Hi, it's me again. This time I've written a story based on Anna Nalick's "Catalyst", another song I love listening to. I recommend it if you like slow sentimental acoustics. :D
Anyway, okay, so this story is not a personal best for me. But I think there are some stories that are just fighting to break free, and it's only when you write them down can you get around to writing other stuff.
I did enjoy writing it though and I hope you enjoy reading it. Have fun!
The raven-haired woman stood at the window, looking past the torrents of rain that crashed against the window and slid down the glass in crystal layers. Past the pouring rain, the night was too black for comfort.
When was he coming home? How many nights like this was she going to have to suffer through?
She turned to stare despondently at the supper waiting for her husband: two cups of ramen noodle. She had microwaved the noodles a first time, but she was sure they had grown cold by now. It was funny how much more miserable something as insignificant as that made her feel.
But she had grown used to it. Grown used to the helplessness that enveloped her heart every time she thought of how low he and her had sunk in their lives together. Before, about a year ago, she had sincerely believed that love really did conquer all. She had believed loving him would make everything work out. But now she was rapidly learning that sometimes love was simply not enough.
And she was learning the hard way.
So in her hand she held an envelope. It was a thick envelope, and she felt guilty just by the weight of it in her hand. He couldn't ever see it. Not now. It would break his heart.
A knock disrupted her thinking, and she turned to stare at the door, a sick hopeless feeling suddenly filling her. He was behind that door. Quickly she rushed into the bedroom to hide the envelope, then quickly rushed back. Who had imagined it was possible to want and not want to see someone so badly at the same time?
The woman sighed, walking slowly towards the knocking.
And then she opened the door.
She stared at him…standing in the hallway…soaking wet… He stared back at her, with the same wounded but inviting eyes she had fallen in love with so long ago.
She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, then whispered "You're late."
Ichigo looked through his dripping bangs at her, panting from the run through the rain. "I'm sorry Rukia. The storm brewed faster than I expected."
Rukia nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry." He repeated, panting some more. And Rukia just stared.
He looked so tired. His eyes could still hold her spellbound, but they were duller than they should have been…less vibrant. He was slouching against the frame of the door, bent with the stress of any interning paralegal. And his hair was messier than usual; auburn orange-streaked hair stuck out at angles it shouldn't have. He looked so, so tired.
So Rukia stepped up to him and slipped her arms around his body, trying to embrace him as fully as her small arms would allow her.
"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked down at her, concerned. This was an unusual for her.
"Mfoovoomfmmmm." She mumbled incoherently into his shirt.
"Speak up." Ichigo laughed, "What are you a munchkin?" Gently he held her face back so he could look at her properly. To his confusion, she was frowning up at him.
Before he could shield himself, Rukia pounded his chest with a fist!
"What?" he coughed, surprised.
"Do you have the faintest idea how worried I was??" she said, and punched him again!
"Ow!!"
"I don't know if you realize it, but people foresaw situations like this and invented a little something called the telephone!"
Actually, the storm had disrupted most forms of telecommunication, but Ichigo decided it wasn't worth mentioning.
"Weapons of mass destruction, that's what your fists are." Ichigo grumbled good-naturedly. "The UN ought to ban them." Then with one arm, he hoisted the petite woman up and slung her over his shoulder!
"Put me down!" she squealed as he kicked the door wider and sauntered into their apartment.
Ichigo tossed his briefcase into a sofa chair, and then dumped his wife into the couch.
"Are you crazy??" Rukia said from the beaten cushions, trying with all her might not to laugh. "Don't even try to—"
But his lips were already crushed against hers. And then pulling away and sinking next to her in the seat, he threw an arm around her and drew her into a hug.
"I've missed you." He whispered into her face.
She pushed at him playfully, all her worries suddenly forgotten. "You say that every night. You don't honestly think I still believe you, do you? That you miss me every day?"
"That's impossible to believe?"
"It is." She said simply.
"You don't miss me?"
