Bleach Drabbles: #1 - #5 (IchiRuki, IchiHime, RenIchi, RenRuki, Rukia + Byakuya)
Comm: 50ficlets
Table: No. 1
Prompt: #1 - Abyss
Title: Face the Darkness
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
Word Count: 434
Summary: Sometimes, Rukia finds herself waking in the dead of night.
In the dead of night, Rukia often finds herself unable to sleep. She'll only be capable of staring into darkness, and though it's a fairly small cupboard, she can't see anything. She can't even see her hands even though she raises them up to her face. Sometimes, she feels like she's in oblivion. Sometimes, she gets scared.
And then, gently and oh so quietly, she slides open the door and hops out, feet landing on the wooden floor without a sound. Her sleeping gown swooshes about her, hem dangling just below her knees. Barefooted, she pads to the window and opens it. When the moon is high up in the sky, when it's round and full and shining brightly, she'll sit on the sill and gaze out into the night.
It's beautiful, how the moonlight bathes the city, outlining the lines and breathing life into the buildings, the streets, the alleyways and bushes. It illuminates the place, giving it a rather ghostly hue, but still it's stunning, even to Rukia's eyes - and that's saying something.
She will sit there for a while, pondering over what has happened and what will happen. She'll wonder why that teacher in the hallway gave her the sort of look that makes students run for their lives, why Orihime dozed off in class when she's usually so vibrant, why Chad is willing to share his lunchbox with Uryuu in spite of the Quincy's protests.
Rukia will wonder until she feels sleepy, till the night seeps into her skin, creeps into her bones, and then she closes the window and hops off the sill. But, before she goes back to bed, she'll stand by the bedside, gazing down at the sleeping form, his body curled up. He's always buried under the blankets, his mop of orange hair the only thing visible. His side rises and falls in a steady rhythm, reassuring Rukia that he's well, that he isn't having any nightmares.
Rukia smiles despite herself, wonders just why he agreed to risk his life for his family, to accept her shinigami powers. She wonders, trying to find the answer, and every time she comes back to the same conclusion. He's destined to save them, and that's maybe the reason why he didn't die while receiving her powers.
With that, Rukia finally climbs back into the cupboard, snuggles under the blanket. She peeks through the crack of the door, watching Ichigo once more, and then, with a small, satisfied smile to herself, she lies down and closes her eyes, his mere presence giving her the courage to face the darkness.
Prompt: #2 - Motion
Title: Family Honour
Characters: Rukia, Byakuya
Rating: G
Word Count: 677
Summary: Upholding the family honour is everything to the Kuchiki House. Rukia knows this.
For the fifth time that morning, Rukia focuses all the energy within her to her fingers. She can feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, feel the walls of her chest straining with her heart's thumping. The beats are loud in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the outside world. She can't hear the melodious chirping of the birds, the angry shout from an old woman who tries chasing a cat out of her kitchen, a child's jovial scream as he plays tag in the streets. She's deaf to all that save for the humming in her throat as she calls forth her spiritual pressure.
Electricity is evident on her fingers now, the thin, pristine white sparks adorning her tips. She opens her eyes to see, and smiles to herself in satisfaction. Her fingers curl a little as she plays with the sparks, watching and brightening up at the way they jump in the center of her palm. The lightning is within her power now, she can feel it bending, submitting to her every will. She takes a deep breath, calling forth the elements, lips barely moving with a quiet incantation sacred to the death gods.
And then she fires, screaming the spell's name. Byakurai, she calls forth the lightning, sending it through the air. The sparks leave her fingertips, and she feels like she's lost a portion of her energy, like she's releasing a part of herself in that spell. The way it flashes before her eyes reassures her that she's doing fine, better than the last time she tried and utterly failed without even a small spark.
But then, in place of the crack that she expects to hear, she is greeted by nothing other than silence. She opens her eyes, having squeezed them shut for fear of blinding herself with the intense light, and she sees nothing there. No hole in the opposite wall, much in contrast to what she has been expecting. She stares at it for a moment, confused, puzzled, before making her way there. She runs her fingers along the wall. Nothing.
