A/N: This drabble has, um, supernatural stuff and sex. Yeah, it's another AU! I got this inspiration after I watched a filler Halloween episode in Bleach featuring Rukia as a succubus. It looked damn awesome to me! Byakuya as an incubus made me laugh! So in this long one-shot I guess I'm trying to make the idea of a succubus more serious and interesting rather than just a sexy lady with wings inside mindless porn. How does the idea of succubus!Rukia sound to you guys?
Anyway, this drabble will be split into two chapters (this being the first one), much like the previous drabble! Hope you all like it :-)
Dark hair pooled pillows like silk as the silhouette of a shapely, petite woman straddled a motionless figure of a man. The black-haired man's breaths were coming out in faint gasps and his eyes were glazed with lust as the woman's lips trailed across his sweaty forehead. Pools of violet liquid glowed like diamonds in her eyes, her perfect skin sparkling with an alluring hue as she drank in the delicious wave of his potent life energy. Her mouth slanted over his gaping mouth, hands playing with his hardness.
Wings fluttered across her arched back, giving her the appearance of an avenging angel.
The wings stretched out further, catching the silvery moonlight from the window as its rays illuminated the outline of the elegant appendages. In the milky white light of the moon, her wings were a vivid crow black, like an ugly dark smear against the beauty of the night. The man choked.
She was no angel.
Algebra. Bla bla bla.
Rukia rolled her eyes in boredom, her small fingers playing with her pen. She avoided looking at the rows of inky black, wormy numbers printed dully on her stack of heavy notes and the dark blue calculator sitting expectantly beside it, as if waiting for her to pick it up and get to work. The lecturer's deep baritone reverberated throughout the lecture theatre, describing a sum and its complicated, intricate equations.
University was so boring. Why was she here again, when she clearly didn't need an education?
The girl's violet orbs roved her classmates' profiles furtively, and then at their lecturer. Sighing, she lowered her head down subtly -she hoped- and popped her Chappy candy into her mouth. The sweetness flooded her tongue at once, giving the distraction she needed from the dullness of her lecture.
''Kuchiki-san!'' A familiar voice whipped authoritatively through the lecture theatre immediately.
Rukia stiffened at once, feeling instantaneous anger rise in the pits of her stomach. It was as if he had been watching her the whole time- despite how expertly he appeared not to be- just to look out for the slightest trace of rule-breaking from her. She had no idea how he had the annoying ability to focus on teaching while covertly watch her at the same time.
He picked on her like there was no tomorrow!
''Yes... Kurosaki-sensei?'' The young girl looked up at her lecturer defiantly, candy rolling in her mouth vigorously. She was determined to show him she didn't give a damn about him and his stupid rules.
Said lecturer was glaring at her with fiery amber eyes, although she noticed the beginnings of a discreet smirk on his full lips. He was wearing his trademark shadowy black trench coat, which only made his spiky orange hair more vibrant than ever. ''Have you forgotten about the school rule- namely, no eating in class?''
''What can I say, Sensei?'' She fluttered her eyelashes mockingly at him from behind her large owl-like glasses, savouring the twitch in his face at her sugary voice. ''I have a really poor memory.''
Her other classmates, namely the female ones, gave her the evil eye. Or evil eyes. They were, after all, Kurosaki-sensei's devoted fan-club, along with the rest of the female school population. Except Rukia, that was.
Even now, she wasn't sure what had happened, but ever since she'd transferred into Karakara University a couple of months ago, she had been at immediate loggerheads with Kurosaki-sensei, a young, handsome male lecturer in his mid-to-late-twenties. It was as if they had been born enemies for all of their past lives-and now that they had found each other, the natural, ingrained animosity began to overwhelm them and here they were, keen to inflict mortal suffering on the other.
Rukia wasn't certain why she disliked him. While the rest of the females in the school adored him, he irritated her. Sure, he was attractive. He was tall and elegantly lean, and wore tight long-sleeved shirts that made it easy for girls to ogle at the taut curves of his sleek, muscled body. Meanwhile, Rukia hated his constant scowl, his mutinous expressions and above all his stupid bright orange hair. Hello? A lecturer with such bright hair just didn't fit in somehow! A teacher, in her opinion, was supposed to be wearing specs and have dull dark hair and look kindly but boring. He wasn't supposed to look… good or look like a delinquent!
