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Soulmates.
That's what they were, weren't they?
Because it was the only explanation he had for why he was so drawn to her, why being around her made him feel like he was actually whole. And like they were bound by some invisible thread, he knew he would never escape her.
He couldn't quit her.
Couldn't leave her.
Couldn't forget her.
And, fuck, he tried, he tried so hard.
She was gone and she was never coming back (he repeated, like a prayer, over and over), he even tried to move on (to her best friend, spectacular decision that one was)
But he was left so empty, worse than when he had started.
It was as if some part of him was missing the entire time and not some small piece either, half his heart (or some poetic bullshit like that).
She was a fever he couldn't shake.
A habit he couldn't break.
And when he thought he was making progress, making some headway into being less obsessed, less compulsively, horrendously, almost frighteningly obsessed, there would be something that would bring him right back to the feelings he so desperately wanted to ignore.
He was drawn to her, and like the very zanpakuto she had buried in his heart, she was a part of him.
It'ssss coz she'ssss the queen
That snake like voice slithered in his ears as a feeling of dread washed over him.
And he couldn't fight him off anymore, that fucking hollow that began to eat away at his soul the second she left.
She was the light that kept his darkness from taking over.
From overwhelming him.
He wanted to be with her and he knew the last thing she wanted was for him to end up in the soul society before his time, she had told him that, reminded him of it constantly (practically beat it into him) and yet all he could think about was the moment he would be there with her forever.
And how every second he wasted here in his mundane, useless, listless life was another second he didn't get to be with her.
He often wondered when it happened, had he been in love with her since the moment he saw her?
Or was it a gradual burn that eventually raged into this uncontrollable fire in his veins.
Had he always been so consumed with thoughts of her.
Or only since she had left.
"Rukia…" Her name left his lips like a forlorn cry.
He cycled between feeling two ways, sometimes feeling as though she wasn't really gone (as if she was liable to pop out of his closet at a moment's notice) and other times he struggled to fathom if she had ever existed at all.
How could someone (so small) have been such a huge part of his life and then just disappear without a trace.
Why was that fair?
Why was she allowed to go off and live her centuries old life as a Royal Kuchiki Shinigami (probably captain by now if she got her way) and he was left lamenting over her, agonizing over the return of his powers.
Because only when they returned would he be sure he would belong to the Soul Society.
Otherwise, he wasn't really sure where he'd go.
Dying without having his powers returned to him would seriously suck.
But maybe I'd get to see mom…
She had been the only woman he'd ever felt such a strong attachment to, the very thing his life revolved around even after her death.
But then Rukia came along, and she gave him purpose again. Awoke new feelings in him, showed him that life was meant to be lived and not watched, and helped him believe that he really could make a difference. That he had the ability to help people.
Made him feel like he was needed, that there were people relying on him.
He would always be grateful for that.
She had changed him in ways he didn't even fully understand yet, ways that were far too complex to put into words.
You could go now, yaknow. Surely they'd make an excssseption for the KING.
He hated it, him, hichigo—zangetsu—whatever it was that was inside of him, the thing that had made a home of out the darkest recesses of his mind. The thing that tried so desperately to make him act upon his most sinister impulses, give into his most primal desires, force him to accept his most monstrous urges.
And he fought him, Ichigo hadn't done anything but fight since he had gotten back. Day and night, it was a constant war in his mind, between him and his shadow self.
The cackling, grinning, maniacal phantom that haunted him in his sleep, that slowly drove him into insanity through out the day.
Maybe that's what it wanted, to drive him over the edge, take him so far off the ledge that when he did one day return to Rukia, he would no longer be the Ichigo she had reciprocated her feelings for, instead just a shell of the man he once was.
Wouldn't that be the best revenge?
If Hichigo had somehow managed to merge them without revealing himself. Keeping Ichigo's face, but controlling his body, his thoughts, his actions, forever.
Just do it already, you been mooning over her for ssssso long.
"Shut up, shut the fuck up." He walked over to the window, staring out into the midnight sky.
It was a strange shade of black and blue, a little like the ocean, a little like a bruise.
A little like the color of Rukia's eyes.
Ten ssseconds, King. That's all I'd need. We'd get you to the ssssssoul ssssociety in no time.
He would be lying if he said it wasn't tempting him. He wanted to just let the hollow take over, the thought was becoming more and more obtrusive by the day. He wouldn't have to feel the guilt of disobeying Rukia's last request of him, if the hollow did it.
And then they'd be together forever.
"Promise me, Ichigo. Promise me that you will live after I'm gone."
The sound of her voice, even in memorium, made his heart ache.
"I don't know what you want me to say to that, or what that even means. How do you expect me to live knowing it can't be with you."
He'd never considered himself much of a wordsmith, feelings and all that weren't his strong suit. He was better equipped with a sword than a pen and more skilled at bottling his emotions than expressing them.
Yet that night on the roof, it was as if he had known what he wanted to say to her his entire life.
A if the words had already been written and all he had to do was recite them.
It had been so easy then, to confess his love for her. He had never even given it a proper thought, yet it flowed off the tip of his tongue as if the confession had been rehearsed.
"We'll be together again, Ichigo. I just know it. Until then, you need to go on—grow up, have a family, fall in lo—
"No. I won't." He had been so assured, so clear in his convictions, so incredibly certain. "I won't." It was a moment, maybe it wasn't the perfect moment because the sun hadn't lit the sky up in hues of pink and gold. And maybe he should have showered before agreeing to meet her. And sure she had been crying a little, but none of that made any difference to him.
