Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN.
WARNINGS: May be OOC. Mentions about sex, alcohol, but nothing explicit.
Summary: The Great War with Aizen was over. Now its time for the celebrations and aftermath, and for Ichigo and Rukia, it could be more damaging than the war itself.
1.
It was their triumph, their victory.
After eleven years of gruesome battle, countless lost souls, and the greatest mass destruction ever known to humans, spirits, and Hollows alike, they had finally emerged as the winners.
The nights was meant for celebration, all the survivors gathering at Karakura town with their heroes (Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends), partying night after night while all sorts of drinks and substances were flowing freely as water and air. Everyone was in a jubilant mood; everyone only spoke of the destruction of Aizen, as well as the peace that they had helped forge.
And that night was no exception, as everyone gathered in yet another bar to toast their happiness, to dance with strange bodies to strange music while enjoying themselves, launching themselves from melancholy into a whole new world of euphoria.
Rukia was just grabbing a drink, and others toasted her, and the liquids just kept pouring down her throat until she became so hot that she just grabbed Ichigo beside her, and started kissing him senselessly.
He did not push her away; instead, he returned the vigor while everyone cheered on. It was just one big party, and everyone was in their own pleasant haze, and the two starring heroes were not immune to that.
They did not notice the wolf whistles, nor did they noticed the knowing glances that everyone gave each other as they pulled on each other's shirts, as they latched onto each other's lips and would only release to snatch a breath of air before smashing back together like a magnet attracted to each other again.
They would only know the events that transpired between them when Rukia woke up with a hangover, moaning about how everything was swirling and she can't see anything properly. She didn't even notice their robes tossed carelessly on the floor until he woke up, and they almost had to put their heads together for 15 minutes before understanding why they were sleeping together in one bed with the obvious lack of modesty between them.
By then, Rukia just shrugged and said "We're still friends, don't worry" with great affection, before gathering her robes and walking out of the room with her feet still not balanced, but Ichigo didn't have time to piece the puzzle together on his own, nor did he want to. He only stared at her retreating figure, and closed his eyes until it was time for another nightly round at a new bar.
Several nights later, when his head was finally clear for a second, he saw Rukia leaning laughing, throwing her head backwards with her hair spilling down, and he squinted to see her company. Was it Renji, or Hisagi, or someone else that he didn't even know? To be honest, he can't keep track anymore, and anyways, he had an attention span of a three year old at that moment.
The next thing he knew was that someone was buying another round, and cries of "A toast to our Karakura Town Hero, Ichigo Kurosaki!" quickly permeated the room. He just drank to the toast, until he couldn't tell left from right anymore.
It was just another night at Karakura Town for the champions.
2.
Eventually, the celebrations did die down, because Seireitei finally realized that they should fill the 13 squads with new recruits, and because the golden tarnish had worn off, leaving the rustiness behind as they continue to look forward into the future.
As for Ichigo and Rukia, the next time that they truly had a conversation was when Ichigo was taking Orihime on their first date, because he realized that he should at least adopt some kind of normal earthly habits now that everything was over for good.
"Hey, how is it?" Rukia asked. It had been nearly a year since they had properly talked to each other.
"Good."
"So, what are you up to?"
"Taking Inoue on a date."
She raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him like the old days. "You still call her Inoue?"
"Fine, Orihime." He shrugged, and she didn't bother to probe further. After all, she thought it sounded foreign coming from him, and he could just never get used to calling her that. Must be old habits sakes.
"Anyways, you better not treat her like the way you treat me." She warned him.
He scoffed. "As if, midget."
"Have some respect for your betters!"
"Oh, of course, Your Royal Highness." Sarcasm oozed out of his words. She rolled her eyes.
"You're still so immature."
"Good to know that you haven't grown a single inch yet, Rukia." He retorted spitefully, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He would've laughed at the sheer irony and because how comical she looked, but he stopped. He should get back to Ino—no, Orihime.
Rukia seemed to sense that as well, because she flashed a quick smile, showcasing her dimples and some sparkle in her eyes (he never noticed it before, she looked almost alive again) before telling him that she'll contact him again, and they definitely should talk more often.
He muttered a response before leaving her to go back to Orihime, and she watched him walk down the path until she couldn't see his golden hair anymore, before she too turned to her obligations and left.
3.
Before all that had happened, Ichigo actually had thought about a future.
Perhaps not the perfect family with a dog, a picket fence surrounding a beautifully whitewashed house with healthy 2.5 children and the showcase wife, but certainly he had ideals about what he wanted, what he expected.
But that was the past.
