TRIED TO WALK
AN: This fic takes place after the Quincy's invasion had things turned out differently.
Chapter 1: Life after you
An amber eye cracked open, immediately a tan arm rose up to create a shield against the cruel light of the sun coming through the bare window. He slowly moved into a sitting position on the bed, rubbing his eyes.
Another day had begun.
He squinted at the window and at the black curtains pushed aside, a sight that never used to be until just recently. Before, the black drapes would hardly be moved from their position in front of the window, serving to keep the punishing rays from penetrating his room, since he was not a morning person, but that was before and no longer the person he was now.
Now, the light streaming through the window every morning served for many purposes. It was his waking alarm, it was the light that woke him from the horrible nightmares that came each time he laid on his bed and closed his eyes, and it was just one more of the countless tributes he found himself acting out.
He climbed out of bed and opened the window. He took it all in, the shining sun upon his face, the fresh morning air hitting his bare chest and the birds filling his ears with their peaceful songs.
It was a beautiful morning. It was perfect. Yet, it wasn't. No morning would ever be beautiful or perfect to him. There was something missing in each waking day, an emptiness that could never be filled.
As he stood there, deep down he knew that a pair of other eyes would have enjoyed the sight.
The eyes of someone who would never again get the chance to greet a new day.
He quickly pushed away from the window and headed into the adjoining bathroom. He turned the water of the shower on full blast, stepped in and let the cold water work it's way into his thick hair. Sweat from the night was washed away, he only wished it were that simple to rid oneself of everything else.
After finishing up, he dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked back into his room and stared into the mirror. He seemed different to himself now, almost like a stranger. The man who stared back at him now did so with dull, fireless eyes framed by dark circles. He seemed older now, too, seeming to have grown in only a matter of a few weeks.
He grabbed a brush and began to comb out the knots in his long red hair. Afterwards he pulled his hair back into his usual style and put on his black bandanna. He dressed into a fresh shihakusho and hesitated as the last item to complete his look still hung in the closet. This was always the hard part, the part he dreaded to face every day.
Slowly he went back to the closet and pulled out the white haori. He rubbed the material between his fingers, it still felt new; it had yet to possess the worn out feel clothing got with usage and age. Holding the white haori away from his body he wondered how such a light piece of cloth could feel like a bag of rocks in his hands.
He sat on the bed and softly, his fingertips hardly ever touching the fabric, he traced the bold black lines, following the familiar number. His eyes stung and his hands shook. Printed in his mind, so clearly, still so vividly, was the man who had once worn the insignia on a strong, proud back.
Now, the weight of it hung on his shoulders.
He wasn't ready for this, and only Kami knew how much he didn't want it. Not like this.
He pressed his face into the haori and wept.
People say that wounds heal with time, but his wounds, incurable, would bleed forever.
(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)
"G-good morning, Captain Abarai!" A shinigami, stuttered.
The captain nodded in the direction of the shinigami and continued to make his way to the division. He heard footsteps behind him, but paid it no mind.
"Um…I-I think you're… a-amazing…I…."
Renji stopped in his tracks and turned to face the one who had spoken. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the young face of a shinigami no more than a child. Obviously, the boy was a recruit, just fresh out of the academy. The boy kept his eyes lowered and Renji could see that he was shaking. He walked closer, closing the gap between them.
The young boy lifted his pretty dark green eyes and the redhead placed a hand on the small shoulders.
"What's your name?"
"H-haru, sir."
"Haru… thank you."
He heard a small gasp escaped from Haru's lips and a cute blush covered his young face. Renji ruffled the blond hair and smiled.
"Take care, kid."
The green eyes widened sweetly and the redhead couldn't help but think there was something familiar in them. When it hit him he let go of the boy, nodded and walked away quickly, yet he felt like he couldn't get away fast enough.
Those eyes, how many times had he seen eyes such as those? They had been in the eyes of his friends… and even in his own. Eyes lit with a special kind of joy and so much hope. That awed gaze that could only be translated into idolism.
The boy saw him as some kind of hero.
