This is the first of my one shot song fic drabbles! I have three planned so far, including this one, but if someone gives me a song (has to involve dancing somehow) that I get an idea for, I may write a few more.
This song is "So She Dances" sung by Josh Groban. Listen to it, it's beautiful. And Kubo owns Bleach. If I owned it...well, IchiRuki wouldn't just be hinted at, it would be REEEAAALL.
Also, the bolded parts are the lyrics of the song...
So She Dances
The ballroom was huge, ridiculously so, ostentatiously so, with a ceiling so high you had to tip your head back to see the top, with pillars and spiralling patterns, marbled floors, and a wide staircase leading down to the ballroom floor, carpeted with thick, luscious red. Kurosaki Ichigo could see Kuchiki Byakuya's hand in everything and, not for the first time, he found himself wondering what the hell he was doing here.
The Annual Shinigami Ball. Of course it would be held at the Kuchiki Manor, and of course everyone of any importance would be there. He was standing at the side, holding a wine glass that looked like it would snap any second. Of course, it was filled with juice. Matsumoto had laughed her head off when she had given it to him.
"Here's to the only underage shinigami ever!" she had crowed. "We have a bowl of juice just for you right here!"
He would have punched her if it weren't for the fact that she had turned to her captain and started trying to feed him juice as well, claiming that although he was technically older than Ichigo, he looked like he was underage. Ichigo had decided it would be best to leave before Hitsugaya decided to prove his maturity and age by going Bankai on her.
So here he was, feeling awkward as hell, at the first dance of his life.
He wouldn't even be here, except...
On his invitation, written in formal, elegant script and delivered to him by hell butterfly, there had been a horrible drawing in the corner of him with rabbit ears and a few scrawled words:
"I hope to see you there!"
And he was here, because she had asked.
The music changed, and he tipped his head trying to figure out what it was. A waltz, that was it. His mother used to listen to classical music all the time, so he remembered it.
A waltz when she walks in the room
It was at that moment that he saw her.
She had appeared at the top of the staircase, unseen by all save him. She was wearing a white dress that flowed down her form and swished around her legs, her pitch black hair swept up, that one distinctive bang still falling in front of her face. It was simple, but she looked elegant, ethereal, even as she skipped lightly down the steps, skirting close to the railing and trying to be seen as little as possible.
Ichigo felt his hand drift down, setting the glass on the table next to him. She had descended into the crowd, and he found himself moving to keep her in his sight, glimpses through the throngs of other people across the dance floor. He couldn't take his eyes away.
She pulls back the hair from her face
She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight
Even her shadow has grace
Unnoticed by all, she was dancing, spinning lightly, her hands tracing the air. And she was smiling too, softly, her eyes closed. She was beautiful, Ichigo thought numbly. And she was so untouchable.
A waltz for the girl out of reach
She lifts her hands up to the sky
She moves with the music
The song is her lover
His eyes traced over her like hands, lightly and reverently, watching the white fabric cling and then swirl around her with unmistakable grace. She was alone, and yet she didn't seem to need anyone else with her. The music was carrying her, and he had never seen anyone dance like that, as if she was moved by the sound itself.
The melody's making her cry
He had never seen Rukia like this before.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
He kept walking, watching her at a distance, uncertain how to approach her, or even if he should. Somehow he just wanted to stay as he was, his eyes on her and his head filled with things he'd never thought about until this moment.
Ichigo didn't know it then, but his gaze, burning across the floor, didn't go unnoticed.
Renji had spotted Rukia come down the staircase, and he had been about to go over to her when he had seen Ichigo, out of the corner of his eye, setting down his glass and stepping forward slightly, his eyes filled with amazement. Renji had stopped then, feeling that somehow he couldn't cross the floor and break the connection of Ichigo's eyes on Rukia. Somehow, he felt that even trying would be doing something wrong. Ichigo's face had humbled him, and surprised him. He had never seen Ichigo look at anyone that way.
Matsumoto, unsurprised, had loosened her suffocating hug on Hitsugaya (allowing him to peel his face gratefully away from her cleavage), to nod her chin at Ichigo, grinning smugly.
"I saw that coming," she had said.
