Fevered reality
by Alialka
The air smelled of herbs and freshly used Kidō – peppermint, was it? - Rukia noticed with a small smile, sliding the shōji slightly and taking a peek inside. Serious eyes wandered from one person to another, looking for the symbol of bellflower on a clean white haori, but a heavy sigh left her lips as she noticed only the regular members of the Relief Station.
The recruits have been brought back from their first mission in Human World it seems, with the busy way the officers have been running to and fro. Bodies beaten and bruised, shihakushos tattered and kosodes speckled with dried blood, but they were all alive.
She was not in a better shape after her first trip. In the depth of her mind, she still could remember her bleeding hands – she gripped the hilt too damn hard – and how her blood tasted for the very first time. She threw up then, at the sight of a Hollow's teeth ripping Shinigami flesh, at the sound of crushed bone and shredded muscle.
After all those years, after all the fights she went through, Rukia never really got used to the sickening sound of a colleague's body torn to shreds. It still happened too often…
Unconsciously, her lips fell to a flat line, brows furrowing over dark eyes and her grip on the shōji tightened. The air gained a cool quality as her reiatsu flared for the briefest of moments.
"What may I help you with, Kuchiki Rukia?" a calm, gentle voice startled her and pale fingers broke the translucent paper as the petite Shinigami's hands clutched the dark wood hard out of instinct.
"Please forgive me!" Rukia bowed her head in a quick apology, drawing her hands to her back immediately "Captain Unohana, I was only…"
"I heard the good news" the gentle woman graced her with a motherly smile and Rukia blinked twice, large eyes filled with surprise at first "Seems that your Captain finally managed to convince your honorable brother"
"Oh… yes, thank you" she nodded and allowed a small smile in response herself.
"But that is not why you searched for me, is it?"
Rukia bit her lip lightly, feeling like a scholar under the warm gaze of the polite Captain. She tugged on the sleeve of her shihakusho nervously, for a fleeting second wondering if it was a good idea to come here in the first place.
But… if there was a chance… and if she could …
Then maybe… even for a brief moment…
She then steadied herself and looked up, her chin held high, hands forming fists and her back straight. Her eyes were dark and serious, a firm resolve shining through any doubts she could possibly have.
"Captain, there is something that I must ask you"
The air was too hot, too moist and it made breathing difficult. It seemed to physically pile up on his shoulders, weighting him down, causing every move to aggravate his sore muscles. He drags his sorry and aching self towards his home, feeling a dull pain clench around his temples, as he mentally prepares himself for the worst.
He doesn't feel like he can go with his father's strange antics.
The house is strangely quiet, unexpectedly empty and for a moment fear grips him, its icy claws tightening against his heart. It's empty and quiet and for a moment he forgets how to breath.
A neatly written note on the mirror caught his attention and the storm inside calmed down. But he still feels weak and his body still aches. The book filled bag fell heavily to the floor as Ichigo closed his eyes, his hand pressed to his forehead to get rid of the annoying pain that constantly pulsed right beneath his skin.
It almost made some kind of ironic sense, for him to get sick right before the end of the term.
Right before that day…
Ichigo shook his head, trying to clear it from the shadows and then sucked in his breath quickly as the world swayed and blurred around its edges. It almost felt like it was him trying to break out, to crack his skull open from the inside.
Almost.
Only it wasn't.
It was just his human body, finally giving up on him as the last three … or maybe it was four or five already?…. years of combining school and fighting and dealing with past shadows finally caught up with him. It was the resurfacing guilt, the worry and the constant strain to be better, stronger, more in control of himself. It was the long wintery months he spent at war, it was death and resurrection and the fear he placed in someone's heart. And it all finally crashed upon him, brutal and unannounced, turning him into a mass of quivering limbs and sizzling nerves.
He didn't feel like the hero some painted him to be. He wasn't the savior of the worlds, nor the protector of souls…
He didn't feel like he could even climb the stairs right now.
The kitchen table was freezing cold against his skin, as he slumped into the nearest seat , his hands grasping the edge of the top. His vision blurred even more already and he groaned with frustration, the light falling through windows becoming too bright with every passing second.
Before he realized it, Ichigo leaned forward, eyes closed tight as he rested his head against the cool surface, winding slightly at the contrast it made against his burning skin.
He needed just a moment, to find his heavy breath and then he'll go upstairs. But now … he … he'll just rest here for a while.
Rukia bit her lip as she slowly walked towards the dining hall. Even teeth grazed soft skin – once, twice and then some more – before it broke and she tasted blood. She grimaced at the sharp pain, a flash of annoy disturbing the violet in her eyes before she wiped the crimson away with the back of her hand.
