patter, pitter

rain, rain

The last time he calls her Kukuchi-san is when she tells him not to.

It's confusing, because she lets everyone else address her formally. (Ichigo, as always, is an exception.)

So, he stands there, in the middle of the street, a little more than bewildered. She doesn't stare back. In fact, she begins to head to Ichigo's residence, as if her demand should not have been so shocking. Frowning, he wonders if she knows exactly what she just requested of him. Her steps are so light, as if that something (that invisible ribbon, goal, whatever they share) wraps gently around her ankles to her toes, softening each landing.

"Kuchiki-san, I—"

She spins her heel in a second and pointedly glares at him, silently.

He gazes back, questioning himself whether or not he should simply retreat or stay.

"Maybe you didn't hear me?" she asks, quietly and frowns. "It is all right if you call me Rukia."

"Wouldn't that create a difference between how the others address you and—"

She waves her hand and he stops talking. "I've said the same thing to them," she pauses and (falsely) smiles, "They've chosen to continue recognize me as 'Kuchicki-san'."

He nods. And she sighs.

"I must get going to..." she trails off and he knows the rest.

"Then I'll see you soon," he waves and because he's that different: "Good day, Rukia."

pit-patter, tap

go away

The last time she underestimates him, she's angry.

At Ichigo.

(Shocker.)

Urahara laughs it off, saying that the two will make up in no time. She's not amused and Orihime attempts to placate her. (Fails.) And within the small shop, Rukia spots Ishida leaning against the walls, arms folded and an attentive look in his eyes. Switching standing positions, the small shinigami studies him carefully.

With a sigh, she breathes quietly, "He'll never change."

"You can't expect him to always do the right thing."

Everyone's attention is directed to Ishida. He continues, unfazed.

"Ichigo gets himself into the worst situations," Ishida gestures to the outside, where Ichigo is presumably hiding away and training, "but he manages to save us in the end."

Rukia shakes her head, a little annoyed at the defence. "Perhaps. But one of these days, it won't save him."

"From what? Who?" Ishida narrows his eyes and quietly asks, "You?"

And she knows what she's up against from now on.

She's not too worried though.

tat, pitter, tap

come again another day

The last time he denies it, Orihime is with him.

She walks besides him in the park near the school, small handbag swaying from her shoulder. Walking her home has become a regular routine for the both of them and he knows she appreciates the company. He stops when he sees she's lagging behind. Her eyes snap up to his and he notices her shudder.

Taking off the light jacket, he lays it upon her head, smiling with good humor as she laughs, thanking him. Adjusting the coat to fit on her shoulders, they continue on their way. She still is half a step behind and he wonders why.

"Is something wrong, Inoue-san?"

It's like she wants to say something so much more than what they have time for.

"You've grown warmer, Ishida-kun."

He quirks an eyebrow, misunderstanding the statement. "The coat?"

She laughs suddenly. "No, no," the sweet girl begins walking again and takes him by the hand. "You've changed. Just a little."

"Is that a good thing, Inoue-san?"

Orhime nods slightly then frowns. "Is it because of Rukia, I wonder?"

Ishida doesn't understand all over again. And, probably because she's squeezing his hand and the gesture has taken him by surprise—however, less than it should have, really. She giggles and his attention turns to her quiet smile.

"Rukia has changed also."

"Many things have happened."

Orihime shrugs and they keep following their path. Slightly swinging their hands together, she hums a tune he's heard before. Soft and melodic, just like her and he remembers why he had fallen in love with her first. There's no one else in the park besides them and a couple children.

The tune stops but he doesn't notice, finding thoughts of their latest battles and arguments more interesting. She sighs before speaking.

"Will Rukia stay forever?"

"She's a shinigami, she has other duties."

"I don't want her to leave here."

And, suddenly, she releases his hand and comes to a halt. He stops in front of her, staring curiously.

"Orihime?"

A deep frown creases her face, as if abruptly troubled by something he's done or said. She's gazing at him straight in the eye—Ishida recalls this is her style, really. If she wishes to have anyone listen, she'll shoot point blank and won't miss. So he wonders what she wants to get across to him.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Do you want Rukia to leave?"

