accompany her and the others to this vein of teenage torment called a prom. Actually, Ichigo was just glad that his other friends had decided to go as a group. Not only did it make things easier cost-wise, but it meant there would be plenty of people talking, which meant that he wouldn't be expected to carry on much conversation. Turning slightly, he rolled his eyes and wondered for yet the third time why his sisters had insisted he get the jacket with the stupid tails on it. Not like it made any difference to the way it fit, but the extra material just seemed pointless. But noooooo, Yuzu and Karin, once they'd found out he was actually going to wear a tuxedo, had been adament. Apparently, tails on a tux, or the lack of tails thereof, was a very important thing. Ichigo didn't know, and frankly he didn't really give a damn, but then Yuzu had started to pout and Karin had threatened to tell their father he'd made Yuzu cry, and the least annoying thing to do had been to just scowl and agree to the damned tails. Even if it was only to get them to shut up. But he'd stubbornly asserted that no matter WHAT they did, he wasn't going to wear that stupid tie. OR the pansy-ass flower thing on his lapel. And thankfully, it had seemed as though Yuzu and Karin had recognized their victory and decided to settle for what they could get. Still, that didn't stop the giggling he could hear from the other side of the door. With a sigh and a frown, he strode over and yanked the slab of wood aside, glaring down at the two little sisters who were crouched in front of the keyhole.
"What the hell, you little perverts trying to peek at me or somethin? Go fuckin bother someone else!"
Yuzu frowned, while Karin muffled her laughter. Though neither one seemed very apologetic. In fact, Karin stepped back a pace or two and grinned even wider.
"Ichi-nii, say cheese!"
Before he could do anything, she'd pulled out a camera and snapped a quick picture of him. Grabbing Yuzu's hand, the two of them took off down the hall into their room, Karin slamming the door behind them. With a curse and a snarl, he was after them, swearing yet again as he heard the latch click just as his hand settled on the knob. Growling, he pounded on the door.
"When I get ahold of you two, you're dead and the camera's mine."
His angry diatribe was cut off by the voice of Kurosaki Isshin as his father announced quite loudly that Ichigo's "dates" were here. Snarling that he didn't have "dates", he nonetheless grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his back pocket as he headed down the hall, ignoring his father's posturing and monologues about "growing up" and other such things. Nodding at Keigo, Chad, and the other guys at the door, he followed them out to the long stretch of gleaming black metal parked on the street. Sliding into the spacious interior, he glanced around at the limo with a low whistle.
"Someone rob a fuckin bank or somethin? This thing must cost a ton."
Mizuiro laughed and shook his head.
"No, one of my girlfriends paid for it. Said since she couldn't come with me because of her own business, that she'd make sure I had a fun time."
Ichigo rolled his eyes at his young-looking friend. Afterall, Mizuiro's exploits where women were concerned hadn't ever really surprised him. Keigo, on the other hand, looked positively crushed at the prospect. With a sigh and another tug at his collar, the orange-haired shinigami glanced around, finally coming to the realization that the limo lacked anything in the way of what could be termed female occupants.
"Ne, Keigo. Where's the girls? Inoue, Tatsuki, Rukia? If this is just gonna be guys, I'm out of here."
His friend laughed and shook his head. Trust Ichigo to look for any way to get out of going to the prom.
"No, they're coming. They all got ready over at Inoue-san's house so we're on our way to pick them up. Why? Are you and Kuchiki-san still fighting? You know that's not good for a relationship, Ichigo. You should apologize."
The scowl returned, even deeper then before.
"Shut the fuck up, Keigo. It's not any of your business. Quit acting like she's my damn girlfriend or something. Besides, since when are you the reigning expert on relationships anyway?"
God, if it wasn't bad enough he had Tatsuki and his sisters, and his own conscience on his case, now Keigo too? And it didn't help matters that he wanted to apologize. He just...didn't know how to go about doing it. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd take his agreement to GO to this stupid thing as an apology. That would be simple, easy, and uncomplicated. It also would mean he wouldn't have to talk about feelings. Things could stay the way they were.
