Hi guys! I know I've been dormant for quite a while, but I got the idea for this oneshot and liked it enough to write it. I'm sorry to say this doesn't constitute a comeback (aka I'm not planning on writing anything more soon (life, she is a cruel mistress)), but I hope this little bit of RenRuki goodness will make everyone happy. Warning: Spoilers for current manga chapters. Enjoy!

A Dream of Reality

If she knew he was sleeping on the job, she'd surely gut him clean. But fighting arrogant quincy bastards and their servant spawns was tiring…besides, it wasn't as if all of soul society was swarming with enemies or anything. Renji admitted the unwise nature of his actions freely, but didn't care much during the act. He was used to living life on the edge, anyhow.

Predictably, his dream revolved around one female Kuchiki. But as her figure formed from nothing before him, he realized that this one would not be of the fantastical variety. Rather, his subconscious Rukia's calm demeanor and slow gait towards him was an indication that the level of mind just below his primary one wanted to tell him something.

The small woman presented before him now was different than the one who synthesized when he imagined that he was confessing his love, or any other crazy fantasy he had that involved her. This Rukia never jumped into his arms, or kissed him, or anything like that. Instead, she would sit with him and they would do menial things together, and talk about important matters. This was also one of the only dream sequences in which his zanpakuto would let him alone, as the serpent-tailed baboon knew that its master needed all the help he could get.

"I should have known you'd fall asleep in the middle of a warzone like an idiot," she rebuked him, standing casually before his comfortably sitting form. Though she wasn't the real Rukia, she always acted like it—which was why he never treated her much differently than the original, aside from the constant acknowledgement that she was only a manifestation of his mind. Even as her violet glare pierced through him, she held his unconditional attention; any background that might have existed faded into white nothingness.

"It's not like I can't take care of any quincy puke who tries ta ambush me," he replied, annoyed she was giving him the third degree though he was aware of and fully understood her motive.

"Talk like that is what gets cocky morons like yourself killed," she said bluntly, her words venomous daggers to his overinflated ego. He pouted, about to devise a way to escape her lecture, when she reached out a tiny hand and grasped a strand of hair which had fallen free from his topknot. Her eyes had turned softer, more concerned now than livid. "You claim you can handle it, yet you can't even keep your hair from getting messed up during battle," she remarked, examining the crimson lock for a moment before moving behind him. He remembered why he could never stay mad at her.

"Besides to bitch, what did you come here for?" he asked, a mocking tone hidden within the serious question. She had snapped the band on his hair so it spilled over his back, and tugged on a clump of it to gain recompence for the teasing insult. He flinched, but stayed silent. Payback be damned, but he did want an answer. Sensing this, she set to work, gathering the errant strands as she spoke.

"You might not realize this, but what you're doing right now is colossally stupid—"

"As you've made sure to tell me," he cut in sarcastically, impatient at the fact that she was repeating herself. She ignored his reproach, and continued.

"Telling you not to take a nap during an invasion is a valid reason for me to come 'bitch' at you, whether you like it or not." His eyebrow raised in annoyance.

"So you're saying that's the only reason you came?"

"Exactly."

"And you couldn't have just told me that?" Another tug on his hair, this time to pull his head back so she could leer menacingly at his upside-down face.

"Fixing stupidity is a process—I have to take baby steps, don't you know?" And she let go of her hold on his ruby locks and went on with her statement, a smug look replacing the angry one. "The work of a good subconscious is never done, I'm afraid." The Rukia look-alike sighed, and went back to binding his hair. "Especially when the consciousness it has to work with is a complete bonehead." Renji snorted.

"If you were so great, you'd know that the least effective way to communicate with me is by coming here in the form of the woman who distracts me from everything else in this world," he informed her. "Don't act like you don't know that, either, 'cause I know you do—you must, since you process the deepest part of my thoughts." Staring ahead once more, he heard the small noise that accompanied her smirk.

"You might be interested to know that I don't actually choose how I appear to you, or how I act…when we speak with each other, the things that I tell you are based on what you truly believe or think deep down inside of yourself. My physical manifestation and demeanor go along with that." Renji, a bit puzzled, considered this for a moment.

"So…yer sayin' her opnion dictates the way I feel? About everything?"

"Well, I'm only a subconscious, not an all-knowing god. But, if I had to guess, based on the fact that I 'process the deepest part of your thoughts,'" she smirked devilishly, to which he rolled his eyes, "it's probably more like you trust the way she thinks about things more than any other influence—or, at least, the way you believe she thinks." The last part struck a nerve deep within him as she announced that his ponytail was finished, and he stood to face her.

"I wonder how different my personal image of her is from the real thing," he thought aloud, starting lamentingly into the copycat's eyes. "I mean, I s'pose the fact that I can never see any differences between you and her is a good sign, but it makes me wonder how well I really know her anymore…"

"In any event, we can never know that, since it's impossible to venture into another person's head," she interrupted him, breaking the short silence. "Either way, the general gist seems to be that you count on her guidance to lead you down the right path, whether you consciously realize it or not." It seemed like she was trying to cheer him up, but it was hard for him to tell based on her neutral expression and tone. Just like the Rukia he knew and loved.

Suddenly, he felt himself fading out of the scenario as his physical body awoke. He nodded at the small girl before him. "See ya around."

"Enjoy the ambush," she shot back, but the grin on her face told him she was just being cheeky. She really was trying to lighten his demeanor, and the thought made him smile.

Now watch him actually up to a surprise attack…geez.

END

Hope you enjoyed! Comments and opinions are appreciated and loved!