I wanted angst, for some reason. And I diverted off on the part where Inoue was already rescued, and all that-war hasn't ended yet, either.
nisus
n : an effortful attempt to attain a goal.
Summary: What do they truly mean to each other, when Inoue was already pregnant with his child? Ichi/Ruki
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It was that type of pain that never lets her go. One that clings on, sapping the life out of the person until it withers away into nothingness. It was those moments that she knew were for all the best. All the things that she believe she could never have, had made its painful realization through reality.
That she was not of their world. And that someday, somehow…he'll find someone to love and to have family with. She had hoped that it was sooner than later.
"Rukia!"
He screamed, as he chased her, shunpo-ing after her slowly fading form in the distance, never knowing that she was capable to move so fast when she truly wanted to escape.
Escape…
He wished he could do the same for his situation right now.
"Rukia!"
He didn't mean to, he truly didn't. It was a night of recklessness and passions blurred into something that shouldn't have happened. And why the hell was she running anyways, and why was he chasing after her?
They weren't even together. They didn't establish anything more other than close friendship. They were comrades at best, confidants at a time of death and peril. They were simply friends, just a boy and a girl who understood each other so much, but confused the other to no end…
Right?
Then why does it hurt.
Why does it hurt when Inoue told him she was pregnant…that it might be his baby?
Why does it hurt when she stared at them with such a horrified expression, even graver than seeing her terrified look at her execution?
Why was he running after her?
"Rukia!"
He nearly slammed into her, as she suddenly stopped, suspended in mid-air. Violet eyes shaded by her bangs, hands fisted to her sides as Ichigo looked on with an expectant stare, frightened and concerned at her abrupt halt.
"What are you doing?" she whispered weakly into thin air, as he strained his ear to hear her voice, noting a crack in her usually firm tone.
He gulped, taking a step. He didn't know…he didn't know exactly what he was doing. But Ichigo knew, knew that she might leave—that she might just…just—
"I asked, what the fuck are you doing, Ichigo!?"
Her eyes obscured everything, never looking at him as her shoulders shook, her reiatsu flaring, dwindling to keep what little control she had over it.
"I—" what the hell was her problem? His eyes narrowed, that was his question, and now she was acting all weird. "That's my question, midget. Why are you running—"
"You fool."
She almost spat the words, anger, despair, betrayal, pain and all sort of feelings shattering her already beaten heart into the ground. She herself didn't know why she was running, either. She herself didn't know why it had hurt so much…so much to see, to hear.
She was looking for him.
After the return from Hueco Mundo and their successful rescue of one Inoue Orihime, everything was as peaceful as it could get. Coming to Las Noches had helped slow down Aizen's attempts, as information about invasion of Karakura alerted Seiretei. In which it was swiftly dealt with all the suspension of all worlds links, the shinigami, the hollows and the humans-to be severed. None could go out, and none could go through therefore giving Seiretei a much ample time to mobilize its troops and set up defenses and offenses in both worlds—fully prepared for any attack.
Although none had escaped unscathed, all these were granted with at least a welcome party, a day to be thankful to live another day. That was all they needed.
Everything continued on for about two months of undisturbed training and normalcy. Everyone still up on their toes for any attack as they still led daily lives.
Now if only she could find Ichigo. That thick-headed idiot thought he could run away from his training. With his hollow lurking about the depths of his mind, he seriously had no time playing about as if Aizen would come knocking at their world.
They had to expect the unexpected.
It was quite ironic that Rukia forgot to apply such wisdom at the events that unfold before her eyes.
The raven head was in her shinigami form after destroying some earth-born hollows, and came to retrieve the substitute shinigami for training after he was pulled in by Inoue. Lately, the auburn-haired girl was restless, almost nervous and disoriented. Every time she looked at the orange haired teen, she would blush, and guilt creeping up her eyes. And sometimes, she would glimpse at him with hope bubbling up from gray eyes, looking longingly at him.
Rukia knew that the girl loved Ichigo, admired and was always concerned for him. She was just that type of person, and as the raven head came to know him longer…she was able to see why.
And unknowingly falling in the same category as Inoue, but she still couldn't figure out if it was anything deeper than what the auburn-haired woman felt to him. Sometimes she was happy with what they already have: trust, loyalty, friendship. It was the same feeling being with Renji, her friends and her nii-sama, but sometimes…she craved for more. Only she was afraid to take a step, to admit, to take the commitment. But most of all—she was scared of being hurt.
Until she was too late and she had been a mile behind, blindingly running into a sword that pierced her all the way through her heart and out her back.
"K-kurosaki-kun…" she turned a corner and heard the faint, small voice of Inoue echoing in an empty class.
The raven haired shinigami promptly stopped, looking for Ichigo or not—she knew that she was not supposed to be an audience in this secret meeting—
"What is it Inoue?" his gruff yet gentle tone floated through the halls, Rukia could imagine how the orange haired teen's brows would soften a bit. She shook her head, standing here was torture—besides, Ichigo gives her the same treatment-no matter how rare, it's not like she hadn't seen this side of him to be alerted over.
