Just a Number
Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
Ichigo's steady heartbeat filled my head as it did every morning, my head resting on his chest as he held me close. Every morning I woke up first and, having long ago realized there was no way to extract myself from his grip without waking him up, lay listening to his heartbeat and rhythmic breathing. It wasn't as though I had anything to do, seeing as I was relegated to Gotei 13 until the Soul Society could press charges against Aizen.
Suddenly my pillow stirred and the arms around me loosened. I took full advantage of this, wiggling out and kneeling next to him, kissing his eyelids till he opened them. His sleepy brown gaze met my own electric green one, a scowl already on his lips in spite of the happiness in his eyes.
"What time is it?" he asked, voice groggy.
"Seven thirty. You know I don't let you sleep in," I replied, rolling over and peering up at him as he stood and stretched. My gaze stayed on him as he went through his morning routine, relishing that I had nowhere to be and would probably go back to sleep after he'd left for work. Not that I was particularly lazy, but after all that had happened, I was ready for a break.
"It's been a week. The black is getting a bit ridiculous," I pointed out as he emerged from the bathroom ready to go to the clinic, wearing all black as he had since the Soul Society had announced they had killed me. To add realism, he said, since Aizen had known we were involved.
"I'd wear black forever if you died," he said seriously, coming over to kiss my forehead before looking into my eyes. "Clinic closes at seven, but I've got to stay for dinner. Watch switches at nine, so I'll be back some time after that."
Aizen had been watching several places he'd expect me to be, clearly not trusting the Soul Society's claim. He had several places under constant vigilance, but unbeknownst to him, the Soul Society not only knew this but where they were stationed and when the guard shifted. As soon as this guard was lifted, we could assume he had accepted my death and then swoop in while he was still regrouping to press charges. Until then, though, I had to remain hidden and Ichigo had to mourn my "death." His father helped the realism, having believed his son's story that I'd been in a car wreck and responding by swathing the entire clinic in black to lament the death of its benefactor.
Stealing one last kiss goodbye, he left, reminding me to be nice to the Soul Reapers. Everyone was fascinated in me, and understandably so, but they quickly discovered I talked to no one but Ichigo. What they didn't know, however, was that many of my afternoons were spent with Rukia Kuchiki, who I often liked. She could be as loud and unruly as Abarai (who I was less fond of), but most of the time she was quite civilized. Moreover, she was a wealth of information about the Soul Society and ever-ready to answer my questions, not to mention she broke up the solitude of the long wait for Ichigo to come back from work.
A sharp knock and soft call of "Ulquiorra?" at my door startled me into getting up and opening the door to see the very subject of my thoughts, Rukia, already dressed in her Shinigami (I had learned this other word for Soul Reapers right away) robes and holding a bento box wrapped in a scarf.
"Hello. I thought we'd have breakfast this morning." She broke off, seeing I was still in my pajamas. "Is Ichigo still here?"
I shook my head, letting her in to the small room. She smiled softly, sitting down gently in the chair by the door that Ichigo had sat in my first night there. Understanding her intent of a picnic, I set about getting dressed as she talked to me through the bathroom door.
"Nii-sama doesn't like that I spend time with you, probably because you were with Aizen. If he got to know you, though, he'd realize how similar you two are. You're a much better influence then Renji and Ichigo," she was saying as I emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed.
"Your brother is a captain."
"Yeah, but most of the other captains have accepted you," she reminded me, standing and leading the way out the door and down the hall to the bar. Several others were there, sitting in their small cliques (Rukia called them "squads"), but they ignored us, having grown used to my presence.
"How many captains are there?" I asked as we sat at one of the booths and Rukia set up the meal.
"One for each squad, so thirteen. Nii-sama is captain of the sixth squad." She paused, finishing setting out the meal before continuing. "Each squad also has a lieutenant and several seats. Though all thirteen of them are sort-of unnecessary now, we keep them out of tradition."
"How old is the Soul Society?" I asked, thinking of the odd outfits and swords the members wore.
"At least 500 years, though I think more. Our golden age was during the Warring States Period when we were basically the only stable form of government. Now we mostly just keep an eye out for guys like Aizen," she explained, smiling at me before showing me a doodle she'd drawn while telling me the history. I think it was of a shinigami-bunny fighting another bunny that looked suspiciously like Aizen, but it was so poorly drawn it was hard to tell.
"I've got a question for you," she said, setting her picture aside with care. "What do you plan to do after Aizen's gone?"
