This one is a sad theme. I tried to throw Ichigo in the reigns of human struggles, faced with human problems. I figured it's about time he faced his humanity.

Summary: Rukia, is wrestling with Ichigo's mortality, and her own resolve. None of the soul realms, or their perilous battles could have prepared them for this uphill battle.

Title: A Stroke of Bad Luck


He stared at her from the bed. To everyone else it was a blank stare, empty, void, and cold. But to Rukia, his stare was one of defeat, absolute and unforgivable. It was like the world had crushed his fire and left only an empty shell. Now more than ever, his mortality was present. He was finally being human, facing human problems. She had no doubt, as strong as he was, he could overcome this mountain. But not alone, and that's why she promised herself to be there. Every. Single. Step.

"Ichigo?" She whispered. He didn't respond when she approached him. She gave him a soft smile anyway, and stood next to his hospital bed. She tentatively reached out, and for a moment his right hand seemed to twitch. When nothing else happened, she ran her small finger's through his burning orange hair. "The doctor says you can go home tomorrow. Your father is out picking a wheel chair for you."

"God-damn.. kitty kitty.." Responded Ichigo.

"Yes," Rukia smiled weakly. "God damn those kitties."

Ever since Ichigo had suffered a stroke, he had been unable to say anything else. His mind seemed to grope for words, but all that came out was "God-damn, kitty kitty." He had also been unable to walk, his body had lost most of its coordination. And with so much loss came all that defeat.

But Rukia stayed ever hopeful. The doctor had said that Ichigo was still young. He was only in his mid-twenties after all. The stoke had been an odd curve ball, strange for his young age. However with physical therapy, and a lot of work, Ichigo should be able to re-learn what he had lost. With such hope in the future, how could she give up on him?

She reached out and took his hand. That action finally caused Ichigo to look up at her, and when she dove into those familiar amber eyes, she felt her whole heart break. Guilt washed over her, she knew it wasn't her fault, but she hated herself for being unable to help him right now. She loathed her helplessness. I will fix you.

A nurse came in at that moment. She smiled sweetly at Rukia and spoke in a very soft, and sickeningly melodious voice. "It's time for mister Kurosaki's exercises." She informed the two room occupants of this as if it were something delightful.

Rukia hated that nurse. She hated the woman's sweet demeanor. She hated how this woman could act so chipper and happy, as if nothing were wrong. Fuck you, thought Rukia bitterly. You, who can come in each day and be so joyful. You don't have to look your best friend in the eye, and swallow your own tears. You don't have to force words of hope past your chapped lips and assure him everything is alright. You don't have to hold his hand, and wish that he could say, "I love you." instead of... instead of "God-Damn, kitty kitty." The black-haired soul reaper simply plastered a fake smile on her face, and nodded at the chipper nurse. "I'll be back in a bit."

The nurse nodded, and beamed at the two of them. Rukia took a moment to tell Ichigo that she would be back after his physical therapy was over. When he didn't respond or even look at her, she swallowed a sob that threatened to escape, and kept it silent in the back of her throat. Then she shot one more fake smile at the nurse, and left the room.

She wandered down to the hospital's cafeteria, and she found Isshin and his two daughters. Yuzu and Karin had aged a lot since she first met Ichigo. They were developed and beautiful women, who even had jobs, and their own apartments. The girls had been frequent visitors alongside their father ever since Ichigo had been admitted into the hospital.

Before the stroke, Isshin had been graying. His once stark black hair had been showing the signs of human age. But now... now his hair was almost completely grey. In only a few weeks his hair color had changed so drastically. He acted so confident, and sure that his son would be alright. He acted as if Ichigo could power through anything, just as he had done before. But his body refused to let him hide the stress completely. Rukia knew it was the constant worry and stress that had caused the change in hair color. Isshin was just as powerless to help his only son, and it was tearing him apart too.

Yuzu and Karin were arguing loudly over something, probably the gross hospital food. And Isshin was looking through a brochure. When Rukia approached she saw it was a wheel chair brochure. The Kurosaki father looked up at her and beamed the biggest, and fakest, smile ever. He held up the brochure for her to see.

"How does this one look, Rukia-chan?" His voice was loud, and upbeat, but it also rang hollow. As if he was just trying too hard.

Rukia let her gaze wander over the brochure, and saw that he'd circled a rather nice wheel chair with a red sharpie. "It looks great." She answered. She gave him a grin to try and assure him that everything was alright. But when her eye's met with Isshin's, they both saw the pain the other was trying so hard to hide.