"You have wronged your technique," comes a deep voice from the doorway, and she immediately looks up, only to find the master of the noble house, the man who married her late sister, her brother. He has that cold look in his eyes as he stares at her, and from there she can already feel the short hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He walks in; she takes a step back, resting a hand on the hilt of her blade, watching him as he takes up position before the wall.
"Watch, and learn," is all he says, a hand rising to point an index finger. He doesn't need to move, blink, or utter any words. He doesn't even appear to have done anything before a flash of light appears, nearly blinding Rukia, and the next thing she knows she is staring through a huge, smoking hole in the wall, looking out into their zen garden where flowers of all colours bloom bright and vibrant in the summer sun.
And when Rukia turns to look at her brother, all Byakuya says is, "You need to practice more often. You have to correct your posture, right what is wrong. I've told you that before you can attempt anything else, you must learn the basics. Come to me if you feel that you need help. I do not want a member of my house dishonouring the Kuchiki family's name just because of her failure to perform such a simple spell."
With that, Byakuya turns, walks to the door, his scarf leaving Rukia with a bitter aftertaste and a heavy sense of disappointment that hangs over her like a thundercloud. But, before he exits, she can see a small smile on his lips, just a slight curl at the edges of his mouth, and that reassures her that she can do better. She vows to be better, to be a Kuchiki that will always uphold and never disgrace her family's honour.
Prompt: #3 - Pain
Title: Better Left Unsaid
Pairing: One-sided Rukia/Ichigo, implied Renji/Ichigo
Rating: G
Word Count: 455
Summary: The smile on Rukia's lips is that of sorrow as she watches Ichigo walk away.
Rukia doesn't know what to think when she's confronted by Ichigo, who tells her that he doesn't actually share what she feels for him. "Sorry, Rukia," he says, but she knows that he's relieved to finally get it off his chest, that he doesn't have to hide anything from her anymore. He used to tell her his dreams, his ambitions, complain about his parents and the daily events, about his father and the man's antics. But lately, he hasn't been doing so, like as if he's keeping her in the dark about things that she ought to know.
She doesn't have to know how or why or when Ichigo has started going out with her childhood best friend. Actually, she just doesn't want to know. To know will only make the pain worse. She tries to forget that confrontation, the awkward silence that engulfs them, hanging heavy and threatening in the air between them. She can hear the rustle of the leaves overhead, shading her from the glare of the midday sun. Ichigo's hair is more orange in the sunlight, his eyes sparkling like that of the ocean, except they were a darker shade of orange.
Rukia purses her lips and nods, though she just wants to grab Ichigo by the collar and shake him, to wake him up. Why Renji? She keeps asking herself that. Am I not good enough? After that encounter, she finds herself asking those questions, over and over again, repeating it in her head like a mantra. Every day when she wakes up; every night before she goes to sleep. She'll even mutter those words in her dreams.
She hates it whenever Ichigo so much as looks at Renji now. What she sees in his eyes are not only that of friendly affection, but also a rare fondness that she only manages to find in Byakuya's eyes whenever they set their gaze upon her sister. Rukia has no doubts that it's real, what Ichigo and Renji are having, despite frequently being at loggerheads with each other.
She and Ichigo are drifting apart now. Now, it's only a "Hi, Rukia" and a "See you later, Ichigo." There aren't any more wide grins, no loud laughter, nothing save for the occasional, normal greetings. But when Renji's around, Ichigo doesn't have to think twice about letting himself go. Rukia can see that he enjoys being with him rather than with her, and always, always, she falls back behind them, preferring yet unwilling to watch as they walk side by side, pushing each other around and digging elbows into each others' ribs.
The smile on Rukia's lips is that of sorrow.
The pain in her chest is one that she has never experienced before.
Prompt: #4 - Sight
Title: Lunchbox
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Rating: G
Word Count: 456
Summary: Orihime steals Ichigo's lunchbox.
Orihime is running. But not from any hollow or monster or ghost that wants to take her life - she's running from a young man whose lunchbox she has just stolen.