But...is that really what you want? For things to keep going like this?
Well no, he supposed he really didn't. At least...he didn't think he did. Did he? Honestly, he wasn't sure. He knew his own feelings, knew what they meant, but...did he know HER feelings? No, he didn't. He'd never asked, never wanted to ask. No, that wasn't right. In reality, he'd never had the courage to ask. Asking meant getting an answer. And that answer wouldn't necessarily be the one he wanted.
Isn't that what you're really afraid of, Ichigo? The answer you might get? Afraid that it won't be the one you want it to be, the one you need it to be? Afraid that she'll reject you and your feelings?
And when it came right down to the wire that WAS the seed of it. And as much as the idea soured on his mind like milk left out in the sun, it was true. He was afraid. He, Kurosaki Ichigo, who had singlehandedly fought his way through the entirety of Soul Society, who had faced down shinigami and Arrancar, who had stared death in the eyes more times then he could count, was abjectly and utterly terrified at placing his heart into the small pale hands of the very girl he had risked so much for. Petrified at the possibility of seeing those same hands pull away, letting his heart crash to the ground in a million tiny shards as she shook her head and told him "I'm sorry, Ichigo". Because as much as he wanted it, as much as he yearned to do nothing but stare into those amethyst eyes all day, the idea of how much power the tiny shinigami who owned them held over him was a sobering thought.
He was jolted out of his musings by the slowing of the limo, and Keigo's elbow rammed into his side. With a snarl and a curse, he sent his own elbow on an impact-course with the side of Keigo's head before opening the door on his side and stepping out. Stretching, he yawned and scratched the back of his head. He knew where they were, of course. Inoue's apartment building. Waiting for the others, amber-brown eyes stared up at the lit window. Though sounds were muffled, of course, it didn't disguise the raised voices or the laughter that filtered through. Despite his mood, he couldn't help but smile slightly. At least it sounded like everyone was having fun. Keigo took the initiative, practically dancing up to the door and knocking loudly. Stepping back with a wide grin, he elbowed Ichigo in the ribs again, seemingly oblivious to the nasty scowl the taller teen was directing at him. Ichigo, for his part, simply elected to stand by the limo and look bored. Afterall, what was there to get so excited about? It was just the girls, in some sort of fancy crap. Nothing special, right?
After what seemed, to him at least, to be an irritatingly long span of time but was in actuality closer to twenty minutes, Ichigo had finally decided that girls were irritating. Well, moreso then he’d already decided a long time ago. Especially when they had some sort of fancy thing to get ready for. Glancing at his watch, lines in his brow deepening, he scowled as the second hand ticked by. Did girls REALLY need this much time to just get from the upstairs to the door?! What the hell did they DO on the way down, stop and take a nap? Hearing the familiar voices again as the group finally made it’s way outside, he opened his mouth to voice his annoyance at the wait and promptly froze. Brown eyes widened impossibly, mouth going dry as there mysteriously seemed to be significantly less air in the atmosphere then there had been before. Not to mention that the temperature seemed to have shot up a degree or two. A small part of his mind spoke up that Tatsuki and Inoue looked quite nice. Tatsuki in her crimson-red dress with the strapless neckline that was shaped like flames and the long skirt that hugged her slim figure, and Inoue a vision in pale blue that matched the clips in her hair, long full skirt and delicate beading reminiscent of some sort of fairytale princess. But it wasn’t his childhood friend, or the girl who always smiled at him who had caught his attention. No, all of it was focused on the short, raven-haired goddess who walked behind them. Nevermind that he’d never actually applied that term to Rukia before. It fit now.