Her thoughts were straying ever since she left the quarters of the Fourth Division earlier in the day.
Captain Unohana only looked at her, a warm smile playing in the corners of her mouth and Rukia felt that the gentle woman knew exactly what was going on in her mind.
Her fingers clutched the black, familiar material of the hakama as she bowed her head, hiding her eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was sure everyone in the Station could hear its mad beating.
"Thank you, Captain" she muttered politely, noticing how her knuckles turned pearly white under pale skin "For your time and your answers"
"Rukia" fingers brushed against those clutching the fabric causing the younger Shinigami to look up and Rukia wondered how much more they were accustomed to the finest china and healing herbs than the steady hilt of a Zanpakuto "Be fast"
Retsu Unohana gave her another small smile, the gentle arch of her lips seemed almost sad in an unexplainable way and Rukia's heart skipped a beat.
She did know.
Was she so easy to read? Rukia frowned, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of a corridor. Will her brother see it as clearly as the motherly Captain did? Will his cold, calculating gaze pierce through the violet and see her reasons and motives…? Unconsciously, she bit her lip again and winced, scolding herself for forgetting it was just seconds ago that she bit it raw.
She flinched violently, a familiar reiatsu wrapping all over every one of her senses, leaving her with no air for the most fleeting of moments. Her almost non-existent appetite vanished completely as a large hand was placed on the small of her shoulder, her stomach tightening in an instant.
"You're messing up the gardens" Byakuya's voice was cool, impassive to most but she heard a odd note in it, one that caused her to look up with surprise.
Her brother looked down at her, something akin to dark amuse flickering in his grey eyes for a second, before the young Shinigami tore her gaze away from him. The cold wind howled in the distance and a glimmer or white against the darkness outside caused her to turn.
Outside, it was snowing.
The hand was already long gone and the rustle of Byakuya's casual robes brushed past her ear, but her violet eyes wide and seeing and still disbelieving, choosing not to believe it was her doing and yet, she couldn't turn away from the sight.
Flakes fell lazily, gently, covering the lush grass and the ever blossoming sakura trees. They disturbed the still surface of the small pond, the last remaining koi fish startled out of its nightly peace, its rapid thrash causing ripples on the black water.
With a dissatisfied grunt Rukia threaded her fingers through the black mess of her hair, feeling the upcoming headache and fighting the urge to pull on the black strands. She was worse than she suspected.
The sheets were cold, so cold ,so cold and he moaned out loud.
"Stupid boy" a faint mutter reached his ears and Ichigo struggled to open his eyes.
The world was a blur of black and blue around him, with a shadow looming over him, close, too close for comfort. Something, no, someone in the back of his burning head screamed to fight, to strike down before it was too late and the sharpness of the blade behind his closed lids was far too tempting. His hands formed fists, ready to punch, to defend, to kill but his body failed him in the same moment.
Limbs too heavy to move more than an inch and he tossed desperately, out of pure instinct trying to shelter himself from the dark, from the pain and danger.
"It's ok" the voice came from afar, deep and low and there was a certain ring of familiarity to it "It's ok, rest now…"
Ichigo relaxed as sturdy fingers brushed his brow, his mind slipping into a comfortable black hole. Strangely relaxed, the feel of someone's presence wrapping almost lovingly around his soul, he allowed himself to let go of himself for the first time in a very long time. He didn't feel his body shudder violently, he didn't feel how the damp shirt was pulled off of him, how the sweat was wiped by a cool cloth.
Hands, big and small, calloused and soft, left his body, the overwhelming presence suddenly gone and his body lay limp, like a lifeless doll on display. He could rest… he'll be better tomorrow…
...but tomorrow reeked with blood and deafened him with the onslaught of rain over the asphalt…
But then he tensed, back arched like an archer's bow ready to snap, fingers digging into the soft sheets like claws.
Red and black wore a bone white mask in his delusional mind, sharp teeth hidden by impenetrable darkness. A faint blue light, a lure like that of an anglerfish glowed faintly, not strong enough to fight the everlasting shadows, pulsing with every strained beat of his heart.
One more voice, softer and younger, and then yet another one joined in. Three of them mixing and merging, swimming around his head , just to drill into his brain. Ichigo tossed and turned, feeling fire lick at his limbs before ice shackled them with no mercy. A pained moan ripped his throat apart and he fell, his consciousness slipping through his numb fingers like sand.
He fell long, too long and he forgot how to scream along the way.
"This is stupid" Rukia muttered under her breath before kicking a small stone with all of her strength.