"Orihime, come back here!" she can hear him shout from the lower floor as she makes her way up the staircase. Giggling, she takes the steps two at a time, making sure that her skirt doesn't rise too high up her thighs. The lunchbox is safely in her hands, clutched to her chest. Isshin has never been a particularly good chef, so she can't really imagine why he's so intent on having his lunch back. This makes her want to cook something for him, learn some new recipes for him to try out.
Whenever she's bored, at home or even in class, she often finds herself thinking about what it would be like to actually whip up a meal for him. A bento, lunchbox, for him to bring to school. She'd cook everything that he likes - carrots the colour of his hair, freshly cut salmon, some broccoli - and she hopes to maybe share it with him. She doesn't care about what others would say. It's just him and it's just her, and they're just enjoying the time spent together.
Orihime nearly trips on a step as she thinks about it, almost letting go of the lunchbox, but she'd sooner allow herself to fall than ever release it. Spilling his food all over the floor is the last thing on her list. He wouldn't be too happy about it either.
"Can't catch me, Kurosaki-kun!" she yells over her shoulder, uncaring as to the weird looks sent her way from fellow students and annoyed ones from teachers. "You have to run faster than that! You're too slow."
She doesn't hear anything in response though, and when she looks back, there's no one there. Only teachers and students whose faces she can barely recognize. There are just too many students in the school that she can't remember each and every one of them. She blinks in puzzlement, but continues up the steps all the same until she reaches the top.
The next thing she knows, she is grabbed by the hips from behind, whirled around, her voice coming out in a surprised scream, and pinned to the wall.
"Gotcha!" Ichigo smirks down at her, triumphant though breathing a little laboriously from his sprints throughout the school. "Now, my lunchbox." He holds out a hand. Orihime purses her lips, unwilling to surrender, and pokes him playfully in the cheek.
"You have to let me feed you first."
Slightly taken aback, Ichigo looks from side to side and, seeing that nobody is paying them any attention, pecks her finger and grins. "Okay."
Prompt: #5 - Sound
Title: Just the Two of Us
Pairing: Renji/Rukia
Rating: R
Word Count: 422
Summary: Sometimes Renji will bring her up to the top floor of the Sixth Division barracks.
Sometimes he'll bring her to the top floor of the Sixth Division barracks, which it's hardly in use. Most of the members are training downstairs in the hall, or even outside when the weather's not so hot. This place is their own little sanctuary, where they seek refuge from the outside world. The heat of the afternoon doesn't seep in much, but it does get stuffy since there isn't a means of cooling oneself.
But they don't take into account all those matters that seem to be nonsense when they're together. The heat, the cold, everything that insist on ripping them apart - they just don't care. It's enough that they're with each other - that's what counts.
There's an old, used mattress on the floor by the window that stinks of sweat and dust and age. He doesn't allow her to use it, afraid that she'll contract some illness from it - highly unlikely - and he doesn't want her to get dirty. Instead, he settles for the wall, where the cement is hard and cold against their bare backs, where he finds it easy to support her when her legs are wrapped around his waist.
He'll peel her clothes back one by one - obi, shihakusho, tabi - with her hands gently guiding him, that nervous little smile mirroring what he feels on the inside. He tries to smile back, but his hands, trembling in anticipation, are quite the distraction. To avoid her gaze for the time being, he'll press his nose against the side of her neck, breathe in her scent of freshly cut grass, the soft lavender colon that seem to engulf the halls of the Kuchiki House.
And when he moves, she moves with him, her little cries suppressed of their true volume, eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted. Sometimes, he'll kiss her to swallow the noises when she gets too loud, for fear of being discovered, but otherwise he'll just let her do whatever she wants. "Renji," she says often, his name, over and over again, her voice a sweet melody to his ears, prompting him to further his exploits.
Finally, when it's all over, he'll rest his forehead against hers, listening to her slightly panicked whispers, urging them to leave this place "or else Brother will be suspicious." He only chuckles and kisses her nose. "Stay with me for just a little while longer," he'll say, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her close.
