First of all, I NEED A BETA, my native language is spanish so if you want to help me, please send me a DM, I will be very grateful!
And here I go again, and I come with an extra long chapter.
It is still a bad taste in my mouth for me, the 686 chapter that finished the Bleach manga. A real disappointment for a story that since chapter one was based on the connection of Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki ... But hey, for that there are fanarts and fanfics! Haha
This fic will have enough Angst, lies, secrets, and betrayals. I had to get this idea out of my head, which is basically Ichigo's desire to be with the person who really wants and loves ... because in my eyes, it has always been the orange-haired man in love with the beautiful little shinigami, and has stood out in the manga for its many faces of sadness when she leaves and does not even return (in 17 months cof cof) or when she wants to stay in the soul society and not return with him, geez ...
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, do not forget to leave me comments that are indicators if we go well or not hahaha greetings!
Chapter 1: Deep in the heart
Rukia Kuchiki went to the kitchen of the Kurosaki in search of more glasses. They had met that night as they did occasionally, the Abarai-Kuchiki with the Kurosaki-Inoue to catch up with their lives.
Whenever the captain of the 13th division entered that house came to mind, the long stays she spent there almost 10 years ago. When was her house too.
She pushed those fleeting memories from her mind with a shake of the head. They had been so long ago ... her life was totally different now.
Advanced with two big strides, remembering where they still kept the glasses in that kitchen: the closet at the bottom very much above her head. The noise from the dining room distracted her for a moment ... could clearly hear the strong voice of her now husband Renji Abarai with Ichigo's father, Isshin Kurosaki, who were laughing and talking in high and somewhat drunken tones.
The brunette smiled and then sighed returning to what was coming. She tiptoed under the closet, reaching for the glasses that were all the way to the bottom.
"Need help?" listened behind suddenly, recognizing that deep voice. Looked over the shoulder and saw Ichigo Kurosaki standing on the threshold of the kitchen, as tall and imposing as ever, making her feel a deja vu: They had been through this once before, when the orange-haired was just the substitute shinigami and had given him all her powers by accident.
"No." replied the brunette as rude and self-sufficient as usual. "I'm fine."
And turned back to the closet, stretching as much as she could, standing on the tips of feet, stretching her arm and the length of the fingers to the extreme ...
When suddenly heard the pair of steps that separated them, and Ichigo's body behind her back. She froze with surprise, his chest pressing her against the furniture softly at first, but now it was more noticeable.
"What are you-?" she managed to murmur, looking up. The man was very red-cheeked without looking at her, opening the closet with his left hand over Rukia's head.
He stopped his movements by standing still in his place and Rukia felt Ichigo's burning and drunken breath that tickled the bare skin in her light spring dress of that warm night.
"I had wanted to do this all night." Ichigo whispered closer to the one with violet eyes, that still remained without reaction to what was happening, beyond the surprise and the wild beats that leapt in her chest. When the man ducked a little and felt the brush of his lips on her cold and snowy shoulder understood in a second what it meant. Rukia reacted quickly and embarrassed to that, hitting a strong elbow to the man's stomach and escaping from his grip.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rukia demanded furiously taking a step away, trying not to raise the voice and to be heard from the dining room, watching Ichigo take his belly and cough quietly. "Someone could have seen us!"
The orange-haired straightened up, at long of his length, and looked at her seriously and intensity.
"I do not care." answered simply, and as soon as the little shinigami heard that, passed Ichigo without even looking at him and left the kitchen, leaving the Kurosaki alone with no chance to say more.
He watched Rukia leave without doing anything, just clenching his fists in frustration, questioned himself for a moment, ruffling the hair, if he had gone too far with had just done. He had gone farther than ever ... but his thoughts were so clouded by all the alcohol had drunk that night, he was not sure.
'And besides...' thought covering his mouth with the hand, still burning from the recent contact with Rukia's skin ... through the thin fabric of her dress, he had felt the delicate forms ... wishing he had followed, descended...
"Ichigo-kun?" suddenly heard the voice of his wife who had entered the kitchen, taking him out of his thoughts. Seeing her was like a bucket of cold water in those moments, just with what was imagining, wishing...
Inoue looked at him from the entrance. The shinigami looked totally absent and she knew him so well that knew something hid his strange gaze. She went a step closer, but her husband simply turned to the shelf where only a few moments ago had Rukia trapped by his body and opened it by taking out a couple of glasses.
"I only came for glasses." responded by avoiding her gaze, passing by and leaving the kitchen.
Rukia passed by the dining room directly to the stairs, without the glasses that her husband had asked to bring, which was still too cheerful talking to Isshin to realize.
She climbed the steps quickly two by two, escaping what had just happened.
