A/N: So there I was, working on revising 'Far More', when The Only Exception by Paramore starts to play, then BAM, HitsuKarin fic. (it was the music that had my gears turning, as the lyrics are pretty irrelevant, hence why I titled it after the Dashboard Confessional song), so here's the product of that.
Probably the most melodramatic thing I've written so far, but I like it, and I hope you all do too. Enjoy and please review!
Summary: If she was going to live a soap opera, then her cliffhanger ending was going to involve him one way or another. AU.
Warning: Slight OOC
Disclaimer!: I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.
Vindicated
Strapless; her shoulders were bare. Exposed to the chilly atmosphere of the room, of which was non-existent, but she had convinced herself otherwise. The reasons why, she wasn't sure.
Perhaps it was the actuality of blistering heat wafting in through the windows, woven into the light breeze on this unnaturally warm spring day, that had her tricking her own mind to believe the opposite, for the sake of not perspiring in the confines of this dress.
An ivory corset bust with flower pattern, embroidered in vanilla lace, flaring out at the hip into a pleated skirt, trailing along the hardwood floor with every anxious step she took.
She'd never felt so foreign in her own skin before.
A girl in the midst of her twenty-second year loitered in a downtown coffee shop, her long ashy hair splayed about the sofa cushion as she kicked back into a casual sitting position, obsidian eyes fixed on her book, and her book alone.
A searing hot cup of tea was presented to her out of the blue, a beverage of which she hadn't ordered, yet she accepted it, absentmindedly, her attention never wavering from the tidings of her current novel. Not even to regard her presenter, as, if she had met those striking sea-green eyes and shocking mess of white hair, she would've realized her patron did not, in fact, work there.
A smirk played the boy's lips, as, not in all his twenty-five years of existence, had he been so blatantly disregarded. He was intrigued. Even more so than earlier, the previous month when he first laid eyes on her, when he had taken up shop in the corner of the frequented cafe, just to observe her as she read 'The Sun Also Rises' in a single, two hour sitting.
He had repeated this venture ever since; every Tuesday and Thursday, when he'd have a day off, he'd go there and just sit. Upping his tab, attracting the curious and nosy presences of the entire restaurant's staff, while the girl of his recent dreams was none the wiser; oblivious to the unrelenting attention she had attracted.
He'd gathered all the information this one-sided relationship could provide; he'd noted each and every nuance, committed to memory what he assumed was every outfit and ensemble her wardrobe consisted of, and even tracked the three different ways she styled her hair: up, down, and a one-sided braid.
And now, he would forsake this stalker-esque role he played in the peripheral of her life.
The doting man took a seat straight across from her, kicking one foot up to rest on the opposite knee as his left cheek rested on curled knuckles, and he stared at her; basking in her presence, feeling his heart race with anticipation, and lastly, just getting one last look at her, as, if this went sour, he surely wouldn't get away with his previous feats any longer.
And eventually, "I swear a train could crash through this building and you wouldn't move a muscle."
That halted her precedent of turning the fifty-sixth page, and finally, after what felt like decades, she met his gaze, "Excuse me?"
The curl at the corner of his lips had her cheeks tingling, threatening to tinge, "Nah.. now that I think about it, you'd probably complain about the noise and debris interrupting your reading."
"Are you making fun of me?"
A light chuckle escaped him, "Just a little." a scowl etched its way onto her angelic features, fueling his amusement, "You brought it on yourself, the way you zone out like that."
"I wasn't aware that enjoying a book was a crime," she retorted dryly, marking her page and setting the book in her lap,
"Well, I've enjoyed quite a few books in my day as well, and even I can tell the difference between ordering a cup of tea from a waitress and receiving one from a total stranger." a gleam of idiocy accompanied her sudden sheepish look, and she stole a glance at her cup, recognition finally setting in, "You're welcome, by the way."