She watched it bounce off the rocky road, luckily not hitting any of the poor souls that were out in the busy street. The short hair on the back her neck literally glued to damp skin, her hands were sweaty and there was never a time when she hated her shihakusho more. In this scorching sun, she'd gladly run around in only the thin kosode, feet bare and free of thick tabi.
Sweat stung her eyes and she cursed, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of loss starting to pit in her stomach. It was so late now, but she didn't dare to even think that it could be too late. Wiping her hands into the hakama, Rukia made her way through the crowd.
She never knew that the market place in Junrinan was such a hit, the rainbow colors of rich fabrics made her blind and the amount of food made her mouth water. The one in her district was nowhere near this…
There was something unpleasant in the air, dancing amidst the dust, something that reminded her of one of the spices Yuzu loved to use in large amounts.
The memory of the sweet girl stirred something from the depth of her mind, a flash of dull brown beneath damp orange, and her eyes hardened. She had no time to spare, no minute to waste.
She didn't spend half of the night locked in her brother's library to stand like a complete oaf in the middle of a market. Her eyes still burned from reading in a dim light of the candle, from deciphering elegant, flowery writing on old rice paper.
Entrusting all her hopes to everything she ever believed in, Rukia focused again, ignoring the wave of weakness that would wash over her. She's been doing this all day long, searching and looking and hoping, and she could feel how drained her spirit became. One step, second, and then another one… Her vision blurred as she kept walking, her fingertips tingling and itching to grasp something …what was it?.... that shimmered right beneath them.
Her ankle twisted a surge of pain broke through and the world came back in all of its sharpness as she stumbled forward, all of her grace and dignity both born and taught forgotten, the invisible threads slipping away again before she could reach out for them.
Warm arms stopped her fall, a scent of a grassy knoll on a windy day hitting her nose.
"Th-thank you…" Rukia stuttered as she straightened her uniform, embarrassed with the sudden display of clumsiness and only then she looked up "I'm sorry, I tripped and I…" her words cut short as she looked at the woman in front of her.
Golden hair framed the head like a halo and wide open eyes, a warm brown that seemed so… so… alive.
"I know your voice" she says, fair brows knitting the smallest bit in wonder as she looked at the petite Shinigami in front of her.
The woman had a nice voice, Rukia noticed, even if laced with barely noticeable surprise. Not too high and slightly raspy, it was the kind of voice that suited bedtime story hour in a dimly lit room.
Rukia's hear tightened again ,not with pain or despair this time, but with the same feeling she always got as she would slip into a small closet and smell freshly made laundry. She felt her lips split in a wide grin and something heavy was lifted off her small shoulders.
"I know you…don't I?"
"Ichigo…" the soft voice – so uncertain, so thin - brought him back, forcing him to open his eyes.
The sunlight was too bright, too intense and it seemed to burn through his eyes right into his brain. He pushed himself up with a grunt, only to have his hands clutch the sheets and the world blurred and spinned.
Warm hands on his shoulders pushed him back, slowly and gently, and Ichigo welcomed the feel of pillows against his head with relief. His vision was still blurred, but unmoving and it took a few painful blinks to regain some focus.
Yuzu brushed a few damp orange strands from his forehead, worry coloring her brown eyes and her small smile was so forced it physically hurt him to see it upon her lips.
"Yu..zu…" his voice burned the name through his throat, and he winced at the pain it caused.
"You're too sick to even speak, silly. You scared us…" one corner of her mouth threatened to fall as she kept stroking his hair.
Guilt pooled in his stomach as Ichigo tried to slowly sit up again. Even in his feverish daze he felt something was off, something dark and painful, and it was just…
Today…
His stomach twisted and a foul taste filled his mouth, awfully reminding him of blood and mud. Oh gods…
"Mom…"
"We'll be leaving now, Ichigo" Yuzu smiled at him again, understanding and knowing, even if her eyes were shining too much "I want you to stay in today. You're so sick, you can't leave. Please…"
"I have to…" beads of perspiration coated his face and his breath became heavier "Yuzu…"
"I'll tie you down if you move even an inch" an irritated voice broke through the sun warm silence.
"Now Karin…"
"You stay put" the black haired sister came up, a small scowl on her face as she glared at her stubborn brother "You made Yuzu worried, so damn much she spent the whole night taking care of you. The least you can do for her is listen"
The edges of his vision blurred as Ichigo looked from one sister to the other, trying to find any words that he could say, to explain… But there were dark rings under Yuzu's eyes and her skin was paler than normally and he was lost. The guilt rises its ugly head again, grows stronger and reaches for his weak heart. The smell of graveyard and fresh water stir to life in the back of his mind and he can't fight his body anymore.