To be honest, I didn't know how to answer it. I'd been thinking about it for a week, ever since that first night when I found out the Soul Society had accepted me. Of all the problems racing around in my head, this was the one troubling me the most—where would my place be after Aizen was gone? There was always the Soul Society, but something didn't feel right about it. My mind drifted to where I refused to let it go; my hopes for a normal life. How could such a thing happen for me? I hadn't breathed a word of my ridiculous desires to Ichigo, afraid after our conversation that night. I hadn't gotten strong vibes that he felt the same way as me, and even if he did, such a thing would hardly be possible. Japan wasn't exactly accepting of our lifestyle, much less of us having children. It would be understandable for Ichigo to not want to deal with that for the rest of his life. But still, the question remained as to what I would do.
"I'm not sure," I answered at last, a heavy weight in my chest. I hated not knowing, and I hated the prospect that Ichigo might not be there to help me work it out.
"Well, you're always welcome here, you know," she pointed out, popping a piece of egg in her mouth. I simply nodded, listening as she chatted about something, trying to push thoughts of the future out of my head. Unfortunately, the future has a nasty way of becoming the present, and I couldn't hold it off forever. I had to talk to him.
That night at exactly 9:15 I heard a light tap at my door before Ichigo let himself in. I looked up briefly from where I was curled against the headboard before going back to my book. You need to talk to him, I told myself. Soon they'll be pressing charges and you have to know what you're going to do after that.
"Hey," he said, sitting beside me. He smelt like the clinic and rain. I hadn't been outside for a week, so I had no idea what the weather was like. Quit thinking about the weather. Talk to him!
"How was your day?" he ventured, sensing my tense mood.
"Fine," I answered shortly, turning the page.
"A guy came into the clinic today that'd had a lobotomy back in '61. That's kind-of cool," he tried again.
"Yes." We sat in silence for a moment, Ichigo seeming to be figuring out his next attack as I pretended to read. Suddenly he snatched my book away.
"Ichigo," I said reproachfully, fixing him with a glare.
"Don't do this with me. I expect you to be an ass hole to everyone else, but not to me. Did something happen today?" he asked, a note of concern in his otherwise annoyed voice.
"No. I'm fine," I replied, taking my book back. Come on, you have to do it. "Saito called a few days ago." That got a reaction. Immediately a look of concern filled his face and he was bursting with questions.
"You didn't pick up, did you? Because they're probably watching her, too. Did she leave a message? Is the baby okay?"
"Of course I didn't answer," I cut across his babble. "And yes, she left a message. The baby's fine," I added quickly, forestalling more questions.
"Oh. Why'd she call then?"
"Just checking in, but she reminded me that the baby's due in a week." Ichigo sighed, realizing where I was going with this.
"I don't know if you'll be able to go out by then. We're working on getting the case together, but it takes time. Luckily the watchmen he's got posted are getting sloppy, a sure sign they don't really think they'll see anything. At this point, though, even if Aizen admits we've won we won't be able to get him in court for…another week, at least," he explained, his exhaustion over the whole thing evident. The entire Soul Society was buzzing with activity, all of it centered on prosecuting Aizen. Since Ichigo was integrally involved in this (it had been his assignment since before we had met) and still going to work as well as taking care of me on top of it all, he was stretched pretty thin.
"I understand." He gave me a small smile, an honest one like he he'd had in the cell and like he'd been giving me ever since. He was so honest and open with me, something I wasn't used to. And then it occurred to me why this usually guarded person was so open with me—he expected the same in return.
"Do you love me?" I suddenly asked, deciding to give him the blunt honesty he deserved. He seemed a bit caught off guard, both by what I had said and that I had spoken at all.
"Yes," he said after a moment, cautious. "Why?"
"Rukia asked me what I was going to do after Aizen was gone. I couldn't answer," I admitted, struggling to hide how much this worried me.
"You'll stay with me, of course," he said at once, still looking confused; confused as to why this wasn't obvious.
"But I'll have a child."
"So? Yuzu loves kids. And you don't need to get a job if you don't want to, right?" I shook my head dumbly, unable to believe it. He didn't even care that I'd have a baby, he wanted me anyway. Assumed, even, that I'd live with him and his family. It was so generous, so…loving; all I could do was smile, an unrestrained expression that I hadn't indulged in for a long time.
"I've never seen you smile like that," Ichigo whispered in awe. "You should do it more often."
"Perhaps…" I muttered, unable to wipe the smile away as I leaned in to kiss him. He responded eagerly, deepening it until we were both breathless and had to break apart. Silence fell as he looked into my eyes, soaking me in.
"Were you worried I'd leave you or something stupid like that?" he asked after a moment. I pulled away and grumpily went back to my book to hide my embarrassment.
"Of course not. I'd never be so foolish." He just chuckled, settling in and allowing me to snuggle up against him instead of the headboard.
"Really? Because it kind-of sounded like you were," he teased, leaning over to see what I was reading. It was some Shakespeare he'd lent to me. I didn't dignify that with a response, but he didn't seem to expect me to. Instead, we simply sat as we did every night, content in our silence.
