Hey kids, kunoichi-raiya is here to torment you all with her very first fic! MUAHAHHAHA! ...No, really, I apologize in advance for the bad pacing and lack of plotwise direction and such. Hope you'll be able to endure.
Spoiler warning! (sort of) This fic takes place right after the SS-arc.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach... more like Bleach owns me! ...Close enough, right?
Limitations
It was a crisp, dewy afternoon when the bus pulled up at the reserve, bringing with it a pack of high school students on their first weekend field trip. Music pumping in his headphones, the orange-haired boy named Ichigo stared out of the window. He'd spent the past thirty minutes grinding his teeth and pointedly trying to ignore Renji's endless jabs, taunts, and stupid comments, having heard from his friends that ignoring the tattoo-faced idiot was the best way to get him to shut up. Cheh! They lied. The only thing I'm getting out of this is even MORE idiocy on Renji's part, he thought. Not to mention one hell of a migrane.
You see, normally he wouldn't be doing this. Normally, he'd be in Renji's face, spewing out whatever invective popped into his head.
Okay, deep breath, he told himself, pulling on Karin's advice. One. Two. Three... Four... Twitch. He needed something to punch-- no, deep breath again. Four. Five. Six, seven eight nine--
Argh. He was gonna snap any moment now. If he could get in one good hit... just ONE--
"HYEEEEEEAAAAAH!" That was Keigo, diving off the bus. For once in his life Ichigo found him a welcome distraction. "Ha ha! This is totally SWEET, guys! Hot babes, hot tubs, romps through the forest-- oof!"
He was interrupted by a swift kick to the face. "Shut it, Keigo. You're going to scare off all the wildlife for ten miles around."
"Tatsukiiii-chaaan! Who CARES about wildlife? It's all about the romantic frolics! The social interactio--"
"Screw the social interaction!" She lodged her foot on his chest. "We are getting a good grade on our project, for once. And what's all this crap about 'hot babes'? Didn't I tell you not to look at other girls while you're with me? Ah? Ah?"
"Aaaaiiiiiiieeee!" wailed Keigo as he was lobbed up and down by the hair in the hands of an irate Tatsuki. "T-that's not how I meant it!"
The pair's antics raised a laugh in the energetic crowd that was now exiting the bus. Mizuiro came first, chatting amiably to the two fawning girls who were glued to his arms. After him followed a cluster of their giggling girl friends, then Orihime, with Chad, Ishida, and most of the other males of the class walking close behind. As always, that shrimp Hitsugaya was barely visible, except for the points of his spiky silver hair.
As Renji stomped off the bus, Ichigo trailed after the entire group while sparing a brief, sympathetic glance for Keigo. More than once, he'd been on the receiving end of one of Tatsuki's brutal attacks... apparently her new boyfriend of two weeks still had a lot to learn.
Finally, the last passenger-- a short, serious-looking girl in an airy summer dress-- emerged from the doorway. She was fumbling with her pack in extreme frustration.
"Kurosaki-kun!"
"Eh? What?" Ichigo said, breaking away from the group.
"The stupid traveling-pack is broken!"
"Ahhh... not again," he muttered, walking over and snatching the pack from her. "It's a backpack. And it's not broken, Rukia. You pull the zipper up-" he demonstrated, "not OUT."
"I see," said Rukia sagely for what must have been the tenth time that day. "You make it look so simple, Kurosaki-kun!"
"That's because it IS simple."
With an irritated grunt, he tossed her the pack, knowing it was only a few minutes before his assistance would be required again. It was beyond him how someone so smart in battle strategics could be such an idiot when it came to things like... zippers. And straws.Yet he couldn't help but feel a little smug at being able to help her. It felt good to know something that Rukia didn't.
Glancing over, the carrot-headed boy caught a glimpse of her face– bright with something like genuine happiness. He scoffed. Nope, he told himself, it's definitely not because of that silly little smile on her face. Or the way her eyes light up when I come to help her out.
...Not at all.
That evening...
Everything was stacked away, and the students gathered around the campfire to relax after a day of project work. Today they'd had their first assignment-- to collect and identify ten different types of bugs. The idea of handling hairy centipedes had made Rukia shudder, but her worries turned out to be unfounded. They'd found an assortment of beetles, butterflies and ants without any trouble, marked down various slots under their charts, and resolved to check with Ishida later for the real answers.
"I am not giving you the real answers," said Ishida stiffly over his mug of cocoa.
There was a collective protest. "Aww, come on man!" "Don't be stingy!" He set the mug down with a clatter.
"Stop asking. If you wanted a good grade you should have done the work yourselves. I refuse to accomodate slackers."
"But I thought you'd help us!" wailed Keigo.
"You thought wrong." He stood to leave, with a sharp glint in his glasses that seemed to finalize the matter.
"Hey!" called out a voice from the group. "What about Inoue-san?"
"Yeah, you gave the answers to HER!"