It's just the two of them now, and that's all that matters.
Table: No. 1
Prompt: #1 - Abyss
Title: Face the Darkness
Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
Word Count: 434
Summary: Sometimes, Rukia finds herself waking in the dead of night.
In the dead of night, Rukia often finds herself unable to sleep. She'll only be capable of staring into darkness, and though it's a fairly small cupboard, she can't see anything. She can't even see her hands even though she raises them up to her face. Sometimes, she feels like she's in oblivion. Sometimes, she gets scared.
And then, gently and oh so quietly, she slides open the door and hops out, feet landing on the wooden floor without a sound. Her sleeping gown swooshes about her, hem dangling just below her knees. Barefooted, she pads to the window and opens it. When the moon is high up in the sky, when it's round and full and shining brightly, she'll sit on the sill and gaze out into the night.
It's beautiful, how the moonlight bathes the city, outlining the lines and breathing life into the buildings, the streets, the alleyways and bushes. It illuminates the place, giving it a rather ghostly hue, but still it's stunning, even to Rukia's eyes - and that's saying something.
She will sit there for a while, pondering over what has happened and what will happen. She'll wonder why that teacher in the hallway gave her the sort of look that makes students run for their lives, why Orihime dozed off in class when she's usually so vibrant, why Chad is willing to share his lunchbox with Uryuu in spite of the Quincy's protests.
Rukia will wonder until she feels sleepy, till the night seeps into her skin, creeps into her bones, and then she closes the window and hops off the sill. But, before she goes back to bed, she'll stand by the bedside, gazing down at the sleeping form, his body curled up. He's always buried under the blankets, his mop of orange hair the only thing visible. His side rises and falls in a steady rhythm, reassuring Rukia that he's well, that he isn't having any nightmares.
Rukia smiles despite herself, wonders just why he agreed to risk his life for his family, to accept her shinigami powers. She wonders, trying to find the answer, and every time she comes back to the same conclusion. He's destined to save them, and that's maybe the reason why he didn't die while receiving her powers.
With that, Rukia finally climbs back into the cupboard, snuggles under the blanket. She peeks through the crack of the door, watching Ichigo once more, and then, with a small, satisfied smile to herself, she lies down and closes her eyes, his mere presence giving her the courage to face the darkness.
Prompt: #2 - Motion
Title: Family Honour
Characters: Rukia, Byakuya
Rating: G
Word Count: 677
Summary: Upholding the family honour is everything to the Kuchiki House. Rukia knows this.
For the fifth time that morning, Rukia focuses all the energy within her to her fingers. She can feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, feel the walls of her chest straining with her heart's thumping. The beats are loud in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the outside world. She can't hear the melodious chirping of the birds, the angry shout from an old woman who tries chasing a cat out of her kitchen, a child's jovial scream as he plays tag in the streets. She's deaf to all that save for the humming in her throat as she calls forth her spiritual pressure.
Electricity is evident on her fingers now, the thin, pristine white sparks adorning her tips. She opens her eyes to see, and smiles to herself in satisfaction. Her fingers curl a little as she plays with the sparks, watching and brightening up at the way they jump in the center of her palm. The lightning is within her power now, she can feel it bending, submitting to her every will. She takes a deep breath, calling forth the elements, lips barely moving with a quiet incantation sacred to the death gods.
And then she fires, screaming the spell's name. Byakurai, she calls forth the lightning, sending it through the air. The sparks leave her fingertips, and she feels like she's lost a portion of her energy, like she's releasing a part of herself in that spell. The way it flashes before her eyes reassures her that she's doing fine, better than the last time she tried and utterly failed without even a small spark.
But then, in place of the crack that she expects to hear, she is greeted by nothing other than silence. She opens her eyes, having squeezed them shut for fear of blinding herself with the intense light, and she sees nothing there. No hole in the opposite wall, much in contrast to what she has been expecting. She stares at it for a moment, confused, puzzled, before making her way there. She runs her fingers along the wall. Nothing.