In a desperate sign of strength he bolts up, rushes to the bathroom, the tiles ice cold against his shaking knees and the gastric acid burns his sore throat.
He hears the blood rush – so fast, so loud - in his ears as the stench hits his nose, causing is stomach to twist and tighten again. One of the girls yelling something, and someone was rushing up the stairs …. please gods make the thumping stop!... his body shivering violently as his arms barely could hold his weight anymore.
He couldn't make it.
The bitter truth sink in with another nauseous wave, with another heave that left a burning trail in his mouth.
He wouldn't make it today.
He can't breathe, his chest painfully tight over the dry heaves.
Shaking fingers clutched around the white porcelain like a hawk's claws around the softness of a rabbit's body, and something caused his eyes to sting.
Ichigo told himself it was just the sweat.
His father picked him up from to cold floor, as if the boy was merely a rag doll thrown into a forgotten corner of a room. As if he was smaller than his sisters, like all those long years ago, when everything was alright in his world.
Ichigo's eyes were glazed over as a cool cloth was placed on his forehead, feeling how his consciousness threatened to slip away from him once again.
"Stay son" the ruff tone of his father betrayed the worry and the shake of his hand only confirmed it further "Masaki would never forgive me if I let you go…"
The boy only nodded once, his body crashing down and shivering violently, eye lids lead heavy and it took just too much to keep them open.
"Dad…" Ichigo tried once again, whether to ask or to fight the numbness that claimed his body, he didn't know.
"I'll tell her you miss her. Sleep"
"We'll be back soon, brother" Karin's fading voice echoed in his mind as a disturbed sleep claimed him again.
"How did you know you'll find me?"
Rukia stopped abruptly at the sudden question, the warm wind of the Human world wrapping around her as she stood on one of the many rooftops. She remained silent, thinking about the right answer, the sound of cars and normal lives reaching her ears.
She bit her lip lightly, a glacial blue tint appearing in the violet of her eyes for a second before she looked up at the cloudless sky.
"I didn't"
She heard the other woman take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the living world. Briefly, Rukia wondered, if she missed this.
"I only hoped I would"
And with not one word more, Rukia continued her way along the rooftops and walls, her heart hammering madly in her chest.
Ichigo knew this was not a dream. He knew this was not reality either. Suspended somewhere between, in a realm of shadows that was nothing he knew. It was not alike the skyscrapers of his mind, where the rugged man watched over his demon. It was not the desert where he found his power or the icy fields where he fought for life.
It was an impiercable dark, comforting and disturbing in the same time, and that was all there is.
He could feel the warm wind– they must have left the window open – and the way his body shivered after the gust wrapped itself around his burning limbs. It wasn't cold, the wind, but he felt tiny needles prickling his skin and he felt his fingers twitching without his control.
Was he even in his body anymore…?
The darkness around him suddenly lessened, something of gold and amber rising up from its edges. It blurred into the black, slowly at first before devouring the pressing shadows in a shining glory. Something tickled at the tip of his nose, a memory of a child blowing at daffodils on a warm summer day vivid behind his closed lids.
So warm.
The darkness faded, giving way to the glorious light and for the first time in years he felt that his world was straight again, not stained with blood and not ripped apart by bone hard claws.
It shimmered and the wind was not hot needles on his skin anymore, a whisper of a touch against his forehead.
A soft sigh left his lips and Ichigo didn't want to wake up.
"My little boy…" a gentle voice echoed, not too loud not too quiet, the perfect pitch to soothe his mind "My Ichigo…"
He stirred, turning more into the fleeting touch of fingertips, his hands clutching the sheets as he did so.
Don't stop… don't go…
Fingers threaded the short of his hair, nails scraping ever so slightly over the skin, and it felt so good, so right, so achingly familiar. The boy squirmed under the touch, his body twisting in the damp sheets.
"I …I can't believe I can see you now… all grown and strong…"
A drop of water- rain maybe? - cause the golden haze to ripple violently and for a moment the light dimmed, a boney hand grasping his exhausted heart in an ice-cold grip. A moan, a gasp and a no, a black crow's wings spread over his head to keep the rain away.
"It's okay… it's okay…" the voice, so well known, so missed and …
…Mom…
"I heard so much about you. And I'm so proud of you, Ichigo"
But… I failed you…
His eyes moved rapidly under closed lids, as he desperately tried to wake himself up. This couldn't be real, surely this had to be just the jest of reality that twisted his mind. It had to be… it had to be…
A sick dream, nothing more.
"There, there…" that touch was back again, fingers brushing lovingly against heated cheek "Don't do this to yourself…"
Mom…
"… I was told you're so hard on yourself" the gold shimmered, enveloped him in a warm embrace and the skin on his forehead tingled "Don't"
I let you die.