'What the hell?' She thought stopping in front of the door of small Kazui Kurosaki, which was closed. Leaned her forehead against the lukewarm wood, embarrassed about happened in the kitchen. What the hell was Ichigo thinking? What had all this been? The brunette tried to normalize her breathing by feeling the heart rush in the chest.
Some time ago the former substitute shinigami had started with these strange attitudes.
At first Rukia had not noticed, but sometimes Ichigo was staring at her for no reason. Sometimes in the middle of a group (like these same meetings) and when she was not even talking, felt the Kurosaki's hot gaze on her side, burning, piercing her... thinking that they were only her ideas, but those looks they became constant.
At first she turned to check that, finding Ichigo looking away, reaffirming their doubts. But with the passage of time, when she looked, he had his gaze fixed on her and faced directly.
"What?" she said annoyed, but he turned to the front and answered a brief. "Nothing."
And all those times, the girl wants to take the nearest table and stamp it on the orange head of the Shinigami. What the hell was wrong with him? What the damn did he want?
Until once facing him, the orange haired replied simply: "I-I like ... the color of your eyes."
That completely knocked her and very furious shouted: "Are you kidding me?!"
"No." Answered looking at her intently and without a whit of playing or joking, leaving the smaller one even more blank.
"W-what are you talking about, subnormal? Why do you tell me those things out of nowhere?"
"I'm sorry ... I always thought about it, but I never told you."
"What?" she said with the cheeks of a furious red. "Are you Kon?"
"What?" he replied annoyed. "Of course it's me, silly." And that confirmed that it was Ichigo: Only he insulted her in that way. "I've never been able to tell you." he continue with rosy cheeks too. "I just wanted to tell you from now on..."
And before they could continue, someone always interrupted them. Either Orihime or Renji suddenly appearing or the little Kazui and Ichika calling the attention of both.
And from that time, Rukia totally ignored him. She let him look at her without facing it, feeling so uncomfortable and confused in those moments, that did not dare to do or say anything. But Ichigo's gaze remained there.
She shook his head again shooing those memories and entered the room of the smallest of the Kurosaki.
The room smelled a lot like a small child, between soft and sweaty. She walked through the gloom until came to the small bed by the window. The rays of the moon filtered through the glass illuminating the tender scene that Rukia looked at with a smile.
The little Kazui Kurosaki was curled up in a tiny part of his own bed, sleeping in a fetal position being crushed by Ichika Abarai, who had stretched arms and legs, snoring softly and occupying much of the bed of the youngest Kurosaki.
"Wow, daughter ..." the brunette whispered softly laughing. She knelt down next to the children, and gently took her little girl by joining her arms straightening up to take the place corresponding to her size. Then took Kazui and stretched him so that was on his back, resting the head on the pillow. The boy made small pout gestures but did not wake up.
Rukia then caressed his soft, delicate hair. He was pure Orihime. Although he had the orange color of his father, the tone was lighter, closer to Inoue's. His expression was also different from Ichigo's: he was very innocent, shy and sweet. A very spoiled child, who always walked in the skirts of his beloved mother.
And on the other hand was Ichika, who although she had a strong resemblance to Renji in colors, her strong and proud personality was closer to that of Rukia. They shared the same look, too, with big, expressive eyes.
Rukia kissed her on the forehead and smiled at both children, checking that they were okay, and that they were still innocent of their parents' problems, fortunately.
Ichigo returned to his post, sitting with a bad taste in the mouth for what happened. He set the glasses down on the coffee table, ignoring the incessant chatter of his father and Renji.
He took one of the beer cans and emptied it into one of the glasses had brought. Appreciated the golden liquid bubbling cold and tasted it, lost count if it was the eighth or tenth can that was over that night. He was officially drunk, dizzy, but could not and would not stop.
"Why did you get married?" said suddenly loud enough to stop the conversation that was going on, spinning his glass watching the liquid mix inside. Isshin and Renji fell silent looking at him without understanding. "I mean you and Rukia." clarified, raising the eyes.
"Eh?" The redhead said confused, blush from the drink. "What are you talking about stupid?"
"Why did you and Rukia get married?" insisted the orange haired looking directly at the lieutenant of the gotei 13. "Because you and she, don't hit at all ..."
"Hey, hey, hey" Isshin interrupted raising both hands in time-out signal. "Ichigo, son ..."
"Tsk, I could tell you the same thing." Renji said a little pissed and quite drunk thinking that they were only joking each other. "Orihime-san is too good for you, goddamn idiot-"
"Enough." They were interrupted by the hard and strict voice of Rukia, who was descending from the stairs: "You have drunk too much, Renji."
Everyone looked at her surprised. Except for Ichigo, who was looking away even thinking about Renji's last words. 'Too good for you.'
