Summary: Ichigo wonders just who Rukia sees when she looks at him. Whether it's truly him she sees or if she's looking through him into her past.
A/N: Surprise update! Don't get used to it... Would you believe I've had this one on my computer since Oct.? I didn't like it, so I didn't post. After a while I forgot about it, and then something reminded me. Fixed a few things, so here it is. Cheers!
Again, thanks to everyone who put this on their fav. list, author/story alerts, and most especially to everyone who left a review on what worked, etc:
Jiru sama (somehow ffn didn't let me add you last time), Vera Rozalsky, chocobojockey16, Poofa, curio cherry, amehoshi141, LunaBianca, sallythedestroyerofworlds23, Mokimoki-chan, Lunacat13, Wheatieluv, Estella May (thanks for the translations), Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro
Timeline: End of SS arc.
Warnings: None!
Standard Disclaimer: Bleach is solely the property of Kubo Tite, and I am merely borrowing his playground.
He's seen the picture of that man in a shrine at the Shibas, and the resemblance is startling. It was as if they were long lost brothers. It's strange to know that a dead man wore almost the same face as he does, and even stranger still that Rukia never says a word about it. He wonders whether Rukia sees him as himself, or whether she sees someone else when she looks upon him.
One afternoon while they are still in Soul Society, in his usual tactless fashion, he broaches the subject with her.
"Who was he?" he asks as they're sitting on the rooftops of the Thirteenth division overlooking the training quad.
She turns to him with a puzzled look. "Who?"
"That guy, that everyone says I look like," Ichigo says, with his characteristic scowl planted firmly on his face. He looks straight ahead, pretends to be bored, but furtively he looks at her from the corner of his eye.
Her whole body stiffens, but just slightly, and if he hadn't been watching her so closely, if he hadn't gotten to know her as he did, he might have missed the sudden tightness of her shoulders as they pulled inward toward her body, the slight tremor that ran through her.
"Kaien...dono," Rukia says so softly that he finds himself leaning toward her to catch the sound. She whispers his name as if it pains her to say it, and her gaze is directed at the ground, looking through it and into memories full of blood and rain.
Ichigo clears his throat, and her eyes snap to his, and for one moment, he is ensnared in the anguish within her, and then Rukia blinks and suddenly he can't read her and she looks up at him with the most un-Rukia like placid expression that he had ever seen on her face. He decides he doesn't like it.
"You don't have to say anything...if you don't want to. But if or when you want to...I'll listen," he says shrugging, trying to repeat the words that she told him in what seemed like a lifetime ago. He realizes, with an internal wince how less eloquent he sounds. He wants to tell her that he'll be there for her, to listen to her whenever she feels ready to confide in him. That he'll hold whatever she tells him in strictest confidence, because he too, carries memories of blood and rain. He wants to tell her that she can count on him. But he's still young and he hasn't the words to adequately convey how he feels. Ichigo thinks he should really work on his delivery.
When he chances a sideways glance at her, the look she gives him is soft, less the anguish and more...something. Something unreadable, mysterious, and intriguing. He decides he likes it.
"Kaien-dono was my mentor...vice-captain of the Thirteenth. Everyone in our squad loved him..." she says trailing off.
And I killed him. Ichigo finishes for her in his mind. He knows at least this much. He waits but she says nothing more. For now, this is all she is willing to tell him, and he's grateful, but his mind is still full of questions. Questions he will NOT ask. He won't do that to her. She, like he, values personal privacy and he respects that. He respects that she will not track mud and dirt into his heart and he is determined to do the same.
She glances over at him, favors him with yet another unreadable expression in her eyes. "There is some resemblance," she says faintly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. Her eyes, half-shuttered under long sooty lashes, roam his face, mapping out the differences, or worst yet, the similarities.
"I'm not him," he says, steadily holding her gaze, feeling as if he should make that clear. Whatever or whoever Kaien was to Rukia, Ichigo wants to clarify that he isn't him. He has never wanted to stand out for his differences; from his oddly colored hair to his ability to see ghosts, those differences have brought him nothing but grief. But for some reason...just this once he wants to stand out as someone unforgettable and unique. The singular distinction he wants to make is important somehow, though it's difficult to explain why.
Rukia makes an exasperated noise in the back of her throat, but in her eyes, he sees quiet understanding. In her bossiest and most assertive voice, she says loudly, "Of course. You're nothing like him. Kaien was Kaien. Ichigo, you are you."
And just like that, the uneasiness in him has disappeared. He sits there quietly, just looking at her.
She has this mischievous expression on her face. He decides he likes this too, even as it makes him wary. It gives him a strange anticipatory feeling in his gut.
"You'll always be Ichigo to me," she says, finally looking off into the distant horizon. There's an undercurrent of some deep emotion running through her low voice. "Foolish Ichigo..."
"Rukia..." his eyebrow twitches in annoyance. The teasing edge in her voice takes away any sting the insults might have had.
"...stingy, rude, reckless... just stupid enough to rescue someone who said they didn't want to be rescued, and not smart enough to run away when he's told. She looks directly at him, meets his gaze with her own. There's gratitude there, and guilt, and a whole host of other emotions that flicker behind her eyes too quickly for him to catch.
"Do you always thank your saviors by insulting them?" he grouses.
"Who says I'm trying to thank you?" she scoffs crossing her arms.
Ichigo huffs and decides to ignore her, but it's hard when there is such an impish glint in her eyes.
"You really are an idiot you know," she says softly. This time there is no mistaking the undercurrent of affection in her soft husky voice. "You could have died. I bet the thought never even crossed your thick skull."
"But I didn't," he drawls, chin jutting out stubbornly. "So you can just shut it," he adds, rubbing his hand through her hair.
"Don't get so cocky!" she says, planting an elbow in his side.
The usual bickering ensues, interspersed with sporadic bits of warm, fond violence. Rukia is not quite laughing, but there is a smile on her face. Ichigo decides he likes this most of all.