Her indifferent visage returned as fast as it had gone, and she gracefully stood up, slipping the book into her shoulder bag, "Thank you for the gesture, but I don't drink tea."
"No, you don't," he agreed coolly, his smirk ever present, "you prefer black coffee with four sugars and cream on the side."
She cast him a momentary look of shock, then scowled, "Stalk much?"
"Only you."
However it was possible to make such a confession attractive, he surely just demonstrated it, and she found herself fumbling, "Well.. that's just.."
"The most romantic thing you've ever heard?" he offered with a pretentious gleam and stood as well, "I know."
Rounding the small rectangular table that separates them, he planted himself before her, prompting the crane of her neck for the sake of meeting his eyes, "Toshiro Hitsugaya," he claimed handsomely, catching her slightly off guard, and he raised a frosty brow at her muteness, ".. this is where you tell me your name."
"Uh..." she snapped out of her daze with a prominent flush, "Karin Kurosaki."
Her blush only deepened at the winsome smile he cast her, and it was a good thing she didn't notice the abundant crowd of spectators, or she probably would've broke down in embarrassment.
"Nice to finally meet you, Karin," he declared, his teal eyes bright and charming, "so, now that we're acquainted, how about you let me buy you a cup of coffee?"
"Uh.." she scratched her head, "I can't.. I have to go to work-"
"After, then."
His persistence had a cute ring to it, and a smile tugged at her lips, "If I say no, you're just gonna keep stalking me, aren't you?"
"Every Tuesday and Thursday."
A full-fledged smirk appeared, and she slung her bag over her shoulder, "Local radio station," she proceeded to the exit, "I get off at ten."
The shop's occupants waited until she was out the door to swoon and clap with glee, whilst Toshiro just smiled, feeling as elated as ever.
Empty; his apartment was deserted. Not that this was a surprise, as it had been this way for nearly fourteen months, vacant of textbooks she'd leave behind and various articles of clothing she'd forget, perhaps for the sole purpose of coming back, something he'd constantly convinced himself would happen.
But not today; he would no longer feign that belief, as today was the day her last name changed, that the third digit of her left hand would hold a ring, and she would finally, officially, be out of his reach.
Then again, all he had to do was make it there before she said those two little words of finalization.
Her apartment must've grown in size, given how much she had been running about the studio space, it surely had to have expanded, providing her with more room to play a frantic twenty-three year old girl, about to go on a date.
Mascara and an indistinct coat of rosy pink lipstick; that was her only means of makeup. She had once, on one occasion in the era of her teen years, worn a complete mask of foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner and obtrusive red lipstick, upon the recommendation of one Yuzu Kurosaki. But, given that her sister had been absent at the actual time of application, she had come out as more of an All Hallow's Eve participant than a goddess.
Hence, her decision to never wear makeup again.
And to complement this simplicity, she dressed in a partially lacy white blouse, tucked into a pair of high rise jeans, and she had to say, with all smugness, that she looked pretty damn good.
She just prayed he'd think so.
Having barely spent any time with him in the past few months, what with her schooling and his long hours at the hospital, they hadn't had a consistent schedule of dates or even interactions that lasted longer than an hour or two at most. But he'd finally taken a night off, she'd finally done her schoolwork beforehand, and they would, finally, have their third official date.
Practically skipping, she made to answer the knock at her door, and sure enough, she was presented with one Toshiro Hitsugaya, perfectly dishevelled alabaster hair and signature button up that accentuated his lean muscular figure, usual hands-in-pockets stature.
And of course, those eyes of brilliant teal, that even with dark circles due to the insomnia his job entailed, could still make her heart skip a beat; he was enthralling, to say the least.
Brimming with excitement, "Hey."
"Hey," he returned with the essence of a smile, albeit sleepy, and crossed the threshold, "you almost ready?"
"I am."
He gave her a once over, inwardly enticed, "Huh.." he nodded once, "alright, let's go."
Her brow creased, "What?"