He knew that he should not stop his studies—it never hindered him before—yet for some reason, he couldn't find the heart to pursue the career of being a doctor anymore. That was a fragment of the past, and he should not be dwelling in the company of ghosts.
So he couldn't steel himself to attend any of his medical courses, even shrieking away from his father's clinic because he can't stand looking at all that equipment, the crisp white sheets, just the smell and the orderliness and cleanliness of everything, they just hurt his brain too much. In the end, he gave up and moved to Tokyo with Orihime.
He wanted a job; however, he didn't really want one either. All he really wanted to do was stay inside the apartment, wandering idly in the cramped rooms, and occasionally muttering to himself. At night, if he felt like it, he might sit down on a worn chair and start scribbling madly.
That kind of became his occupation, just to write idle poems and articles that somehow strike everyone in the heart. But really, they were nothing more than scraps of paper that he would shove into a shoebox after he was done, never to set eyes again, nor was it meant for anyone.
In fact, it was a complete accident that Orihime found it on one of the rare days that she was at home (she needed a job to support both of them, while Ichigo was stuck in between his creative and mindless words) and that he was somewhere else. She ignored the quiet whisper in her head that 'Curiosity kills the cat' and opened the box without a second thought.
She was not entirely surprised to find nearly ineligible scribbles on crumpled paper, filled with scratches and eraser bits. She even read one or two.
She really liked Ichigo's writing, really, she did. She thought it was brilliant, it was beautiful, and it was so happy.
And it of course must be a coincidence that the female lead had either raven hair, petite stature, or purple eyes, just as it is another coincidence that the hero who sweeps the female into the castle and into happily forever after had amber eyes, bright orange hair, and a bad temper.
4.
Goodness knew how they met, but it seemed like Fate (or just some pesky captains that purposely assigned her to another part of the Living World) put her and Ichigo Kurosaki together again. It was as if they were twins that could never be truly separated.
Years did not age him; it only enhanced him and reminded Rukia exactly of what she loved so much. But by the time that she could acknowledge that, her knees were already weak from all the clinging and kissing that she had done with him. She never thought of herself as needy, but the maxim "Actions speak louder than words" proved her and everyone else otherwise.
"Stay with me." Ichigo whispered huskily, hugging her after one of their 'sessions'. She shook her head.
"Why?" He frowned, and the ever infamous scowl appeared again.
She sighed. Were they really going to do that now, when the night was still young, and the stars still sparkling like diamonds that she once craved after on her finger so much? But he gave her such an intense stare that it pierced through her body (well, to be honest, he's already explored everything, so she really ought to not be afraid of a glance) that she forced something out of her throat.
"Because because because." She threw her hands up in the air, slowly extricating herself from his possessive embrace. They were fighting as usual; it was either over a strategy, or where they should meet, and even in their most intimate moments they were fighting for control. Perhaps that's why, but she didn't tell him that.
Instead, she just stated the obvious. "Because you're human, and I'm a shinigami."
"Bullshit."
"Don't swear. It's uncouth."
"And don't act all high and mighty like your nii-sama please."
That's exactly why they couldn't get together, and she told him so. They were to end up arguing, to shout at each other before clawing each other's skin until blood caked all over their bodies, as well as smothering kisses and whispers of empty love that are counterfeit. It was a sadistic routine that they go through, and they really should mature by stop torturing each other like that.
In the end, she only announced her departure like so many times before, and promised to never meet him again.
He only shrugged though, another trademark of his as the sun finally rose, and the rays slowly filtering in the thin curtains of the room. He knew that she would come back, and he would wait until it was their time to spend the night in some dingy motel in the middle of nowhere.
5.
For the last time, she told her captain that she refused to complete another assignment to the Living World for all of eternity. He smirked and told her that it was too long for any complaints, but then she gave him the icy Kuchiki glare which finally forced him to grudgingly agree.
She was sick of people thinking that she and Ichigo Kurosaki make the most adorable couple, the most pleasing of lovers that had chemistry scorching in the air. In reality, they were only a pair of squabbling idiots that would inflict pain on each other as their limbs and sweat were tangled together for the umpteenth time. It was hardly inspiring, and never romantic.
Besides, Karakura Town was just a nightmare for her now. It had been a nightmare ever since she had ever made that mistake (the air was too leaden, she couldn't lift her arms in time, her flash steps were just a second too slow) which released the Pandora's Box to wreck havoc. Only this time, there was no gift of hope.
There was only guilt and the stench of the innocent lives being robbed, shinigami and living souls alike. For all that they had given her; she was no "Angel of Peace", but rather a true shinigami that would only curse everything that she touched.
