Disclaimer: It's Kubo's.
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Ichigo never consciously thought that he would be with Rukia forever. It was something that didn't need to be considered, like drinking water when you're thirsty or breathing air when you need some oxygen. There was his life before Rukia, and then there was life. There wasn't an "after Rukia". When he looked into the future, which he rarely did because the present was often engaging enough, he saw them. Never just him.
Never without her.
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One night about two weeks after she appeared in his room, and for no good reason besides a sort of insistence in the back of his head, he opened the closet door.
Even in sleep she looked as she did during the day- tense and worried. Her brow was creased and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her hands were fisted in the sheets.
He was hesitant, and a little scared, (what if she woke up?) but he touched her anyway, her cheek, her hands, her hair, which was smooth and very black under his fingertips. Then he scuttled back to his bed and hid under his blankets, breathless for no reason that he could fathom, and later he remembers feeling sad, because only something terrible could make her look like that even when she was dreaming.
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He would have gone to her if it hadn't been for Ulquirra. He would have struck down anything in his way.
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Ichigo doesn't want her to leave, but his pride won't let him tell her that in words. He smiles as Rukia nods goodbye from the doorway to soul society, but his fists are clenched the whole time, and when he goes home he lies on his bed and stares at his ceiling and thinks that he's a damn coward.
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Some nights he gets hurt, some nights she gets hurt, some nights they both get hurt and they support each other to his dad's clinic, arguing and complaining the whole way because those cuts hurt like a bitch, and someone is going to have to suffer with them.
When they get there they bandage and kido, and no matter how pissed they were before this part is always silent. Ichigo wonders what exactly is going on in that silence, because he can tell it is significant, the rustle of Rukia's gi when she pulls it off to heal her shoulder or the scrape of linen across his torso or the warmth of her healing on his back, or arm, or leg, or her blood on his hands as he wraps some wound up with a roll of cloth, that all means something, like a tightening rope, a circle wrapped around them that shrinks closer every time, a feeling on the tip of his tongue.
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It was like everything was suddenly right with the world.
She was alive. She wasn't dead. Well, she was dead, but not dead dead.
She said their reunion could wait. He had other business to attend to.
He spoke his consent. He would tell her how pissed he was that she went and almost got herself killed later.
Orihime needed him more than Rukia did at the moment.
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He is very surprised when he sees Rukia and Ishida talking. He watches them, counting minutes until Ishida finally walks away, and when Rukia turns in the direction of his house Ichigo jogs to catch up with her.
"What's up?" He asks as he reaches her side.
"Just talking," She says.
"With Ishida?"
She shoots him a look. "With Ishida."
"What were you talking about?"
"How ridiculously rude you are staring for fifteen minutes at two people having a perfectly normal conversation."
He seethes the whole way home. When he starts his homework he thinks about it, and realizes that Ishida was with them in soul society, and before that too he supposed, in a way, even though he claimed to hate the both of them. And why shouldn't Rukia talk to him? The guy'd had a smackdown with a captain.
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There were tough times. He did, after all, fight monsters.
A hollow guts him and it hurts like hell. It hurts worse than hell. His vision blurs at the edges like running paint, and he hears the noise of the bellowing hollow fade in and out like a bad radio as Rukia obliterates it with a giant wall of ice. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing deep through his nose and gathering himself, trying to ignore the insidious outpour of blood from his abdomen, when he suddenly hears quick, ragged breathing and feels fingers ghost softly against the slash, and he jerks up and hisses at the stab of pain they bring.
"God damn that hurts," He slurs. Something coppery and thick flows down his lip. Rukia brushes it away with the sleeve of her kosode.
"I bet it does. Hold still."
Her hands glow warm and light. He tilts his head back as the blood congeals, scabs over, skin inching across his stomach. His breathing slows from hyperventilation to quick, light bursts. "That hollow was a bitch." He mutters. Rukia chuckles rather hoarsely.
"They all are."
"That one was the worst." He wants to say more, but her hands are cool and soothing and he can feel that healing euphoria settling in his mind. So instead he leans forward to try and get a look at his wound. His forehead bumps hers. He glances at her.
"Sorry," He says. He can see her smile. He can see dots of blood in her eyelashes and on her cheeks. They are little red freckles on her white skin.
"You should be, stupid."
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"What do you want to be when you're older, Ichigo?"
He looked at her, not sure how to answer, and hurt that she asked in the first place.
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There is life in this world besides Soul reaper stuff, but he forgets that a lot.
When he has an infrequent evening to himself he wanders Karakura, looking at the happy families and squabbling teenagers on the street, and he feels no nostalgia, because he has that too, with more swords, which in his opinion means it's better.
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"I don't want you to go," He finally blurts. Rukia looks surprised for a second before she rallies and scoffs. "You've been fine with it before," She says.
"No, I haven't."
She looks at him, head tilted a bit, and then she hits him.
"Ah dammit, Rukia, what was that for?" He growls, rubbing his sore chest.
"You are a sap," She says matter-of-factly. And then she huffs and sits on his bed. "I can't stay forever you know."
He walks over and stands in front of her, and with his heart thudding loudly in his chest he touches her hair like he did that night way back when she was sleeping, draws a strand around his finger and curls it. She watches him.
He smiles.
"I know."
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I demand more canon Rukia/Ishida BFF moments, for some inexplicable reason.
Critiques wanted.