"Nothing," he grinned, "I suppose I just fooled myself into believing you'd wear a dress."
"Me in a dress is a rarity, trust me," she ushered him out and locked the door behind them, then, with a slight frown, "why, do you not like what I'm wearing?"
He chuckled lightly, "Of course I do," she raised a brow, "you look beautiful Karin, stop making such a fuss," her lips twitched, threatening to turn up, and they began walking down the hallway to the elevator, "besides, I prefer you in jeans.."
"Is that so?"
"Mhm.." his features gleamed pretentiously and he pressed the 'down' button, "there's nothing like taking a pair of jeans off a woman.."
Shooting him a half-forced glare, she whacked his arm with the back of her hand, "Pervert.." he merely chuckled in response, and she crossed her arms over her chest, "you're not gonna be taking the pants off anyone but yourself..."
"There's always next time.."
.
Stomachs full of spaghetti and temporarily out of conversation, they ventured to the theatre.
"Oh!" Karin exclaimed as she regarded the movie posters along the cement wall, "Can we go see the new Batman movie?"
"I dunno.." Toshiro cast her a quizzical brow raise, "are you set on paying attention to every scene?"
"Well of course!"
"Then no," her face fell, and his features gleamed coyly, "'cause I don't intend on letting you watch the film at all." By her expression, he knew she understood, and so, he turned to the counter attendant with a couple bills, "Two tickets to whatever foreign movie's playing."
"And a box of chocolate covered raisins." Karin requested cutely, then met her date's look with a shrug, "What? They're delicious."
He just smirked and shook his head, digging in his pocket for the needed extra change.
.
"Nice work giving me a bunch of hickeys for school tomorrow," Karin muttered as they walked down the corridor to her apartment, "my friend's will have a field day with it.."
"Glad my efforts are appreciated."
She merely rolled her eyes, a smile of ambiance insuppressible, and began to rummage in her overly large satchel for her keys, whilst Toshiro leaned against the wall by her door, watching with amusement as she muttered a number of profanities at the contents of her bag, digging around furiously.
"Alright," she let out a sigh of relief once she found her key and stuck it in the lock, "well, this was quite the date Hitsugaya," she mirrored his visage, "let's do it again sometime.."
"How about next week?"
"Hmm.. I dunno," she mocked, "I'll have to check my schedule." she giggled lightly at his scowl, "I'm free on Saturday.."
"Saturday it is." he confirmed, cupping her chin with one hand and kissing her like they hadn't just done so in a deserted movie theatre for two hours; sweet, cool, and fire evoking. She felt a sudden surge, one that couldn't be ignored, so when he drew back and uttered his words of departure, she grasped his hand, halting him in his opposing steps.
His brow furrowed with question, a silent inquiry that she answered with a coy gleam, "You know, these jeans are always difficult to get off.." she shrugged noncommittally, "think you could help me?"
A first thought was unnecessary and he swiftly closed the distance, "It would be my pleasure."
Heavy; black gunk weighed down her eyelids. It was irritating, she had to strain every bone in her body not to wipe it off, to refrain from rubbing her eyes incessantly until the pain went away, until all that was left were black smudges smeared with tears that she'd blame on the whole makeup ordeal, but in reality, would use as an excuse to cry.
She didn't understand this anguish she was caught in. Wasn't this supposed to be the happiest day of her existence? full of smiles and Kodak moments, with the punchline of marrying the love of her life and having a happy ever after?
Something deep in her gut, perhaps her conscience, was arguing with her, opposing all this day supposedly stood for. Unrelenting.
Her bed felt too big that morning, too spacious without him, too empty where the side he slept on the night before was now cold and dishevelled, leaving nothing more than the essence that he'd even been there at all.
She'd grown accustomed to it over the past year, falling asleep with him at night and waking up alone in the morning; it was an occasional feat. It'd sometimes occur after the rarity that was a date, and other times it'd be a movie or two in her living room with popcorn. But more often than once, it'd just be a late night call; he'd head over after a long shift and she'd welcome him with open arms.
