Bah! I was not supposed to be writing this. I was supposed to be writing my somewhat sweet Hichiruki fic. But apparently my morbid muse is on duty tonight, because I was having little progress with the other, and this just flowed out.
If you notice any errors, please tell me. I was my own beta because my normal one (my sister, who I wrote this for) is at work, and my other one (my mom) won't read my dark things. . . .
It's kind of odd to say "enjoy" before a dark fic, but if you're reading this I guess you like darkness, so. . . enjoy!
She sensed him coming up behind her and flipped around, but not in time to stop him. He forced his arms around her, one sliding up to cover her mouth before she could call out a kidou, the other wrapping tight around her waist and pulling her to him. He pressed his lips to the hand that covered her mouth, meeting her gaze with his smiling yellow and black eyes. She bit his hand in response, drawing blood, but he just laughed, keeping the hand in place, letting Ichigo's blood stain her lips.
"Now, now, little Rukia-chaa-n," he drawled, digging his nails into her side and making her cry out against his bleeding fingers. "Play nice, kitten. We don't want to end the game too early. No, no, we want to draw it out for a long, long time. As long as we can, Rukia-chan."
Then he let her go, laughing again as she sprang away from him, bringing her hands up defensively, preparing a kidou. Then she cursed softly, her eyes hating him, as she knew he'd detected her weakness. She couldn't attack him, for that would be attacking Ichigo. There was nothing she could do. . . but run.
She spun about and began to flee, desperately, her bare feet pounding across the cold, cracked concrete, but he had another advantage over her: he'd caught her in her gigai, she had no way to leave it. She had only the strength of the small teenage girl she was impersonating, and his longer legs quickly caught up with her, his grasping fingers bringing her to a sudden and painful stop by catching hold of her hair. She screamed, digging her nails into his hand, but he merely laughed again at her tenacity, seeming to enjoy the pain, and threw her to the ground, pressing his foot on the small of her back to keep her there.
The fall, and carefully placed shoe, pushed the breath from her, and she found herself gasping, unable to do anything to get herself free.
"I like that dress, Rukia-chan. Very cute. Do you like bunnies, Rukia-chan?"
"Scum. Stop calling me that," she managed to spit out, her breaths short and shallow.
He put more weight on his leg, and she bit her lip against crying out again, though angry tears sprang to her eyes.
"Why? What's wrong, Rukia-chan? Doesn't he call you this, Rukia-chan?"
More weight on the leg. He finally got a cry out of her, though it was strangled and quiet; she could barely breathe.
"Or do you only wish he would?"
His voice was cold. He removed his leg from her back, standing over her while she coughed and struggled to catch her breath. After a few moments, he crouched down, grabbing her hair again and hauling her to her feet. She didn't fight him this time, merely glared up at him, her eyes fierce, tear marks evident in the dirt on her face.
Then he kissed her, biting her bottom lip hard and invading her mouth with his tongue. She didn't respond, didn't blink, kept her angry eyes trained on him. He pulled away after only a moment, not wiping the bloody lipstick they'd traded from his mouth, a touch of irritation in his brow and eyes.
"Tsumanai! (How boring!)" he said, taking her chin in his still-bleeding hand and forcing her to meet his eyes. He searched for her weakness, for the tears he'd caused, and found them dried. His eyes narrowed, and he clenched his hand, still holding her face.
"You think you have fire, little kitten? You don't. When you look at me like that, all I see is a foolish little girl. If you just give in, where's the game?"
He leaned in again, and she couldn't help closing her eyes. It hurt to see those eyes, that twisted sadistic expression, on his face.
"I'm not interested in useless little girls, kitten. If you change the rules, I have to make a new game," he whispered, his voice light and calm, deadly. "A new game, with a new goal."
He kissed her again, but rougher this time, drawing blood from her lip. When he stopped he didn't pull away, but whispered his next words against her mouth, forcing them into her.
"I won't just break you, little kitten. I'll crush you."
He leaned back, and she opened her eyes again, meeting those yellow pupils almost against her will.
"Are you sure you want to play by those rules, kitten?"