He felt his composure breaking away from him, slipping from his grasp.
He had done nothing to be looked upon with eyes such as those. He didn't deserve that kind of admiration. He didn't deserve any kind of worship. He'd done nothing.
He had not saved anyone when it was paramount, he had not possessed the power to stop his captain when it had mattered most, nor was he able to hold his own in the fight to protect those he cared for, for those he considered friends. He'd let blades cause damage, he'd allowed for internal organs to become heavily destroyed, and time and time again he'd been utterly helpless when one of his friends lives were at risk.
In the heart breaking end, he'd let his captain die.
He clenched the haori tightly by his side, his nails biting into his skin.
He didn't deserve the title.
I let him die.
Renji shuddered, an intense cold running all throughout his body. The warm sun unable to reach him now. His legs felt so weak they felt ready to fail on him. He wanted nothing more than to break into pieces for everyone to see. To let the whole world know he wasn't strong, that he was dying deep inside. That every breath killed him.
But he couldn't…
Not here. Never here.
He had a squad to hold together, soldiers to comfort and train. They looked to him for strength, they needed him to be strong. He had to lead by example. He couldn't fall and let the squad crumble alongside him; without a proper foundation a structure will fall.
It's what his captain would've wanted.
Without realizing it he had made it to the sixth division. He went straight to the office and leaned against the door as he entered. Closing his eyes he took a moment to breathe, trying to find some balance, afterwards he pushed off the door and headed to his desk. He jumped, instinct had his hand coming to the zanpakutou that rested near his hip when he felt arms wrap around his waist.
"Renji."
His hand moved away from the sword and came to rest on a small pale hand.
"Rukia…"
She pressed her face firmly into his back, her hands tightly holding his clothes. She made no sound, yet knowing her the way he did, he knew she was crying. This too, was a reason why he couldn't give into the desire of falling completely apart.
She needed him.
"Hey," he whispered softly. "Don't cry… he wouldn't want that, you know."
"I love him."
Tears rose in his eyes and he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. He tightened his hold on her hand, and blinked back the wetness in his eyes.
"I know."
She said nothing for a time, then he heard in such a faint whisper it was barely audible, "Do you think he knew?"
"I'm sure he did. Why do you ask?"
"I never told him. I never said those words to him. I felt it in my heart, but I-I was afraid to speak them to him. It never occurred to me that he would… like this… so suddenly-"
She broke off and he turned enfolding her in his arms, holding her close as she cried. He ran fingers through her short raven hair and tried to think of words that could somehow comfort this inconsolable girl.
"Rukia… my Rukia."
She lifted her head, large violet eyes, lovely yet filled with so much pain, connected with his own amber ones. He brushed the falling tears with his thumbs, then ran them down the curve of her cheek and from there to trace the pink lips that were slightly parted. His body instantly recognizing every curve, every line, every dent on her face.
There were only two faces that he knew inch by inch, detail for detail. The face that stood inches away from his own at that moment and the other… a face he'd never have the chance to look upon again.
Heartbrokenly, he bent forward and brushed his lips against hers, their lips hardly ever touching, but enough to make her eyelids flutter closed. He raised his lips and placed a kiss over each eyelid, his lips finding their way to her hairline next, where they stilled.
"I'm sorry I-," Rukia began.
"Stop," he cut in a bit forcefully, he winced at his own tone and softened it. "Don't you go apologizing for your tears. You're with me, you don't need to hold back and you don't need to pretend."
She buried her face in his chest and sighed. "You smell…good. I never want to lose this scent, I…I never want to lose you, Renji. You and Ichgio are all I have left."
"How is he?"
"He's hurting. All this…it's broken him into pieces." She pulled back. "He's asked about you. He wonders if you blame him…"
"It was never his job to protect any of us." Renji shook his head.
She raised her hand to his chest. "You need to talk to him."
"I know, it's just been…I've just been busy."
"Renji, he wants to see you. I think…he needs to see you."
"Sounds like you've been hanging around him a lot."