And it was beginning to plague her heart.
.
Blank and unfocused, that's how she took to studying that particular day. The words were blurred, the pictures were obscure, and it wasn't until she was joined by her best friend that she realized she was crying, albeit silently, and she quickly made to wipe the damned tears away before he could notice.
He knew something was up, however, and still went on to ask, "Are you okay?"
"Mhm," she feigned truth with a nod, acting as though the rubbing of her eyes was due to sleep deprivation, "just tired is all. These exams are really kicking my ass."
"Yeah, I know what you mean.." he appeared to being sizing her up, only briefly, "but you're sure everything's alright?"
"I'm fine, Shuuhei, really. Don't worry about it."
"Okay," he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, "change of subject then.." he just had to choose this topic, "how's the boyfriend?"
"I wouldn't know." she replied thoughtlessly, and at his brow raise, she realized what she had just said, "I mean.." she sighed in self-defeat, unable to think of a cover, "I just haven't really gotten to see him much lately..."
"Still working lots?"
She nodded with the makings of a bitter smirk, "Hot-shot of Karakura General.."
"Well.. he's doin' an honorable thing.." Shuuhei reasoned with an iffy tone, thoughtfully scratching his obtrusive face tattoo with his index finger, "saving lives and whatnot.."
She merely nodded in agreement, and with one last friendly nod, he stood, "Alright, I gotta get to class, or Muguruma will beat me."
She chuckled, "Okay, see you later."
"And Karin," she met his firm and caring expression, "don't play second best."
With that, he left her with even more to think and be vexed over.
.
Kurosaki family luncheon: Yuzu, Ichigo and Rukia, their father, and herself, all getting together once a month for dinner. And this time, Toshiro was invited.
But of course, he was late.
"Should we wait to eat?"
"Not very punctual."
"I'm sure he's on his way now."
"Oh my dear, Masaki! We're meeting our next son-in-law today!"
"Shut up goat-chin!" Karin finally snapped, "We're not even officially together! So lay off it already!"
She was beginning to think it was a bad idea, asking him to come. Perhaps she scared him off, 'cause, despite 'seeing' each other for over twelve months, they had yet to label it, and maybe this was too outward of her.
That thought was ridiculous, but she didn't even know what to think anymore, and his consistent absence wasn't helping; maybe she wasplaying second best..
Having ignored her undying hunger for far too long, she finally admitted defeat, "Okay, let's just eat-'
On cue, the doorbell sounded, and Karin was prompt to answer it.
"Sorry I'm late," a rather distressed Toshiro repented immediately, gasping for breath, "We had a gunshot victim come in last minute-'
"Oh!" she ushered him inside, "Are they alright?"
"Yeah yeah, minor scrape, twelve stitches.." to be so uncaring was far from reputable, "and when I finally got out, my car was boxed in by a bunch of M.I.A. assholes, so I had to run here."
"You ran all this way?" he nodded, still working to compose himself as he ran his hands through his hair, and a flattered smile played her lips, "Just for me..?"
"Said I'd be here, didn't I?" he smirked at her cute expression, "And you're the one who said Yuzu's cooking's to die for."
"Well," she grabbed his hand and began leading him down the hall towards the kitchen, "death's been awaiting."
Conflicted; his heart and morale opposed each other. One was urging him to go to her, before it was too late, to proclaim his love and win her back, while the other was telling him to stay put, to let her go and move on.
He was at a loss.
And soon, within the hour, the latter would win by default.
Overcast sky, calm breeze, and nothing to do. Her favourite kind of day.
Straddling him with her legs, she kissed the swelling into his lips, digging her nails into his taut flesh and fisting his soft tresses, stimulation heightened.
