Courage
Disclaimer: Kubo-sama owns the awesomeness of Bleach.
Pairings: IchiRuki, some onesided RenRuki, and maybe RukiHime if you swing that way.
Summary: No one has ever told Rukia that they loved her. Also known as "Five Times They Couldn't Tell Rukia, And One Time They Could."
i. disgust
The dark-haired woman- no more than a girl, really- gently lays the baby's head against the cool brick wall. A bright ray of sunlight warms the darkened alley for a moment, then fades, leaving that chilly feeling of after-heat sliding down her arms.
Hisana tightens the shawl around her shoulders and stares at the tiny creature before her. She's never understood why everyone she knows feels that insane urge to coo and coddle over babies and call them ridiculous things like 'beautiful' and 'darling'. She's never found them so. Just wrinkled up lumps of flesh and half-finished bones, to be fed and diapered and cared for. Little pests that take up your time and your life. And so she doesn't understand what's so different about this baby, except that sometimes, when the sun hits her eyes just right, Hisana sees Mother in them. And sometimes, when she cocks her head in that curious way of hers, it's almost like Father's there, peeking questioningly over her shoulder like he always used to do.
Hisana leans forward compulsively, her lips almost brushing baby Rukia's cheek. "I don't love you," she says absently. "How can I? You're not old enough. I don't even know you. And I guess I never will." She stands slowly, giving the baby one last look. "I don't," she insists, and then she flees, fear chasing her like some dark, ominous shadow.
Hisana's afraid of dying, and so the words stay, burning a gaping hole in the pit of her stomach.
ii. lust
Renji stands in the shower, cool hands embracing the heat in his groin. The warm water licks down his face, sliding down his chest and pooling around his feet. He promised himself he wouldn't do this, that this time, when he turned the tap the water battering his head would be cold.
He moans and leans back against the slick wall. Stop it, he berates himself. Stop it! But even as he says this, his hands pump faster and faster and he's riding on an unbelievable high and can't get off. It's too wonderful, too overwhelming, too damn addicting, and soon he's losing himself in the moment. The feeling has trapped him again, and there's no breaking free of it.
"Rukia!" Another moan; he cuts himself off with a harsh gasp. He doesn't understand why he won't allow himself to say it, even alone. Anyone else he could practically rape and he wouldn't even give a damn, But Rukia- he actually cares about her. The idea just doesn't compute in his 'fuck-'em-and-leave-'em' philosophy. How can you be friends with someone and still end up in this state every single night?
And so, like always, Renji remains silent, leaving things needing to be spoken left unsaid.
Renji's afraid of rejection, and so the words stay lodged in his throat.
iii. pride
Byakuya never looks at Rukia. Even he doesn't know why.
Sometimes he thinks it's because of her striking resemblance to Hisana, his late wife and her older sister. But if being reminded of her everyday causes such pain, why do pictures of her line the walls? Why, every morning, does he kneel down, fold his hands and talk to her, sometimes for hours on end? If seeing her face all the time distresses him so, how has he not gone mad?
Sometimes, he thinks it's because of her insolence, her ability to be harsh and demanding and still command great dignity while doing so. He hates that about her, how she can do something rash and get away with it. Of course, her little acts never work on him. He fully understands just what she is doing. It is only because he is her Nii-sama that he never punishes her too harshly.
But sometimes, in the quiet of his own home, he admits the truth to himself.
Because, sometimes, when he sees her determined, serious look, he finds himself appreciating that stubbornness; a quality soft, gentle Hisana never possessed. And sometimes, when she looks up at him and her hair is parted just so, he notices how beautiful she really is with that lone loose strand of hair in the centre of her face, different than smiling Hisana's own thin, unruly strands. Sometimes, he sees Rukia for who she really is, not for whom she represents, and that terrifies him.
Byakuya is afraid of forgetting, and so the words catch on his tongue.
iv. loyalty
Shiba Kaien doesn't give a damn about anything. Least of all his trouble-making, wide-eyed, wet-behind-the-ears Kuchiki subordinate, and the fact that she comes from a noble house means nothing to him. He'll do damn well as he pleases, thank you very much.