Ishida went stiff in the back. "T-that's different. Inoue-san helped me to collect the bugs. Unlike you lazy freeloaders," he finished vehemently.
Hitsugaya cast his eyes over at the girl skeptically. She was sleeping (which was probably to her benefit.) "Is that so," he drawled. "Wasn't she running around talking to butterflies for half the time?"
Someone called out. "Hey... do you think Ishida-san's got a crush on Inoue?"
"Ooh, maybe THAT's why he isn't giving us the answers."
"Hmm..."
"Hey look you guys, he's turning re-"
"Shut up!" cried Ishida, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Look, I can give answers to whoever I want, okay?"
A hush fell over the group. They watched the blood rising in Ishida's face expectantly.
Finally, Mizuiro said truimphantly, "So you DO like Inoue-san!"
"Hah! Who would've thought-"
"Gahh! Idiots! You don't understand anything." He yanked out the papers and thrust them into Keigo's outstretched hand. "Fine. But you are not to smudge or wrinkle my notes if you value your lives. They will be returned in PERFECT condition."
"Yeeeaah!" A general cheer broke out in the group.
"Thanks, Ishida-san! You're the best-"
"I owe you big time-"
"We'll take gooood care of these for you. Heh heh."
"Tch." With a noise not unlike Ichigo's signature scoff, the Quincy stalked off, muttering. "As if! How dare they try to insinuate..."
Blushes were hard to hide on a face as pale as Ishida's, Ichigo noted in amusement as his friend left the campfire. Ever since their return from Soul Society, his behavior towards Orihime had been more... how to say it... solicitous than usual. Honestly, even Ichigo had noticed-- and it's not like he was paying special attention to the Quincy's love life. But whatever Uryu's attentions, they were completely lost on the clueless girl. She was apparently stuck on the idea that Ishida liked Rukia. Rukia! Of all the damn people to choose. Personally Ichigo thought mixing Ishida and Rukia was like mixing sherbert and hot sauce-- completely stupid and contradictory.
But then again, sherbert with hot sauce is probably exactly the sort of thing that Orihime would think of...
"What are you smirking at?" Rukia's voice. Her real voice, at last-- not the fake 'Miss Kuchiki' drawl that she affected when others were paying attention. The din of the campfire party was apparently enough for her to relax her guise.
"The look on that idiot's face," he gestured. "It was so obvious."
"Ah," agreed Rukia, settling into the space next to him. "If someone like you could pick up on it, it must have been."
Grr. "At least I'm perceptive enough to figure out how to work a zipper."
WHACK.
"Ow!" Where on earth did she keep those fans? Ichigo rubbed his sore head, burning under Rukia's slap. "Cheh. Stop hitting me just because you know I'm right."
WHACK.
"Ah, don't worry, Kurosaki-kun!" She sang out sweetly. "I hit you because I FEEL like it."
Ichigo blinked in pain and then glared at her, both hands now laid protectively over his throbbing scalp. She was smiling at him in an incredibly annoying fashion. "Hey! Where's the justice in that!"
"Since when are you a big fan of justice?" returned Rukia. "Need I remind you who exactly came and snatched me away from my lawful execution?"
"Well geez. I wouldn't have bothered to come if I knew you'd make such a big fuss over it, you ingrate," said Ichigo airily.
In spite of his tone, he felt a sudden sinking feeling assault him at her reference to the execution.
It was meant as a jest, he knew, but he still felt his insides twisting at the thought of Rukia suspended beneath that gigantic bird-of-hell. Never, he knew, no matter what the circumstances, would he have let the Soul Society and its stupid rules take an innocent life. Rukia's life. And she had been through enough of her own torture; knowing her, probably self-imposed. He'd never asked, but the moment he'd looked into her eyes as she waited, unresistingly, for death... he'd seen hints of her inner scars... and they were deeper than he ever could have imagined.
What kind of past could leave scars like that? He couldn't help but wonder.
"Ichigo?"
"Eh?" Rukia was throwing him a puzzled glance. More specifically, his fist. He unclenched it with some effort. "Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking."
Looking up, he suddenly noticed that the campfire was dwindling, and threw it a stick. The uproar from earlier had subsided... it seemed that some people had decided to hit the sleeping bags already. Now the sun was starting to go down, bathing the site in brilliant orange light in a way only a Karakura sunset could. Putting aside his questions, he kicked the nearby embers, got up and stretched.
"Well I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go catch some Zs. See ya," he finished lightly, not looking behind him as he walked towards the tents.
Rukia stayed behind long afterwards, just staring at the pulsing glow of the fire. Then she scoffed and lifted herself up.
"Idiot. I can't get you to stop worrying about me, can I?" Her voice was soft. "It would have been better if you'd never known me at all..."
Kicking dust over the fire, she absently left the camp. It was dark, and still as ice. Even the chirping of crickets was gone.
Behind her, the pitch of night was broken only by a pair glowing, blue eyes... eyes that watched her carefully out of those all-too-silent shadows.
"...It's her."
(TBC)