A.N. I am proud to say that my first IchiRuki piece has been completed! :) Thanks a million to my beta for this story, Chizune, and a few people over on deviantART who helped me find the inspiration to write a fic like this.
This fic will be two chapters, but the last chapter is significantly shorter than the other.
And as always, if you have anything to say, positive or negative, post a review! I read them all and I love hearing feedback.
And without further ado, I give you Windows to the Soul. I hope that this fic is to your satisfaction, and thank you kindly for reading! =)
Ichigo had always hated rain. Even before clouds had appeared in his inner world, a small shower could send him spiraling into a bad mood. So when the third Saturday in April began with a rolling fog, the strawberry opted to stay indoors. The clock read 10:45—after staying out late with friends, he'd unconsciously slept late—so he stood with a stretch and a sigh before dressing in jeans and a t-shirt, pulling a hoodie over his head. Walking to the closet, he stifled a yawn and rapped three times on the door with the back of his hand.
"Oi, Rukia," he said loudly, "get up already." He didn't hear anything, but the closet was still closed, so Rukia was probably still recovering from the night before. Ichigo sighed, decided he'd give her thirty seconds to get her act together and come out of the closet. He wasn't about to burst in on a girl when for all he knew she'd gotten warm during the night and unbuttoned her (well, Yuzu's) pajama top... Just imagining it made his ears feel hot and he firmly directed his thoughts elsewhere.
...28...29...30.
"Rukia. Get up!" he yelled, opening the doors. Her makeshift bed was neatly made, the pile of Chappy plushies practically everyone had gotten for her birthday, Ichigo included—how the hell was he supposed to know what else to get her?—arranged in a bouquet of identical cheery faces against the wall. No midget here. So where the hell is she?
"Good morning, Ichi-nii!" Yuzu said cheerily, doing dishes. "We saved some breakfast for you. Are you hungry?" He nodded, placing the lukewarm plate in the microwave. "Anyone seen Rukia?" he asked. Karin was at the table, lacing up her new cleats for a game that day. Before either of his sisters could answer, Kurosaki Isshin appeared, registered the orange-headed son in the kitchen, and began his morning lesson.
"Good morning, Ichigo!" he said as he delivered his usual kick to the jaw—which his son easily blocked. "You and Rukia-chan sure slept late—Masaki, could it be—?"
"Moron," Ichigo said simply, wiping the conniving look off Isshin's face and looking to his sisters. "So, she's not here?"
"Nope," affirmed Karin, hopping up and jogging to the door, picking up the pace as she slammed it shut—probably out of excitement. She was really going to play in this rain?
"What? Rukia-chan's missing?" Isshin exclaimed, running to Masaki's poster. "Oh Masaki, could it be that our son didn't inherit my talent for lovemaking? Rukia-chan must have run off out of disgust. Thepoor girl! Where did I fail, my beautiful wife?"
Twitching, Ichigo grabbed an umbrella from a hook by the door and dumped all the food except a piece of toast in the trash, ignoring his stomach's complaints as he put Yuzu's hard work to waste. I guess I'll have to deal with the rain after all, he thought sullenly, and walked out the door.
It wasn't a harsh storm. There was hardly any thunder or lightning, just big fat drops of water soaking everything to the skin. Regardless, Ichigo found it depressing. The way everything darkened and drooped under the pressure; how only cars were moving; the chill...
Ichigo heard giggles coming from the next street over. Loud, girlish shrieks, more shrill than the ring of a small bell. It didn't sound like Rukia at all. To be safe, Ichigo peeked around the corner. Nope, not the midget, just a couple of toddlers playing in puddles.
With no specific destination in mind, the strawberry wandered from one place to another. Urahara's shop. The ice cream parlor. The park. Orihime's place. Every store in town that sold anything related to rabbits. Before he knew it, his watch glowed 1:00 PM and he still hadn't found Rukia, after searching for two whole hours. Besides, one piece of toast wasn't much of a breakfast. Ichigo decided to check the school—why Rukia would be there, he didn't know—and grab a bite to eat on his way to Rukia's favorite bookstore.
As Karakura High School drew closer, Ichigo felt the wind pick up a little. He couldn't believe it was still raining. Was Rukia doing this on purpose, just to piss him off? The school was practically deserted, of course—except for, maybe, a few janitors and the occasional teacher grading papers. He didn't see anyone outside.
Then he heard a weak little melody, coming from above him. It dipped high and low, the sound honest and unrefined but almost whispered, hidden. It sounded like a baby's lullaby but more...eerie? Ichigo struggled to think of a word to describe it. Sorrowful, he supposed. Bittersweet. If the sound of her voice wasn't enough to let him know, the emotion dripping from it was. He inhaled sharply, raised his hands to cup the air around his mouth, almost shouted a "Yo! Rukia!" and stopped himself. Luckily he had his combat pass with him. Breaking free of his body, he dragged it to a shadowed corner and leaped up, balancing on spirit particles. He moved stealthily, not wanting to stop the melody...It was so pure, he felt like Rukia was spilling everything she'd never shared with him in this little song that didn't have any words. Ichigo had no clue why she had run off here, had no clue why she was singing such a melancholy song, only that she was.
He'd snuckup only a few feet away from her when her shoulders slumped and the high note she'd been holding faded into nothingness. She stood on the edge of the roof, nearly teetering, looking like a suicidal doll in the long white dress she wore, now soaked so thoroughly that Ichigo didn't dare look anywhere but the back of her head.
"You found me, huh." It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
She said nothing, simply stayed put. For a few minutes there was no sound but the patter of raindrops and then a rumble of thunder. Suddenly Ichigo realized how stupid it was to be on a roof in the middle of a thunderstorm. He leaned forward and pulled the midget onto his back, wondering why she went to all the trouble of getting her gigai on the roof. Rukia didn't say anything, only clung to his shoulders while he took them down.
Back in his own gigai, Ichigo opened the umbrella and tugged Rukia closer until they were both sheltered. The strawberry paused for a moment, noticing the condition of her dress—stuck tightly to her skin, obviously uncomfortable—and handed her the umbrella. He took off the plush red hoodie he wore and traded items. She didn't do anything with it, just stood, staring blankly while clearly not seeing anything.
Ichigo put the umbrella on the ground and stepped closer, near enough that he could see that not all the moisture on her face was from the rain. He pushed the hoodie over her head himself, stifling a grin at the sight: it was made to be a slim-fit for Ichigo, so it fit her rather well in that respect, but it hung almost to her knees. However, this didn't seem to be the right time for smiling and laughing. Silently he wiped the tears from underneath her eyes, feeling her shrink away from his touch. Ichigo had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from asking any of the questions that begged to be let loose. He leaned over and picked up the umbrella again, walking forward and hoping she would follow.
She didn't.
So, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along. Rukia moved with no trouble now, her arm hanging, limp. But he didn't let go, fearing she would fall or faint if he did. They walked home in total silence.