Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.
Bleach: The Shoujo Side - Side Stories
Memories - A Quiet Promise
written by Kurosu
When Rukia was twelve, she became ill that early spring year. It was minor cold, so nothing life threatening, but the poor girl was confined to her bed. Most of the time she was too exhausted to even bother getting out of the comforting warmth of her blankets. Lately, the cool spring weather wasn't any different from the last few days of winter, so she bundled into a tiny ball beneath the layers of warmth.
Her grandfather and brother visited her a few times, but she told them she would be fine and didn't want them to catch her cold. She loved them dearly, but it did get lonely in her room. The only company she would have right now was her Chappy rabbit plushie - at least it wouldn't get sick. She would talk to Chappy till she fell asleep, murmuring softly the names of those she missed.
It was only the late afternoon when the breeze picked up, gently twirling the loose flower petals and leaves into the air. The sunlight had a lovely peach glow, filtering through the curtains and showering the tiny bit of the day's warmth into the girl's room.
Rukia was sleeping peacefully in the soft light of the day, clutching her rabbit plushie securely within her arms. The dark curls of her hair framed her porcelain face, giving her an ethereal shimmer about her. Her breaths were soft and steady, the only sounds drifting in the room.
The shoji screen door to the room quietly slid open.
The visitor paused in the doorway for a moment, as if contemplating to enter, and then proceeded inside and closed the door quickly to keep the room as close to its original state as possible, that she was used to.
He walked over to her bedside, treading softly but firmly. He stood there, with a straight posture of confidence; both hands in his pockets of his black slacks. His matching gakuran top was left partially unbuttoned from his collar to halfway, allowing a white crew neck tee shirt to show, which gave him a slight appearance of a mischievous boy. Even his short, white hair added to his wild, untamed look, but it made him that more attractive, though he was still a boy slowly entering his pubescent period.
He looked down at the sleeping angel, memorizing every detail of her delicate features - which he had been doing since they were younger. One day, those parts of her would be more defined, more beautiful, and then, he wouldn't be able to paint his subconscious with anything else.
His lips pursed into a thin line in hesitation, but he had already decided upon his action. Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he, for once with a bit of trepidation, moved it towards the small form in bed. He could feel the tense muscles in his hand as he reached out to her pale cheek, and he brushed his index finger against her soft skin, slightly pushing some strands of her raven hair aside.
Even though she was sick, her skin had always been light, seemingly unmarred by the sun's effect, and a great contrast to his own skin tone: an earthly tan color.
She stirred in her slumber, scrunching her nose adorably at the disturbance. He didn't think a slight touch had such an effect on her and partially regretted his action. He wanted to watch her sleep some more, but the other part of him wanted her to open her mesmerizing eyes and see him.
Her eyes fluttered open as her hand moved from gripping the rabbit's ear to her cheek, touching the familiar hand upon her face. She clasped his hand within her own and turned her head towards him, while he now lost the confident posture and instead leaned tenderly towards her need for warmth.
"Hitsugaya-kun," she whispered, still doused with the leftover sleepiness, "your hand is cold."
Her voice held no irritation in the statement, only honesty.
"Ah," he replied in agreement. His touch always seemed to be cold to her - and everyone else - but she never complained about how uncomfortable it was nor pulled away from him. It was just the opposite: she welcomed his cool touch and enjoyed the feeling he brought to her.
When he retrieved his hand from her, he dropped it to his side and watched her rub her eyes, hoping the drowsiness would go away. She gave a little yawn and then finally looked at him, and he just returned the stare in silence. He didn't do well with words when it didn't involve his studies, but he enjoyed the quietness more than anything, especially when it was just the two of them, with unspoken words.
She then turned her gaze away, to the wall behind him, and pulled the covers up to her chin, biting her bottom lip with worry. "Ne, Hitsugaya-kun," she started.
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry I didn't come. To your graduation."
"You're sick."
"But it was important!"
"But you're sick."
She did her best to glare at him in her weak state, and it annoyed her when he was right. As far as she could remember, he had always been right about everything - the smarty pants. That was why he was called the prodigy; he had just graduated from high school at the early age of thirteen. Soon, he would start his higher education at the university, speeding into the adult world without worries. He was just so different from all the other kids, including her, so she wondered, at this point in her life, if he would still be there, tomorrow.
She seemed to be feeling miserable now, with her brooding silence, so he sat down at the edge of her bed and placed a hand on her forehead. She didn't bother to look at him when he did that, but her face suddenly got twice as warm. He grinned at the spike in temperature and took his hand from her forehead, only to bring it down to her nose and give it a pinch.
"Hurry up and get better, Chibiko," he teased, using her nickname - 'little child/girl' - that only he had the right to do. She sent him another of her deadly glare, but he ignored it, being used to it for so long and he was the mature one. "I'll be leaving for Tokyo U. in two weeks."
"I know," she pouted.
A knock on the door interrupted the two of them, followed by a voice that informed him that he had to leave soon. He acknowledge that and said he would come out in a few minutes. When he turned back to the sick girl in bed, she had buried herself deeper into her warm bedding.
"Chibiko," he called out, wanting to get her attention again, "give me your hand."
"Why?" she asked, her voice muffled from the blankets.
"Just do it."
With a huff, she stuck out her left hand, opening her palm up to him. He held her hand within his left while his free one snapped the second button of his gakuran uniform and placed it in her opened hand. She stared wide-eyed at the item in her hand, completely oblivious to the meaning of his action, and he closed her fingers over it, grinning smugly. She wanted to ask him what she should do with the button, but he had already stood up to leave.
"I'll see you next week, Chibiko."
He was turning around halfway when he waved her off, and within seconds, he disappeared behind the shoji door as it closed quietly after him.
She opened her hand and stared at the small object, examining it as if it had some mysterious power that... would cure her cold? She then held the silver button in the sunlight, between her thumb and index finger, and watched the light reflect off the shimmering surface. She didn't understand the significant meaning of it, but one day, she would.
It wasn't about a silly love confession teenagers believed in these days.
To him, it was about a single promise.
A promise of their connection - no matter the distance, no matter the obstacle, there bond couldn't be erased.
Note: Instead of working on episode 3 of the main story, I felt like writing a HitsuRuki (since that possible pairing won't be mention till later, a while later).
It's sort of hard to imagine them when they were younger... even though a young Hitsugaya was a wild one in Bleach, but I like the mature side of him when it comes to taking care of loved ones. I also like the fact that he's one not to express his emotions in words but in the little things he does.
Anyway, I enjoyed writing this. I was in that wistful mood. ~kuro