As for his attractiveness, her best friend Inoue kept saying Rukia was simply intimidated by it.
Rubbish. Rukia was never intimidated by anything, least of all by that stupid know-it-all teacher!
Still, he did have a kind heart, she supposed grudgingly. The man would never refuse anyone who needed his help, be it academically or outside of that. She'd seen him carrying students to the infirmary when they got injured, or being willing to stay back hours after school time to help a student out on a math problem. He was always patient beneath his stupid scowl, and she'd never once witnessed him being exasperated with the slower pupils in class. Despite his apparent care for his students he had never expressed anything more than professional concern for them, and certainly not to the schoolgirls, despite how they openly fawned over him.
She didn't know exactly what he thought of her. Most likely, she guessed, as the only girl alive in the school to act defiantly around him. And maybe also as the nerdy, unattractive girl in school. Perhaps her attitude and unattractiveness made him dislike her.
He sneered at her then, bringing her out of her thoughts, and tapped his pointing stick on the projector. ''Well, maybe some detention ought to refresh your memory!''
Rukia stared daggers at him, gripping her pen so tightly she thought it would crack. Some girls snickered to her left, while the boys watched on sleepily. All the smugness that she had been feeling before left her chest like a distant memory. ''Well, I can't go,'' she fired back, not caring that she was being rude. ''I won't go. You've made me attend detention for nearly two weeks straight!''
''And I'll make you attend it for even longer if I want!'' Kurosaki retorted coolly, a gleam falling on his amber irises. The sooty row of his overlong lashes narrowed. ''Detention. Today. Straight after school. Don't be late.''
He shot her a final smirk before turning back and promptly resuming the lecture, ignoring the poisonous looks she was sending his way. From the way he was smoothly talking about the latest arithmetic problem, his brows furrowed in concentration, it was as if they'd never had a heated debate to start with.
Crack. The candy splintered into pieces in her mouth as she clenched her teeth in fury.
Rukia nonchalantly headed to the kitchen counter of her apartment in the late afternoon, dropping her keys onto the smooth marble surface. Placidly she picked a cheese puff from a plate with one hand, the other hand adjusting her neatly tied bun. Her hideous large glasses drooped slightly from her tiny nose as she leaned forward. The girl looked like a typical nerd, and also a typical plain Jane. While the other girls in school actually bothered to dress up and doll up, especially around Kurosaki-sensei, Rukia wore no make-up, and was decked in slacks. She looked so insignificant that nobody even bothered to give her a second glance on the streets or in school. It was such a contrast to what was her usual lifestyle.
She'd nearly puked in front of the mirror when she saw her reflection on the first day of school a few months ago. Still, it was necessary. She wanted to be inconspicuous.
Swallowing the remains of the cheese puff, she left the kitchen and approached her roommate's room. Faint noises of bumping resounded softly. Without bothering to knock, she pulled the door open- and sighed.
The curtains were drawn, casting the room in a dark shade. The outline of Inoue's bent head and shoulders could be seen visibly from where she emerged from a crinkled blanket pooling on a large bed. Her light-coloured hair, gleaming in the dimness, cascaded radiantly down the white sheet of the blanket, and Rukia could hear her giggling. As the schoolgirl watched, a pair of small inky black wings rose from the creamy skin of Inoue's slender back, like shadows rising from purity.
Inoue was anything but pure. Neither was Rukia.
Creatures that generally fed off men weren't.
It was indeed amazing, she had to conclude to herself, that her kind could even last through to the modern era of humans. For far too long mortals had declared succubi to be part of folklore; to be mostly fiction and to be the results of an overactive imagination. Perhaps some thought a succubus to be the imagination's female lead in a wet dream. They were right about that, for in many cases wet dreams could summon many unbelievable beings as was the male imagination- even without a real succubus to interfere. She'd always wanted to roll her eyes at the male population of humans.
This was why she's hardly felt any guilt in her nightly conquests of her feeding. Males regarded sexual intercourse as simply sexual intercourse. There was never anything more to it for them, and they were willing to do it with just about any female that looked remotely attractive. Stealing small bouts of their life energy was something she felt they deserved.
Yet, many of her kind had died out. They had all existed in the earliest beginning of time, along with herself and Inoue. There had never been a lot of them in the start, and for a while they had just been mere souls invisible in the day but more than visible at night in the dreams of men. No one among the souls had questioned who they were- they simply followed their sole instinct to feed like a dog on a bone and for a while they had lingered mindlessly along the lands, with the probable slightest trace of consciousness.