It was a third occurrence, in the year and a half they'd been together, that she woke up in his arms, as he claimed he had the day off, and she would take advantage of this by way of a movie marathon and take-out, but not before exploiting the enticing morning atmosphere.
However, just when she was reaching the point of ripping his remaining clothes off, as if on cue, his pager sounded, and as if he was a robot, programmed for nothing but serving the good of the people, he answered it, after only managing to ignore it for a minute.
Her face fell at the familiar look in his eyes as he read the message, and with a sigh, he met her gaze once more, "They need someone to fill in." she merely nodded and shifted off to the side, assuming a cross-legged position, "I don't have to-
"It's fine." she assured as kindly as possible, and he looked about to protest, prompting the addition, "Go on, save some lives."
"I'm really sorry," she simply waved him off, and he leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow," he claimed as he met her eyes again, "we'll go to dinner."
A genuine smile appeared, only serving to make him more reluctant to leave, yet he did so anyway, with one last kiss on her lips, he grabbed his few belongings and left, whilst Karin lazily splayed out amongst the disgruntled bed linens, looking forward to the next day.
.
He didn't call for three days. And when he did, she didn't pick up.
Tempting; her long dark hair was weaved and pinned up so perfectly. It was just begging to be tousled, messed up, and it took all her willpower not to comply.
She didn't know the twenty-five year-old woman staring back at her. She recognized her Maid of Honor and twin sister, Yuzu, standing behind her, pinning the veil into place, but she didn't recognize this reflexion. She looked nothing like herself. She felt ridiculous, like a barbie doll, a fake plastic tree, meant for dress up and decoration, not for a happy bride.
She wanted to escape; run away to sanctuary and never look back.
And when she considered where that safe haven was, really thought about it, dug deep into her desires, only one place came to mind.
He understood she was upset, so he had given her some space, a few days to cool off, but it had been an entire week since he last spoke with or saw her, and he was out of patience.
It was rather unceremonious, his incessant knocking on her door at three in the morning, straight from his fifteen hour day at the hospital, but he needed refuge, and the only form of such alleviation was this girl.
"What?" Karin snapped as she flung her door open, clad in bunny slippers and a t-shirt, her eyes instantly broadening at the sight of him, "Toshiro?" why she had been avoiding him hit her like a boomerang, prompting a scowl and less than welcoming tone, "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you."
"And you thought three o'clock in the morning was the time to do it?" his expression confirmed, "Well too bad, I have things to do later and I need to sleep."
She made to close, or rather, slam, the door on him, but his hand shot up at the same time, keeping her means of escape out of reach, "Will you stop ignoring me?"
"Why, am I treading on your territory?"
His eyes hardened, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno Toshiro," she mocked with a bitter rise and fall of her shoulders, "you're the genius, figure it out!" At that, she successfully slammed the door in his face and retreated back to her bed, leaving him both dumbstruck and angry.
"God dammit.."
So commenced relentless knocking on her door, fierce scolding from her neighbours, and eventually, falling asleep in the hallway.
.
She woke him at nine o'clock by way of dropping a juice pack in his lap. He regarded it for an instant before setting his gaze on her retreating figure, "So.. does this mean were good?"
She didn't answer.
Nostalgia; he recounted the span of their relationship, from beginning to end, all the fond memories and disputable ordeals, a wistful smile playing his lips.
He missed her laugh, the cute crinkle of her nose and hearty ripple of her voice, making it impossible not to join in. He yearned for her touch, so soft and gentle, it was heartbreaking to be deprived of. And lastly, he missed her eyes, whether flaring with anger or twinkling with ambiance; he missed all the ways she looked at him most of all.
He could beat himself to a bloody pulp for having been so stupid, having taken it all away from himself.
Verbal retaliation, cursing and the like, that was how most conversations went these days. But more specifically, between the dark haired beauty and her ivory haired suitor.