Instead, the lieutenant of the sixth squadron focused the confused look on his wife and smiled at her standing up.
"Come on, Rukia." said, closing the gap and standing next to the orange haired man who raised an eyebrow at him. "We're just playing around." He continued smiling and putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Right, Ichigo?"
"Right." replied, feeling now Renji's palm on his back and the heavy look of the rest on him, including Inoue who came back from the kitchen. "I'll go smoke." announced cutting off the contact, standing up and leaving through the front door.
Ichigo Kurosaki was upset. Angry. Furious with himself. What the hell was going on him that night? He was behaving like a total idiot, and felt could not stop.
He went down the steps of the entrance and sat on them covering his tired face, feeling the head spin without control by the alcohol in the veins.
"Ichigo-kun?" heard behind him the cautious voice of his wife suddenly.
'Shit.' He thought letting go of his face and straightening, knowing what was coming.
"You're ok?" Orihime continued worried, sitting next to him.
"I'm fine." Ichigo answered in a tired voice, sighing, while fumbling in his pockets for cigarettes. He could not believe that they would have this conversation again. Always, being at least once a month, this talk was repeated. It happened especially when the orange haired behaved like a total idiot for no reason. Well deserved conversation by the way, but no less annoying. "I just wanted to smoke a little." continued to take a cigarette from the pack found in his pants.
Orihime looked at him worried and sad, not knowing how to face him. Her husband behaved in this different way for months. And it accentuated more when he drank. Especially in these periodic meetings with Renji-kun and Rukia-san.
Ichigo ignited the cigarette with awkwardness and took a good drag, remembering the day he started smoking: Since he very nervous and insecure proposed to his former schoolmate, Inoue Orihime.
He still did not understand why.
"What was that with Renji-kun inside? What did you say?" His wife insisted, staring as he let out the smoke slowly.
"Nothing, Orihime, we were just playing around as Renji said." He responded by trying to form a feigned smile.
She looked at him without saying anything. Then looked at her writhing hands of nerves. She tried to relax.
"Was it ..." Inoue said and her husband looked her. "...about ... Rukia-san?"
"Rukia?" repeated disappearing his smile and watching as the ash fell from the cigarette. 'It's always her. She is always between us. Is that right, Orihime? '
"I was just curious ..." he said instead. "But did you hear what Renji said?" His wife looked at him in surprise. "That you were too good for me..." was silent for a second. "I think Renji is right." concluded by looking at her with a sad smile before rising to her impacted gaze.
"No Ichi-!" Said the desperate woman holding him unexpectedly by one arm, avoiding the withdrawal. Ichigo without waiting for that and even with the drink clouding his mind, reacted in the worst way possible: cutting the grip with a sudden movement.
"Do not touch me!" He said threateningly. Inoue was left in one piece, looking at her husband's aggressive face, which did not recognize. He had never spoken her like that, less treated that way. Ichigo's face that night would not be forgotten in her whole life. Full of rejection, contempt...
The man needed to blink just once, to realize his mistake. It was a reaction from the bowels, from the deep of his heart. His heart that did not want to be touched by her anymore. She, who was not to blame for that.
Orihime's big, beautiful eyes looked at him with fear and then they were full of tears.
"I'm sorry!" added quickly when he was the same again, seeing with concern how Inoue held the hand had rejected. "I have hurt you?"
Orihime held her hand down, trying to suppress the crying as struggled to get out. He had beaten her but not to hurt, even so, the place was slightly reddened. And after he had looked at her so horribly, now showed concern, saddened her even more, because it was still her sweet, kind and worried Ichigo who had reacted in that way.
"Guys...?" They listened to their backs suddenly, breaking the tense moment. They turned in surprise, seeing Isshin Kurosaki closing the door behind. "Orihime-chan, are you okay?" he added with concern when saw her face about to cry.
But Ichigo's wife, unable to stand it anymore, passed by her father-in-law, escaping into the house before tears welled up in her aching eyes.
Isshin could see them though, bright and hurting tears running down the cheeks of his young daughter-in-law. Ichigo also saw them, but remained stuck in the place where was, impotent, without the guts to follow and comfort her after what had done...
"Ichigo." whispered Isshin, approaching his son, staring at him. It reminded him painfully of the days when the orange-haired had lost his Shinigami powers and Rukia-chan had disappeared from his life, not returning even once in 17 months. The face Ichigo showed at that time was exactly of the tonight: full of pain, helplessness, sadness and melancholy. The face of someone who has the hands tied behind the back, unable to do anything to improve his current situation. "You're ok?"
"No." replied the youngest of the Kurosaki, looking absently towards the street, the voice deep and hurt. "Do you want a cigarette, dad?"
To be continue.