"You have wronged your technique," comes a deep voice from the doorway, and she immediately looks up, only to find the master of the noble house, the man who married her late sister, her brother. He has that cold look in his eyes as he stares at her, and from there she can already feel the short hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He walks in; she takes a step back, resting a hand on the hilt of her blade, watching him as he takes up position before the wall.
"Watch, and learn," is all he says, a hand rising to point an index finger. He doesn't need to move, blink, or utter any words. He doesn't even appear to have done anything before a flash of light appears, nearly blinding Rukia, and the next thing she knows she is staring through a huge, smoking hole in the wall, looking out into their zen garden where flowers of all colours bloom bright and vibrant in the summer sun.
And when Rukia turns to look at her brother, all Byakuya says is, "You need to practice more often. You have to correct your posture, right what is wrong. I've told you that before you can attempt anything else, you must learn the basics. Come to me if you feel that you need help. I do not want a member of my house dishonouring the Kuchiki family's name just because of her failure to perform such a simple spell."
With that, Byakuya turns, walks to the door, his scarf leaving Rukia with a bitter aftertaste and a heavy sense of disappointment that hangs over her like a thundercloud. But, before he exits, she can see a small smile on his lips, just a slight curl at the edges of his mouth, and that reassures her that she can do better. She vows to be better, to be a Kuchiki that will always uphold and never disgrace her family's honour.
Prompt: #3 - Pain
Title: Better Left Unsaid
Pairing: One-sided Rukia/Ichigo, implied Renji/Ichigo
Rating: G
Word Count: 455
Summary: The smile on Rukia's lips is that of sorrow as she watches Ichigo walk away.
Rukia doesn't know what to think when she's confronted by Ichigo, who tells her that he doesn't actually share what she feels for him. "Sorry, Rukia," he says, but she knows that he's relieved to finally get it off his chest, that he doesn't have to hide anything from her anymore. He used to tell her his dreams, his ambitions, complain about his parents and the daily events, about his father and the man's antics. But lately, he hasn't been doing so, like as if he's keeping her in the dark about things that she ought to know.
She doesn't have to know how or why or when Ichigo has started going out with her childhood best friend. Actually, she just doesn't want to know. To know will only make the pain worse. She tries to forget that confrontation, the awkward silence that engulfs them, hanging heavy and threatening in the air between them. She can hear the rustle of the leaves overhead, shading her from the glare of the midday sun. Ichigo's hair is more orange in the sunlight, his eyes sparkling like that of the ocean, except they were a darker shade of orange.
Rukia purses her lips and nods, though she just wants to grab Ichigo by the collar and shake him, to wake him up. Why Renji? She keeps asking herself that. Am I not good enough? After that encounter, she finds herself asking those questions, over and over again, repeating it in her head like a mantra. Every day when she wakes up; every night before she goes to sleep. She'll even mutter those words in her dreams.
She hates it whenever Ichigo so much as looks at Renji now. What she sees in his eyes are not only that of friendly affection, but also a rare fondness that she only manages to find in Byakuya's eyes whenever they set their gaze upon her sister. Rukia has no doubts that it's real, what Ichigo and Renji are having, despite frequently being at loggerheads with each other.
She and Ichigo are drifting apart now. Now, it's only a "Hi, Rukia" and a "See you later, Ichigo." There aren't any more wide grins, no loud laughter, nothing save for the occasional, normal greetings. But when Renji's around, Ichigo doesn't have to think twice about letting himself go. Rukia can see that he enjoys being with him rather than with her, and always, always, she falls back behind them, preferring yet unwilling to watch as they walk side by side, pushing each other around and digging elbows into each others' ribs.
The smile on Rukia's lips is that of sorrow.
The pain in her chest is one that she has never experienced before.
Prompt: #4 - Sight
Title: Lunchbox
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Rating: G
Word Count: 456
Summary: Orihime steals Ichigo's lunchbox.
Orihime is running. But not from any hollow or monster or ghost that wants to take her life - she's running from a young man whose lunchbox she has just stolen.