"Hardly." Rukia said with a sarcastic sniff. "Being here alone for fifteen hours every day with nothing to do but watch the cars drive by is riveting."
Ichigo looked grim for a moment. Their tiny, albeit purposeful television set had broken about a week ago. Rukia had never particularly enjoyed the overly dramatic soap operas, but now she was simply dying without her day time television.
Rukia was suddenly sorry she had made the joke. "Forget it. Do you want to have supper?"
"What's for supper?" Ichigo asked. The question was out of habit, not curiosity. He knew what they were having. He knew what they had been having for the past month.
"Ramen." Rukia said stiffly, trying not to let Ichigo hear the self-loathing that tinged her tone. Not that it was even her fault.
"Chicken flavor?" Ichigo asked, with a cheeriness that—to Rukia's surprise—sounded remarkably genuine. This for some reason, only made her feel worse.
"Beef." She corrected dully.
"Even better."
Rukia looked at him for a long time. Then she said quietly, "No it's not Ichigo." And she got up to heat the cups again.
The steady hum of the microwave filled the sullen atmosphere that had possessed the room after Rukia's frank comment. Ichigo waited for his food, for the first time that night, looking very unhappy. His eyes remained fixed on their bare floor, and his lips were pursed in a thin discouraging line. Rukia had obviously been a little too frank.
The petite woman watched her husband from the kitchenette and hated herself for breaking his spirit. Why couldn't she have just played along? Like everything was alright? Like cereal for breakfast and ramen for supper were perfectly fine?
Rukia made up her mind to switch her mood the second she returned to him with the steaming cups. But as it were, fate had quite a different agenda.
At that exact moment that Kurosaki Rukia had made that decision, the microwave suddenly stopped and the world was cast into darkness.
Rukia froze and her words were rigid when she asked. "Ichigo, what's going on?" It was so inky black, she couldn't see her hands in front of her face.
Ichigo's voice came from the direction of the furniture. "The storm's probably cut the power. It's a blackout."
Rukia silently processed this information for two seconds. Then she cracked as she yelled an anguished "DAMMIT!!"
"Rukia, are you okay??!" Ichigo's voice came again, sounding alarmed.
"Yes, yes. I'm sorry, it's just…" Her speaking came to a furious decline and she seethed, blindly feeling for the microwave door, and taking out their cups of ramen. The food was lukewarm at best.
Rukia managed to find her way back to the couch. By then, Ichigo had found a battery-powered lamp and soon, their living room was illuminated by a weak white light.
"It's not hot." Rukia muttered apologetically, handing Ichigo his ramen.
The orange-haired man received his food quietly and snapped his chopsticks apart. "Thank you." He said, and dug in.
They ate in silence for the next few minutes.
Finally Ichigo whispered hoarsely "Four months."
Rukia looked up into his eyes.
"Just four months Rukia." Ichigo said a little clearer. "Four months and this internship will be over. Then I'll be paid for my work." He placed a hand on her face. "And I'll buy us better food. I'll move us out of this tiny place and we'll be happy. I swear."
The guilt that flooded Rukia was immeasurable. "I'm happy with you." She managed to mumble.
"You're just saying that."
"No, I am." She said again, and this time she even believed herself. She put down her ramen and drew nearer to him. "I just hate that you gave up your dream of writing to work in a firm. Taking law in college? A four year college detour? Then a marriage? You gave up everything to work in that stupid place. And I know you hate working there. Your optimism doesn't fool me. You're a horrible actor."
"Darn, I thought I had you fooled there." Ichigo said, trying to smile.
"Please don't smile." Rukia sighed. "I don't like being your burden, don't you understand that?"
"You're not a burden Rukia." Ichigo said more firmly. "And it's only four more months."
Four more months. He made them sound so simple. But could they really survive four more months on the rest of their savings…his savings. Rukia had gone over the numbers today. Finances had never looked so bleak.
Rukia didn't know what else to say. So she just finished her ramen and stretched herself on the couch, resting her head in Ichigo's laps.