It took about a few more centuries before they actually stirred and became alive, to start to take note of their surroundings and to become more… tangible. For even to themselves, they had been as faint as to the men who regarded them in the day. And then they had begun to communicate amongst themselves, wondered for the first time just what they were, and for a long century, they did not know. They were as clueless as the humans. They were also far from saints; feeding on men through their dreams. They were not proud of this; for they were the semblance of a man's sin- the lusting dreams a married man had about another woman who was not his wife.
And one faithful day, the emotion loneliness had been introduced. Rukia, or the succubus with no name as she had been then, had been incredulous at what the other succubi had been feeling. They were beautiful souls who took what they wanted every night, and they were lonely? Men were sinners; why would she want the one thing a man gave his wife and yet never to succubi no matter how they seduced him?
Love.
The idea of its existence from any man made her want to laugh. It was foolish and stupid to want something as fragile and transparent as that. Yet want it the other succubi did, and this want only deepened over time. They were jealous of human women- human women who had none of their breath-taking beauty, women who had none of their devastating seductive femininity. They wanted the one thing human women had that they didn't; a lover.
Rukia and Inoue alone had remained unaffected by this, and they could only watch on as the rest of their kind gradually stopped feeding, so consumed as they were by these foreign wants and emotions. It wasn't that Rukia didn't care about them; it was just that succubi had little of their bonds humans had. They were free souls that wandered the places of the feudal era, and as time flew swiftly by, more and more of them vanished permanently. Lack of feeding and therefore the lack of life energy had stopped sustaining what slight life forms there were.
Rukia wasn't sure whether there were any succubi left besides herself and Inoue. If there were, they were extremely rare. There were many times when Rukia had wondered what she was doing in this world. Her life was a mere repetitive cycle of feeding, dressing up as a plain human mortal, then feeding again. However, recently… her lips curled. Defying and arguing with Kurosaki-sensei was giving her quite a fun time.
Quickly shaking off the sudden thought, she looked at Inoue disapprovingly. The woman had finally noticed Rukia's presence, and she wiped her mouth guiltily. Rukia was not surprised to see a passed out teenage male on the bed, his head cocked limply to one side on the pillow. She recognised him immediately- he was one of her classmates. The guy wasn't dead, far from it, but for the next few hours after he awoke he would be sleepy and disorientated.
"I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san," Inoue wailed, and the dark-haired girl watched as her friend's wings shimmered ethereally before fading out of sight. The busty girl hauled herself off the bed gracefully, decked in a seductive short dress that revealed more than it hid, barely clothed hips sashaying, and Rukia noticed the now healthy sheen Inoue's complexion had taken. After all, she had just finished quite a heavy meal, Rukia noted disapprovingly. "I guess the diet just didn't work out! I got really hungry just now and I couldn't help myself!"
The raven-haired female sighed. "Look, fine, but why did you bring the boy here? It's going to be harder than ever to get rid of the evidence. Once he wakes up here, he's going to wonder. If you'd left him at his home he would at least think it was a dream or something."
"Don't worry, Rukia!" Inoue said cheerfully. "I'm gonna bring him back to his house before he wakes. He lives in an apartment a couple of streets away from here." Her pretty round brown eyes suddenly widened at an abrupt realization sinking in her mind, and Rukia flinched at the unexpected accusatory look now thrown her way. "What are you doing here? Don't you have detention with Kurosaki-sensei?"
The smaller woman instantly scowled, a look of utter displeasure on her delicate features. "Who cares about him? You're acting as if I'm obliged to go to his stupid detention!"
Inoue's jaw dropped. "So you really didn't go. Kuchiki-san, why?"
Rukia lowered herself onto a nearby study chair, looking far too casual and disinterested for the auburn-haired woman's liking. "Don't worry about it, Inoue. Besides, if I let myself obey that idiot lecturer's commands too much, he'll think I'm easy."
Inoue rubbed her forehead in frustration. "I thought our plans for this year was to settle down and keep a low profile among the humans! We've been trying to blend in for so long! We're supposed to be as inconspicuous as possible, and keep out of trouble-"
"Oh, come on, Inoue," Rukia sighed, adjusting her massive glasses. "I hardly think skipping detention is going to cause an apocalypse."