It'd been two months since what he termed the 'juice box incident', and throughout those eight odd weeks, she'd had a near-permanent glower, directed solely at him. Sure, there were times when she'd be smiling and laughing with him, kissing and hugging him, but moreover, she'd just be pissed off and distancing herself.
To say it bothered him would be the understatement of the year. It was like deja vu of that first hostile interaction, times a thousand, and he honestly, for the life of him, could not figure out why.
But he felt as if it was simple, on the surface, ready to be revealed and make him feel stupid. And so, he decided to propel the inevitable.
.
It was on the night of their first real date in three weeks, when he abruptly got a call from the hospital part way through dinner, and of course, made no attempt of ignoring it, that he pursued her infuriated self all the way to the parking lot,
"Why are you so upset?"
"'Why'?" with a caustic laugh and broad obsidian eyes, she whipped around to face him, "Why the fuck do you think?!" clearly, his brain wasn't working, "I'm sick of being a third wheel to you and your career!"
"Oh come on," he refuted, "that's a little exaggerated-
"A little?" she threw her arms up in frustration, "God, you are so fucking dense I can't fathom how you got the job in the first place!"
"Hey!" he grabbed her wrist as she made to turn away, "Will you stop being so goddamn stubborn and tell me what's wrong?"
"You!" she snapped without hesitance and freed herself from his grasp, "Us! This, whatever it is, I can't take it anymore!"
His face fell with that of anguish, "Don't-
"What?" she raised a brow, "You wanted to know, didn't you?" her tone was hauntingly calm, and she laughed in spite of herself, "I mean, we don't even have a real relationship anyway, it's just a string of one night stands with a few nice dates thrown in between, and now.." she couldn't believe she was finally saying it, "I'm just done with it."
"Karin-
She opposed the ache in her heart, "It's over, Toshiro."
"We can fix-
"There's nothing to fix," she argued coldly, "maybe if we had spent more than a week's worth of time together these past couple months there would be, but we haven't." The words caught in his throat, and in his silence, she began to walk away, "There's nothing left to save."
Anxious; with wandering eyes and shaking hands, she waits. There's only a matter of minutes, seven, to be exact, until she's meant to walk down that intimidating aisle and give up her romantic freedom to the man she claimed to love. To stand before all their friends and family, to say 'I do' with utmost commitment and kiss him with nothing but affection, to consummate their life long union with a sense of merriment.
It was what they had been planning for several months, five, to be exact, and now the wait was over, it was finally happening.
And she couldn't figure if this anxiety was out of joy, or sickness.
Resolve; he had finally made up his mind. He'd been brooding for the better part of the past hour, staring at the ivory ceiling above as his hair gradually dried, dampening the bed linens it splayed, and he had finally, unconditionally, yielded to his heart's content.
He figured it as such: if she turned him down, he'd be nowhere higher nor lower than he was now.
With utmost determination, he rose from his bed and bolted from the room, grabbing his keys and wallet on his path to the foyer, but once he emerged from the short hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks.
With immediate regard of the reason his door was wide open, his heart skipped a joyous beat.
He couldn't believe it. His heart refused to heed the truth, the blatant disclosure, printed in the corner on the front page of the most respected newspaper in the city; she was getting married.
To some hot-shot lawyer no less.
Not six months since they broke up, not four months since she had come back for break-up sex, and now, she was engaged to be married in the coming year.
Muttering an impertinent curse under his breath, he chucked the bulletin across the room and sunk into the sofa cushions, mental capacity in turmoil.
.
At work, he was all business. No smiles, not that there's much to tempt him into doing so. No small talk, not that a workaholic like himself would have anything to contribute to trivial conversation. And no kind gestures, just what's expected of the tenth department's head doctor and an everyday gentleman.
Impassive; near-permanent scowl and piercing eyes at the highest level of unreadable. That was his trademark, his facade when he was around anyone but her, and up till now, he had done a swell job at maintaining it.
