Here we are! Just as promised, a fanfic for you lovely readers in honor of Rukia's birthday. Enjoy!

Perfect

So, Rukia, what do you want for your birthday?

That one question had been Renji's main source of frustration for the past few weeks. He was a simple man—by no means did he claim to be good at reading minds or picking up signs, nor did he try...which was why he asked Rukia, straight-up, what she wanted him to get her. Obviously, he couldn't afford anything close to what the Kuchiki family (most specifically her brother) could give her, but it was the thought that counted.

...And when she replied with a shrug and a simple "nothing," he was led to gritting his teeth and popping up an eyebrow, irritated at her unwillingness to accept anything. "You're making too big a deal out of this," she'd told him casually. "I've told everyone that I don't want any gifts—even nii-sama. So chill."

"I'm getting you something, Rukia—whether you like it or not. And you will like it. So just tell me what you want." She'd sighed when he'd said that, shaking her head at his attempted sense of authority.

"I already gave you an answer—if you're so determined, then I guess you can try...but I won't be helping you out any." It was after that that she'd retreated into her office to resume filling out paperwork aside her captain, leaving her redheaded friend to steam in his anger and let out an annoyed growl. She could be so damn infuriating sometimes, that woman—from time to time, the thought flitted through his mind that his affection for her might be a show of masochism. But that wasn't the point. The point was that she was, as usual, being difficult and stubborn—a pain in the ass, if he put it bluntly.

"She's a woman," Ikkaku'd told him at the bar later on. "When she says no, she means yes—that's the way it is with all of them. They make no sense, but for some reason, us reasonable men are practically slaves to their charms." A vein had popped in Renji's head at that statement, his irritation in no way hidden when he replied,

"Stop tryin' to apply yer fucked up sense of psychology to the situation, Ikkaku. And besides, Rukia's nothin' like other women—you know that." Renji didn't really know why he was trying to inhibit the bald man's behavior—Ikkaku was obviously drunk, meaning that there was no real credence to anything he said.

"You should buy her some a those bunny things—they're called chappies or somethin', aren't they?" It was another idea Ikkakku had thrown out there, one that had made Renji sigh in frustration.

"She has millions of those," exaggerated the redhead. "And besides, her captain once gave her one that towers over Soul Society—how am I s'posed to compete with that?"

"Okay, I've got this," Ikkaku'd said in a determined fashion, slamming his emptied shot of sake onto the bar table. "Jewelry is good—women love sparkly stuff. Or makeup—that's even better, give her something she can use to make herself pretty!" He'd given a wide grin at his suggestion, expecting a positive response.

...All he'd gotten from Renji was an incredulous look and one-strike warning about being punched in the face. "You're so shit-faced I don't even think you can walk," he'd said to squad eleven's third seat, who was still flashing a goofy smile.

"...Is that a no, then?"

"...Yes, it's a no." Renji'd been two seconds away from just leaving his friend at the bar then—that was, until Ikkaku spoke up once more.

"What about yer feelings?" he'd said. These words had caught Renji's interest, and he'd cocked an eyebrow in confusion, leaning in closer to his comrade.

"Watcha mean?"

"I mean," he'd begun, "That since it's so painfully obvious that you're completely head over heals for her"-this comment had furthured Renji's annoyed state even more-"you should just give her your feelings. Get it out there in the open—have it on record." Renji'd scoffed at Ikkaku, pushing his arm only somewhat roughly before getting up and departing from the dive, making his way home in the cool night air of January. There were so many complications with doing what Ikkaku'd suggested—customs, formalities, Rukia's brother...the chance that she might flat-out reject him...not to mention that, knowing him and his absolutely fantastic way with words, Renji would probably fuck it all up within two seconds.

...But then, as he was working in he and captain Kuchiki's office the next morning, Ikkaku's idea flitted over his mind's eye again, and he took a moment to really think about it. The bald man had stated his concept in a rather...unorthodox way, but he still had a point—and a very valid one, at that. Rukia was the only person Renji'd ever loved in that way—she was the light of his life, his reason for everything he'd done over the past fifty years or so. He began playing the scenario out in his head—him stumbling over an awkward yet heartfelt confession, and then...rejection. A painful sting ripping through his heart as she explained to him that he was only like her brother, that she loved Ichigo...and for a minute, Renji was depressed as hell.

...But then, just for fun, he decided to imagine the opposite scenario—the best-case one. His confession, still blocky and hectic (since, let's face it, he wasn't going to get that part right in any case), and then...a smile blossoming on her face, her arms wrapping around him, and an honest reciprocation of his sentiments. Just the thought of her lips forming the words as her voice spoke them...Renji's mood took a U-turn, and that was it. He had to do this.