Anyone who'd ever seen Rukia and Ichigo together at all, even for just one conversation, noticed. Ichigo didn't hear the slight murmurs or see the sly looks: his eyes were filled with just one girl.
Byakuya, taking note of the ripple of talk through the crowd, had turned, ready to rip his sword out and cherry blossom that insolent boy to death, when he caught sight of Ichigo's expression. He was on the other side of the ballroom, but he still recognized a face like that, and he felt a stab in his side, where his wife should have been.
He had turned back to the group he had been talking to, resolving silently to give the boy a chance. If he could look at Rukia with that kind of awe in his eyes, maybe, just maybe, he deserved her.
Ichigo was as oblivious as always, but at least this time, he had an excuse, in the form of a girl who danced like she was music itself. He pushed through a few people, halving the distance between them, but as he drew nearer to her, he stopped, unsure how to proceed.
A waltz for the chance I should take
But how will I know where to start?
She's spinning between constellations and dreams
Her rhythm is my beating heart
How could he do this? He almost turned away, headed back, but he didn't want to lose sight of her even for a minute. Maybe it was better if he didn't talk to her, didn't try to touch her at all. Right now, she was too beautiful for him. He wasn't sure how to take this new Rukia, who was everything he'd always known, but at the same time different. Would she even want to dance with him?
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
But what if someone else asked her? What if someone else had also seen what he saw, and wanted to dance with her as well?
Ichigo clutched his head, his thoughts spinning. He'd faced so much with her and for her. He could do this.
I can't keep on watching forever
I'd give up this view just to tell her
He could see it in his mind now.
When I close my eyes I can see
The spotlights are bright on you and me
We've got the floor
And you're in my arms
How could I ask for more?
He opened his eyes, decided. He was going to ask her.
Ichigo started to move across the floor in determination, but just as he was getting closer, she turned, drifting pensively over to the wall. He dodged around a group of shinigami who had obviously had too much to drink, and spotted her ducking out through a small archway. He hesitated only briefly, then followed.
The archway led outside, where the warm night air was sweeping off of trees and brushing against his skin like the touch of fingers. Rukia was leaning on the railing of the balcony, just a few feet from him, her dress swirling down around her ankles. A few tendrils of hair had escaped from her updo and were dancing by themselves in the wind.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
She was a black outline against the moon, glowing brightly in the sky and bleaching everything a pearly white. She raised one hand, maybe to tuck her hair back behind her ear, and suddenly he had moved without realizing it, taking her hand in his own.
She glanced behind her up at him, her eyes wide and bottomless.
"Want to dance, Rukia?"
I can't keep on watching forever
And I'm givin' up this view just to tell her
"What?" she said quietly, surprise flashing across her face.
Ichigo knew he should've felt awkward, should've felt embarrassed, and nervous, and stupid, but out here, under the moon, he didn't feel any of that at all. He pulled her slowly to him, his free hand curving around her waist, his fingers entwining with hers.
"Don't you know how to dance?" he asked. The waltz was still playing, and he could almost hear his mother's voice in his mind, showing him the steps.
"Of course I do," she responded, already dancing with him, like silk.
They should've been bantering like normal. She should've called him an idiot by now. He should've said she was stupid. But neither of them seemed to be able to do anything but stare at each other, moving together as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Finally,
"Ichigo?" Rukia said softly, her fingers spreading across his shoulder until one slid against the bare skin of his neck.
The music was fading, and they slowed, until they were just swaying in place, arms around each other. Ichigo leaned down and slid his face next to hers until he could whisper in her ear.
"You're beautiful, you know."
She pushed away, her cheeks flushing red.
"You're lying."
"Am not," he laughed.
"Yes, you are!"
"I'm really not!"
"Yeah, well, prove it!"
He kissed her.
People might've said that he was too tall and she was too short, but had anyone passed by the archway at that moment and chanced to look out, they would've had to stop and marvel at the two silhouettes, there against the moon. Beautiful, they would've said it was.
He kissed her, and discovered that her mouth was as soft as it looked. She made a small noise that almost undid him, but then her hands were at his face and her lips were moving against his. Dancing.
I'm givin' up this view just to tell her.
AN: I'm not certain, but this may be the sappiest thing I've ever written. I apologize! I love sappy things! Preview of next drabble: Bust it!