There was a pause. And then-
"You know what I think you should do, Kuchiki-san?" Inoue smiled suddenly, the swift change in her demeanour from being previously exasperated to presently jovial so abrupt that it alarmed Rukia. "I think you should have him for your next feeding."
The petite woman jerked violently in her chair at the almost pragmatic suggestion, the resulting horror reflected in her wide violet eyes more than visible. "Inoue!"
''What?" Inoue replied, her smile widening as she seated herself onto the side of her bed, careful not to jostle the unconscious male lying nearby. "Don't be so shocked, Kuchiki-san. Kurosaki-sensei would be a delicious feed- you know that. Teenage boys are pretty nice, sure, but the older and more virile they get, like right at Kurosaki-sensei's age, their spirit energy becomes tastier-"
"Stop, stop, stop!" Rukia blurted out indignantly. Her creamy, pale cheeks were now smattered with a light pink hue, and her tiny fists were balled together at her sides. "This is ridiculous, Inoue! Let's be straight about one thing- that man is an enemy, you hear me! Just the mere thought of touching him is enough to turn me off!"
If that was supposed to faze Inoue, it didn't work. The taller woman's pink lips simply curved upwards suggestively. "You know what I think?" She asked slowly. "I think-"
"Enough!" Rukia shouted hastily, her glasses slightly askew- not to mention the diminutive woman's complexion was also beginning to flush deeply. She quickly stood up from the chair, tone bossy. "This absurd discussion is over. I cannot for the life of me even understand why we're having this preposterous talk in the first place! For one thing, we have bigger problems right now, such as this boy here." Her slender finger jabbed at the sight of the soundly sleeping male beneath Inoue's thick blanket. "How are we going to get him out of here without being seen?"
Inoue, now effectively distracted, scratched the back of her beautiful auburn head sheepishly. ''I'm not sure?''
Rukia groaned.
It was nevertheless to say that Kuchiki Rukia was immensely irritated as she half-carried the almost unconscious boy along the streets. He had finally somewhat stirred from his long slumber, and was now blinking confusedly and blearily, his legs stumbling stupidly along the pavement with his arm hoisted around Rukia's shoulders as they moved with some difficulty onto the path.
"Kuchiki-saaan?" He slurred, eyes half-open with sleepy bemusement. "Why- you.. What are you..." Her classmate paused, apparently unable to come up with the proper words to form a coherent sentence. Finally, he settled for a weak, albeit dreamy, "Inoue-san?"
Rukia sighed moodily. She had told the busty female to stay put at home, not wanting her to cause any more trouble than she already had. Honestly, Inoue could preach to Rukia all she wanted about keeping their cover with Kurosaki-sensei, but the things Inoue did, such as bringing the boy to their home was already dangerous enough. It was more customary for them to carry out their feeding routines in the unknowing males' places of residence, and most certainly not the other way round. What was Inoue thinking, doing something so risky that it could have exposed their secret?
In response to the male's slurred statement, Rukia, while adjusting the male's arm lying like dead weight on her aching shoulders, responded sourly, "What of her? I found you passed out somewhere in the classroom after school today. Consider yourself lucky that the nurse told me to personally send you home right now."
A lie, naturally. Rukia had no qualms in speaking untruths; she was already accustomed to it in her lifetime.
Besides, the look of blatant disappointment on the boy's face at seeing her instead of Inoue only made her want to punch him. He blinked owlishly back at her, his lips pulled down to a miserable sulk. "I had such a nice dream..."
He didn't seem too concerned that Rukia had told him she had apparently found him passed out for no reason in school, especially after so many hours since school had ended. But then again, the males who had been fed on by the succubi generally took some time to recover from the sleepy haze clouding their minds during the aftermath. Men. They were so ridiculous, especially the teenage ones. Still, it benefited her, she supposed.
It took about another fifteen minutes' walk before the pair finally made it to the entrance of the tall block of apartments, their feet shifting clumsily on the concrete ground. Fortunately, the male had become more lucid throughout the minutes and was beginning to be able to walk without needing much assistance anymore. It was a good thing too, Rukia reflected, or she would have really killed Inoue for this. The boy's residence might be (long) walking distance from their home but it didn't help that he was half-asleep and that she had to support his weight on the way.