Isshin placed a large hand on her shoulder, it was comforting, just a little bit. "He'll be alright," he assured. "My son is strong, he'll get through this, and everything will be A-okay."

"Of course." Rukia assured right back.

They both knew she was fibbing.

0000

When this tragedy had befallen the young hero, Rukia had considered letting his soul form out of his human body for a bit. So that maybe he could talk again. But Soul Society had strictly forbidden it. Apparently when a human's body got sick like that, letting their soul form wander away was a bad thing. Something about them never wanting to return to such a crippled body. Ichigo's body needed him, or it would never recover. She refused to let him leave his body to die.

She felt a like a prison warden, but she promised to hold his soul hostage inside his human body, and force him to make the painful recovery. It was for his sake. She just prayed her sanity could hold out. She hadn't considered the possibility of giving up on Ichigo, he would never give up on her, so she wouldn't even consider it.

Tonight, Rukia went to the kurosaki residence. Ever since the stroke, she had spent every night in Ichigo's hospital room. Staying close and praying for a miracle. But now, she just wanted some time alone, time to think, and find her resolve. The house was empty when she arrived. Every light was off, even the front porch, and the place had a feeling of abandonment about it. No one had actually lived in the house for weeks now.

Rukia skipped the front entry way, and made for Ichigo's old window instead. She pushed the pane aside, and climbed onto the bed. A cold breeze followed her in, and she pushed the window back into place to shut it all out. The familiar scent of the room comforted her, but it was faint. Ichigo had moved out years ago, and the room was never the same after that.

Isshin had turned it into a pleasant guest room, all of the things his son had left behind were now stored in the closet. But even so, the room looked much the same as it had when Ichigo had been younger. And because of that, the memories washed over Rukia like a wave of green sea water, warm and pleasant, but at the same time bitter and sick.

Before she could stop herself she wandered over to his closet and slid the door open. The old blankets and futons she used to sleep on were in there, but they were buried under a few boxes. She felt a sudden anger over take her, and she began tearing the boxes out one by one, and hurling them aside onto the floor.

"Aaaaarrrrrrraaaaahhhhhh!" She screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Whaaaiiii...?!" She dug her way down to the futons. "A-a-a...ahhh." She climbed quickly inside and shut out the world. She coaxed her mind into pretending this was a different time. A happy time when she'd been hiding away from the spirit world. Back when she first trained Ichigo to be a soul reaper. But when she opened her eyes again, her happy time was covered in a thick layer of dust, signifying how long gone it really was. Like staring at it through an old photograph.

Rukia gently ran her hands over the familiar and soft material of the blankets. She buried them inside, deeper, trying to bury them so deep they wouldn't come back. She eventually stopped when her hand brushed against an piece of paper. Curious she grabbed it and pulled it out. She immediately saw that the paper was old, but it was still rather clean, meaning it had been untouched for many years.

She flipped it over and saw faded pencil writing. The words were smudged and light, and the whole thing was almost illegible. She was able to make out her name, and a few other words. She also recognized it as the stupid orange-head's high school hand writing. Rukia, stupid girl, so weird, I like you, friends, reaper, Can I, and, side by side, always.

She didn't know what the letter was trying to say. But it sounded sweet, she could almost imagine his voice saying the words right now. Obviously this letter had been meant for her years ago, but she'd never found it.

The letter was even signed with a smudged name, and an equally smudged rabbit drawing. She could just make out the shape and ears, and from the looks of it, Ichigo was a hell of an artist. She could now grasp why he always criticized her artwork. You draw beautifully, Idiot.

Rukia fell asleep in the closet, the note clutched and tucked under her chin. She slept uneasy, and restless. Several times waking up to question where she was, but when realization kicked in, her exhausted body would drift off again.

Morning came, but it felt like it had taken an eternity to arrive. Rukia was back at the hospital bright and early and she pushed past several indignant nurses who told her to wait till Ichigo woke up. She of course told them to piss off, and went into Ichigo's room anyway. They knew damn well who she was, and they knew she hardly spent a waking hour away from the orange-head's side. Not for the past few weeks, that is.

The commotion she caused entering the room woke Ichigo. She could tell right away, and hurried to his side.

"Hey." She greeted. Her expression softened at the sight of him.

"God-damn." he whispered back at her. He reached out with his good hand, and she caught it in her own.

"The doctor says your physical therapy is working." She squeezed his hand gently. "They say you've made leaps and bounds in recovering your body functions."

