Author's note: This piece is for my wonderful friend Sunbeamsoph's birthday. Thank you for everything!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.
For Ichigo, time is divided into three parts. The first part is the time of his childhood, his mother's kisses, clear skies and no troubles in the world. The second part is the constant rain part. The time after his mother died and all days blurred together. There are no colours in this part, everything is grey, the fog clouding every emotion and action he has. This part seems the longest for he is nothing but numb, a machine going over the same chores over and over again.
Then one day, the light comes back. This is the third part, the Rukia-stopped-the-rain-part. It is just a normal grey day, and then he sees her, he fight with her, and she gives him what he has been unconsciously wishing for all this time; a way to protect those he love.
She is annoying, loud, bossy and so many other things that drive him mad, but after she has stayed one week in his closet – the fact that she is so tiny she can fit in there is more heart-warming than he would like to admit – he can't imagine a life without her.
They fight of course, their personalities makes it impossible not to, but there is familiarity, comfort in the bantering that makes Ichigo smile – even though she seconds ago punched him in the face.
And now, after going to rescue her in Soul Society, he has gone back to part two. It's not as bad as before, there is still a sense of life within him, but he feels like there is a big part missing in him. He finds himself staring at the closet before sleep, he stares at her old seat in class, and he tells himself that it is enough, he has had enough. But it is not enough.
Then, on one of those same grey days as when they first met, she is there. He is vaguely aware that others has come as well, but once he head his name being called in that oh so familiar voice, there is nothing else. He says her name, it sounds starved, the way he says it, but she is standing there in the window, looking as fierce as the last time he saw her. There is a moment of shock and then she yells at him, for his pathetic face, and they are out of the school, looking for a hollow and it is as if she never left at all.
She makes him realize how far he has fallen in the time she was gone. He thought he had been better, had been trying harder, but the relief in his friends eyes after he and Rukia come back are palpable. He vows that he will be better this time, and it is easy now, with the person who stopped the rain beside him.
She is not here to make up for old times of course, Aizen is still out there, and there is danger lurking behind every corner. It should make him worry, make him fear for his life, but he is comfortably at ease, there is a purpose, he can be useful. And he is not alone.
He is alone now, though. In the ruckus that started when everyone tried to find somewhere to stay, Rukia had ended up not in his closet, but in a room down the hall. It is ridiculous, he thinks to himself, she is right here, in his house, who cares if she isn't sleeping where he can hear her soft breaths or her slight turning inside the closet? Yes, it is ridiculous. And yet he can't fall asleep. He lays there, in his familiar bed, in his familiar room, in his familiar house, and he feels out of place without her slight snoring coming out of the closet.
This is where he should just admit to himself what is really going on. That all he feels for her might not be friendship. But there are too many uncertainties there, and besides, he doesn't even now she feels the same way. She probably doesn't, she has lived for so many more years than him, seen so many more things than him – she probably sees him as a child. He almost laughs out loud for even entertaining the thought of her liking him more than a friend before the weight settles in his stomach again. He needs to think of something other than her infectious laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she sees something she likes (most often Chappy), the way she smells when he is close enough to have the scent blurring his mind, her small body fitting perfectly beside his, her head tucked perfectly under his.
All of the sudden the empty space in his bed – which technically is a single bed so it isn't much – felt unnecessary, a gaping hole matching the one in his body whenever Rukia isn't with him. Ichigo wants her close, close enough to smell her hair, pressed up against his side where she fit so perfectly. One part of his body particularly liked that train of thought, but this wasn't even about that sort of intimacy. This went deeper, on a soulmate level, he didn't care if she was his friend or whatever – if only she was with him, always.
Suddenly coming to a decision Ichigo bolts up from the bed and quickly strides out of his room. The hallway outside is dark and quiet, save from the snores coming from his father's room, everyone is probably asleep right now. Ichigo stops outside Rukia's room and presses an ear to the door to see if he can make out the sounds of her breathing. He hears it – almost too well – as if she is standing pressed up against the door on the other side, going over the same train of thought he has. Perhaps she is standing there, on her way to him, his bed, having the same need to be with each other as he has.
For a moment he imagines himself opening the door to find her startled – but happy – face on the other side, her emotions for him clear on her face. How he would take her significantly smaller hand and lead her back to his room where she belong, tucking her against his side, spooning under the blanket. They would not say anything – words never has been necessary between the two of them – and then they would simply fall asleep, as easy as breathing, their breaths synced and calmed.
Embarrassed Ichigo almost laughs out loud again to his foolish mind – and his foolish heart for wanting to believe it. It's hopeless, she would never do such a thing, such an obvious action to engage closeness. He let the hand he had put on the door handle fall to his side and quickly returns to his empty room. He doesn't fall asleep at all that night.
On the other side of Rukia's door a very torn Shinigami is standing, weighing the decisions against each other. She could have sworn she felt Ichigo coming towards her room, and she had bolted from her bed in seconds. She hadn't been able to sleep anyway, the room far too quiet without the comforting snores coming from Ichigo. She had lost herself in her thinking of whatever could have caused his action. When she finally gathers her courage and opens the door the hallway lays silent and vacated. Feeling her heart sink in her chest she closes the door and curses her mind for ever thinking Ichigo missed her the same way she did.