They approached the elevator doors, and Rukia blinked as the boy disentangled himself gracelessly from her, body still swaying slightly. "I'll be fine now, Kuchiki-san," he said sleepily, finger jabbing the metal button. "I can make it up the lift on my own."
She peered dubiously up at him. He was way taller than her, even for a teenager. Or maybe she was just short. Yeah, she was short. "You sure?"
He gave her a fleeting, weak grin as the lift doors opened creakily. "Yeah. Thanks a bunch, by the way."
And then the boy was gone, having entered the lift. She watched as the doors then rumbled to a close, the boy drowsily pressing his head against the coffee-coloured wall of the lift, and waved awkwardly at him through the tinted glass windows in farewell. What exactly was she to say to Inoue's afternoon snack, anyway, when they parted? So very awkward.
It was, after all, only by nature that she and Inoue kept their feedings separate. They didn't share boys –or if they did, they wouldn't do it on the same occasion. It would be during different times. This way it saved a lot of mess, plus both succubi feeding on the same male simultaneously could end up depriving him of too much life energy, thus killing him.
Sighing idly to herself the petite woman turned, adjusting her large owl-glasses, and prepared to head home. She was tired –that boy was no lightweight- and just wanted to crawl to her bed and sleep. She was about to embark on the long walk back when something caught her attention.
Rukia froze.
Surely she had imagined it-? No- no, she hadn't, for no matter how many times she blinked desperately in the same direction- it was still there, and her breath hitched in fear as a familiar sight of bold orange greeted her horrified eyes.
A tall, black-clad man, his overlong orange mane a tussled mess, was stooped over a mailbox nearby, tinkling keys held in one large, calloused hand. Why hadn't she noticed him earlier? Had he just arrived? That seemed most probable. Even from where she stood –in front of the elevator doors- she could make out the angular features of the man's face; the golden eyes hooded by sooty lashes, the proud straight nose and the thin, striking lips.
There was no mistaking the very features that had driven schoolgirls to a mad swoon.
Very slowly Rukia backed away, her pulse racing. Ichigo Kurosaki lived here? Why? Why was she so unlucky? This had to be a joke, right?
But it wasn't. Already, Kurosaki-sensei was straightening up, holding some letters in his hand. He looked very real, alright. If she didn't do something now, he would see her. He would see her. She, who had defiantly skipped his detention today, who seldom did his homework, who did poorly in his subject- who was also the only student in school to defy him every day. Fuck, Rukia thought, violet eyes darting wildly about beneath crooked glasses for a safe cover.
It was then that the elevator doors behind her suddenly rumbled open, and a couple strode out, hardly sending her a glance her way. On a desperate, thoughtless whim, Rukia shot straight into the lift after them, smelling the strong scent of paint and spray inside, and slammed a small hand onto the "Close" button.
She bit her lip, pulse rocketing. Oh so slowly, the powerful doors began to shut with a metallic growl, the hinges creaking softly, sealing her safety- before a single large tanned hand abruptly shot out of nowhere between them, and pressed effortlessly against one door, effectively yet casually halting its movement. Rukia's heart gave a terrified lurch in her chest, her tiny fists trembling helplessly, as the lift doors opened once more, revealing amused, masculine features.
"Well, well," Ichigo Kurosaki drawled, "Who do we have here?"
She was going to kill Inoue.
She was fucking going to kill Inoue. When she got back home, she was going to tie the blonde up on a stake, hoist her above a crackling fire, and slowly barbeque her friend. Friend? Inoue was most certainly no friend, not anymore! It was all thanks to the other female that she was now caught in this hellhole. Why did she have to pick a guy, out of all people, who happened to live in the same block of apartments that Kurosaki-sensei lived in?
Slowly Rukia backed away, her feet taking a step back with every step that Ichigo Kurosaki took towards her. It didn't help that he practically loomed over her. His dark amber eyes were gleaming- his lips were quirked, and he looked very much like a predator approaching its prey.
And then Rukia's thin back hit the wall of the lift behind her.
Great.
"So, Miss Kuchiki," he said amusedly, eyes still gleaming underneath the fluorescent light as he casually tucked his letters into the pocket of his trench coat, "It looks like someone skipped detention today, didn't she? And it seems she's come all the way here to see me about it."
She shot a frantic look at the closed lift doors behind them. Shit- there was no chance that she could make her way past Kurosaki's tall and much larger physique, and make a dash out of her prison that was the lift. She had been an idiot to run here to escape. It was a steadily hopeless situation, and she knew it. He knew it, too. He knew it all too well.
