Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Simple as that.
A/N: I had a bout of drabble plot bunnies. I needed to get them out. Here's the first. They were all written in about fifteen minutes, and are posted in the order they were written. Thanks for reading. Please review.
Sword
That's all it was.
A sword. A white sword.
That's all it looked like to him.
Nothing more than the most beautiful sword he'd ever seen.
A sword of tangible grace and beauty.
White, pure.
Innocent.
Except for the occasional drip of red that fell from the edge.
Then it was deadly.
That's how it was wielded.
Its ivory blade ready for anything.
Ready to become crimson.
When it became a crimson and ivory blur, it became its wielder.
It became her.
That's when Ichigo loved it best.
He loved the perfect blend of deadliness and beauty.
He loved Rukia.