"Orihime, come back here!" she can hear him shout from the lower floor as she makes her way up the staircase. Giggling, she takes the steps two at a time, making sure that her skirt doesn't rise too high up her thighs. The lunchbox is safely in her hands, clutched to her chest. Isshin has never been a particularly good chef, so she can't really imagine why he's so intent on having his lunch back. This makes her want to cook something for him, learn some new recipes for him to try out.
Whenever she's bored, at home or even in class, she often finds herself thinking about what it would be like to actually whip up a meal for him. A bento, lunchbox, for him to bring to school. She'd cook everything that he likes - carrots the colour of his hair, freshly cut salmon, some broccoli - and she hopes to maybe share it with him. She doesn't care about what others would say. It's just him and it's just her, and they're just enjoying the time spent together.
Orihime nearly trips on a step as she thinks about it, almost letting go of the lunchbox, but she'd sooner allow herself to fall than ever release it. Spilling his food all over the floor is the last thing on her list. He wouldn't be too happy about it either.
"Can't catch me, Kurosaki-kun!" she yells over her shoulder, uncaring as to the weird looks sent her way from fellow students and annoyed ones from teachers. "You have to run faster than that! You're too slow."
She doesn't hear anything in response though, and when she looks back, there's no one there. Only teachers and students whose faces she can barely recognize. There are just too many students in the school that she can't remember each and every one of them. She blinks in puzzlement, but continues up the steps all the same until she reaches the top.
The next thing she knows, she is grabbed by the hips from behind, whirled around, her voice coming out in a surprised scream, and pinned to the wall.
"Gotcha!" Ichigo smirks down at her, triumphant though breathing a little laboriously from his sprints throughout the school. "Now, my lunchbox." He holds out a hand. Orihime purses her lips, unwilling to surrender, and pokes him playfully in the cheek.
"You have to let me feed you first."
Slightly taken aback, Ichigo looks from side to side and, seeing that nobody is paying them any attention, pecks her finger and grins. "Okay."
Prompt: #5 - Sound
Title: Just the Two of Us
Pairing: Renji/Rukia
Rating: R
Word Count: 422
Summary: Sometimes Renji will bring her up to the top floor of the Sixth Division barracks.
Sometimes he'll bring her to the top floor of the Sixth Division barracks, which it's hardly in use. Most of the members are training downstairs in the hall, or even outside when the weather's not so hot. This place is their own little sanctuary, where they seek refuge from the outside world. The heat of the afternoon doesn't seep in much, but it does get stuffy since there isn't a means of cooling oneself.
But they don't take into account all those matters that seem to be nonsense when they're together. The heat, the cold, everything that insist on ripping them apart - they just don't care. It's enough that they're with each other - that's what counts.
There's an old, used mattress on the floor by the window that stinks of sweat and dust and age. He doesn't allow her to use it, afraid that she'll contract some illness from it - highly unlikely - and he doesn't want her to get dirty. Instead, he settles for the wall, where the cement is hard and cold against their bare backs, where he finds it easy to support her when her legs are wrapped around his waist.
He'll peel her clothes back one by one - obi, shihakusho, tabi - with her hands gently guiding him, that nervous little smile mirroring what he feels on the inside. He tries to smile back, but his hands, trembling in anticipation, are quite the distraction. To avoid her gaze for the time being, he'll press his nose against the side of her neck, breathe in her scent of freshly cut grass, the soft lavender colon that seem to engulf the halls of the Kuchiki House.
And when he moves, she moves with him, her little cries suppressed of their true volume, eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted. Sometimes, he'll kiss her to swallow the noises when she gets too loud, for fear of being discovered, but otherwise he'll just let her do whatever she wants. "Renji," she says often, his name, over and over again, her voice a sweet melody to his ears, prompting him to further his exploits.
Finally, when it's all over, he'll rest his forehead against hers, listening to her slightly panicked whispers, urging them to leave this place "or else Brother will be suspicious." He only chuckles and kisses her nose. "Stay with me for just a little while longer," he'll say, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her close.
It's just the two of them now, and that's all that matters.