It doesn't matter that sometimes he catches her looking at him with something other than awe in her eyes. It doesn't matter that sometimes he catches himself looking at her in the exact same way.
Kaien prides himself on the fact that he has never once cheated on his wife, though he has had ample chance to do so. He's not sure, but he likes to think that in his previous life, he was somewhat of a ladies man. He wouldn't be surprised if it was some STD that had wound up killing him in the first place.
So when he sees Rukia looking at him like that, he shrugs it off, makes some joke about 'damn kid hero-worship' and enjoys watching her blush for a time. And when his eyes sometimes wander to where they shouldn't, he gives himself a firm pinch and a reminder of what his wife would do to him if she knew. For some odd reason, the idea of his brains being splayed across the coffee table was a major turn-off for him.
He can't encourage that idea of him for her, so he chases the thoughts away with jokes and pats on the backs.
Kaien's afraid of hurting, and so the words refuse to fall from his lips.
v. anger
They tumble through the sheets, the sound of their laboured breathing the only noise in the room. He's sticky, and sweaty, and damn does his ass hurt, but he doesn't care. He's here, in the moment, a moment he most likely will have forgotten by tomorrow.
They never talk when they make love. It's all harsh gasps and teeth and lips clawing their way down tender stomachs and muscle. It's a rough sort of love, or it would be if it were love. Which it most definietely isn't. What kind of person leaves marks all over the person he loves?
Ichigo isn't good enough for her, and so he forces the thoughts from his mind. Right now, this moment, is all that matters. Tomorrow, they'll go to school, maybe pick off a few Hollows, eat lunch. Tomorrow, maybe they'll tease Ishida, and maybe Keigo will tease them. Then, tomorrow, maybe they'll laugh and go out for ice cream.
Maybe, tomorrow, Rukia will be taken from him again. Maybe, tomorrow, she'll be gone.
Ichigo's afraid of losing, and so the thoughts clang through his head but never, ever break the silence.
vi. innocence
"Kuchiki-san! Kuchiki-san! Come sit with us!"
Rukia blinks and looks up, the bright sunlight scalding her eyes. Inoue is there, waving like a maniac, standing in the middle of street like there's not a million and half cars speeding by. As she watches, Tatsuki-chan takes her firmly by the arm and leads her away from immediate danger.
Rukia doesn't understand Inoue. And the times she thinks she does, the amber-haired girl will suddenly pop out with something totally unexpected, and Rukia will again be confused and unsure. She admits to herself that Orihime is the only person she knows who has made her react like that.
They sit together on the damp grass, long after everyone else has left. Rukia hides a grin as she listens to Inoue's insistent chatter. For some reason, Orihime can talk and talk and babble on about nothing, but make people listen like it's the most important thing in the world.
Rukia laughs, and realizes, again, that Inoue is the only person she knows who can make her laugh genuinely. Ichigo, she laughs at sadistically, when he's in an uncomfortable position. Kaien and Renji, the same. Inoue is on a whole different plane than anyone else she cares-or cared- for.
Orihime suddenly leans close and whispers something into Rukia's ear, then rocks back and giggles at Rukia's frozen expression. When she can finally find her voice again, she manages, "Wh-what did you say, Inoue-san?"
Her delighted grin is contagious. "I said I really like you, Kuchiki-san. A lot. Except not, you know, 'like-like' 'cause that'd be ewwy. But, maybe, like a sister? Yeah, like a sister." The smile spreads across her face. "I love you, Kuchiki-san. And I," her eyes dart around conspiringly, "really want to thank you for training with me in Soul Society. I know I didn't do much, but…." Now her eyes lower slightly, staring at her hands. "I really, really appreciate it. Thank you."
Rukia doesn't say anything, still caught on those three little words. Eventually, she realizes that Inoue is expecting a response. "Uh, you're welcome," she says finally.
I love you, Kuchiki-san.
Orihime is afraid of lots of things. Spiders, hollows, even the dark sometimes.
Rukia thinks Inoue is the bravest person she knows.
:Owari:
