Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach and I own this story.
1. Gray Stained Clouds
Pairing: One-sided RenxRuki
AN: My first shot at Bleach! Please leave a comment if possible. I appreciate any constructive criticism. This is something that I imagined taking place after ch 181.
Gray stained clouds smear dimness across the sky. It rains again, its droplets pattering on the world below. The precipitation dots the ground, then connecting as the sky continues to brim over. Every corner resonates with its sound of sush sush and plink plank.
It is nearly a black ink night, save for the ivory tower that juts through the sky and his blazing red umbrella (that goes with his blazing red hair and every other brazen thing about him). He walks beyond the borders of the city and scans the formidably shadowed landscape. His intense eyes search for the severe black tresses and the willowy frame.
For a moment, he thinks he has lost sight of her in this dark surrounding. Then he sees the pale yellow sash cinching her slender waist. He muses on her attire. How difficult she's made things for him by adorning a charcoal colored robe, as if planning to blend in with the night and maybe disappear. His annoyance soon fades when he notices how her sleeves droop to the side, its fabric heavy from the wetness. The base of her yukata clings to her skinny ankles. The usually buoyant locks are now matted against her skull; he realizes for the first time, the way in which her skull is dainty like the rest of her body.
What the hell is she doing out in this weather? And in the middle of the night?
The girl appears to be searching for something in the air. Or mourning after its loss. Whatever it is. Whoever it is.
He walks to her and holds the umbrella over her head. It doesn't take much of a stretch for his arms; she is significantly shorter than him.
She idly turns and faces him with her childishly wide eyes. A bead of rain had landed on the wispy tips of her thick lashes, so she simply blinks it off. Strands of hair graze over her eyes in a familiar manner. When he sees it, his fingers nearly act on impulse, remembering how they always felt bothered by the way her bangs must get into her eyes. He never did anything about them before; he certainly was not going to do anything about it now. Especially not now.
"Rukia, are you trying to catch pneumonia? A ridiculous way to die after all the trouble in saving you." His voice comes out gruffer than he intended.
"Renji…" she whispers after she averts her eyes. He hates the absence of her usual spunk. He hates the non-existent surprise in her response. Instead, her voice is stifled from by ill-concealed disappointment in seeing him appear.
"Really? What the hell you doing here, staring off like that? Didn't you do enough of that while you were locked up?"
She persists on staring at the ground.
"I had to look all over the place for you. This was really the last place I'd ever think you'd be. You're lucky too, if I didn't stumble here by chance, you would have probably slept out in the rain."
"I was going to go back anyway. It's not like I don't know the way."
"Che! You've been gone from soul society so long, I didn't doubt that you could've forgotten your way around here." Rukia doesn't reply, making Renji wonder if he should suppress his probing. Maybe he should learn to let it slide for once.
So he does, crushing his interrogative tendencies and permitting his questions to go unanswered. "Let's walk back already."
She nods her head softly instead of answering with words.
In that instant, he fully realizes the distance in between them. Because there is no reactive astonishment in seeing him there. Because the way he had perused the entire city for her created little significance for Rukia. She has set aside some empty spaces inside her heart, he surmises.
And they are not meant to be filled by him.
He scoffs to himself. How absurd that more things could change in the span of a few months than the fifty years he knew her. He tried to deny it for some time, despite the reality boring into him each time he encountered her. It became painfully clear the day he left.
That orange-headed brat.
Somehow he did it. Pushed Renji into a secondary role and emerged himself as the hero—the hero to Renji's princess.
And what was more irritating was the fact that that Kurosaki Ichigo was sincere. He had genuinely wagered his life to protect Rukia—all while Renji scrambled to figure out which side Renji belonged on (if only he had been resolute since the beginning).
Perhaps the only brat is Renji.
But yes, back to the day Ichigo left. He had watched the two exchange their goodbyes, himself growing vexed at the thought that such simple and common words could carry out with so much intimacy. They seemed branded to a private world, the way they smiled and thanked each other. Just the two of them, understanding a language so foreign to others. How left out Renji felt, like someone looking in from the outside, seeing only the movements of lips, and uncomprehending the words exchanged.
How transparent it is now, the rate Rukia and Renji's relationship deteriorated.
It's not over though. He's resolved to saw off the rotting pieces and cultivate the small fragments—wherever there remains a chance.
While sharing the umbrella, they walk back together, wordlessly, as the rain begins to plunge down like pellets.
The moment he let her drift away was a mistake, but Abarai Renji will once again, hold fiercely what he loves. He won't abandon things of importance this time.
---Aug 26, 2005