Author's Note: A short drabble set around the beginning of the Soul Society arc, shortly before Rukia decides to leave Ichigo and return to Soul Society on her own – can't remember which episode it was though '. Inspired by the following quote:
He feels it die, I heard her cry
Like the scream of a butterfly…
Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of its respective creators and distributors. The author of this story (in other words, me o) does not intend any copyright infringement whatsoever.
Withering Away
He knows that something's wrong. He sees it. He feels it. There's something awkward in the air. Something foreboding. Something dark. It's like a thick curtain has fallen between them, through which he can only catch a glimpse of her every now and then – and he hates the displays that he witnesses at those times. That longing etched into every feature of her still childish face. Those large, unblinking eyes that seem to gaze upon a distant time and place, a time and place that he can't even begin to grasp. A glint of some discomfited feeling – anticipation? fear? – that shows at times. There's no mistaking it. Something is very wrong.
At other times, she seems not to have changed at all – still smiling pleasantly and making ridiculously agreeable remarks at school, still bickering with him about one thing or another, and even showing off her childish doodles of awkward-looking bunnies from time to time. But underneath all this he perceives nothing – it's like she's built an impenetrable carapace around the thin and fragile soul that seems to cower deep within. What does she dread? Why all this masquerade? He doesn't know. And gradually, he feels overcome by a looming sense of foreboding that seems to grow by the day.
He tries to confront her about it all. God knows he tries. He longs to ask her what's wrong, to assure her that everything will be all right, to comfort her. But in some way, he simply can't bring himself to utter the words. He doubts she'd answer him anyway. And yet he yearns to show her that he cares, to let her know that he'll be by her side no matter what. Would that ease her anxiety? Or would it make her even more distant, even more secluded in her own little shell? Again, he doesn't know. And in some twisted way, he fears that she might give up pretending altogether, and worse even, that she might one day leave without an explanation, without a word of goodbye. He doesn't want to lose her. Strange as it is for him to realize he'd grown to be fond of her, he desperately doesn't want to lose her.
For now, he decides to simply to watch – and wait for whatever is to come. And silently, he pledges to himself that he will never leave her side. No matter what.