Me: I needed to write something, I don't even care what it is anymore. This writers block needs to die.
Ichigo: This is probably the first het you've written since your first story.
Me: So sue me, I needed to do something.
Orihime: She, eh, doesn't own anything?
Inspired by: Avril Lavigne Sk8er Boi
Ichigo wasn't entirely sure when he'd fallen for the Soul Reaper Rukia. When he'd first seen her, he'd been scared out of his mind. Not that he'd ever admit it. And he hadn't been scared of Rukia, but a giant spirit hunting thing that was trying to kill him had distracted him for the most part.
When he'd next seen her, she'd proven to be violent, hotheaded, and a piss poor artist. She was however, ultimately sympathetic to him, he knew she was kind. He imagined this was what his friends went through to be friends with him. Seeing someone, recognizing they weren't a total jerk, and liking them even when they acted like it.
The third time, and all it seemed to have taken, was when she stabbed him. The flow of power was unbelievable, the rush indescribable and frankly Ichigo wasn't sure if he wanted to go back in time and live that moment forever, or rush into his destiny and never remember that moment again. It had felt good, almost too good. Like having a sweet tooth, but getting ahold of something far too sweet, enjoying it, and being repulsed by it at the same time.
It took a while, but soon the two were great friends, he could even forget the fact that she lived in his closet, pestering him, for most of the day. Uryu was especially fond of her. But Chad, Tatsuki and Orihime all loved her to pieces as well. She may be a sociopathic bunny loving midget. But, some days she made it easy to forget that. She was cute, in a way. Not just physically but, there was a certain charm in helping someone who claimed to be far older and wiser than you would ever be, open a simple juice box.
On the whole, Rukia was….unpredictable. She was rebellious and dutiful, violent and sweet, and both comforting and cruel. Ichigo wasn't sure if he was to receive a well-intentioned warning, or a slap, a kick, or a hug. All in all, nothing he couldn't handle. He did live with Isshin Kurosaki after all. It was odd then that when all of their friendships solidified, that Rukia began to pull away. Until one night, having pieced together all the poorly drawn clues, Ichigo had met two more Soul Reapers. In the end, despite his skill, he fell. And as he lay on the ground, all he could think of was her. All he could think of was that magnificent pulse of power that had changed him, and condemned him to this. And then he thought of her again. And again. And again. And he thought of her smile, and her glare. And he thought of her horrible drawing skills, and he smiled through the blood, because he loved her, and he hadn't even known it.
When Ichigo learned of what was happening, he pushed himself to his limits and beyond. It didn't matter that something in him was broken, because Ichigo was a passionate person, and the person who stood in his sight, surrounded by the flames he embodied, was the single most important creature to him. He loved his friends, but this was much different.
"Ryoka!"
"Ryoka!"
"Ryoka!"
Apparently even after he wasn't the enemy anymore, he wasn't good enough to be asked for his name. Renji knew. Ikkaku knew. Byakuya knew. It seemed to get any respect around here you needed to damn near kill someone.
In the end she knew everything.
It wasn't like he could keep it from her once he knew himself. Ichigo would never be the type of person who could do that. No, far better to be honest.
Yet, in the end.
"I have to tell you something. It's only right that you be the first to know. I've decided, Ichigo, to stay here, In the Soul Society."
She acknowledged what he had felt. And he supposed with the looks he was getting from everyone, that was as good as it was going to get. So he smiled, and was happy for her, because he didn't know how to do anything else.
"Well that's just fine. Good for you. Well, sounds like you've made up your mind, so there's not much else to say. If you've decided that you wanna stay here, then that's what you should do."
And he left. Barely noticing Orihime walking next to him the whole way. Not even noticing the little frown.
It's not that Rukia was weak, or a bad person, or even ambivalent to his feelings. She was just concerned about how it would look. And Ichigo wasn't sure if it was more for his benefit, or hers.
The exciting days of Ichigo's past had come and gone. He was a grown man now, a doctor, like his father. Of course he had stand-ins, he was still the Substitute Soul Reaper. Though, his future was looking pretty good, he had been offered a spot in the Gotei 13. Of course, he planned on reaching an acceptable age before that. And his wife would be quite displeased if he up and died without warning.
*Knock Knock*
"Come in."
Of all the faces he expected. Rukia's was not one of them.
"Ichigo. I know, it's been forever. I just…Was wondering. All those years ago, when you rescued me…"
"Yeah?"
"Could you ever…Maybe…Feel that way again?"
"I'm sorry Rukia, no." Where did that come from?
"Ah. No. It's fine, just, morbid curiosity."
Ichigo frowned, what had her so speculative?
"Why now?"
Rukia froze on her way to the door. Ichigo thought on the odd fact that they hadn't even greeted each other, simply jumped into a conversation. He suppressed the belated urge to say hello.
Rukia blushed deeply. "Sorry, it just seems that everybody's found someone, and I'm just here alone."
"You'll find someone. Midget."
"Take that back!"
"Okay, you'll live alone."
"Not that!"
It was like being that young idealist again. And it was nice. But even now, when he wasn't as quick, he was in the prime of his life, he was happy and he preferred this. After Rukia left, he'd finished his wrap up, and went home.
"I'm back."
There was no answer. Which could of course mean that she was asleep, or focused deeply. And there was always the option that Ichigo should be very afraid. There was no scent coming from the kitchen though, so he should be safe.
"Orihime?"
"Oh! Sorry Ichigo, I'm in here!" Came the flustered reply from the sitting room.
Following the voice he arrived to find his wife typing happily away on a laptop. Walking over and placing his hand on her shoulder, he bent down; the words on the screen didn't make much sense to him. It was clearly a story, but he wondered where Orihime had gotten the inspiration. Her last book had been two years passed, and she said she wasn't sure what to write next.
"What are you writing?" He finally asked when she showed no signs of coming out of her world.
"Oh!" She hastily pecked him on the cheek "How was work?"
"Filled with sick people. What are you writing? Don't be shy, I'm sure it's great."
"It's about you."
"Huh?"
"About you and Rukia, and the adventures we all had."
Ichigo quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure the Gotei 13 would be best pleased."
Orihime wiggled in that happy way of hers and hopped around to face him. "But, I already thought of that!" She grinned "I made you all ghosts instead of Soul Reapers, who~oooo~ooo ." Punctuated, of course with the scary grab hands she always made when talking about anything vaguely supernatural.
"Okay then." Ichigo laughed "I'm taking a shower and going to bed. Want me to make you something to eat?"
"Oh no, I cooked today, there are leftovers in the fridge."
Biting back fear, Orihime rarely cooked these days, he asked what she had made.
"Clam chowder with candy corn and barbeque sauce, it was good!"
"Ah, thanks, I ate at work though, so I'll see you in the morning? You'll be writing all night?"
"You know me so well." She said with a laugh, lunging to her feet and pressing a kiss to his lips before spinning back to her chair.
All these years later, still so energetic, still silly, and still an awful cook. And he loved her, so she was perfect. So he laughed, because he didn't know how to do anything else, and smiled because he didn't need to. He kissed her one last time on the top of her head.
"Night, Orihime. Don't ever change."
And he closed the door to prepare for another day.
It's random. Sorry. Did you like it? 'Cuz I actually don't hate it, which is odd for me.