Had he seen her the very moment he had been by the mailbox? Something intuitive within her, only she wasn't exactly sure what, told her he had. He had seen her, and he had played with his food by letting it think it could flee, before crushing its escape route at the very last minute. Sadistic, horrible bastard, she thought.
"So I skipped detention," Rukia taunted coolly, not letting her inner discomfort show. "Well, too bad, too sad. What are you gonna do about it, report me to the police?"
Instead of looking annoyed, a small, diabolical smirk played about Ichigo's mouth. She wanted so much to punch him.
"I don't know yet, actually," he said amiably. "But it looks like we're about to find out now, hmm?"
She flinched as a large, masculine hand reached out and rested mockingly on the lift wall beside her, near her dark head. What was he doing? This wasn't professional at all. Surely he would never do this to any of the other schoolgirls in the school- pin them against the wall, and torture them. She was sure that even if they skipped his detention –fat chance of that happening though, they would much rather swallow a sock than miss out a detention all alone with him- he wouldn't treat them like this.
Did he hate her so much?
Rukia glared bravely. "I'm not afraid of you."
He laughed, and she tensed, not knowing what to feel at the throaty, rich deep noise reverberating from his throat.
"Of course you're not, Kuchiki Rukia," Kurosaki-sensei said pointedly, orange strands of hair falling over his face. "Which is why you ran here into the lift the moment you saw me just now."
So she was right. The jerk had seen her.
"That wasn't because I was scared of you!" Rukia yelled back, her delicate features contorted with a mix of indignation and embarrassment underneath her large glasses. Who was afraid of the fool, anyway? Not her, that was for sure. "It was because I didn't want to see your ugly face any longer than I already have to in school!"
She was crossing a small line here, and she knew it. They could be at loggerheads with each other all day if they wanted, but all in all he was still her teacher, and she his student. Nothing was going to change that. There was still a small semblance of respect she at least needed to show him- or else he could easily fail her or even hand her over to the principal.
Crap. Rukia inwardly winced the moment her rude words impulsively left her mouth. If he disliked her before, he definitely hated her now.
His eyebrow arched. "My ugly face, huh?" He inquired. She half-expected him to throw it all back to her- taunt her Plain-Jane appearance, and how she was the only girl in school who dressed so appallingly- but instead the next words that came arrogantly out of his lips were, "Too bad then. You'll still have to see this face every day for the rest of your life until I agree to pass you. Which won't be too soon, since your current grades don't look too promising, I'm afraid."
Rukia stared daggers at him. "Are you threatening to fail me because I skipped your detention?"
"Detention?" He echoed amusedly, large hand sliding closer across the wall towards her small face. "My dear Miss Kuchiki, detention or not, you're still not doing well enough in Maths to pass, I assure you."
She flushed. "It's because you can't teach!"
"Or it might be because you can't seem to pay proper attention in class," he countered flatly. "And even worse than that- you refuse to stay back after class to take extra remedial lessons with me despite your poor grades."
Rukia stuck out her tongue. "Who would want to stay back with you?"
He looked darkly amused at her childishness- his smothering gold eyes narrowing. "You might want to reconsider that, or you'll be spending another two years in class with me, retaking Maths, and doing Advanced Physics."
"I won't be taking Advanced Physics until the year after the next, stupid-", she paused abruptly, as a terrible realization washed over her mind. Large eyes widened disbelievingly. "Wait. You- you teach that?"
His smile was broadening. "It looks like my ugly face and yourself will be in acquaintance for quite some time, don't you agree?"
Rukia's heart-shaped face was as crimson as a tomato now, partly because she was livid, and another part because she was feeling utterly humiliated. She badly wanted to pull out her fist and lay a huge one on his face, and hopefully wipe away that cocky look on his annoyingly perfect features. The female was in the midst of genuinely considering it, when the lift doors abruptly opened behind them, revealing an old lady, who was carrying an umbrella. Her wrinkled eyes widened at the sight before her.
Uh oh, Rukia thought. No, no, no.
"Oh!" The elderly lady exclaimed, taking in the tall, orange-haired man, his powerful arms outstretched on either side of the smaller woman with his hands pinned against the elevator wall. Easily the old woman could make out the flushed, reddened face of the smaller female caged in his arms, and she backed off at once, umbrella swinging.