But with this new information and heightened heartache, his emotions, that he had kept under lock and key for so long, were seeping through his mask, broadcasting the chaos that was his mind.
He knew his second in command had noticed, she had a way about these things. She was a people reader, the gossip cop of the hospital, with keen blue eyes and ever flowing strawberry-blonde hair, she was a meddlesome goddess.
So he shouldn't have been surprised at her prying presence that night as she spun her desk chair around and absentmindedly filed her nails,
"So, Taicho," he gave a sound akin to a grunt of acknowledgement, his eyes never straying from the clipboard in his hands, "who's the girl?"
"Eleven year-old with leukemia," he drawled, "how tragic.."
"I don't mean our little angel patient, dum-dum," at the unforgiving nickname, he snapped from his focused reverie and shot her a glare, to which she simply ignored and continued, "I mean, who's the girl, lady friend, the woman who's got you in this depressed stupor.."
He feigned ignorance and resumed filling out his report, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"There's no need to lie Taicho," he merely rolled his eyes in response, and with a huff, Rangiku planted herself before him, "don't make me call upon Dr. Shihoin and Urahara."
His hardened stare met her determined gleam, "You wouldn't."
"I would," she affirmed calmly, "and we both know how persistent they can be," his face displayed the deepest scowl, "all you have to do is tell me what's wrong."
"It's none of your business."
Rangiku sighed, "Alright.." casually, she took out her phone and flipped it open, "I suppose I have no other choice-
"Fine!" he snapped, preventing her thumb from hitting the 'send' button, and she raised a thin golden brow at him, "Just.. don't call them." with a congruent quirk of her lips, she snapped the device shut and slid back into her apron,
"The girl that I'm positive I'm doomed to love for the rest of my life just got engaged to someone else." he explained with an undertone of dejection, "Happy?"
"Oh, Taicho.." she evoked her most sympathetic facade, "I'm sorry," he shrugged, feigning indifference, and within the minute, she placed her hands on her hips with a stern inquiry, "What the hell are you doing here then?"
He gave her a quizzical look, "Excuse me?"
"Why are you here when the afterglow of being engaged is still in effect?!" that didn't exactly diminish his confusion, "You may still have a chance! But you have to go!" she began pushing him towards the exit,
"Matsumoto!" he growled and freed himself from her path, shooting her a glare, "What are you doing?"
"Kicking you out," she asserted firmly, "Now go, find this girl and get her back, I'll hold down the fort."
"... are you serious?" she nodded, her expression unwavering, and without a second thought, Hitsugaya bolted from the room, steadfast towards his new destination.
.
He wasn't prepared for this.
He had planned to go up to her apartment and force her to listen to what he had to say, whether she slammed the door in his face or not, she was going to hear him out. But now, he couldn't find it in himself to leave the car. He just remained seated behind the wheel, parked on the opposing curb as Karin and her fiance proceeded towards the entrance of her apartment complex, hand in hand.
It wasn't cowardice or insincerity that kept him captive in his vehicle, but rather, conscience, morality; she looked so happy. Even though it was well past sunset, the only light's being those of street lamps placed along the sidewalk, her smile shone like the sun, and his heart swelled with yearning, the need for that smile to be directed at him.
Then she met his gaze, clearly out of an absentminded area scan, and her face fell from a jovial gleam to a repellant scowl, or perhaps just a look of shock, and it had his heart ache increasing.
Her eyes followed his car as he sped off almost immediately, but there was no doubt in her mind it was him, as only one man could evoke such conflicted emotions, and she found herself, not angry, but curious.
She couldn't help wondering what he had planned to do.
Uncertainty; her feet were hauntingly cold. She was inattentive to the minister's articulation as she stared up at him, the man before her, her soon-to-be husband, and she didn't even bother to force a smile, allowing her lips to remain naturally neutral.
