Title: Memories in the Fall
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing/Character: IchiRuki, IchiSen
Rating: PG
Summary: A heart is never touched the same way twice

Watching the branches outside the window as they waved and scratched at the clear pane of glass in the September wind, Rukia watched as one solitary red maple leaf rustled in the wind, waving slightly until a particularly strong gust yanked it's delicate stem from the branch to send the star-shaped piece of vegetation spiraling heavenward on an updraft, winging it's way in a capricious flight across the flawless blue of the sky.

Sighing inwardly, she felt the solid warmth of Ichigo's torso shift behind her, his arm around her waist tighten reflexively for a moment before slipping away with a fluid ease as the tall young man eased himself out from behind his smaller companion and out of the effective sandwich she had made with the cushion by climbing into his lap where they were both sitting in the small windowseat of their apartment. Leaning forward to make it easier for him to climb out of the corner, she glanced back over her shoulder at his face as she closed her manga and set the small paperback down beside her on the cushion.

She knew that look, recognized it even before he -- predictably, considering the fact that she'd seen him do it every fall for the last 4 years or so -- raised a hand to the back of his head to comb fingers somewhat awkwardly through orange hair as he tried to avoid her eyes as if by doing so the moment would somehow lose some of it's tension. It was the same look he always got in his eyes at the beginning of autumn, that look whenever the maple trees began dropping their crimson foliage into the wind. The look he always got whenever he thought about her

The subject of her was one they generally avoided, not because it was altogether unpleasent, but simply because it was hard to broach a subject when one party didn't remember and the other was woefully inadequate when it came to dealing with matters of emotion. In fact, Ichigo's difficulties with feelings were, at times, enough to make the smaller shinigami step back and wonder how in all the nine hells he'd ever even managed to admit his feelings to the point where they'd come to the current understanding between them.

He remembered, even though they both knew perfectly well that he shouldn't have. That their memories of the shinenjuu, of the girl named Senna, who had come with the autumn wind and left just as fleetingly, should have blown away along with the leaves once her physical form vanished as she rejoined with the blanks that one autumn night. It had been as she'd told him, regrettfully, that you couldn't remember someone who wasn't meant to exist in the first place. But whether Senna had been meant to exist or not, that didn't change the fact that she had.

Her existence was a matter of record, as were such details as her appearance, personality, and the events of those few days. Rukia had been part of those occurences and while memories may have vanished, the sterile data stored in Seireitei's libraries hadn't. And it was because of that data, that she understood what had happened. That the shinenjuu had existed, and that in her short span of time on earth, she had touched them all.

But she touched you most of all, Ichigo...

Curling her legs beneath her, she watched as her substitute -- silly to be calling him that now, he was her partner more than anything, and the way Yamamoto-taichou kept trying to convince him, it likely wouldn't be long before he joined the white-garbed ranks of the captains -- as he paced slightly, his shoulders squared as if to ward off her disapproval. Silly, really. Especially since she never even asked questions when he got like this, when he retreated somewhat inside himself for a few days. She didn't have to ask. It was easy enough to understand why.

Rolling her eyes slightly at his continued stalling -- that was what it was, after all. Ridiculous, really, they'd known each other for long enough to be far past the point of awkwardness, hell they'd shared the same bed for the last 2 years as well -- she cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Ichigo, you take care of things on your own tomorrow. I'm feeling like heading back to Soul Society for a couple of days for a visit."

It wasn't entirely a lie, the idea of a visit did pique her interests, but it only took a moment for her to note the dawning comprehension in his eyes, the flash of gratitude before they disappeared behind his usual half-irritated scowl as he ran a hand through orange hair with a martyred look.

"Fine, why the hell do you want to go back there for anyway? They better not try to make you stay this time, dammit..."

She couldn't help but smile a bit as the tension evaporated and things went back to normal. Normal was... comforting. Glancing up as he tugged his coat off of the rack, she shook her head when he asked -- reluctantly, and more out of simple politeness than a real desire for company -- if she wanted to go for a walk, instead picking up her manga as he slipped out the door. Turning, she watched out the window as his tall figure, orange hair topping the dark navy of his coat, headed off alone down the street. As she watched, another maple leaf slipped from the tree, landing on the windowsill outside with a gentle gust of wind, the edges moving ever so slightly with the air currents as she watched it.

I wonder if you ever knew. Knew how much you touched him, how much you meant to him. I hope you did...

Even as the thought drifted through her mind, she couldn't help but be struck by how strange it would have seemed -- at least to most people -- for her to be thinking of the girl who had touched the heart of the man she loved that way. But then, a heart wasn't something so frugally given or received. It was true, she had touched Ichigo's heart, and if one wanted to be technical, she'd won that heart for her own, a gift she still at times couldn't quite fathom herself as being deserving of. But deserving or not, he had given it freely, as she had given him hers. Yet in spite of that, there had been others in her life, others who had carved their own marks onto her soul and whose influence would forever stay with her.

She wasn't going to say that it was easy to accept, easy to deal with the knowledge that there was a portion of his heart, a piece of his soul, that she could never touch. But no one had ever said love was supposed to be easy. And while she never doubted that he loved her, never failed to believe it when he'd hold her close at night, with her head tucked beneath his chin, and murmer her name in his sleep, neither could she escape that one undeniable fact.

As much as Kurosaki Ichigo may have loved her, as much as he did love her.... he'd loved Senna too.

Watching as the wind picked up, catching the maple leaf and sending it spinning off the sill and into the air beyond, she let her eyes drift to the solitary street for a moment before turning her gaze to watch the small mote of red as it danced in the updrafts, a small smile on her face. He would be back, but for now... she would leave him in peace with his memories, watching the leaf blow.

Take care of that piece of his heart. It was always yours, you know. So you keep it safe. I'll take care of the rest.

Smiling as she turned back to her manga, for an instant she could have sworn she heard the faint sound of chimes, carried on the wind.