The dress was beautiful, but in Ichigo’s eyes, it only served to make her look more perfect by comparison. Her hair was done up in some sort of twist, with clear crystals and silver pins in it, a few locks falling down to frame her pale face and amethyst eyes and leaving slender neck and shoulders bare save for the thin straps of the dress. Someone, Inoue probably, had done her makeup, and the subtle effect only served to accentuate already delicate features and draw attention to those eyes he now decided he would most-willingly drown himself in. And the dress… at first glance, it seemed that the spaghetti-strapped gown was black, but her every movement seemed to make the fabric shift, allowing the deep indigo underlayer to show through the black sheer fabric that made up the beaded top layer of the dress. It clung to her torso before flowing out like a waterfall around her, the skirt seeming to move with it’s own motion as she walked. Tiny sparkling crystals picked themselves out in minute patterns over the dress, making it look as though she had taken the night sky itself and draped it around herself. Though in Ichigo’s opinion, the night sky was rather a piss-poor rival for Rukia. To his credit, however, it only took a few seconds of open gawking before he realized his mouth was hanging open and he looked for all the world like a stranded fish. Glancing quickly to either side, he was at least marginally pleased to find out that the other guys seemed to have rather similar looks on their face. Especially Ishida, who had somehow been convinced to NOT wear his Quincy outfit to prom. Though he had insisted on a white tux, black being too much of a shinigami colour for his liking.
At first sight of Ichigo’s impression of a beached flounder, Rukia had to suppress a giggle. Well, it seemed that regardless of what he’d said earlier, he at least noticed when she dressed up. She started to smile, to greet him, then stopped as her mind shot back to what Tatsuki had said earlier that evening.
“You mean the dumbass still hasn’t apologized?! I can’t believe him. Look, Kuchiki, I can’t tell you what to do, but you shouldn’t let him off so easily. Otherwise he’ll just walk all over you.”
Orihime looked slightly confused for a moment, shaking her head as she fussed with Tatsuki’s earrings.
“But Tatsuki-chan, he did agree to come along with us. Maybe that’s his way of apologizing.”
The brunette scoffed, shaking her head. No. No way. After she’d had to get dragged into this, there was no way the fucker was getting off THAT easily. Especially not with some half-assed and feeble apology attempt like that. With a sigh, she turned to Rukia.
“OK, you can forgive him if you want, but personally I don’t think you should. I mean, think about it. You’ve been avoiding him all week, and has he even bothered to TALK to you? If he wants to apologize, make him work for it. He’s too stubborn, you know. You should just keep being pissed at him until he gets over his fucking pride and apologizes for being such a dick.”
And…she had to admit that Tatsuki was right, to a degree. If he really felt sorry, then why hadn’t he made any attempt to at least TRY and put things right? So maybe there was merit in what the other girl had suggested. So with a raise of her chin and a charming smile, she simply walked right past him to slip into the limo and settle herself between Ishida and Chad.
Hmph, see how you like THAT, Ichigo.
It took a moment for Ichigo’s mind to catch up. Had she just…totally ignored him? Shaking his head slightly, he sighed inwardly and simply got into the limo. Great. So she WAS still mad at him. This night was shaping up to be just perfect…
Scowling in his usual manner, Ichigo’s lanky form was content to menace the table in the back corner. Watching as the others, and most especially Rukia, spun around and moved on the dance floor did nothing really to make his mood any better. And it was even worse considering how things had been between him and Rukia. Getting out of the car, he’d tried to do something nice and hold the door for her. And what had he gotten for his troubles? That simpering fake smile and a “Why thank you for holding the door, Kurosaki-kun.” And that had stung, much more then he’d wanted to admit.
Kurosaki-kun? Since when did she call me that? It…was always just Ichigo with her.