"God-damn, kitty kitty." He whispered to her reassuringly. His amber eyes fixed on hers.

"Your father is taking you back to the clinic today. You'll be going through all the same therapy, but in the comfort of a familiar place." She figured he had probably already been briefed on this, but talking to him felt comforting. Maybe if she did it enough he'd recover his words again.

She pulled his letter from her pants pocket and set in on his lap. Ichigo just stared down at it, but it seemed like he didn't actually see it.

"I found that letter in your old closet. Back at your Dad's place. It was addressed to me, I'm sorry I never saw it till now. It's real old and smudged, I couldn't read most of it." She poked it absently. Before looking at his face again.

Ichigo was staring at her, they locked eyes, and she saw something there. Ever since the stroke his eyes had always been dull, void, and empty. The fire had been dead, and gone. He'd sunk so low in depression, that all emotion had been sapped from his expression. But now, there was something dancing there, as if life was stirring.

"I'm gonna go find your father, and see if we can move things along." She smiled weakly at him. "I bet you're itching to go home, huh?" Rukia released his hand, and turned away to leave, but she felt a tug on her shirt before she could step away. She glanced down and saw that he'd grabbed her shirt with his right hand, the side that had been affected. Her heart jumped at the realization.

"G-god-damn..." He started to say again. Ichigo stopped, and she heard him swallow. Then he opened his mouth to try again. "God-damn... Roo."

Rukia spun around quickly. She swore she heard the beginnings of her name fall from his lips. "Ichigo?" She asked, almost afraid. Maybe she'd heard wrong.

He was silent, and instead just fixed her with a very desperate look. Almost pleading. It was the most light she'd seen in his eyes in weeks. A few moments passed and still nothing.

Rukia felt her heart sink, and her face fell with it. She reached out and patted his leg. "It's alright." She told him unconvincingly. I'm such an idiot, she told herself.

"N-no." The orange-head snatched her hand again. "G-god.. D-DAMN.. ROO!" He forced words out. Trying to make her listen. "Rrr-roo." His hand squeezed her's desperately.

Rukia choked for a moment. He really was trying to say her name. She said the only thing she could in response. The only thing she'd wanted to tell him, and the thing she'd regretted not saying before this incident. "I love you too... You big, stupid moron." She couldn't stop the tears that slipped down her face, and no matter how she swallowed, the sobs escaped her throat.

The left side of Ichigo's mouth turned up, it wasn't much of a smile, but it was a thousand times more than she'd seen in awhile. "Kitty, kitty." He told her as if it explained everything.

0000

A few hours later Isshin showed up with the wheelchair. He'd taken care of all the check out procedures, and they were all set to transfer Ichigo to the clinic. It took a bit to get Ichigo out of bed and into the chair, but Isshin was as strong as ever and holding Ichigo up proved to be an easy task for him. They finally got the orange-head settled into the chair, and a feeling of accomplishment followed them.

"Well boy," Announced Isshin. "I'm gonna go bring the van around to pick you up. Rukia'll take you from here." He clapped Rukia on the shoulder and gave her a wink. Then he left to go get the vehicle ready.

Rukia locked her violet eyes with amber once again. Something seemed to be happening behind those eyes again, but she couldn't figure out what. She sighed and shook her head, then she came up behind him and grasped the handles of the wheel chair. She paused for a moment before pushing the chair forward towards the exit.

When she reached the door she paused again. "Hey, we're friends...right?"

"G-god, Roo." He answered.

"This," She said confidently. "This is nothing."

Ichigo tried to turn his head to look at her, but it didn't work quite well.

"You're my partner, moron." She ruffled his hair. "We got this, no sweat." Rukia began pushing him again, and they were out in the hall before she spoke again. "We will always be partners, got that. And No matter what happens, nothing will change who we are."

There was a moment of silence following that. "God-damn, kitty kitty." He replied confidently. His words weren't new, but the conviction in them was apparent. He sounded like he was ready to fight again, like there was hope still.


I wanted to write something a little more realistic. Down to earth so to say. I've never experienced someone near me having a stroke, but people have told me stories of their own experiences. This is based off those. Tell me how close I got. And forgive me for any inaccuracies, I read up on strokes before writing this, but I might have still made some mistakes.

R&R if you would, it would mean a lot, especially on this chapter.

I'm still accepting prompt ideas for more one shots, and I hope to publish new ones weekly. If not weekly, bi-weekly.

I may even do some mature ones if people would like.