Never Been Kissed
Disclaimer/Warning: Me own Bleach? No chance. A quick warning: most of my IchiRuki stuff thus far has been fluffy, but this...well...isn't. Also, this is placed somewhere after the current arc. That said, please enjoy!
She waved goodbye, promising to return soon. She always did. Whether she was returning to Soul Society or just taking a walk to clear her mind, she promised. It was an unspoken pact between them, a pact to fight, to live—if not for themselves, then for the other.
She tried. She really had. She'd tried to fight.
In retrospect, Rukia supposed she should have listened to Ichigo more closely. She shouldn't have brushed off his gruff warnings and veiled worries as he explained the perils of a girl walking alone. She shouldn't have been so sure that she had herself covered. Rukia had believed that her history in Rukongai had prepared her for anything this mundane world could dish out.
Wrong.
She'd been so, so wrong.
"I—Ichi...go." She spoke his name even though she knew he was miles away. Some part of her vainly hoped that he'd hear her and come.
So stupid.
Rukia tried to sit up, tried to move, but the pain was too much. At the same time that she needed him here, she wasn't about to let him see her like this. Broken, bleeding...weak. She prayed for help and cursed the possibility of it at the same time.
She should have known.
She should have known, when those men asked if she needed any help, that help was not what they wanted to give. She shouldn't have thought that all the guys here were like Keigo and Mizuiro...like Sado and Ishida.
I should have run away.
Tears built in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, cleaning paths through the blood to the bruised skin beneath it. Her breath came in sobs that were part gasp for air. Help me. Help me, please.
She was bleeding. She didn't know where, but she knew she was. Her awareness ebbed away with her blood, and her sight faded, too. If she looked hard, she could see the blood she'd left in her struggle. On the walls, spatters, rivulets, deep, long marks from sliding down. On the ground, dripping, slipping, crawling outward. On herself...everywhere.
She couldn't die. She couldn't let herself. She'd promised to return.
Rukia didn't feel the pain anymore. She couldn't feel the pain of the violation she'd endured, the wounds they'd inflicted during and afterwards. Everything...everything was fading, now. She welcomed it at the same time she feared it, and because she feared it, she fought. Ichigo!
Her tears slowed and she tried to sit up. She couldn't.
"Rukia? Where are you?"
The voice...so familiar. It was the one she'd said goodbye to so many times. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but he was too far away to hear it. "I didn't mean to—I didn't know—" She heard his frantic calls and the running footsteps. Rukia! Rukia! He called her name. He turned the corner, and the first words he heard out of her mouth were, "I didn't know...I'm sorry—It's my fault."
He stopped there, at the end of the alleyway, still bathed in light. She loved that hair. Stupid carrot-top. His eyes were wide, and those perpetually scowling eyebrows had for once risen. She liked it when they did. He looked younger, like all the tragedies of his past had for a single moment been swept away. She tried a smile. "Hey...Ichigo."
He still didn't move. "Rukia...?"
His voice was fading. Was that him or was it her? She stared straight up at the sky above. It would rain today.
"I'm sorry Ichigo."
He didn't seem able to move or to speak. "What...could you possibly...be sorry about?" he finally choked out.
Rukia breathed shallowly. "I know you hate the rain," she said. Then she whispered. "Hold me. I'll shield you from it."
Was it cowardice, not wanting to die alone? Was she being greedy to want to feel him just once, feel him so close to her?
He stumbled forward, and by now she could see the tears in his eyes, the only hint of the raging storm she knew was going on inside him. He walked three steps and stumbled onto his knees, crawling forward and grabbing her, holding her closely, touching her hair, her lips. His tears slipped down his cheeks. Rukia felt horrible to make him feel this again. I'm sorry. "I...wasn't able to stop them. They were...too fast. So kind, at first. Helping me find my way. Then... I didn't expect it. I should have listened. I'm sorry."
A gentle finger whispered over her lips. "Shh," Ichigo said. He didn't say anything, didn't assure her that she'd be okay, even though she could see the absurd hope in his eyes. He didn't tell her to hold on, because he didn't want her to hurt. He just held her. He smoothed her tattered skirt down over her legs, covering her. He traced her cheeks with soft fingers, and as the cold rain fell, he leaned over her, his tears dripping down onto her dress.
Rukia sat up with an effort and wrapped her arms around his neck. She lifted her head over his shoulder, trying as much as she could to shield him from the torrential downpour. He hated the rain, and because of her, it was falling. She contented herself by holding him. They'd never embraced like this before, never kissed, and yet she knew him better than she knew herself. They were the same, souls broken apart by violence.
She loved him. "Ichigo..."
As he held her, he said goodbye. He didn't finish the pact this time, because he knew she wouldn't return.
I'm sorry. I'll miss you. "I love you," she said.
He held her in his arms until the end.
Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for writing such a depressing fic. Sometimes, I wonder if Rukia and Ichigo will truly only admit their feelings for each other in such a severe situation. Please review and tell me if you liked or even if you didn't! This is my first try at a serious IchiRuki oneshot, so I'm not sure if I did okay.