Staring out at the dance floor, he watched her as she laughed and twirled, dancing with Ishida. There was no denying that she was beautiful like that. Spinning in time with the music, silvery laughter wafting up over the sounds that pounded out of the speakers at the front of the room. He scowled as Keigo cut in, easily liberating the petite girl from the Quincy and handing the other man Inoue. And as amusing as it might have been to laugh over the way Ishida suddenly seemed so flustered and shy, his attentions were on his shinigami. And despite the fact that his rational mind might argue otherwise, that she wasn’t his, didn’t belong to him in any way, he knew better. No matter what anyone else might say, she was his. His to protect, his to cherish, his to watch, his to fight with and bicker over. His to love.. And he’d be damned if he was going to let Keigo or Renji, or anyone else change that.
All right, Keigo. Get your hands off of MY Rukia.
Pushing himself up from the table, he stalked through the crowd. Grabbing her hand, he yanked her away from Keigo and pulled her over to a vacant spot on the floor. Taking her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her small waist, eyes not meeting hers. If Rukia had been expecting anything from him, it certainly hadn’t been for him to bodily haul her onto the dance floor like that. Glaring at him, she pushed against his larger form, trying to break away.
“Ichigo, what the hell?! Cut it out! What do you think you’re doing.”
With a sigh and a slight growl, he pulled her against him, tightening his grip on her waist. Did she have to be like this? He’d thought this whole thing out, well at least some of it. And then this song had come on, and he’d hoped…
“Rukia, just shut up and listen to the song, ok?”
Surprised at his words, she uncharacteristically shut her mouth and did just that, resting her head against his chest and listening to the words that filtered through the crowded room. What did a song have to do with anything, anyway? Oh well, it wasn’t as though half of everything Ichigo did made sense to her. And…truthfully she was enjoying being this close to him, being held like this. Even if it was only a dance, nothing more.
He relaxed as he felt her stop resisting and simply lean into his embrace. Good, at least she wasn’t going to hit him or something. Now, if only things would work out the way he’d planned. Well, maybe planned wasn’t the right word. Afterall, he hadn’t expected the song to start playing, hadn’t thought ahead about a way he could manage to apologize to her without having to rely on his own flawed ability at communicating his feelings. And the song…hopefully she’d get the message.
I’m not a perfect person.
There’s many things I wish I didn’t do.
But I continue learning.
I never meant to do those things to you.
And now I have to say before I go.
That I just want you to know…
I’ve found a reason for me.
To change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new.
And the reason is you…
She felt her cheeks flush as the first few lines of the song made their way to her ears. Was this…his way of trying to apologize? Of trying to make amends? It…didn’t seem like something Ichigo would do, and yet…given how much of a hard time he often had getting his feelings across, maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that the orange-haired young man might have actually come up with a good idea.
Staring up at the ceiling, he did his best to calm the rapid flutter of his heart. She was so close, so small in his arms. So…fragile, in a way. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed past the lump in his throat as he glanced down at her. He was almost afraid to see the look on her face. Would she understand? Would she hate him, clock him in the mouth? Or…would she accept his apology, as unconventional as it might be?
I’m sorry that I hurt you.
It’s something I must live with every day.
And all the pain I put you through.
I wish that I could take it all away.
And be the one who catches all your tears.
That’s why I need you to hear.
I found a reason for me..
To change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new.
And the reason is you…
The more he listened to the words playing in the background, the more he was realizing how true they rang for him. Because…she was his reason. His reason for fighting, his reason for trying so hard. The reason behind all his hard work, all his training and dedication. She was the light in his world, the sun in his sky, the one who had come crashing into his life at breakneck speed and turned it upside down. And…he was glad for that. Glad for the changes, glad for the chaos, glad for her. When had she become so important to him, such an integral part of his world that when she wasn’t around, nothing felt right, nothing worked right? He pulled back slightly to look down at her, brown eyes meeting violet as he mouthed the last part of the chorus in time with the song, offering up a silent plea to any gods that would listen that this wasn't a wrong choice.
