Hindsight Revision
By: Yumi
Notes: I'll only rant once. I should be doing a million things other than writing, but that's just the "could, should, would, but didn't" crap again. Anyway, I'm new to the Bleach fandom (needed a Naruto break), so let me explain this thing.
This is an AU with drama and gang violence, really brash with lots of language, so don't read if you're sensitive. This isn't a jolly story, so I'll keep it real and trash the fairy tale notion for now. The goal is canon parallels is terms of character-relationship, originality in terms of plot, and relative IC in terms of character portrayal. And also, I'm not much of a fluff writer, but I'll give the characters their moments since Ichigo and Rukia made a sickening good couple. Now, before you ask: How many chapters? Depends, but the plot's figured out. Will I update regularly? Don't hold your breath, my work ethics are shitty (but I do write when inspiration hits). How's my grammar and spelling? I work with what my computer can pick up; I don't promise perfection, just effort. And, I appreciate reviews because they encourage me, but I won't be a whore about it. If you truly liked what I wrote and decide to drop a line, I'm thanking you ahead of time.
Calm and short first chapter. Gets moving from here on.
General Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. The standard applies.
Chapter 1: One Way Ticket
"Don't forget it, boy. Don't try to be a hero. No one ever wins that game."
Roughly rough slapping the wide-eyed boy on the back, Rukia stood up and surveyed the casualties. Several unconscious bodies lied adjacent to the boy now scrambling to pull his friend to his feet. Rukia sighed, straightening her uniform before starting to walk to school again. She glanced at her watch and frowned. She was going to be late. Was already late, for that matter. The teachers would let it slide since she was a good student. They praised her for her good work, sharp intellect, her clear eyes, and behind her back, they whispered their pities and sympathies for her. She was the new kid, the new kid who had no family, no friends, nothing.
She did not care. While she found their fussing annoying and unnecessary before, she was now indifferent to it all. She was used to it all. She had run a long way to get away from her past life, and now that she found some semblance of normality, she wanted to savor it and let it all go. She did not want to think about the fact that she was technically still running (in another sense) and was not safe and will probably never be.
As far as Rukia was concerned, bad things happened. It was just the way things turned out sometimes. She was tired of everything and just wanted to live her life without any more storms.
So she didn't particularly like fighting. Being good at it didn't mean she enjoyed it. If anything, it was just troublesome in the end, and she definitely had her fair share of that shit. Living in the streets for a few years made you grow up faster than any amount of schooling can. But if there's one thing Rukia didn't like, it was the strong picking on the weak. It was a fucked up world when the only people who could protect the weak were the strong, and yet the strong did all but the protecting.
But then again, why did the weak just stay weak? Why couldn't they fight back and prove themselves? Rukia sighed again.
Because it's not a perfect world, get over it.
Finally reaching school, mentally wondering if she should even bothering making up an excuse for being late. Her mind shrugged and suggested that she just tell the teacher that a group of no good idiots were picking on two victims and she had to go tell them off. But her logical half (usually the dominate half, thank God) told her that one, her teacher would never believe that a little petite girl of her size could manage a group of delinquents (and anyway, they thought she was a good girl), and two, why tell the truth when a simple lie could do the trick?
Changing into her shoe slippers, she quickly walked to her classroom and pushed the door open. Ukitake sensei immediately stopped his lesson and looked at the new arrival. Kuchiki Rukia gave a small bow before apologizing for being late. The class stared at her and so did her teacher. Strange. Sure, she was never late...but she was almost certain most of the class didn't even know her well enough to care if they knew she existed at all.
"Kuchiki san, are you alright?"
Rukia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Yes, I'm okay."
Her teacher looked at her with concern. Clearing his throat, he turned back to the class. "Okay, read from page 223 to 229." He strolled over to Rukia and bent down a bit. Rukia scowled inwardly, she was kind of short. "Kuchiki san, there's a bit of blood on your cheek."
Rukia immediately shot her hand up to her face to feel a sticky dry residue of blood. Oh, that would explain the stares. She probably got it on herself when she jammed her knee into that shithead's cheek.
"Are you being bullied?"
Rukia's features softened slightly. Even though she didn't like to play the pity game, she knew that this was a good man and genuinely cared for her well-being. She forced a smile to her face, she didn't need it to be known that she was the one doing the beating. "No, sensei. I accidentally cut myself making breakfast and probably smeared it on my face."
Ukitake raised one eyebrow as if to say he didn't really buy it, but decided to let it go anyway. He knew she wouldn't talk even if she was being bullied. The girl had spirit, he just didn't know how right he was. "Okay, if that's the case, go wash up and come back when you're done. You've got some reading to catch up with."
Rukia thanked her teacher before excusing herself to the restroom. How stupid of her to not feel the blood on her cheek. It wasn't a particularly a large smudge, but her skin was so pale that she guessed it was pretty obvious. Rounding the corner to the ladies' room, she ran into a hard surface and immediately jumped backward, giving a good amount of space between her and...a student?
Oops, over reaction.
Rukia looked at who ran into her (because obviously she didn't run into him) and kept her features neutral. It was that boy everyone talked about. She remembered his name, if only because it was so fruity sounding and such a stark contrast to his outward demeanor. Kurosaki Ichigo. Although Rukia wasn't one for gossip, it was hard to avoid overhearing conversations about the orange haired boy. He was famous, infamous, or whatever the mix was. The girls liked the bad-ass typ, or so they assumed he was, so they kept on chatting about how he was an amazing fighter, how he skipped class and did what he wanted, and how he was doing this and that. She didn't know how much of what she heard was true, considering how ridiculous some of the stories were.
And Rukia didn't really care except that it was only smart to keep a profile on potentially dangerous people. And she could tell this boy was not exactly her idea of chappy bunny. His eyes were hard and cold, colder than the eyes of a boy his age should have. But she shouldn't be the one talking. She couldn't judge him. She had no right. No desire to.
As Rukia was remembering the things associated with the name "Kurosaki Ichigo," the boy gave Rukia a good scrutinizing look. He was pretty sure he had never seen the girl before, but she was sort of interesting...how she rebounded off him with impressive reflex speed. Her eyes were sharp, and there was blood on her cheeks? He noted her short stature and how her lips were drawn to a closed line. She was looking at him as if she was trying to measure him up. He scowled as he gave a quick "'scuse me" before he walked around her to get to class. He didn't mind being late, but he didn't feel like talking to a (possibly and highly likely) squealing girl.
"You're excused."
He didn't know why he stopped, but Ichigo halted and tilted his head to look at the girl. Her voice was deep, much unexpected from a girl with a pretty face and small frame, and her stance was strong, with her arms crossed and her eyes sparkling with defiance. She gave him one last glare before she turned on her heel and walked away. Ichigo snickered quietly to himself before resuming his walk to his classroom.
What an annoying girl.
That was the first time they met. It was an interesting encounter that neither thought much about until eight months later when they met again.
He was scowling, quite irritated at how much blood she was losing.
She comments they were from two worlds. He agrees, nodding more to himself than to her. She thinks that while he likes to look forward to the future, she often dwells on the past. He shrugs; he notices this as well, but bad habits can be broken. She adds that they always walk different paths. He scoffs, wondering why it mattered if they ended up in the same place anyway.
-tbc