"So you try to think of someone else you're mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone."
—Ellen Hopkins
You don't think about it for the longest time and it becomes a doubt, a dream. Yet…It happened. And there's nothing you could do to undo it.
And then they ask you why you're like this.
You hear the nurses whispering like the devil behind your back, but in your ear. 'The family didn't raise her well.' 'Little bitch should be locked up in prison.' 'Ichigo, where's oka-san?"
Keep asking.
You'll never get an answer.
Ulquiorra's POV
Hm.
Kurosaki Ichigo. Kuchiki Rukia.
He pressed the intercom that lead to the front secretary's line.
"Insert the information of the two new boarders into the system, Nel. Now." He was bored with these people.
He looked up at the sweet woman sitting on the couch in his office, immersed in a cooking magazine.
"Orihime." She looked up. "I want you to go to Kuchiki Rukia, who is currently standing in the middle of the stairs on our front entrance and help her out a bit."
She nodded. Got up, kissed his cheek and skipped out.
He smirked before silently creeping back into thought again.
He always wondered why he even opened up this institute.
He has heard other people claim him to be the one who "understands what kind of troublesome catastrophes have spun these young men and women off their course."
That was not what he personally thought though.
He did not know what to think.
All he knew was that he opened this institute so that it can be a success.
It did not matter why he opened it in the first place.
Not yet, anyway.
Ichigo's POV
The dorm was painted in a dark forest green; in fact all the rooms were painted in a dark forest green with black or white furniture-it's your pick.
You take out a couple of shirts and fold them into the dresser, thinking about what the rest of your stay here will consist of.
And what condemned you here in the first place.
Damn the moment you took up martial arts. Damn the moment your mom volunteered to take you back home. Damn the moment you were even born.
Because there are people, like you, who are damned when they were born.
And there was nothing they could do about it.
Like a birth defect. A missing limb, a deformed face, an incomplete brain. You were also born with happiness. Some people have a missing part, too.
It's just not seen. And when it is…
It's too late, my dear.
Because it went downhill from here. Until you broke your crown. And someone came tumbling after.
The hill was really long. You keep walking down.
That was the difference between you and other people.
While they tumble down, you walk down willingly, slowly.
Hold in the hand of an invisible ghost.
And you keep chewing your lip piercing until your skin burns, a warning that, if you continue, the crimson floodgate will break itself out.
You look at the alarm clock beside you. 8:30 P.M.
You take off your shirt, your muscled and toned chest, the big black serpentine tattoo on the top of your arm glaring out.
You rip back the white covers.
And you sink into the cushion of the bed…that is not your bed.
But you were so tired, so fuckin' tired.
Rukia's POV
You stood outside for fifteen minutes in the chilling wind, tracing and imagining the route it would take to get back home with your eyes, until one of the employees, a busty orange-head with a kind, clueless, and clumsy smile, wrapped a blanked around your shoulders and led you into my dorm, where I was to unpack the last (and personal) bag.
As she stood in the corner of your room the girl whispered softly, "My name is Orihime Inoue. I'll be helping you out until you're ready to be on your own here. The employees here were already ordered by your brother to unpack for you. There's a paper on the desk telling you where everything is."
You nod your head stiffly and state blankly, "Kuchiki Rukia."
Your eyes roam the room, the dark forest green walls and black furniture. Thankfully, her instructions this time were followed and everything was put where she wanted it to be.
Her eyes left the rich carpet she was studying and poking with the heel of her beige boots and peeked out from under her long lashes at you. "Would you like some hot chocolate sent to you? You're still shivering."
That is when you look down at yourself and notice the fact that your body is shaking violently. It wasn't from the cold though.
But you weren't about to tell her that.
"Sure. It's a bit cold here. Thanks." The muscles of your jaw silently screech in agony and grind like metal against each other as the edges of your lips come up in a shadow of a smile.
At the thanks and the "smile", Orihime brightened up. "No problem. Goodnight."
As she went to go to the kitchen to order the hot chocolate, you strip out of your gray and purple pleated skirt and the black blouse with the gray tie, into soft black silk and lace pajamas.
You peel the covers off the bed and cautiously sit in the bed. The door knocked announcing your hot chocolate's arrival.
"Come in."
A girl with black ponytails and a crude smile stepped in and placed the tray of hot chocolate on the nightstand before she scrambled out. You bring up the swishing hot chocolate to your lips and close your eyes.
Trying not to allow your quaking body to spill the scorching liquid onto your lap.
A/N: Chapter 3! Review! Review! Review! Please? And I'm not sure if anybody noticed that Ichigo and Rukia's parts are all written in 2nd person, while everybody elses is written in third. This has a reason, and you'll notice changes towards the end of the story.
Arigatou, guys! And please keep reviewing! =)