"Wait!" Rukia called desperately, but the old lady was already moving away.
"So sorry, dearies," she responded, waving her umbrella at them and turning away hastily. "You young passionate people have fun, now. I'll take the other lift."
The elevator doors closed once more, concealing the retreating old woman.
There was a short, heavy silence. And then-
"I hate you!" Rukia shouted, glaring at her teacher, before ducking in a flash out of his arms and backing away to another corner in the lift with a swiftness she didn't know she had. "Did you see what happened? It's all thanks to you she misunderstood!"
Kurosaki Ichigo didn't seem to look too perturbed; he was watching with an entertained air as she continued backing away from him to no avail against the unrelenting corner, his orange head tilted to one side. "And what, specifically," he drawled languorously, "did she misunderstand?"
"Hello!" Rukia barked. "She thought we were-"
He was on her in less than a second, his dexterous calloused fingers lifting her small chin and bringing her little face closer to his own. She was instantly paralysed, the remaining words caught in her throat, unable to escape. If Rukia had been swift just now, then he was faster. The husky scent of his masculine cologne drifted to her nose.
Ugly? His face? Who was she kidding? Rukia's face was so close to his now that she could practically count every dark eyelash framing his slanted, dark golden eyes. She could also easily take in the high cheekbones, and the vivid, sensual curve of his pale lips as he leaned nearer towards her. He was staring so intently at her now that she wondered if he could read every inch of the secrets in her mind- that to her he wasn't ugly at all, and that that was the very problem with him-
-That he was so fucking beautiful that she absolutely hated it, hated it that a man could look that way-
"She thought we were," Kurosaki murmured, "what, exactly?"
She took a sharp intake of breath.
Rukia had always thought herself as brave. Once, a long time ago, she had been hiking in a small forest, and had accidentally stepped on a wasps' nest. The frightening insects had swarmed out almost at once, and all the woman did in response was to stay still, looking rather bored as she did so, while the wasps flew to her. By the end of the day, she'd gotten about two or three stings, and she hadn't really cared.
Just don't move, and it'll be fine, she remembered thinking.
Well, she couldn't not move now. She just couldn't, not with the long finger cradling her chin and the sultry baritone against her ear. Rukia Kuchiki was scared. A million wasps' nests were less intimidating than this, and suddenly she didn't feel brave at all. Without hesitation, she brought both hands to the hardness that was Ichigo's chest, and pushed. Looking a little shocked, he released her, and she seized the chance to slam her hand against the lift button, before practically squeezing through the doors before they'd even fully opened in response. And then- she had bolted, not daring to look behind.
He hadn't stopped her.
She ran on, ignoring the sounds of masculine laughter ringing in her sensitive ears.
Moonlight streamed into the bedroom.
The room was entirely dark due to the evening, and Rukia sat alone on her bed, her head lowered slightly as she, very quietly, removed her massive glasses and placed them on her bed stand. And then she had reached up for the messy bun on the back of her head, and pulled at the small clip, letting the dark tresses fall loose over her small shoulders
Inoue was probably still in the living room, she ruminated. The busty woman had demanded to know what was going on when Rukia had returned home completely out of breath and looking so very flustered. The dark-haired girl hadn't even bothered to reply her, but had dashed straightaway into the refuge of her bedroom. She hadn't left it for the rest of the day, not even when Inoue had knocked on the door, asking again what had happened.
She had sat on her bed, barely moving while slowly collecting herself until she was calm once more, before simply considering things for a while. It had taken a whole afternoon to think, and now, she finally had come to a decision.
"Rukia?" A soft whisper, by the door. Inoue was there again, but this time, Rukia was fine with it. "Have you made up your mind?"
"Yes. I think I have," she replied.
She rose from the bed at last, stretching luxuriantly, and vividly the outline of small inky wings fluttered delicately in the moonlight. With a slender, black-nailed hand Rukia pressed against her full-length mirror, looking silently at the ethereal woman standing before her. Dark, smooth leather clung tightly to her curvy figure from below her collarbone, delineating her small but full breasts as well as her tiny waist. She stood, the shadowy texture of the cloth a harsh contrast to her milky white skin.
Dark scarlet lips parted into a coy smile, as long ebony lashes lowered over glittering violet.
I shall have you tonight… Kurosaki-sensei.
Let's just see how tasty you are.