Were these the eyes she was going to wake up to every morning, not of brilliant teal but of dull greyish-blue? Was this the head of hair that would contrast her own when in company, not of unkempt alabaster but of trimmed sandy-blonde? And were these hands that she held in her own to be the ones that touched her, while in the back of her mind she'd long for another's caress?
Apparently so, and for some reason, that didn't sit well with her. Not at all.
"Ahem," the minister drew her attention, and with a single glance, it dawned. It was her turn. Time to finalize, say those two little words, those simple syllables, and yet, they get caught in her throat.
She cast her gaze about the room, darting from her expectant fiance, to her quizzical brother and sister-in-law, to her bemused father, to her suddenly concerned bestfriend, then lastly, at her fraternal twin, who of course, out of all her close-knits, was the one who instantly understood.
With a swelling in her heart, one of sudden determination and enthuse, she met her suitor's eyes once more. Casting an atoning look, she discarded her engagement ring, uttering apologetic words, and then, abruptly, she ran.
Clutching the silky fabric, she lifted up the obstacle that was her skirt, revealing the battered old sneakers she had changed into, despite her sister's wishes, and with utmost appreciation of her former self's decision, she emerged through the double-doored exit, making a fervent run for it in the direction of his loft.
She ignored the gawks and curious stares she received from the crowd of strangers of which she tore through, straining the muscles in her legs to work as fast as they possibly could, the many layers of her skirt flapping about, and she only attracted more attention as she came out on Main Street.
Her face was flushed, her lips curled jovially and parted with steady inhales and exhales, her gaze set on the building just ahead, only two intersections away. She strived further, adrenaline pumping.
She nearly skidded on the marble flooring of the lobby, receiving looks from various tenants and staff, of which she continued to disregard.
Chest heaving, she stood impatiently in the elevator, watching the numbered display slowly light up. Damn him and his top floor residence.
Arriving on the tenth floor, she surpassed an elderly couple and bolted down the corridor, fixated on the golden '23' at the end, and soon enough, with a sudden sense of composure, she turned the knob, letting the door drift open.
Abruptly, he halted, broad eyed.
The last person he expected to find loitering in his doorway, incessant ragged breaths escaping her as she leaned on the frame with one hand, her features tinged a deep pink and her hair cropped in such a messy way he couldn't comprehend where it ended and where it began: one Karin Kurosaki.
"Hey." she accosted breathlessly.
"Karin.." snapping from his trance, he furrowed his brow, "what are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" the most genuine of smiles tugged at her lips, aimed solely at him, and she crossed the threshold, casual, "I've always preferred doctors.." with tired, wobbling legs, she approached him, shrugging, "I think I got it from my mother."
"Family curse?"
"Something like that.."
His features gleamed cutely, "Guess I chose the right profession." a soft giggle escaped her, music to his ears, and he brought a hand up to brush back her frazzled tresses, "You know, I should be angry with you," she raised a faintly shocked eyebrow, "stealing my thunder like this and all.."
With sudden regard of his ready-to-go ensemble, she cast him a grin, "Were you planning to crash my wedding?"
"Maybe."
"Well," she smoothed her hands up his chest and linked them around his neck, coy gleam intact, "you should really learn to be more punctual.."
"It is a flaw of mine.." he admitted as he coiled his arms around her, supplementing his doting smile, "But I'm working on it." He was about to meet her lips when an all too familiar ring sounded, and instead of reflexively answering it, he just gave her a repentant look, of which she hardly heeded with her response,
"Go on," her smile never wavered, "save some lives."
A kiss was all she got in response; soft, intense, and then he drew back, making to depart. "Hey," she pivoted to face him, and he shot her one last grin, "don't go anywhere."
"Don't worry," she replied to the now closed door, "I won't."
The End
A/N: So the ending was partially inspired by Spiderman 2, if anyone caught the similarities, and if anyone's wondering who the fiancé is, he's nobody (I almost made it Aizen, but then.. just no.) so he's just a nobody, nameless OC..
Hope you enjoyed!