***
Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
Slowly I opened my eyes as I woke up, comfortably nestled against Ichigo in our familiar tangle. I shifted slightly, jerking back violently as something cold and hard poked me in the side. Ichigo gasped a bit as he awoke with a start, startled eyes clouded with sleep searching for the disturbance.
"The hell?" he asked groggily, gently pushing me off and sitting up. I crawled under the covers in the direction of what had poked me, emerging holding my book from the night before.
"Just a book…" I showed it to him and he rolled his eyes, running his hands through his hair as he fell back on the pillows. As soon as he hit them he reached up and dragged me down with him, pulling me into a kiss. I straddled him, eager to respond as his hands tangled in my hair, drawing me closer as he captured my lips again and again. Blindly I ran my hands down his bare chest, feeling warm skin beneath my fingers as he deepened his kisses. I could feel him smirk as I moaned, yearning for even more contact. Just as his hands began to drift down to the waistband of my pajamas a sharp knock at the door interrupted us.
"Dammit," Ichigo mumbled as he crawled off the bed to open the door. Standing behind it was Abarai, looking no more pleased than Ichigo.
"Captain Ukitake wants t' see you two," he grumbled, gazing over Ichigo's shoulder at me sitting on the bed, still a bit ruffled. A small smirk replaced the grumpy frown on Abarai's face as he saw me staring impassively at him. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"
"No. Tell the old man we'll be there soon," Ichigo replied gruffly, though an almost un-noticeable blush had stained his cheeks at his friend's teasing. Rudely he slammed the door in the red-head's face, scowl now firmly in place.
"Hey, we should get ready," he said, turning to fish in his bag for some clean clothes. Sighing, I glanced at the odd assortment of clothes given to me since I'd gotten there. I hadn't exactly packed a bag when I'd left the mansion a week ago, seeing as I assumed I wouldn't be alive much longer, so Ichigo had lent me some of his. Unfortunately they were too big, so all I'd kept were the pajama pants, the rest of my wardrobe given to me by the much smaller Yumichika who waved away my thanks, explaining that "they're so last season anyway."
Ichigo and I dressed quickly and in silence. Though I'd been there a week, I'd met very few of the captains and had no desire to meet any more. They were the people who'd first condemned then saved me, all within 24 hours, so I wasn't exactly sure how to act towards them. Besides, they always wanted to talk, something I wasn't overly fond of anyhow. Ichigo gently placed a hand at the small of my back as we walked down the hall to a room I'd never been in before. This bit of contact was his silent reassurance, something that was much needed as we stepped into the room and were faced with several people all looking up at us.
"Uh…hey," Ichigo mumbled in greeting to the seven people staring at us. They were clustered around a table so covered in papers the finish of it couldn't be seen, all people I'd met or at least recognized. Closest to the door was Renji, grinning at us, tiny Rikichi beside him and Rukia after that. The sickly man with white hair who, I realized with a shock, had sentenced me to death was seated by her, but he didn't look remotely upset that I lived. Rather, he had a smile that rivaled Rukia's in gentleness. Next to him, however, was the couple I'd seen upon first entering the bar, the bald man next to the feminine man who'd given me the clothes… Ikkaku and Yumichika were their names, I recalled.
"Hello," the white-haired captain greeted us. "Please come in and shut the door. Wouldn't want any prying eyes, now, would we?" We did as he asked, taking the only remaining seats right by Yumichika.
"Hmm…" the effeminate man mumbled, looking me over. "It looked better on me." Ikkaku glanced over, giving an obviously expected grunt of agreement judging from the pointed look his partner gave him. The captain chuckled lightly before his expression became apologetic, eyes meeting mine.
"Ulquiorra, please let me apologize for my actions at the trial. You must understand I was acting in what I thought was the best interest of the Soul Society and community at large." A pregnant pause followed during which all eyes were on me, seeing if I'd forgive the captain.
"As would I," I said, inclining my head. The group seemed to sigh, relieved the tension had been resolved.
"Thank you," he said graciously before turning back to the group, all business. "Now, what you see before you is all the evidence we have on Sosuke Aizen," he paused, glancing at me, "and family. The addition of your contributions, Ulquiorra, has been immensely helpful while we put our case together, and now we are mostly waiting for the opportune moment to press charges. Still, there is room for improvement. As you understand how he thinks better than most anyone, we would be honored if you would overview our case." I nodded deftly, wishing to get this over with as soon as possible. This was why I'd come here, to help them; why did they even bother asking?
Silence fell as a file was handed to me and I read it over, and all else sunk into the evidence, determined to beat him, Aizen, my father.
Autor's note: hey, kinda a short chapter, but I wanted to get something out for whoever's reading this. I'm super un-inspired right now, so sorry if the next chapter doesn't come for a bit. Oh, and happy Valentine's day!