Note: One of Rukia's favorite foods are rice dumplings.
"You never visited."
That's what he would tell her.
Ichigo currently sat on the crumpled sheets of his bed, arm resting on his knee as he looked out the window, the fading yellow sunlight glowing through the glass. His eyes were looking towards the heavens, but they held that faraway unfocused light that signaled that while his physical body was in his room, his thoughts were elsewhere.
At the moment, they were at a place he often preferred not to let his mind wander to. A place that his thoughts constantly edged towards, but he stopped them just in time, pushing back the urge into the very back of his mind with what had become almost an automatic reaction. But at the same time, the thought was always there, laying still, latent just beneath the surface of his consciousness. Now was one of the rare moments where he allowed those thoughts to inch forward into the light of his mind.
And he was thinking of what he would tell her the next time he saw her.
He wasn't thinking of how long it had been since he saw her (which were exactly eight months and twenty-two days- but who was keeping count). He also wasn't thinking of how it was most likely that the next time he saw her would be when he finally crossed over into his next life. And he certainly wasn't thinking that he wished to see her- no, that was an absurd thought in itself.
He was thinking of something far more practical, something that was the only reason for any uncomfortable feeling that he might have been having for the past eight months and twenty-two days.
He was thinking that he was annoyed.
And reasonably so. He was annoyed that she'd never appeared. How much did it cost, really, to stick her sword in the air and open up a gate to travel to his world, grab a gigai and take a short walk to the little Kurosaki clinic? Was she just too busy with her oh-so-important reaping duties that she didn't even remember her old friends?
Poor Inoue was probably starting to get worried; knowing her she'd probably come up with some out-there gruesome story involving deadly Hollow-Robot hybrids out to get the Soul Society or something. And Ishida never mentioned it, but Ichigo was fairly sure that the Quincy was just itching for someone in need of mortal clothes to be sown for. Even Chad; well he was always quiet, but every once in a while he gave Ichigo these sideway glances before looking away and lowering his head; he was obviously wondering why the girl he'd gone all the way to Soul Society and risked his life for hadn't even bothered to come for a quick drink or something to his apartment and seen how the big guy was doing after all.
Then there were his Dad and Yuzu. They never mentioned anything, almost like it was taboo for them, but Ichigo still remembered how warmly they'd welcomed the petite nuisance into the family. His Dad had proclaimed her to be his 'third daughter' and Yuzu had been ecstatic to have a new sister. Didn't they merit a quick visit after such hospitality? Wasn't she thinking about their feelings? Delicate Yuzu was too polite to say anything, but she was surely heartbroken.
How could she be so ungrateful to all the people who loved her so much?
No, Ichigo wasn't mad or frustrated for any personal reasons. He was simply annoyed that after everything Rukia and these people had gone through, she could just disappear from their lives like that, without a trace. Without even giving them any sign that she was alright, so that they wouldn't have to worry needlessly.
So the next time he saw her, he'd definitely be giving her a piece of his mind. He'd make her account for her actions, for leaving so many people missing her deeply and not bothering to give them even one meager visit.
Him? Ichigo himself could care less. Any source of uneasy feelings was exclusively for those affected around him, no more.
He'd be teaching that brat some manners the next time he saw her.
The orange-haired man was brought out of his musings by the feel of a liquid drop falling lightly on his arm. He blinked in surprise and looked at it before feeling the warm trails on his cheeks. He moved to quickly wipe away any evidence of it being there.
"Ichi-nii! I'm making dinner!" Yuzu's muffled voice called from the other side of the door. "Would you like anything?"
Ichigo waited a moment before answering, clearing his throat from some pesky roughness before calling out. "Just rice dumplings will do."
"Rice dumplings? Again?"
"Yeah." Ichigo said almost to himself, looking down at his hands before staring out the window again. "That'll be fine."
There was a moment of silence from outside the door and Ichigo almost thought that Yuzu had left before she called out an "Okay then!" and her footsteps resounded as she bounded away.
Ichigo let out a long weary sigh. "She would have liked you to visit, ya' know." He spoke into the empty room, letting his imagination produce the silhouette of a petite and dark-haired girl in black robes. His voice was hardly above a whisper. "That's not too much to ask for."
Just as he stepped towards the door, before his hand reached the doorknob, he spoke again; and when he did, his voice sounded strangely choked. "You could even come see me…"
He paused, swallowing back the tightness in his throat- he must have been getting a cold soon.
"I'd tell everyone that you're okay." He spoke. "Then maybe they'll stop looking at me with those sad faces all the time."
A/N: If you didn't get it, it was basically Ichigo in denial about missing Rukia and projecting all his emo feelings onto his friends and family. If you've read the recent arc of the manga, you'll be able to see where this is coming from.
Wow, I think this is the shortest piece I've ever written. xD And it was angst again...Sorry, I didn't want to go for angst again, but the recent chapters (and the release of the volume 49 poem!) make it hard to ignore the depressing emotions lol