Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach. 'Nuff said.
Summary: They were mere strangers, acquaintances at best. He was abandoned. She was injured. After a rescue by the 10th division captain, her world transforms once more. HitsuRuki
AN: Been busy for a while, but I just couldn't stop this plot bunny. :D More abstract than I planned for the first chapter. The following chapters will probably follow a different format.
Destroy My World of Ice
Snow, lots of snow.
The frost filled her world of ice.
The white was intimidating; and for an instant, she believed it would engulf her completely until nothing was left...
She had been stupid. She should have faded away into the background of white…
But she didn't.
It isn't supposed to have happened.
The times they had seen each other, Rukia could count with one hand. And, all those times, they are never alone. There is always a barrier of people that surrounds them. Static that fills the room, static that prevents her from ever talking to him.
They are mere strangers, acquaintances at best.
He is a captain, a prodigy.
She is an unseated officer, unskilled and struggling.
The only similarity they is the type of blade both wield.
Ice.
And that they are on the same side of this doomed Winter War.
That is it.
That is the only reason she can stand on this field of ice unharmed and not be ripped to shreds while the others, the Arrancar, are not so lucky.
Because she is on Histugaya's Toushiro's side.
"Don't just stand there, Kuchiki!"
His voice. It is familiar yet foreign at the same time. Nevertheless, the ice wielder snaps to her senses, widening her eyes. She knows that she had spent the last few moments gaping at the changing scenery while the other was fighting.
It is so weird.
She was with Ichigo, but somehow, they were separated. In an odd chain of cause and effect, she manages to find Hitsugaya. There had been no talk, no idle chatter. They simply join one another, in this brutal war. There is no other choice.
"Why are you still there, Kuchiki? Fight!"
She gets up, stepping into the air and unsheathing her own ice zanpakutou. She is painfully aware of the gnawing pain in her stomach. She loses focus.
Ice blade meets ice blade.
"What are you doing, Kuchiki?!"
He questions her motives. Why?
"Attack the hollows, not me!"
The petite shinigami stops, grabbing tightly on the hilt of her blade with shaking hands. She tries to explain that she didn't mean it, but no words can escape from her throat. Confusion fills her thoughts. The white-haired captain looks at her with disdain and turns back to his enemies. He has no time to argue with a near-stranger.
It was obvious that there was no relation between the two, but why…
"If you do not want to fight, get out of the way! I should be attacking them, not saving you while you stand idle, Kuchiki!"
Silence. The Kuchiki heiress remains still, staring off into the distance. Her eyes are dull; the lifeless gleam of a doll is apparent now.
The blood drips from her uniform, freezing on the surface of the frozen earth. The drops of frozen blood bounce on the frozen surface.
It is too late.
She falls to the ground.
The clock continues to tick.
It won't stop.
Though they are mere strangers, acquaintances at best, he still jumps to her side, holding her up.
"Oi, you alright, Kuchiki?!"
She does not answer. Merely, she tries her best to stand up once more, to stand on her own two feet. When she talks it is a bare whisper, almost like the extra static of a television. Toshirou lowers his head to her face, so that he may hear her precious words.
White hair meets black hair.
He jumps suddenly. A hollow has breached through the ice barrier. His eyes widen in shock. Soon, he brings them up in the air again. Rukia winces at the movement and she clutches the bloodied spot of her clothing tightly.
The male mutters out an apology, but he does not leave her on the cold ground. Instead, he holds her tight.
Despite the fact that he was an ice-wielder, one that froze the hearts of everybody, she felt warmth. It was strange. He is so warm to her…
They were supposed to be mere strangers, acquaintances at best.
"Kuchiki, hold on! Almost done with these…"
He holds out his blade. Immediately, a hint of ice begins to form at the tip. It is not before long before the frost forms on the metal. Unlike most blades, Hitsugaya's blade is resistant to the cold. The great dragon spirit of his blade appears once more. The area is cleared in matter of seconds, but not before long. The monsters will come again.
He cannot falter. She needs his help.
He holds her closer, trying hard to not wince at what seemed to be like hugging an ice cube. He knows that she cannot be in the cold too long, not with her wounds.
"Where's Kurosaki? Hasn't he promise to protect you?"
She smiles through gritted teeth, shaking her head. A stranger should have thought that she was saying that Ichigo failed to protect her, but Hitsugaya knows. She wants to say it was not the orange-haired human's fault, that it was her own fault.
The words never left her mouth, but Hitsugaya knows.
She is a pure soul. That is what he thinks. The look in her eyes tells him that. It also tells him that she shouldn't die. Not yet.
