Breathless

Renji X OC One-shot

Author Note: I usually don't write love stories; generally, I don't care for them. But, every once in a while, I need one. And, for the same reason, don't expect this to be some mushy gushy tale of "true love." I can't stand reading those types of stories so forget writing them.

My windbreaker only managed to block the force of the wind from chilling me, but the cold temperatures of the night managed to seep through the material. My nightly walk, sixteen blocks round trip, would only be for three more nights. I had been entrusted with the care of Kimi's cat for the past week, checking in every evening to give her food and water—not to mention the occasional litter-box clean-up—I know, gross, right? But, despite my refusal, Kimi paid me for it. People shouldn't need to pay their friends for helping out, but Kimi had this thing about steering clear of the IOU trail. All well, money is money, and I needed it.

I felt a chill shake its way up my spine. Perhaps, I should start doubling up on jackets again. The spring always harbored unpredictable weather changes. Oddly, the chill seemed to cling to my spine, and that's when the weird stuff started happening.

Since middle school began, or at least I think that's when it started, I've been able to feel energy. No, I'm not some crazy psychic or anything, I've never claimed to see the spirits. But, all the same, sometimes I can feel things. Most of the time, I think it's electrical—I can feel it when I get too close to generators or the boiler room in the high school. It's nothing special, it feels like the energy is just vibrating through my body—making me dizzy and eventually giving me a massive headache.

But, every so often, I felt something more. It's hard to explain, like the pressure of being underwater, only it's the vibrating-energy-feeling. Most times, it's light, like filling the air with a bubbly, bright sensation. Other times, it's a heavy, horrible feeling, often making me sick.

Most of the time I blame resulting visits to the nurse's office on asthma—in addition to the real asthma visits. It's a perfect excuse to skip gym class. There's a bed in the nurse's office that practically has my name on it. It's not like I need the exercise, Karate class takes care of that, and I hate pointless exercise. I mean, come on, who really wants to run in a circle for an hour? Gym was fun in elementary when we got to play games all the time. What happened to dodge ball and line-tag? Ah, the good ol' days.

But, tonight, there was no nurse's office to retreat to. I felt it. It began with the chill in my spine, a horrible feeling. It only took a few seconds to extend throughout my body. It made my hair stand on end, chills causing my spine to curve. My eyes widened as the pressure increased. I felt the saliva gather within my mouth, threatening to show me my dinner again. Whatever this was, it was no generator. And, it was close.

I spun around, an unfruitful attempt to find the source. Should I run? One problem with that little plan, I didn't know what direction would lead me to safety. My panic made me an easy target. The invisible enemy hit me, full force knocking me into the air, landing hard on the concrete. Whatever it was, it must have been huge. I could feel the marks it left on my side, just below rib level. Landing a few meters away from my take-off point, I rested for a moment, flung on the ground in shock. That's when I heard it, a loud screech, unlike anything living could make. Fear trickled into my being. I jumped to my feet, wincing with the pain, attempting to ignore it as I took a defensive stance.

I could feel the direction now, for reasons I didn't know. It's energy force pressed in on me from behind. At this point, the smart thing to do would be run, far, far away. But, I never claimed to be smart—did I? Nope, I did the very opposite in my own rage and fear. I ran full force toward my invisible attacker. I've always been a bit of a slow learner. A yard or so away from it's body—or what I thought should be it's body—I pushed myself off the ground in a clumsy, airborne sidekick.

I made contact with the creature, hearing its anguished screech. I bounced back from my landing spot, stumbling away from the creature—big mistake. One of its limbs swooped towards me, but this time, I could sense it. I barely dodged it, dropping low, its arm knocking me into a controlled roll. It was then I noticed my symptoms, my weakness. Oh Crap. I couldn't breathe—damn asthma.

I stood there gasping like a fish. My asthma tends to be exercise induced, I never carry my inhaler on my person unless I'm expecting to run or something. It was just too bulky to fit into the pocket of my jeans. I kept it in my duffel bag for Karate. Did I mention how idiotic I can be?

My asthma was getting worse, a loud wheeze escaping my throat, the scrape of air rubbing it raw. As if all this sickening energy wasn't bad enough, now I couldn't breathe properly.

The creature roared/screeched again. I felt it attacking from my right this time, rushing in too fast for me to escape. I was thrown against another building, cold brick scraping the side of my face. My head pounded as I crumpled against the side of the wall, accepting my fate. I felt blood begin to trickle down my face. I was going to be killed by this giant invisible monster. It was too late to run, my asthma saw to that, and whatever fight I had left would be no use. Pathetic, taken down in three strikes, I resented my weakness.

I struggled to breathe, trying to concentrate on pulling air into my lungs. Maybe I could escape if I could calm myself down. I gasped in shock, eyes widening as something tightened around my torso. I couldn't see anything but the ground moving away as I was lifted into the air. I could feel the hot breath of the creature on my face—and it smelled rotten. I was nearly thankful I couldn't breathe—except for the not breathing part. So, this was it, the end.

