It was that time again. So quickly, one year had elapsed. And here he was again; here they were again, in a confrontation of the past. He stood silently, deep in thought facing the memorial of his mother, his brows furrowed once again in anxiety. She was several paces behind, still as a statue, giving him the space he needed.

So little had changed physically since the last time they came. Everything looked the same. The cold smooth stone, the flowers, the silence. She even wore the exact same dress, pale yellow, and the wide-brimmed hat with the deep blue ribbon. The sun was dazzling again spreading its rays into every nook and cranny, a white-gold disc of light.

'Ichigo.' She took a few steps forward cautiously, testing his response. Her heels clacked against the flat paving stones, signalling her movement. Slowly, he turned his eyes to her and hot amber met cool indigo, an unspoken communication of words. She nodded in understanding. Of course she would. She was Rukia after all, she knew without being told.

If I ask, will you answer? It's your problem. A deep, deep problem. I have no right to know. I don't have a method of stepping into the depths of your heart without getting it dirty. So, I will wait. When you want to talk, when you think it's okay to talk, talk to me. Until that time, I will wait.

'What I said last time still remains. If you want someone to talk to about something, anything, then I'm always here to listen.'

His orange hair blazed in the sunlight, gleaming red in some places where the sun hit it just right. Rukia began to step back again but his hand enclosed her small wrist, effectively stopping her. She started, looking back at him, her features questioning. It seemed he had decided something, and his eyes blazed at her.

'Yeah. Stay, I want you to listen.' Continuing in quietude, he stepped even closer to the stone and then sank to his knees, his head now level with the inked characters on grey. Feeling a tug on her wrist, Rukia too knelt down carefully, still mystified but seeing and trusting the fierce determination reflected in his eyes. She delicately took off her hat with her nimble fingers, to show respect to the woman she knew Ichigo placed above all others. He began to speak softly, but passionately.

'Mother, this is Rukia. I met her a year ago, and she saved me that night. She changed my world and gave me the strength to protect the ones I care about. I owe her everything.'

Rukia's eyes widened in shock, her head spinning to the side. Ichigo? She was flattered that Ichigo cared so much for her, but she was sure it was meant to be the other way around. She should be thanking him. She blinked. Nevertheless, beneath the shock, a light happiness diffused through her soul. Ichigo tightened his grip on her wrist.

'Dad has already called her his third daughter. Yuzu and Karin love her; Karin in her own subtle way. Please accept her too, Okaa-san, because I intend to spend the rest of my life

With her.'

-

Thank you Rukia. Thanks to you, I think…the rain has stopped.

Silence dominated the walk down the hill, Ichigo still fiercely gripping her pale wrist, which was now becoming slightly pink around the edges. Rukia felt an array of emotions; she knew not how to behave. She knew not what to say. To hear that he liked her was a welcome relief, but how should she react? With every step, her feelings cleared, but also became more conflicted. With each step, she became more hopeful and happy, but that brought with it the guilt, the feeling that she was becoming more of a burden. Her thoughts were such, that without knowing when he had moved, she found Ichigo in front of her, looking deep into her eyes with concern. She coloured and looked down, but immediately regretted the action.

'Are you alright? Sorry if I troubled you. Please think no more of-'

'Ichigo.' She raised her head again and was immersed in pools of golden brown. It pained her to see him hurt, to see this expression on his face. To know that she was the only one he would show emotions to, and she had caused this. She smiled to reassure him.

'There are many girls out there, many of whom you have never met. Are you sure about this? To have chosen me?'

She saw his eyes relax. Ichigo's arm rose a little, and his hand carefully moulded around her cheek. With a soft expression, he brushed her cheekbone with his thumb and observed the blush suffusing across her pale skin. It was the sparkle in her eyes; the glow of her skin; the pink of her cheeks; the darkness of her hair. She was radiant. While his irises remained fixed on her, he slowly leaned forward, his free hand sweeping her hat off in one fluid motion. Her eyes fluttered shut as his breath fanned over her face.

He pressed his lips against hers.

How long they held each other, they did not know. They did not notice the soft wind that picked up, twirling around them, playing with their hair. They did not notice the rustle of applause from the leaves, or the confetti petals showering them in glee.

But they felt the sun shining in their hearts and for them that was enough, for it meant that the rain would never start again. She felt warmth hitting the curve of her neck as he whispered to her, and her breath hitched in her throat.

'Yes. You idiot.'

le. papillon. blanc.