He doesn't know how to answer that, really. But she's already speaking before he can anyway.

"If Rukia leaves, will you miss her?"

"Of course," it's automatic.

"Would you stop her if she told you?"

She demands it almost softly enough to make him wonder if something has already happened.

But then, suddenly: "Do you love her?"

He doesn't answer that one at all and beckons her to come along before it rains.

pitter, dribble, drop

rain, rain

The last time she wonders why his eyes soften each time they land on her, she's torn and bruised.

A hollow got her. Typical.

Alone, she lies on the ground, as rain pours over her form, deluding the blood on the cement below her. The rain hits against her face and she's a bit thankful it's washing away the blood from her hair. Just moments before, she had woken up from her faint of exhaustion and probably blood loss. Rukia likes how the rain rolls off her skin so lightly, without trouble and haste. She thinks she'll stay here for a little bit longer, it's comforting.

So she thinks of things. She remembers that Isshin is supposed to make dinner tonight for Yuzu and Karin's birthday and how she's going to be late for it. There is a thought of how strange it is Ichigo hadn't come to her rescue this time (he's too busy these days, too busy for his sisters, for Rukia, but whatever). She thinks of how hard it is for her to keep fighting when she never wanted to in the beginning.

Suddenly, the rain stops over her face and in one moment, she's being lifted ever-so carefully. Rukia would like to think it may be Ichigo lifting her (perhaps, this time, he found time for her) but Ichigo's hands are big and more calloused and grip her tightly. The hands that cradle her are more tender and gentle. And, she's sure of who it is.

Opening her eyes, she sees his face, full of apprehension.

"I was fine on the ground," she doesn't want to burden him (because, really, she owes him and everybody else in the world her life). Her voice, she realizes, doesn't come out the way it should. It's worn and scratchy. Maybe she'll drink some water later, she thinks...

He doesn't answer, strangely, and he continues down the side of the road. His strides are wide, but he does not hurry. She wonders why but won't ask. The rain no longer falls on her face, so she doesn't complain; his warm body is comforting and that's fine with her. Her eyes drift open and shut every so often and she notices certain things about him. How the rain causes his hair and clothing to cling to his skin, how his eyes seem so much narrow, his jaw so set and breathing so shallow. Just little things that make her wonder.

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to his destination and she knows instantly it is his apartment. He places her on the mat on the floor where she assumes is his room and begins bandaging her arms and head. She wants to tell him she'll heal soon enough, that there's no need for his aid. But the air seems so fragile and it'll break as soon as she speaks. So, she lies there like a good girl and is quiet as he attends to the (insignificant, she thinks) injuries.

Watching his features as he delicately wraps her arm in the white cloths, she notes his steady frown. Or is it a frown? She can't tell; Ichigo often sports a frown but it is nothing like Uyruu's. His is almost...painful. It's hardly there and she sees how he attempts to hide it. Nevertheless, he has not met her gaze thus far, only achknowleding her wounds. It's not annoying like she would have thought but it causes the question of why.

When he is finished, he lies a hand upon her stomach and, painfully, she takes a sharp breath. Instantly and probably unintentionally, he snaps his eyes to hers.

She wonders why her heart hurts more than her own wound when his features twist into complete suffering. Funny, if she hadn't known better, she would say her pain causes him—oh. So he hasn't been looking at her because...? Rukia tries not to allow the small realization show.

He masks it quickly and she pretends it never happened.

Sitting up, she allows him to rip the uniform further in order to tend to the wound across her adomen. It's nothing too bad—just right above her belly button, but, to be honest, it hurts. His hands are like ghosts against her skin and she hardly feels anything.

Things begin to blur and she knows sleep has captured her again. She slumps against his shoulder as her eyes finally fall, feeling him grow rigid at the sudden contact.

But it's fine...it's fine. Just...let her sleep...

tip, drip, pitter

we want to come out and play

—x—