I coughed, struggling to catch my breath, and then I saw it. A red flash passed across my vision, and, suddenly, I was falling. My body hit the ground, cushioned by whatever had been gripping me so tightly, now limp. I scrambled to my feet, pushing myself as far away as I could from whatever it was. I fell back to my knees, coughing. "Come on, get up!" I shouted in my head, but the lack of air was making me dizzy. I turned back in the creature's direction, head looking up in surprise.

There he stood, bright red hair reaching well past his shoulders, and striking tribal tattoos running from his eyebrows up his forehead, barely hidden by the brightly colored headband. Wasn't that Ichigo's cousin? It's hard to forget someone who looks like that. He seemed to be talking to someone, the creature? Could he see it? He looked at me with a hard expression—difficult to read. I looked down again, dragging in breath after breath—or, at least, trying to. Without my eyes, I could feel the three distinct energy sources near Ichigo's cousin—Renji, I think. Maybe he was talking to someone else I couldn't see.

I felt Renji draw closer. "Are you okay?" he coldly questioned.

I looked up at him, realizing how awful I must have looked, wheezing out an unintelligible answer: "Asthma." It's kind of ironic how difficult it is to say asthma when you're actually under an attack. I began to cough, forcing all of my air out of my lungs. Renji was now crouching low at my side, trying to figure out what was wrong. All I could do was wheeze, face turning almost as bright as his hair in my forced breath.

I felt the force of the creature disappear and looked up. Renji followed my gaze, slowly turning back to me. He stood up, offering me his hand, and I obliged, stumbling into him. My face blushed even redder, holding my breath briefly. I tried to back away, in embarrassment. Sure, he was cute, but he also seemed dangerous. I weakly stood my ground, slowly dragging oxygen through my constricted airways. I felt so stupid and weak.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, looking into my eyes. I must have looked pretty bad.

"Yeah" I said, still trying to breathe. Heavy breaths were preventing me from saying anything else. I felt something wet on the side of my face. I lifted my hand to feel the slick blood that framed the left side of my face. Renji must have noticed my flash of shock.

"No, you wont." Renji sighed as he pulled me closer. I tried to resist, pushing myself away.

"What the hell?" I sucked in a breath, taking a few steps back.

"Relax, I'm just going to take you to the Kurosaki Clinic. It's three blocks away and you can barely stand. So, shut up and let me carry you. You want to suffocate?"

"Okay" I breathed, stiffening as he picked me up. I blushed and hid my face, tilting my head so my short hair could cover it. His body was warm, despite the cold air. I tried to concentrate on my breathing. "Breath in, hold, and release," this was my mantra.

It was so strange the way Renji just knew what to do, but he seemed strange all the way around any way. What was that thing, and who was he talking to. Were they ghosts? Could ghosts actually hurt you like that? There were a few rumors running around school about paranormal activity. Is it even possible?

"What was that thing?" I questioned, looking up at Renji.

He looked down at me, lips tight. He wasn't going to tell me—but he knew something. He seemed so strange, and he clearly wasn't from around here, his mismatched clothing, a dead give away. But, Ichigo claimed him as his cousin. Than again, Ichigo and his friends had seemed strange as well, always running off, skipping school, missing for weeks on end. Did Renji have anything to do with it? And, more importantly, did that thing that attacked me have anything to do with it? So many questions, it was clear I would get no answers from him.

After a long, awkward walk, no talking, my concentrated wheezes filling the silence, we arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic. It looked closed, but the doors were unlocked. Renji carried me inside, back to a medical room.

"I think you can set me down now." I remarked, as coolly as I could, and he did so. He pulled out a chair, his gaze telling me to sit down while he rifled through a cabinet of medical supplies. He pulled out some gauze and rubbing alcohol and grimaced at the thought of playing nurse.

My breathing was returning to normal—slowly—still filled with that annoying wheeze. Renji bandaged the gash on my forehead, no stitches were necessary, to my relief. I briefly wondered if he would have stitched me up if I had needed them. He seemed to have some sort of medical training, his hands seemed well accustomed to the movements, maybe first aid training. Searching through the office, we managed to find an albuterol inhaler. It only took a few minutes for me to return to normal, but my throat still felt raw.

Putting everything back the way we found it, Renji led me to the door. "I think I can make it home okay." I said, looking down in a short bow. I gazed back up at his relaxed expression.

Then, I surprised him and myself. I leaned forward and embraced him in a hug. He stiffened at first, then relaxing. "Thank you," I spoke as I pulled away, shyly.

There was an awkward pause, than he spoke, "Stay out of trouble, I can't always be there to save your a**." I smiled in response, unwilling to retort with some snappy comeback. There was smoothness in his voice, revealing his thoughtful intention.

With a small turn on my heel and a quick "See ya," I began to walk home, glancing back only once. He still waited at the door, a faint smile painted on his face.