Sparkles of Lemon-Green Flame
By: WhisperedSilvers
Prompt: "Psychology is the science of our minds."
Summary: He was the famous of infamous and soon, she would be too. —Rukia|Urahara
She had heard of him. He was one of the infamous. Her brother had a library in the tiniest corners of the Kuchiki household, her Nii-sama had mentioned it once, maybe twice, she couldn't tell—it was very rare that her brother would ever speak to her. She didn't complain, she would never complain—he gave her something that she didn't think she could ever pay back— a home and a name.
The library was a place where she could be wanted. There were very few people that entered the room; she would sit in one of the corners, reading books and books. It was a bit pathetic she thought; to have books as her only companion.
It was only a matter of time before she came across Kisuke Urahara's book.
—
It was a mission.
Head-Captain Yamamoto assigned her a hollow-extermination mission in the World of the Living. She was mentally jumping all over the place with excitement—she's never been to the World of the Living—but she nodded with acceptance and left with her head held high.
Her brother wasn't home.
She felt a twinge of something—something that plucked at her heartstrings. She wrote a letter and left it on his desk. She left the Soul Society with a clear goal in focus—exterminate, rise higher in the ranks, and make your brother proud.
She came to the conclusion that this, was perhaps, a bit out of her league. But she was Rukia Kuchiki—there wasn't anything that she couldn't handle.
Hollows were appearing in a place called Karakura Town—which inevitably was the beginning of her end.
—
Then she stumbled upon an orange-haired moron and she found something that she secretly, desperately desired, and something she didn't need. What human could see souls, spirits—hell, what human had spiritual pressure? She didn't think about it then, because the presence of a hollow washed over and she was moving before she realized.
The damned fool rushed blindly in, his sister in the claws of some deformed hollow, drooling and roaring—he was shoved back and she took his place—her zanpakuto blocking the brunt of the blow, but she was bleeding heavily when she was knocked back.
Ichigo, she learnt, with his stupid amber eyes that glinted with justice and determination broke her a bit—she gave him her power, because he needed it, she needed it, his family needed it—and it was her sworn duty to protect innocent souls.
The bastard took nearly all of her powers.
She didn't have a choice. She had to visit him.
—
Kisuke Urahara wasn't exactly in the best of moods when he had to open the door in the pouring rain; he felt it—that small waver a spiritual pressure and he just had to open it.
With a bright sunny voice, he opened the door, "I apologize, but as you can see the shop is clearly closed—"
His voice came to a quiet yet curt halt, his eyes widened when he took in her bloody, half-ripped white robe and her eyes that were a tinged annoyed and bleaker than the thunder clouds above, "Gigai. Now."
It was instinct, Urahara grabbed by her shoulders, half-afraid and half-confused at to why a Soul Reaper is in Karakura Town, she was pale, and if she stayed any longer outside in the rain, he wasn't quite sure what infection she can acquire. He called for Tessai, he came running, sputtered and grabbed a towel. Ururu, now awake, urged to take a shower, while she dressed her wounds after.
"I must admit," Urahara started off, his hat hid the emotional expression in his eyes, he sat under the table, she sat there, with a warm robe over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of tea in front of her, "I never thought a Soul Reaper would come to my shop."
Rukia's eyebrow ticked at his very light tone, but she remained expressionless, "You are the only person in the World of the Living that does sell items that belong to the Soul Society."
"Correction, I am a scientist that sells merchandise that are alike those from the Soul Society."
She looked at him blankly, she raised the cup to her lips and sipped, "Same thing." She placed the cup on the table, "I need a Gigai."
He nodded understanding, "I have a question."
Rukia looked at him with violet eyes, "What is it?"
"What happened to your reiatsu?"
She blinked and then winced, "I sort of gave it to a… human?"
Urahara blinked, his eyes were slate, darker than his normal silvery gleam, his mouth tightened, his voice was grave, "Do you realize what you have done?"
She grimaced, her hands fisted into her robe, "I had no choice."
Kisuke took a minute to assess her; she was small, very small and somewhat—Kuchiki. She probably was a Kuchiki, she reminded him of Byakuya, Yoruichi's pupil. But she had a quiet confidence, modest—unlike Byakuya. She glinted with justice, honor and everything that he wishes he were, and an idea struck him.
She had big purple eyes—amethyst purple eyes and they were wide, frosty maybe, and they were deep—like pools, and small, pink thin lips.
He blinked. Inappropriate. His voice was rough, "Fine. I'll build you a gigai." He tried to blink the haze out of his eyes, his hat shielding his expression, his voice turned lighter, a bit more jovial, "But I'll need your measurements."
He didn't mean for that to come out so pointed and lecherous.
Rukia glared at him.
Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad—he felt slightly bad for going through with this, but he had to do it.
He found a host.
He would be seeing her for quite some time.
—
Time had gone on. It was autumn now and Rukia came to the shop. She needed to pick up her new shipment, and her memory replacer—she dubbed it as. Unfortunately, she received the wrong order, it was a mod soul—and Urahara went back to find her and give her a full refund.
Rukia surprised him, she grabbed the pill back and with that cool and calm expression of hers, she replied that she was satisfied with her product.
He blinked again, her eyes were brighter and her hair was just as dark as the night sky.
He left with thoughts of hope.
—
The next time she saw him it was midnight. She had been wandering around the park, the moon glimmering ivory and she sat on the park bench. Her eyes closed, her mouth twitched, ruining the image of a perfect line, "Is there something I can help you with Urahara?"