"Hold on." His voice is firm, as is his resolute. He will not fail her. The prodigy of Soul Society is fast on his feet. The landscape is only a blur now for the two of them. It is almost as if that time itself has stopped.
"Hold on." He repeats his words again, as if time would stop if he did.
Instinctively, she clutches his sleeve. It does not matter who is holding her, but that someone is holding her.
Little by little, they begin to enter each other's forlorn frozen world.
He continues to skid in the cold atmosphere. He hopes that she knows that he will not let her die, not so easily.
They do not know, but their zanpakutou are connected, two hearts entwined even before the first meeting. The other's heart already with the other before every meeting…
Meanwhile, the battle still rages on in the little town of Karakura. It is still not over. Hitsugaya understands this, but he feels that it is impossible to abandon the person in his arms, to simply discard her like a useless object.
He realizes that they are similar. After all, when was the last time he has heard that someone else has the ability to call upon ice?
He had the strongest ice zanpakutou.
She had the most beautiful ice zanpakutou.
That is when he finally heard her lovely voice.
She calls his name "Taicho". Her words are slow, as if every word had to be squeezed out of her mouth. Her cheeks were so cold…so pale. Even her lips begin to lose their vivid color. She is dying; Hitsugaya knows this and he only blames himself that he cannot go any faster.
But he shouldn't be caring.
She whispers that he should leave her here, that he should be saving the others. Her voice is sad, pitiful almost.
Ah, she is a selfless one. It angers him. Why? Why does it anger him? He does not know, but he does not release his gentle hold on her body. He refuses to listen to her suicidal instructions. Too many souls had been lost to the war. She did not need to contribute to the already growing number.
So, to her words, he retaliates, stating that there was no way in hell that he was going to leave a subordinate in the snow to freeze to death. He winces. The ice and blood of the Kuchiki are mixed together, sticking tightly to her skin. In a grotesque sense, she looks like a frozen doll.
He shakes his head and continues his steps. No second should be lost.
She mutters that she is useless, that she wasn't able to protect herself, that she wasn't able to protect Ichigo, Orihime, Ishida, Chad, and Renji.
The white-haired captain responds with a shake of the head, telling her to shut up and save her strength. But Rukia never hears it. The hands that were clutching the wound near her stomach fall limp. Her eyes became a dull violet, remaining open to the world.
It unnerves Hitsugaya. He never likes seeing this type of thing. He hurries his steps. Eventually, they make it back to the damn sandal hat's shop. That woman should have been there, the one with orange hair and a similar…figure to Matsumoto. She had those hair clips of hers, he remembers. They were able to heal any wound.
He looked down to the weak figure of a girl sleeping idly in his arms. Would she be healed?
He pushes past the doors, never bothering to slip his sandals off at the front. That could come later, when he was certain that the shinigami woman was alright…
"Urahara-san!" Where was that damn sandal hat? Couldn't he see the bleeding girl in his hands? She groans softly. Hitsugaya signs in relief. She is not dead yet, but not for long.
Damn sandal hat.
The atmosphere appears to be warmer than the outside.
Damn damn damn.
The blood and ice were both melting. In a few seconds, she would continue to bleed profoundly. He remembers Kido, but he also remembers that it was not his strong subject. Sword fighting was.
Damn the world.
Where was a healer when you needed one?
"Urahara, where's that girl?!"
He rushes to the man, but with a careful stride. He is awfully aware of the girl that is awake in his arms. The damn sandal hat responds with a nonchalant answer to his frantic question.
What. The. Hell.
This is supposed to be the designated healing area. That woman is supposed to be here. He stares at the bundle in his arms. He runs his hand over her forehead.
Cold.
He turns to the door, ready to leave. That woman must have been elsewhere…The shop-owner stops him, saying that "Orihime" was here and that he should stop worrying. Normally, the captain would have responded with a bitter answer, but not this time.
He rushes the bundle of a girl to the room Urahara points at. The healing girl is in there, sitting uncomfortably. Beads of sweat run down her face. It is obvious she is tired, exhausted beyond her limits in healing everybody.
"Heal her."
It is a command. He felt like a captain again.
Orihime nods; the Kuchiki is her friend. She would have not refused. The girl calls her magical hairclips into action and immediately, the healing shield surrounds the bleeding shinigami.
At this point, Hitsugaya knows that it is time to leave. He needs to continue the fight, to prevent any more accidents like Kuchiki.
"Thank you…" The words come out of her mouth. They are audible for the first time. Her hand reaches out to him, but fall short.
He does not look at her.
After all, they are mere strangers.
"Get some rest, Kuchiki."
…Maybe she couldn't count with only one hand now, the times they met.
She closes her eyes.
Sleep.