Ichigo's hand moved automatically to run its fingers through the rich dark hair on her head.
"No choice I've ever made about you is regrettable, Rukia." Ichigo told her, wanting her to believe him. But her eyes still stared up skeptically. "Maybe the only thing I regret," Ichigo continued. "is that I didn't tell you how I feel about you sooner. Maybe then I could have made things better."
"Stop it." Rukia said, annoyed.
"Stop what?"
"Just stop it."
"But I mean it."
Rukia was getting very angry. "Just shut up, okay?"
Ichigo shrugged, unfazed. "I don't see how that'll change the truth."
Rukia wanted to hit him. But before she could, Ichigo had caught her hand and leaned over her.
He kissed her upside down so hard he took her breath away. Rukia tried to shove him off, but he wouldn't budge. So she just stopped struggling and let him do his thing, refusing to cooperate.
Ichigo eventually gave up and took his mouth of hers. "Meanie." He taunted with a mock pout.
Rukia shook her head at him. "You're such a baby." She whispered. Then she reached for his collar and tugged him in again.
They kissed for longer this time, and soon, clothes were dropping to the floor piece by piece. Lip lock soon transformed into something much more intimate on the couch and by the time they were finished, Rukia was trembling slightly, her breath heavy and irregular.
She swallowed, panting, then placed her head on his chest.
"I'm…" Pant. "…still…" Pant. "…mad at you." Rukia gasped, trying to catch her breath.
"I know." Ichigo said, panting too. He closed his eyes and hugged her close. "Can't you be angry at me tomorrow instead?"
"I suppose." Rukia whispered in a way that sounded like she hadn't considered it before.
They laid still in the darkness and listened to the rain outside for several minutes, thinking. Rukia thought of today…and of tomorrow…and the day after that; she thought of the future. She thought of how much she wanted this to work, and how she would do anything to have Ichigo come home to something (anything) other than store discount ramen. Then she looked up slightly and wondered what Ichigo was thinking.
By then the rain was barely a whisper of a roar, and its end was foreseeably near. Eventually, all was still and the quiet was defeaning. Ichigo's light snoring was now just audible.
Rukia smiled to herself. Very, very tentatively, she eased out of his hold and rose from the couch, slipped back into her jeans and bra, then grabbed the lamp and tiptoed to the bedroom.
From beneath the bed, she dragged a large envelope out and sat on the floor. Carefully, she opened it up again for the second time that night and poured out a pile of cut up newspaper pieces. Then she began to wistfully look at the unemployment section. She wasn't educated with the knowledge of this world but there had to be something she could do.
She read about cooking jobs, and cleaning jobs. Cashier jobs, teaching jobs and oh…that babysitting job didn't sound so hard.
Rukia browsed through her hoard of unemployment slips till her eyes began to burn.
Slowly, the night slipped away and soon in spite of herself, Rukia was beginning to feel sleepy. I'll just lie down for a while, she told herself groggily, sprawling out on her bedroom floor. In minutes, she too was gone, completely overtaken by exhaustion. She slept deeply.
The two slept soundly through the night, in different locations, dreaming different dreams. But that night, somewhere in their happy places, they knew they still had hope. Regardless of what would confront them, they would overcome their problems firstly because they had never been the kind to give up easily. And secondly because, they had each other and that was what mattered the most.
They slept in different places in that house, but that night…their hearts beat as one.
EPILOGUE:
Sometime during that night, the power returned. And with it, the phone rang continuously for about twenty seconds. But Rukia and Ichigo were in their private worlds and they didn't stir.
So the answering machine picked the call:
(Beep)
Kurosaki Ichigo, this is J&J Law Firm. We have received positive feedback about your work and we are pleased to inform you that we are terminating your internship and should you accept, starting next week, you will be a paid employee of J&J Law Firm. We hope to hear from you in the morning. Congratulations are in order.
(Beep)
So that's it! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please review on your way out.
I'll upload again when I can! Ciao!
