Title: Pieces of MyAutobiography
Summary: AU Rukia is a beauty with power, men want her, women worship her and world leaders want her opinion but then she hits a wall that she cannot pass. Where is the fairy tale she always wanted? IchiRuki.
Shalan's Say: Uhm… to be honest I am deathly sick today… I HATE CHINESE FOOD IT MAKES ME SICK EVERYTIME I EAT IT! Anyways… I was cleaning and listening to Ashlee Simpson and suddenly this happened upon me… I think it should be good… at least… I hope it will be…
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach… however I do own Kazumi and this awesome little thingy called a TIDE PEN… it's pretty awesome you should get one… scrubs a spot on shirt with pen
Chapter: The Trouble Begins
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A sweet melodious song trembled through the room. The lulling tones of Micheal Buble invaded the pile of blankets on the king sized bed. A corner of a blanket lifted up, an azure eye adjusting to see the time on the dimly lit digital clock face. Emerging, like a cautious and timid hermit crab, a manicured hand slid its way across the oak bedside table. A French tipped nail clicked against a vibrating Crimson Palm Treo 680. Her fingers brushed the little object then gripped, quickly retreating back under the burrow of blankets and pillows.
"No one I know would call me this early…" an 'I'm too grumpy to talk to you' voice spoke. The warm skin her arm brushed against trembled lightly and unconsciously.
"Kazumi!" The voice sounded either frightened or terribly excited. "Kazumi! I NEED you!" Okay… so she was frightened.
"Calm down and explain yourself…" The red haired woman sat up, stretching her arms above her head as far as they would go.
"You're my publicist you're supposed to explain things to me!" The woman on the other line practically shouted.
"What are you rambling about you OCD stricken hypochondria ridden psychopath?" Kazumi folded her legs Indian style, running a hand through her hair.
"I'm none of those things!" The other voice complained.
"Then explain to me why you are calling me a-a-a-at 3:30 in the morning…" Kazumi yawned as movement from the pile of blankets began again. A hand ran out from beneath the sheets and up her thigh to rest its fingers near the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
"Because! I don't have anything to do tomorrow!" Kazumi dropped back onto the bed and tossed the phone across the room. "KAZUMI! KAZUMI!" She heard a faint voice from across the room as she buried herself beneath the sheets again into the welcoming arms of her bedmate.
"What's goin' o'?" The baritone of his voice trembling in her ears. She shook her head as he kissed her tenderly.
"How am I supposed to answer you when my mouth is busy?" She laughed just before he pinned her to the bed.
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The raven-haired woman stared at her phone angrily then tossed it across the room into the wastebasket. She mumbled something under her breath then looked back at the empty schedule for the next day. Mournfully she stood up and meandered into her kitchen and opened the fridge slowly. "Nothing to do in here…" the petite brunette banged her head against the door after she closed it, leaving forehead prints on the shiny mirrored surface.
Her eyes drifted across the modernly furnished room, across the black leather couch, loveseat and recliner. The 50 inch flat screen that was attached to the wall above her DVD player, surround sound system and DIRECTV receiver reflected her face back at her and she frowned. It was 4:30 in the morning in New York City and she was already upset.
"There HAS to be something I can do today…" She told her reflection in the television. The brunette's hair was perfect, a single strand of the sleek black hair hung across her face, her indigo blue eyes flared with anger as she stared at herself a few minutes longer. Dressed in a tight black long sleeved shirt and a pair of light grey sweat pants the pretty young woman looked like she was ready for bed but the fact that for the first time in her life she had an ENTIRE day with nothing scheduled… it was awkward for her… therefore… she knew Kazumi must have screwed up somewhere… the woman who was supposed to be her best friend and her PR was failing her.
"Then I guess if I have nothing to do… I'll just… go out…" Her lips pursed. She puffed her chest out with a 'huff' and smiled lightly.
She was beautiful, she was spunky, she was opinionated and she was usually right.
Rukia Kuchiki was a former lawyer turned writer. Her 5.0 from Brearly School for Girls in New York County, New York entered her into Harvard Law School at 15. She graduated at 19 from Harvard and entered the law community, quickly working her way up the prosecuting attorney ranks. The moment she turned 21 she inherited the large sum of money that her parents had left her when they died making her net worth somewhere near 34.5 million dollars, with only 12 million dollars being inherited money.