"I pray every night, for your wellbeing… for you, the girls and Isshin. And I miss you so much…"
Still a dream, Ichigo reasoned in his daze, ignoring the hammering of his heart against his chest, ignoring the small falter of the gold and the rustle of crow's wings. This could not be happening, not to him, not after …
… but the rain stopped days ago - didn't it? - and maybe…
… he could get lost in this golden haze.
"You calmed down… that's good" how easily was it to picture her loving smile on her so missed face? "You need to take care of yourself too, Ichigo. I've been told you want to be strong, to protect your family… and it makes me so proud, to know what kind of man you grown into"
Proud? You're… proud?
Blood over black steel and the flapping of a tattered sleeve caused him to groan out loud, fever spiking and skin breaking into sweat. His head tossed, looking for the cool side of his pillow, the touch burning, and yet…
Don't stop.
It tickled, Ichigo realized, as the light brightened, held him close, kept him safe. The dark forgotten, blood on his hands washed away, a weight lifted from his strained shoulders. His universe was set straight again, regaining its momentum and he suddenly could breathe again.
"Protect yourself, Ichigo" a faint whisper of a kiss to his temple "Allow her to protect you as well …"
Her? What… who…?
And the warmth slowly faded, leaving him to face the harsh truth alone.
"I'm glad you got her to watch over you. I love you, always keep that in mind"
He felt the smile in her voice and could taste the tears that stung her eyes, he could see her finally, the golden glory of soft hair and the amber hue that was reflected in his sisters' eyes.
Don't! Don't leave me again! Mom!
"And maybe …no, surely, I will see you again someday"
It faded, slipped from beneath his already numb fingertips and he curled, body and mind, trying to grasp at the last strands of warmth that escaped into the shadows. The pitch black reappeared, ugly shades that brought cold and rain and everlasting clouds, and Ichigo shivered. Whimpered like that child he no longer was.
A wisp of violet, an alabaster touch of a cool hand and the darkness didn't press around him anymore. A flap of wings – was it a crow really or a mere butterfly? he didn't care - a black that glistened blue even without light and he knew that reality will be coming back to him.
Still, Ichigo lingered in the fading grey, for the first time in what seemed too long feeling the sun fall upon his sweat covered face. He stirred then, his body finally waking from the drugged sleep.
Somehow, he expected the rain to fall outside this strange dream.
His eyes still hurt and his vision was blurred, no, that wasn't sweat, his lips parted and greedily gasping for air.
His heart fluttered freely.
Rukia.
"Don't you got anything better to do, Lieutenant?" she grinned, making herself comfortable on the small bed.
"Shut up" Renji snorted, throwing her a small bag "Your brother asked me to deliver"
Her lips twisted in a mean smirk as she threw him a quick look, the dark scowl on his face more than amusing.
"You're an idiot!" he snapped then, his words harsh and gruff like an bark of an old dog "Why the fuck did you…"
"Shut up" she threw one of the fruits back at him, silencing her childhood friend "Eat up, baboon king"
"Rukia!"
She sighed, even teeth ripping the soft fruit apart, sweet juice tinting her fingers. The collar made her neck itch, but she learned how to ignore the feeling long ago.
"You're gonna be here for two more weeks" Renji spit a stone out before licking his lips clean.
He watched her, all relaxed and unphased, her small back rested against the wall and he could help but clench his fists. This place stirred too many unpleasant memories… it wasn't all that long ago, when he watched the stark contrast of the red collar against her pale neck…
"He was happy" Rukia spoke out then, calm and content and without a trace of regret in her voice.
The ever stray wisp of black hair tickled the tip of her nose and she blew at it impatiently, crossing her eyes for a brief second and Renji couldn't help but smile.
The place might be the same, but she was different.
"Was it worth it?" Renji asked casually, a nonchalant note in his voice and as usual, she knew.
"Yes"
Rukia was happy.
"I'll be back tomorrow, then" he turned then with a wave of a small hand "Go easy with the plums, we don't want you getting fat here!"
"Idiot!"
He broke into a run before the moist stone could reach him, his laughter echoing long after he was gone and long after she resettled herself against the cold wall. Again, she blew at the strand of hair that fell into her face and turned her eyes to the high, white ceiling.
The memory of damp orange hair and horrified disbelief blossoming into a child like rapture was forever to be kept in her memory, and she smiled to herself.
The collar was rough against her skin.
No matter.
She hoped to lessen the strain on Ichigo's shoulders and for that, she'd break any rules.
Be them human or God-made.
The End