Eh? Never really intended to post this up, but nevertheless I'm tired of seeing this every time I open my folder. So, I gave in after using a machine gun on my conscience to shut it up. I agree to flames, it's your point of view anyway. T.T
Sick
Oneshot
"You were important to me, but it's too late to realize that."
He didn't want to cry. God no, there was no way he'd do that, but soon he felt the tears cascading down his cheeks, disregarding his attempt to stop them from doing so. He laid his head beneath her chest where she lay on the futon, her fingers still intertwined in his. He cried, though the pain that was ripping through him wasn't the same as the time he lost his mother. It was bittersweet, thankful and sorrowful at the same time, but it was still pain.
(flashback)
The room was only lit up by the moonlight that was reflected on the floor. Ichigo stared at his closet door where he knew the shinigami was sleeping. She was secretly getting out of the twins' bedroom and sneaking back in his, where of course, he tried in vain to throw her out. A simple smack from her ended the argument every time.
He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake away the thought that Rukia must be doing it on purpose, just to annoy him. But he knew that no matter how angry he would be at her, or no matter how much he rejected her every suggestion, she always got the last say. A major pain in the ass.
But he was bothered about her now, since she seemed to be losing her irritating side. Not that he wasn't thankful but it didn't seem like her to just leave him in peace with his decisions. It felt like she wasn't there. It felt lonesome, empty, like she was gone.
From inside the closet Rukia turned on her side, trying to find a position comfortable enough. She'd been tossing and turning most of the time, sleep eluding her. It was hard to breathe, and she knew that she was feeling hot, most likely coming down with a fever. She turned again to face the door. It was useless.
Even with her throbbing head she sat up, letting her vision stop swimming for a moment before sliding the door open and slowly getting down on unsteady feet. She had to hold on to her bed to keep herself from falling down from the lightheadedness. She was thirsty and decided to go to the kitchen even if she was caught going out of Ichigo's room.
Right, and be doomed, she thought, holding the side of her head. There was no doubt that if she was caught there'd be a huge ruckus especially if it was Isshin who found out she wasn't sleeping in the girls' room, then try to attack his son for "abducting" her.
"Rukia?" asked a voice, and she turned to look at the person on the bed who had called her name.
"Oh, Ichigo, you're still awake," she said, making her head hurt more. Her dry throat was scratching her voice.
"Yeah. Do you need anything?" he asked, feeling a twinge of concern. As much as he hated admitting it he actually liked her. Everything, from her irksome superiority to the fragile being that she was.
"Can… can you get me a glass of water?" she said, feeling sheepish. It wasn't like her to request something like that, and she expected him to laugh her off, tease her that she couldn't do anything she pleased. But that was under normal circumstances, and this was something totally different.
Without saying a word Rukia watched him get up and disappear through the door, swallowed by the shadows of the hallway. She sighed deeply, trying to get air into her lungs, and sat on the edge of her makeshift bed. The moment she had felt that she was getting sick she had moved in back with Ichigo, thinking for the better. It was the reason she was staying there in the first place because Karin and Yuzu might have caught what she had if she insisted in sleeping in their room.
A few moments later he emerged, holding out to her the glass of water that she had requested. He stood there leaning with his hand on the side of the closet door, watching her drink it down in a few swallows, feeling something eerie wash over him. Déjà vu? No, it seemed different but remained familiar.
Rukia was holding the container in her hands, and it was the first time that he saw her in that light, melancholic and exhausted. Her hair partly covered her face as her purple eyes were reflected on the transparent glass. They were holding back something.
"Rukia, I'll bring it back down. You don't need to strain yourself," he said as he took her hand to take glass.
"Wa-wait. Do you mind if you bring another one?"
He stopped and looked at her closely, then placed the glass on the floor.
"You're really sick, huh?" he said as he placed a hand on the side of her neck and the other on his own. There was a large difference.
"I feel cold," she said vaguely, brushing away his hand. Her purple eyes were bright with the fever and her cheeks flushed by the heat. Ichigo knew that there was something wrong.
(end of flashback)
He felt a hand on his heaving shoulder, and when he looked up saw the solemn Byakuya with traces of sorrow filtering through his emotionless mask. Even someone like him, he thought, cares so much about Rukia.
"Why?" he asked bitterly, feeling the last warmth of her soft hand that was laid in his. He tightened his hold on it as if it could help keep her, but he knew that all was too late now. No anchor could be heavy enough to let her stay.
"There's nothing we can do. I'll tell the others now," came the quiet reply, followed by his standing up and walking away. Ichigo stared at Rukia's calm face, no more traces of pain. Of all times, why did she have to leave then?
The snow was falling outside in the wide garden of the Kuchiki house that was buried under a white-cold blanket. He stared at the tumbling flurry, cascading through the gentle drafts of air, and reveled the last words she said.
"The time I spent with you was like a dream, Ichigo."
"So, Byakuya, that was how you felt?" he asked softly but bitterly, taking her in his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck, never wanting to believe he finally lost her.
Uh, the part that Rukia said, if you didn't quite get it, it's similar to what Hisana told Byakuya.
Like I said, you can flame. Even the crappiness of it. –hands over matches and a lighter-