Reveille

. o .

Rukia was a fan of mornings. Specifically, she enjoyed that part of the day when the Kurosaki household hovered between sleeping and waking. For a family spectacularly attuned to spiritual energy, it was amusing to see how they seemed immune to sunlight, and often slept until the sun hovered well above the neighboring buildings. The exception to the familial rule, then, was Yuzu, who she could hear puttering about the kitchen shortly after sunrise with quiet purpose.

Sometimes, this would wake Karin; other times, the brunette would stumble down the hall in the wake of her clock alarm. Either way, the elder girl would bang on Ichigo and Isshin's doors with admonishments to their laziness and likelihood of missing the breakfast Yuzu had prepared for them. (Impossible, Rukia thought. In the time she'd stayed with the Kurosakis, Yuzu's timing was perfect, or maybe attuned to her family's erratic rhythms. Even failing that, the house had a range of plate covers and warmers that seemed in its number more suited to the great houses in Seireitei.)

Isshin would answer his eldest daughter almost immediately, met with sullen silence or the casual and oddly affectionate violence that Rukia suspected might land Karin in the Eleventh one day.

Ichigo moved the slowest, long limbs untangling and coppery hair even more unruly than its usual halo of spikes. Today was no exception, she noted, as he yawned a half-awake "mornin'," at her door. "You're gonna be late if you don't get a move on – oh," he reconsidered.

"Sleep well?" she asked, as she joined him in the hallway, school uniform in place and her hair as neat as she could get it.

"Nah," he replied. "Dreamt of bunnies. I'm blaming your shitty drawings."

"They are not - " she started, raising her fist slightly before reading the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Heh, you're probably used to quieter mornings," he said. "I'd be knocked into next Sunday if I'd said that to you at noon. That prissy brother of yours probably has the whole house awoken by shamisen duets."

"He prefers koto," she replied primly. (He prefers silence, really; Byakuya's home was arranged to promote quiet, with its meticulous servants and long corridors with tapestries that swallowed sound.)

Ichigo snorted. "'Course he does." He paused to dodge the shoe that Karin had thrown at Isshin, and sighed. "Sorry 'bout all this."

Rukia shrugged, bent, and placed the errant shoe beside its mate before they joined the rest of the family in the kitchen. "I don't mind," she said, pulling out a chair and smiling widely, seeing the star-shaped carrots beside her omelette. "And besides, these are my favorite," she added, returning Yuzu's beam with a smile of her own.

Ichigo looked at her like she was crazy, and muttered something that could have been "goddamned bunnies" under his breath that she chose to ignore.

Well, she thought, it's not like he's wrong. But her statement was true, or at least, devoid of other angles. (Less so the bit about the carrots; she prefered cucumbers, but Rukia had spent enough time on her own to stay in the good graces of anyone who cooked for her.) Her mornings with the Kurosaki household were a study in contrasts: silent yet chaotic, and warm, despite the secrets they all kept, wondered at, or pretended not to know.

Perhaps that was why she enjoyed them so much: the balance, the moments between sleeping and scrambling away to open the clinic or make it to school by the second bell, the sounds of a family waking and living all around her. It hadn't been something she'd had much experience with, and she was surprised by how quickly she had taken to their brand of chaos; looked forward to it, even. In this time they shared, between high kicks and strawberry pancakes, between waking and shouldering their various lives, it was easiest to pretend she was one of them.

. o .

"reveille" (US:/ˈrɛvəli/rev-ə-lee; UK:/rəˈvæli/rə-val-ee) is a bugle call, trumpet call, or pipes call most often associated with the military; it is chiefly used to wake military personnel at sunrise. The name comes from réveille (or réveil), French for "wake up".

. o .

finis

. o .

sabe's scribbles: I'm not fond of mornings, but I know it's not the only opinion out there, and this little vignette tumbled out earlier this winter (as I stayed in a home with more people than I'm used to having around, so perhaps art imitates life here, a little.) Thoughts and reviews are always welcomed! Morning people, did I get it right, or am I way off base?

disclaimer: Rukia and the Kurosakis, as well as their surroundings, all belong to Kubo Tite & the Bleach creative team, and the definition of "reveille" is directly from Wikipedia. This story happens somewhere around the early 200s, manga-chapter-wise.