...And so began his preparation. Picturing her in front of him as he scribbled down words of affection on a scrap slip of paper, or said them aloud to himself when he was all alone...just as expected, he fumbled and tripped over his words, even when she was absent. However, he persisted, as was his nature, and over the days and weeks he spent practicing his confession, his words became refined and coherent. He was starting to get the hang of the whole 'expressing one's feelings in words' thing, counting down the days until he would have to do it for real...

Tense and stiff, Renji raised his hand to knock on the door of Rukia and Ukitake's shared office, his nerves more strung than they were when he was sparring in the eleventh division. Not surprisingly, Rukia opened up, obviously surprised by his presence. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"Ukitake-taicho, may I please borrow Rukia for a minute? I want to give her her birthday present." Rukia, as expected, sent a death glare his way, obviously irritated. He tried to hide the anxiousness in his voice, hoping it didn't show.

"Of course," answered the white-haired captain kindly, his usual smile gracing his face.

"A-Are you sure you don't need me here to help?" asked Rukia, trying to divert the situation. Renji couldn't help but notice that she masked her emotions much better than he did—she was pissed, that much he knew; however, her statement to her captain had been completely calm and collected.

"No, no, Kuchiki," assured the older man. "You work too much as it is, and it's your birthday; take a few minutes to receive something nice—in fact, why don't you take the whole day off!" He was entirely serious—his smile brightened, but Rukia's face only held shock.

"No—no, captain, that won't be necessary," she said simply, quickly stepping outside the doorway and closing the shoji before her overly-generous captain could offer more things. Since that matter was over, she turned her attention onto Renji.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him harshly, reanimating her glare. "I told you I didn't want anything!" Renji let out the breath he was holding, trying to calm his frantic nerves.

"It's 'cause I care about ya," he said, using his best efforts to contain his anxiety. "Now would ya come with me so I can give you yer present?" Rukia's glare deepened, and she huffed.

"Just give it to me now; I want to get back to work as soon as possible." She was obviously deathly serious; however, Renji stood his ground, determined to complete his mission.

"This isn't something yer gonna wanna get out in public." There it was—he'd made his first fuck-up. Rukia was somewhat taken aback by this, confusion and suspicion mixing into her angered expression; however, after that passed, she let out an aggravated sigh, giving him another look.

"Fine; let's get this over with." Renji gave an internal beam of success, motioning her to follow him.

After a few minutes of walking, they ended up outside an old building within the seireitei, one that was formally used as barracks, and that hardly saw any attention anymore.

"Alright, what did you want to give me?" asked Rukia impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. Renji turned to face her, letting out a long, deep sigh. This sparked Rukia's interest, as did his behavior since he had come to her office to present her with her gift—what could he possibly be so nervous about?

"Rukia Kuchiki," he finally spoke, "I give you..."-and he reached for one of her arms, grasping her hand in his and placing it over the left side of his chest-"...my heart." Rukia's eyes instantly widened to platters, her heart immediately ceasing its rhythm as her brain hit a brick wall, trying to process his words.

"...What?"

"You've had it for a long time," he told her, tightening his grip around her digits, "but I just thought...that I should formally give it to you, and let you know that it's all yours. Forever. Whether or not you want to give me yours in return...is all up to you...but, then again, I guess...this is your birthday, isn't it? Not a gift exchange." He smiled despite himself, his wild tangle of emotions throwing him unbelievably off balance and making him nauseous. She kept staring at him, as if she were frozen, no words coming from her lips—Renji took that as answer enough. Though he retained his smile, it was tortuous to do so as he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it briefly before gently lowering it back down to her side. He walked past her, unable to resist lightly brushing against her side as he did so.

"Sorry, Rukia..." She didn't like his present—it was all over. The worst-case scenario had occurred, and the pain he was experiencing was eons greater that what he had imagined it to be.

...But then, he felt small arms snake around his waist from behind, a small body pressing up against him, hugging him.

"Idiot..." muttered the raven-haired beauty. "You didn't know...that you've had my heart all along?" It was about the cheesiest thing he'd ever heard her say, but, then again...his confession had had its share of sappy sentiment. He perked up, disbelief and happiness and a million different things flowing through him as he whipped around to embrace her face to face, burying his face in her neck. He felt her smile into his chest, and then she cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss him.

It was perfect. Simply...

Perfect.

END

I hope you guys liked it :) Tite Kubo owns Bleach, and all comments are appreciated and loved!