Soon after she was wanted on every TV show from CNN to MSNBC to FOX for her own television show, she was asked to appear on some of the hottest television shows from Oprah to Larry King and she was worshipped by the modern woman who believed in working and not relying on a man for their lives.
She was written about in People and Time as well as the National Enquirer, she was the woman everyone wanted to be, the woman everyone wanted to see. She was speculated, venerated, degraded and praised. She was a hard hitting woman with a head of her own, publishing several books in two years and beginning her own line of petite shoes and clothes.
She was a socialite with manners to boot, she was the polite young woman that everyone wanted to see… and she was heading a campaign that spoke of Women's Rights and had 'freedom fighter' written all over it. She argued that a woman was free to make her choice, that the double standards that existed should be erased, that public figures should realize that their personal privacy is not something they have to give away if they don't want to.
She was sought after, she was stalked, she was hot, she was single. She hated, she was hated, she loved and she was loved. But the person that no one saw was the woman that wanted everything, the woman who was disorganized, the face of the woman who stayed at home in sweatpants and drank homemade coffee… no they saw the together, the clear headed, the beautifully tailored, the beautifully groomed Rukia Kuchiki. They saw the person that she wanted them to see.
But there was something missing from her high powered lifestyle. Something that she hadn't realized until that very night. Something that was very wrong in her life. As she sat before the blank Word document her eyes grew weary. Where was the fairy tale life she had always dreamed of? Where was the husband and the children that she had wanted when she was 15? Where was the human being that slept next to her and whispered in her ear? Where was the prince charming that thundered through her veins and seethed in her belly? What had happened to the warmth that she had always wanted?
And as she stared at the screen her cold exterior began to melt… and slowly turned into tears that streamed down her face and into her lap. Where was the life that she could write about? She wondered as her eyes stared at the screen. What was she supposed to tell the world? What?
Rukia Kuchiki: An Autobiography
What was her autobiography?
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"Rukia I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about…" Kazumi sipped her coffee as she propped her feet up on the kitchen table that stood within her polished kitchen. The black haired man that stood across the room from her looked over, leaning against the kitchen counter. His piercing cerulean eyes watched her as he sipped from his own mug of coffee. The muscles of his abdomen rippled as he straightened up. The woman across the kitchen from him lifted an eyebrow over her laptop screen at him and tilted her head as she took another drink from the French roast coffee.
"Listen Kazumi… I can't write the autobiography… I'm sorry…" Rukia sighed over the phone and Kazumi lifted an eyebrow again as she clicked on the organizer button on her computer.
"But why? It's your life… just write about your life… please I promised the publisher that you would have it done by next month…" Kazumi leaned back from the table as the man across the room tilted his head back.
"Kazumi I just can't do it right now… sorry… listen I'm going out to shop… if you want to come with then just meet me at my apartment in two hours if not then I'll go out by myself and call you back later." Rukia hung up and Kazumi looked over at the other.
"So she's not going to write it?" The deep baritone spoke again. Uryu Ishida straightened up from leaning his hip against the countertop. The editor-in-chief of the New York Times walked over to his wife slowly and she pursed her lips.
"Nope… she's being stupid about it…" she frowned. The red head wore a pair of rolled plaid pajama bottoms and a white cami-tank beneath a cream colored cardigan that was unbuttoned and hanging from her arms as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"Why don't we invite her to come with us to that Christmas party Kaz?" his lips brushed her neck as his arms made their way around her abdomen, his fingers coming to rest on the keyboard of her Mac. She shrugged.
"She won't do it… she's got to be doing something on Christmas… c'mon Uryu get real…" Kazumi leaned back against the chair and against his shoulder, holding the broad mug in both hands.
"Well you never know… maybe this confusion of her will be a good thing don't you think?" Uryu smiled lightly and Kazumi frowned again.
"A good thing? No… if that girl's confused then everyone in the world is going to fall apart because their beloved hero can't fall apart before their eyes." The woman sighed again and his lips brushed her jaw.
"I hate it when you sigh… it just sounds so… boring…" his eyes twinkled from behind the rectangular glasses he wore in the mornings and evenings.
"I hate it when you complain… it just sounds so… unintelligent…" Kazumi snatched his glasses off his face and retreated into the other room before he could even start.
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Uhm… how was that for a good start? I have the second chapter written and I will probably post it later today if you guys want it… I like this one… I hope I can stick to it… Somewhere will be updated soon… I hope and the others… Apost and The Best will be updated when I can moved my 'stiff from the cold' fingers towards that folder to post them… XD
Shalanhe Trouble