Was not interacting with Ichigo Kurosaki the best example of all?
She pushed such thoughts away from her, knowing that she would be cloaked into safety as she would never have to set eyes on the Living World again, and celebrated that with a hearty cup of sake. (at least, she believed it to be sake although it would not have mattered if it was wine or whisky or beer)
Soon, she greedily drowned herself in the heady liquid, allowing herself to run without constraint and partied harder than the rest as if it was her last day to be a soul. She did not back off from anything, and could always been with the rowdiest of the groups while others try to restrain her with their soft reasoning, only to fail miserably.
Ultimately, she had her badge (the strap that represented her dignity as a vice-captain of the Gotei 13) taken away, her honours striped from her; yet all she could do was swim in the midst of alcohol, basking its comforts while all her senses were being consumed. There was no more that anyone can do, and none that can shake her out of the haze (the guilt) that gnaw her soul until it shattered into nothingness.
It wasn't until she hit rock bottom that she secretly yearned for her hero, a knight in shining armor with ridiculously obnoxious hair to rescue from the hellhole like she was a damsel in distress. But her life was never a fairytale, so the help obviously never arrived as the poisons eventually seeped so deep in her body that she collapsed into a heap one night.
Hours blurred into days that shifted into months or even years; nothing was consistent except for her sour breath and the pitiful cries of "Ichigo" in her deepest dreams (nightmares), and finally she fell from grace as the blood from her body flowed freely to atone for her sins.
("Forgive me, Ichigo. I'm sorry, Ichigo. I couldn't do more, Ichigo. I'm weak, Ichigo. Ichigo…")
6.
She eventually gathered courage to combat the shadows, to combat all the ghosts that have been haunting her since the beginning of time. It was tough, but she was slowly on the path of recovery, where she could emerge truly victorious like all those years ago, when everyone was jubilant when they knew of Aizen's death.
She may never be the same again, but everyone undergoes events that slowly change, that slowly mould them to who they would be, so she just stopped caring about that part. It was not the experience itself (she's done it so many times), but rather, how and what she would take from it to nurture herself into a better person.
The counseling went well, and she was grateful for the anonymity, so that she could just be another face, another nameless soul that would not matter in the grander scheme of things. After all, after a lifetime of being a princess, a vice-captain, a hero, and a sister, she was ready to shed all the pretenses away.
And she quickly made her way to Ichigo's door, perhaps too quickly for her tastes (or too slowly, depending on which angle you look at things, because one thing that she had took away from all those sessions was that she must embrace many sides of an argument). Still, she witnessed it as if it was a silent film, like it was just another trial or another hollow that she had to vanquish, another obstacle that she had to master.
"Orihime Inoue, will you marry me?"
"Yes, Ichigo Kurosaki."
As they kissed, the banshee from within was released and Rukia Kuchiki died as the screaming overtook her life.
A/N: Here's a quick attempt to write angst, or hopefully just something in a darker mood that I always liked reading. It's one of my earlier attempts, so please forgive me if there's some stuff that's not fully fleshed out, particularly regarding all the crazy flucuation emotions that Rukia and Ichigo are going through.
Inspiration came from reading another piece about the aftermath of war, how it just turns everyone for the worst as they've all shared something that others cannot comprehend without experiencing for themselves. Thus, came the whole idea about how in this world, because of the prolonged war (well, I think 11 years is long...), they've gone through so much bloodshed and loss that they're all warped by the end of it. Which is mainly why that Ichigo and Rukia can never be together; they shared history, yes, but the impact of the history crushed their souls into something else.
Another goal of mine was to finish this piece under 3000 words, which I think I did, as well as keeping the dialouge to a minimum. It was hard, but it was nice to challenge myself because I can write random and spiralling dialouge until who knows when, so that was fun as well.
Just a final quick note (sorry, this seems more like an essay about my experience more than anything else), I just want to clarify that Rukia is not a slut, nor is she suppose to some immoral person. I only made her resort to sleeping randomly with Ichigo, and perhaps several more as implied was because I think those actions would've numbed her the same way alcohol does, which means she dosen't have to focus on the war with Aizen. This is no part trying to degrade the characters; merely trying to extend how they would've reacted in a world were war became ingrained with whatever is left of their souls.
If there are any other questions, concerns, comments, or critisims, please feel free to drop a review. Even a "I hate it" or "Meh." would be nice. But of course, I would appreciate it even more if you can give me pointers HOW to improve, particularly when I have just started to veuture into the "darker" genres.
And until next time, everyone!
Idiotic.