She dropped her hand and lowered her eyes." Um…"
He lifted his face to the ceiling and let out a half-hearted chuckle. "He's probably fuming… Ichigo better watch out for any stray petals." He stared down at their close proximity. "Oh man, I should probably do the same."
"Hey, don't think I'll protect you or anything."
"Oh gee, thanks Rukia, I always knew I could count on you."
Rukia laughed, a real laugh. It was foreign to his ears and it must have been to hers as well as she abruptly stopped and touched her lips.
His smile faded. "I'd do anything to have him kick my ass again."
To feel his strength, to see that grand power surround him. To witness once again my captain as he was on that very first day I ever laid my eyes on him.
Beautiful and elegant. Powerful and proud, untouchable and…
Invincible.
He sighed and broke away from the smaller shinigami. He sat down on the chair and rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a horrible headache coming on to him. His eyes followed Rukia as she made her way to a bookshelf in the corner, watched as a delicate hand traced the stems of the books.
"It's still so strange." Her voice regained some of it's former strength. "I keep expecting him to come back, you know, like he'll be home when I get there. Captain Unohana says that's normal and I know it is because when Kai-…" She leaned against the shelf. "That feeling, it'll eventually fade a little, life will become a bit more bearable as the days go by. Grieving with others, speaking your feelings aloud… it all helps, she said."
"Everyone says that." he muttered under his breath.
Of course, in the quiet room he was heard. "Captain Unohana also says that it's important for you to see her. She hasn't told you directly because she's respecting your privacy, she's waiting for you to come to her."
"That won't happen. I don't need that, I'm dealing with it in my own way. I'll get to the same end point on my own." He leaned back on his chair. "I'm fine."
"She said that one cannot bottle everything up and that doing everything on our own is not the answer."
"I really am fine."
"She's worried."
"I'm going to be okay, there's nothing to be worried about."
Rukia pushed off the shelf and glared at him. "She told me, that you shed not a single tear at the funeral. She saw you Renji. It's expected of the nobles and other captains, but you're nothing like them, bottling everything up was never you, Renji. How can you blame her for worrying?"
"And I was able to hold in my anger and hatred for a man for years," he said, heatedly. "She doesn't know a damn thing about me. I didn't cry at the funeral out of respect for him because he never liked that shit! There's nothing wrong with me! I already-"
"Fuck it, Renji!" She yelled. "Shut up and listen!"
He stared at her with wide eyes, his anger rising, but he said nothing.
"Who cares about her, right? Who the hell cares about anybody else, so what, they're not important right now." She sat down in the seat across the desk from him. "Right now, it's just you and me, or are you going to sit there and lie to my face? Are you going to tell me that I don't know anything about you?"
"Rukia," he said through his teeth.
"Tell me I have nothing to worry about." She narrowed her eyes. "Let me warn you that if you do, I'll punch you so hard you'll be forced to go to the fourth division and see her."
"Fine."
"You haven't cried in public, don't say anything, I don't expect you to, actually I understand why you wouldn't do that. I know that you have to be there for your squad, I respect that. But you haven't let it out in front of the people you call friends." She sighed. "You haven't let it out with me. You haven't said anything about how you're feeling. I guess I understand that, too. You don't want to throw your emotions on me, you probably think my feelings are more important than your own. You will put my pain above your own, don't try to deny it because I know that's the way you think. It's who you are and I love you for that."
She stared into his eyes, waiting for him to speak, but he couldn't and so looked away. She continued. "You're in so much pain, you don't think I see that? Why are you running away from the people who want to help you? Why are you shutting us out?" Violet eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "Why are you shutting me out, Renji?"
"It's not that I want to push you away, it's not…I'm not doing it intentionally. Not really." He placed a hand on the table, Rukia's followed shortly after, laying hers over his. "I can't let him go, Rukia, I don't want to. I…"
I love him.
I can't stop loving him.
Even though he's gone, I'm still in love with him.
"I'm sorry…I'm not ready Rukia, I'm just not ready."
He watched with dry eyes, as a tear trickled down her cheek. She nodded slowly, stood up and walked away.