Word Count: 840
Characters/Pairings: Rukia; IchiRuki
Timeline/Spoilers: post-Winter War; spoilers for the end of that arc
Summary: Pt. 2 – we won, or we think we did
Notes: Once again, props to Stars for writing such a beautiful song. I suggest you play it through while reading. :)
I'd like to dedicate this to sunev.31 for the lovely review they left me. I hope you enjoy this second part! I also want to thank my guest reviewers who I am unable to respond to directly. You guys keep me going!
we won, or we think we did
.
Rukia tries to push him from her thoughts, but he always was a persistent fellow, edging his way into her life and her problems, whether she wanted him there or not. Her worn memories did no justice to the real thing. Though his sullen attitude would suggest otherwise, he was as bright and vivid as the sun itself (and not just because of the hair), and wholly impossible to deny; at least in her mind's eye. Real life, on the other hand, carries on just fine without him. The afterworld rebuilds, and death's messengers recuperate.
This is not the first time Soul Society has faced a grievous enemy such as Aizen, and it certainly won't be the last. But the next time it transpires, they won't have an orange-haired substitute wielding a colossal sword to fight their battles for them. They'll have to fend for themselves, as Rukia will inevitably have to face the darkness on her own.
She's become weak, relying on him as her crutch. Somehow, she does not find this supposed flaw unsavory, and rather welcomes it, in fact. To have an equal in mind and soul - is this how it feels?
Or how it felt.
She was the one that faded from his vision, right before his eyes, so why does it feel like he's the one who's vanished?
She feels his absence so keenly. It's in the expanse of her cold, empty bed chamber in the ancestral Kuchiki home, as opposed to the hustle and bustle of the Kurosaki household and the coziness of his (her) closet. It's the chill in her bones even when the drapes are drawn tight, and the hollow in her soul she hasn't felt since Sode no Shirayuki left her side.
Can the living haunt the dead? If anyone could manage it, she knows it would be Ichigo. That fool had no regard for proprietary or for natural, human boundaries.
For once, she wishes that were still the case. That he could overcome the pure humanness of losing his shinigami powers and spiritual force, and defy the odds for her once more. She's selfish that way, truly incorrigible to wish him to sacrifice his normal life for her sake again. (Where did all of these human emotions come pouring out from, Kuchiki Rukia? You are a shinigami, a soldier. Never forget.)
No, he has already done so much. And he was just a boy still, in the eyes of one over a century old, no matter that he had matured alarmingly fast due to necessity. The guilt over tearing him from his real (human) life sits in the pit of her stomach, burgeoning. This inner conflict will probably kill her, she thinks. And wouldn't her clan have a field day at that? Both Rukongai street urchins that had been adopted into the Kuchiki household killed by their own devices and without any of them having to stain their pretty, little, noble fingers.
But at least the war is over. If she has gained nothing else from this ordeal (though she is drenched in losses), the recognition from and renewed relationship with her brother is almost worth it. Almost. And his incredible revelations – a sister (a sister!) and a trail of sidestepped laws, all for the love he bore her.
Perhaps they could commiserate over lost lovers (or almost lovers) in some warped semblance of sibling bonding. Kuchikis always did do things their own way, after all. (And she was a Kuchiki through and through, if Byakuya had anything to say about it.) Her brother was already an excellent example of breaking from traditional expectations. The two of them also grieved in similar ways, silently brooding in solitary while acting as if nothing is amiss in front of the world.
But she knows he knows she is hurting. Just as she now knows that his once chilly gazes were a barrier put up to shield his already injured heart from further assault. They say that the eyes are a window into the soul, after all. She's not quite sure who 'they' are, though. Human textbooks were so very vague. She'll have to ask Ichigo about it next time she sees—
Oh.
Right.
"Even if you can't see me, I can still see you."
"That doesn't make me feel better at all!"
It doesn't make her feel any better either. Trust her. To not feel his intense gaze raking over her form, to not sense his spiritual pressure gently reaching out for hers, to not have him at her side in the most crucial moments is ineffably painful. Even a spirit as strong as hers must reach a breaking point.
But she's crumbled before, and always risen up from the shambles, though the feel of her very soul being torn apart seam by seam is rather new. If this was winning a war, she couldn't even fathom what losing would have been like. She's never felt a victory so hollow as this.
But, even for the dead, life must go on.
.
.
.
.
.
We won, or we think we did
When you went away, you were just a kid
And if you lost it all, and you lost it,
We will still be there when the war is over
Lift your head, and look out the window
Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go
A/N: I swear one day I'll write a piece where Rukia and Byakuya actually interact, and not just individually brood. I also want to write from Hisana's POV, and set before she dies LOL. Anyway, these two pieces are clearly meant to parallel each other very closely. Hope you picked up on it and enjoyed! Please don't favourite without reviewing!