Please, please understand…
And then…it wasn’t important anymore. It didn’t matter that he was afraid of rejection, or that she might punch him later for it. As the song’s refrain continued, he slowly pulled her hand up to his shoulder, resting the small fingers on his arm as his own hand slid carefully down her arm to her shoulder to settle at the nape of her neck. Tightening his hold on her waist, he gulped slightly before pulling her flush against him and leaning down to cover her lips with his own. He may not have known how to say it, how to express it, but he hoped that at least this might finally get his point across.
She almost cried, almost swooned when he looked at her like that, mouthing the meaningful words of the tune to her. Even if he didn’t’ realize that it seemed, for a moment, as though he was saying so much more then just an apology to her. And then, his hand had slid gently down to the back of her neck, and she’d found herself pulled into a kiss that took her breath away.
Ichi…go….
If there was one thing at the top of the list of things Kuchiki Rukia had always wanted to do but never thought she’d actually GET to do, being kissed by Kurosaki Ichigo in such a gentle and romantic way was definitely it. And though she could have chosen to expound on the moment in question, she instead simply leaned into the kiss, letting her hands slide around his torso to tighten as she kissed him back with as much feeling as she could feel him putting into the kiss. It didn’t matter if it was just a fluke, or if things would go back to the way they’d always been afterwards. Right here, right now, things were perfect.
His fingers bunched in the material at the small of her back, dragging her closer, tighter against him as he deepened the kiss in response. She was intoxicating, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of, and he couldn’t comprehend how on earth he had denied himself this for so long. Denied how much he wanted her, needed her. Long fingers threaded their way into her hair as he tilted her back gently into a dip, pouring all of the need and desire and love he felt into this one kiss. Because this had ceased simply being an apology when he’d realized how true the lyrics of the song were. And become so much else. When the need for air, finally overcame his desire to continue exploring the geography of Rukia’s mouth, he pulled back, gasping as he looked down at her. With a sigh, he pulled her up and tightened his grip on her, pressing her head against his chest and resting his chin on the top of her ebony head for a moment before swallowing hard and leaning down to nuzzle the side of her face. It was now or never. He’d done the hard part, and actually acted on his feelings. Now…he owed her the truth. A deep breath and he leaned in to whisper to her.
“Rukia…..I….”
Mentally steeling himself in case rejection was eminent, he brushed his lips against her ear before he continued in a whisper so soft he wasn’t sure if she’d hear him.
“I love you.”
And there it was. The second time Kuchiki Rukia could honestly say her heart stopped. Tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her head against his chest, holding on for dear life. He loved her. He really loved her. HER. Biting her lip, she pulled back to look up at him with tear-filled amethyst eyes. But despite the tears, there was nothing but love in her eyes.
“I..I love you too, Ichigo.”
And all it took were those few simple words. Within moments, his embrace had tightened around her and he was holding her like a drowning man holds a life preserver. She was here, and she was his, and she loved him as much as he loved her. Human, shinigami, vizard. It didn’t matter what they were, where they came from. All that mattered was now, and them. They were together, and happy. With a sigh, he rested his cheek against her hair, arms tangled around her as he simply relished the feeling of having her in his arms. From the edges of the dance floor, their friends simply watched with slightly smug looks as the last lines of the song rolled off the speakers.
I’m not a perfect person.
I never meant to do those things to you.
And so I have to say before I go…
That I just want you to know…
I found a reason for me.
To change who I used to be…
A reason to start over new…
And the reason is you…
I found a reason to show…
A side of me you didn’t know…
A reason for all that I do…
And the reason is you…
Those words rang so true, not just to those watching, but to the pair wrapped up in each other on the dance floor. She was his reason, the one who had changed him, found the parts of him that no one else could see and made the sunlight shine into them. The one who had taken all of his darkness and turned it into light and hope. She was the sunlight, she was the sky. In a word, she was Rukia. And that was reason enough for him.
Alright, so enjoy. I'll prolly be X-posting it to a couple different places so hopefully everyone will have fun w/it. Please let me know if you like it~