Because when he kissed her, he just knew—it was only her and it would only ever be her. It was like he had been running on a backwards axis his entire life, and she snapped the world back in place.
No one before or after Rukia Kuchiki would ever mean a damn thing to him and he had decided right then that if he had to live out the rest of his days as a hermit then so be it. Because there was no way he would ever feel this way about someone again.
He knew it in the depths of his soul and in every fiber of his being and in every inch of his skin—she belonged to him and him to her.
"Ichigo…please." Her voice was raspy and he could still remember the sweet blush that had risen in her cheeks, the way her hair smelled of jasmines and how she had tasted like strawberries. "Don't do this…" It was a half hearted plea, one her eyes betrayed vehemently the second they locked with his.
"I love you." He had never been more proud to say any three words. "I will always love you, Rukia. And if I have to wait a fucking lifetime to say it again, I will." He still would, he'd wait thirty lifetimes for her.
"Even while professing your undying devotion to me, you manage to be crass." Her chastisement was sufficiently discredited by the laugh that followed.
"Well, is that all you have to say to me?" He'd always been impatient and brazen and she had always taken her sweet time to torture him. "Clock's ticking, Kuchiki. Byakuya's gonna open a senkaimon in the middle of my living room any minute now."
He remembered the look of melancholy that had befallen her otherwise beautiful features, the way her downcast eyes began to moisten under his gaze, her perfect lips down turning into a frown.
As if she hadn't quite registered that she was leaving (and this time for good) until this very moment. It would be just like her not to have accepted it though, she was always so good at compartmentalizing the things she didn't want to deal with (like her feelings for him)
"C'mon Rukia." He had tucked a hand under chin. "Tell me it's not all in my head." He wasn't a beggar, but holy hell was she making it hard for him to maintain his dignity.
She lifted her eyes to him. "If I say it, it's going to kill me." And she knew it would kill him too, it was the latter she was more afraid of. Assuming her feelings for him and knowing them were two very different things and he was too impulsive with his own life for her to take that risk.
Still, he was nothing if not persistent. "You're already dead, midget." And if she had expected him to all of a sudden become endearing, she would've been sorely disappointed.
Luckily for her, she knew him better than that. "Ichigo, I can't." It was taking everything she had not to wrap all her limbs around him and never let him go, to confess to him over and over how much she loved him and how she had known it from the moment she had met him.
Rukia was too painful to think about, but in some twisted way she was the only thing that was keeping him alive.
Somewhere between sleeping in his closet and fighting beside him (as well as with him), she had nestled her way into his heart and then became it.
Ssssso, how's it end? Does she ssssay it back or what? You've only just replayed it a million times sssssince she's left.
The hollow was taunting him, but he was right all the same.
All Ichigo thought about was Rukia, she consumed him.
He wondered how much she thought about him, if she did at all, wondered if she had meant what she said when she told him she would wait for him.
"What if we never see each other again, Rukia? What if this is all we have?" He had needed her then, the way he had never needed anyone before.
And even as the words tore from his throat, he was absolutely terrified (quite possibly for the first time in his life) that they would come true.
Sometimes he wished he had never met her at all, his life would be so simple. He would find a nice girl (probably Orihime Inoue because she would have never let him go for anyone other than Rukia), settle down and live out a perfectly normal life.
But he would have never known passion or what it felt like to truly be alive. He would never know love, in the all consuming way it was meant to be felt.
And it was agonizing, absolute hell, each day stretching for eternities, keeping one eye on the door just hoping she'll come back to him, but it would be worth it.
It had to be.
"We're going to be together, Ichigo. I promise." He had been skeptical, it was his nature after all, but there was such blinding hope in her eyes that he had trouble holding on to that cynicism for very long.
"How do you know? Why can't you stay here until we know for sure." Letting her leave had been the hardest thing he had ever done.
And he'd done some very hard things.
"You know I can't." His heart broke when he would remember the sad smile she had offered him. "I don't belong here."
He had argued against that, harshly, in fact. Because she belonged anywhere he was and vice versa.
Ultimately though, he had to accept she was right.
"Tell me you love me Rukia, I need to hear you say it. What if I don't end up in the soul society when I die?" He had been so frantic, feeling as if everything was slipping out of his fingers.
He needed something to cling to and it wasn't until much later that he understood why she never gave it to him.
She ignored his protests with a shake of her head, "I will wait for you, Ichigo. Forever, if I have to." She promised him utmost sincerity. "And I will find you again, no matter where you are."
In every lifetime, across time and space.
What was it she sssssaid boss?
He drew the blinds, a tired yawn escaping him.
He knew thinking about her was both cathartic and masochistic. She was killing him slowly, but the memories of her and the time they spent together kept the hollow at bay.
As long as he had Rukia to hold on to, Hichigo would never be in control.
Ultimately, he knew that's what she would want for him.
"And when I die, he'll finally be dead too…"
Or at least, that's what Ichigo hoped.
Wrong again, boss.
"Huh. And why's that, hollow?" He spat, feeling a little more insane than usual considering he was talking out loud to his shadow.
Soulmates never die.
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A/N: That's it. I've never written Bleach before, but I was ITCHING to write an IchiRuki oneshot to test the waters.
Let me know what you thought!
This was inspired by the Placebo song Sleeping with Ghosts.
Leave me a review and I'll be forever grateful :)