He sat down on the bench, pale hair almost white, "Isn't it a little too late for a midnight stroll?"
"Can't sleep."
Urahara hummed in understanding tone, her hair had blue highlights, and "You're going to be in a lot of trouble."
"I know," Rukia spoke ruefully, her eyes opened and she looked at the sky, "Trouble always seems to follow me."
He tried again, "You're probably going to die."
A moment passed, "I know."
Acceptance.
He felt something pull in his stomach, a clot form in the opening of his throat, his eyes glittered lighter than smoke, "I'm sorry."
It surprised her, the apology, "What do you have to apologize for? I'm responsible."
He didn't say anything after.
—
Her gigai was giving her problems—it was making her human. She could feel it in her bones, the wide, expressive eyes, the emotions, the thoughts—everything. She was getting vulnerable—she can't afford for this to happen—her powers were weakening.
Five times.
She called him five times—she even left a voicemail.
She cursed him, was her phone not working either?
She marched over to his store, her arms tight and a scowl marred onto her face.
She demanded that she wanted to see Urahara—grabbing his fan when he greeted her joyfully, brightly; she threw it back at his face.
"I've been calling you all day, why the hell haven't you been answering?" Rukia nearly growled.
Urahara laughed, brightly, "Really? You've been calling me all day?"
He knew, he just didn't pick up, and he knew why she was calling him. He was horrible—terrible, to put an innocent girl in the clutches—to use her as a pawn. The guilt ate at him—sometimes he would wake up in the middle night, having nightmares of those gorgeous, innocent—purple, violet orbs blank, lifeless and dead.
It made him want to scream.
"Don't flatter yourself!" It came out wrong, she noted, "My gigai has been acting up and you're—"
Her phone beeped.
A hollow.
It disappeared, she blinked, when she opened her phone, closing her phone and putting in her pocket, she glared, "What can you tell me about a Quincy."
Kisuke raised his eyebrows; "I haven't heard that name in a long time."
She grabbed his fan again and threatened to throw it at him.
He raised his hands up in surrender, "Alright! Quincies were a class of humans that were exterminated."
"Exterminated?"
"Yeah," He paused to scratch his chin, "They were a class of special humans. They could see spiritual pressure, hollows—just like Soul Reapers. Their mission in life, just like Soul Reapers were to exterminate hollows, unfortunately, when they destroyed hollows—they actually destroy them. As you know, a hollow is a soul that has been staying into the World of the Living either from regret or something among those lines. Soul Reapers—their zanpakutos are able to purify the hollows, sending the souls to the Soul Society—Quincies do not." Urahara sat up, "It also led them to their downfall—Soul Reapers had to kill them from destroying the world—their souls are very unstable."
Rukia absorbed the information slowly—she thought about Uryu.
Her phone beeped again.
She raised her eyebrows, "Another hollow?"
It shut off.
"What?" Rukia screwed her eyebrows together, "Is Ichigo—"
Another beep.
Another.
Another.
Rapid beeping, "What the hell is going on?"
Urahara could be seen hiding his stern expression under the cover of his hat.
—
"Run! Ichigo! Run Ichigo!" Rukia screamed, she couldn't do anything, she had no power, no nothing, and "You can't defeat a Menos Grande!"
Ichigo couldn't seem to hear her; he was just staring at the Menos—fifty times bigger than a skyscraper, and the loud, ear-shattering roar that shook the very foundations of the earth.
Urahara was here, with Tessai and Jinta and Ururu—they were taking care of the minor hollows and she stood next to Urahara with concern etched all over her face.
"You idiot!" She snapped, she rushed forward, but two fingers stood up and she stumbled towards the ground, her eyes wide.
A binding spell?
Urahara looked at her remorsefully, "Sorry—not yet. Just watch, there is a reason for my madness."
Rukia could've sworn that she saw something like regret flash through his eyes.
—
"How long can you keep pretending?"
Rukia doesn't answer, but her eyes are almost electric when she looks at him. The wind blows and it's dusk again. Urahara allowed his hat to fall off; he grabbed it before it can blow away, and tucked it underneath his arm.
His hair is a pale blonde—it looks almost like a dark gold underneath the sun. She looked at him for a while. The sun is setting and she feels like—she feels like this may be the end.
"They're coming soon—the two of them are here."
Her heart feels like it's encased in ice.
She hasn't felt fear in a long time.
"It was nice meeting you, Urahara." Rukia finally replied, her tone was almost as light as his normal voice, and it been something inside him harden.
Gods, his heart hurt.
It wasn't shock that filtered through his system, it was the feeling of being able to grab something, but it being so close that you could feel the burning sensation cross your hands, "Rukia."
It was the first time he ever called her by her name.
She sounded like she was saying goodbye.
His heart was burning and he felt tense all over.
She looked at him, and it was like seeing his dream all over again.
Dead—lifeless, dark violet eyes—blank.
Kisuke spoke, his words were honest and hoarse, "Don't give up—don't give up hope."
His fists tightened.
She didn't understand, and so, she didn't believe.
—
A month passed by and she felt kind of silly for not believing in him.
He was Kisuke Urahara—he had a hold on her that she'll never be able to break.
Ichigo broke the chains.
I wanted to try something different. I always liked the idea of Rukia/Urahara. I don't know—I really kind of liked this?
Please Review!