"I-I'm l-late…"
Rukia froze in mid-step, violet eyes widening.
A stretch of silence reigned for a few minutes which seemed to stretch for hours.
"Uh…" the orange haired teen scratched his head sheepishly, "Y-you were pretty early this morning—"
She hoped that it was about that conversation…she hoped and prayed. Leaving was far from her mind, she wanted to know—wanted to feel relieve, but she knew it was wrong. She had heard of things before, being more than a hundred fifty years old did made her aware of what that implied, and she knew shinigami's were not much different from humans.
But what exactly was she doing listening to two people's conversation that would be more or less, the most pivotal event of their lives? Who the hell was she in their life anyways?
Nothing…nothing but a living memory of once who died, and lived in a different realm.
"N-no, Ku-Kurosaki-kun…I—" her voice cracked a bit as the auburn-haired girl bit her lip. It was so awkward, so frightening. What would he say? How would he react? Would he be mad? Would he leap for joy? There were so many if's that she began to wring her hands together.
"A-at the party…we—" she let the words hung in the air, as both blushed, hiding the shame as neither refuse to meet the others' eyes.
"Inoue, I-"
"Kurosaki-kun…I-I" their eyes met briefly, Rukia held her breath. "I t-think I-I'm pregnant."
And she fled.
Expect the unexpected.
She did expect, prepared for the worse, strengthened her resolve…but nothing could break her for the truly unexpected…because she didn't train her heart—not for him.
"Rukia…"
He took a step forward, hands outstretched. He didn't care that he left Inoue with a hasty 'We'll talk later.' as he took out his badge and shunpoed for the distress shinigami who had stepped unknowingly into their conversation—her reiatsu leaking carelessly. It wasn't the fact that he was not troubled with Inoue's confession, but rather…rather…what?
Ichigo didn't know. But he knew that somewhere deep in his heart, something—someone had died.
The rain was eminent.
She stepped back, flinching and he retracted his hands. "You have a bigger responsibility, Ichigo."
Amber eyes widened as he attempted a second try to reach for her arm. "I—"
"Don't. Touch. Me."
He couldn't believe it, but he was hurt. The rain had started.
"Please."
His fingers curled away from her, eyes clouded over with turmoil. "I understand."
He didn't.
And as excruciating, and dense atmosphere, engulfing and drowning both individuals in their own pain, wallowing in their own judgments and thoughts, she broke the silence.
She was a Kuchiki. She was a shinigami. And she finally understood her meaning of existence, her duty, her own rules.
Ichigo Kurosaki was human.
Kuchiki Rukia was a shinigami.
Her only mission was to finish what she started, and there should be nothing more and nothing less.
But it took all of her willpower and years of trained Kuchiki traditions and customs to dissolve everything she ever allowed herself to dream of.
"Kurosaki Ichigo,"
And there was nothing more as heartbreaking to the orange haired male as the fading light of sunset highlighted the beginning and end to all their informalities, to all their childhood, to all their…friendship. In its place, becomes a shell of responsibility. In its place, a mask of indifference. In its place, a gap was born through the misunderstandings and misjudgments that ripped them apart.
She clenched her fists, violet eyes steely, and voice devoid of any emotions that bled forth from her heart, as she wondered when the tears would come. "It has come to my attention of you and Inoue Orihime's union."
And Ichigo could see the pieces break, the rain soaked upon his shoulders.
"Therefore, I have concluded," it was so hard, so hard to pushed down the bile-the lie down her throat, "That it would only be proper that I extend my congratulations."
Piece by piece, drop by drop.
"And that it would be prudent," she doubled her voice, the silence deafening. She couldn't afford letting him in her thoughts, her weakness, her sorrow, "That we separate for the sake of what may come."
This was wrong. His face contorted into helplessness and desperation, knowing what she intends to do-but not wanting it to happen. This was not the Rukia he knew, the Rukia he befriended who talked and acted with cold authority in front of him...
Was not her, "Rukia-"
"We are at war, Kurosaki." and she dropped everything. All the pretensions stripped with that one distant formality to his name. "I do not expect you to protect me, as I am shinigami."
The emphasis was not lost to him. How many times had they talked of their differences, their customs, the rift in their worlds, her pride as a warrior. "More than ever…"
Their eyes met, in that single moment in time—she willingly slipped her hands away from him.
"You need to protect Inoue,"
The rain raged on, a tempest in the midst of darkness.
"And your unborn child."
Walking away was not that hard, no-it wasn't…because Kuchiki Rukia was dead, and like the dead, she should feel nothing…
Nothing but the cold December wind, bitter and agonizing as she left the orange-haired boy without a shield to the raw pelts of rain that descended angrily from the heavens…
That and nothing more...
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How was it? Hate it? Love it? I need suggestions, but revs would be great :):) TY