Title: Many-Coloured Stardust
Character: Kuchiki Rukia
Pairing: Kuchiki Rukia x Kurosaki Ichigo
Rating: PG
Prompt: Midsummer's Night
Warnings: Not many spoilers at all
Summary: Sometimes the hardest things to say turn out to be the easiest decisions we ever make.

Carefully levering the wooden sole of her zori against the polished iron rung of the ladder, Rukia gritted her teeth as she tightened small fingers on the sides. It wasn't the ladder's fault, but she was beginning to develop a definite hatred for the metal contraption that had little to do with it's existence and more to do with the abject impossibility of climbing up it easily when one was dressed in a yukata and sandals. Sliding her foot up and onto the rung, she counted mentally and managed two more before her head rose above the edge of the rooftop. Glancing around, she scowled at the figure sprawled on his back on the rooftop as her frustrations easily transferred to his orange-haired person.

Idiot. If he didn't insist on sitting on the damned roof to watch fireworks instead of just going up to the top of the hill overlooking Karakura like a normal person then she wouldn't be stuck here trying to climb a ladder in such cumbersome clothing. Nevermind that he hadn't asked her to come up on the roof with him or that she could have just as easily gone with the rest of the Kurosaki clan down to the festival itself and watched fireworks on a hill instead.

Glancing back down behind her and pondering just how she was going to get her leg up and over the edge of the roof while still managing to remain decent -- yukata weren't always known for staying closed, especially not when their wearers decided to belly-crawl up over the edge of a roof -- the sudden darkening of a shadow overhead drew her attention. Looking up, she found herself staring up at Ichigo's brown-eyed face where he stood at the edge of the roof, looking down at her with a slightly amused look on his face. Hooking thumbs into his dark brown patterned obi, he raised an eyebrow in a smirk that she decided she'd wipe off his face if she only could reach it.

"Got a problem?"

Dumbass, of course she had a problem, his roof was too damned high and she wasn't about to rip the yukata she'd taken the trouble to find or flash anyone who happened to be in the area. Glaring at him, she gritted her teeth and gave herself another hoist -- that proved to be entirely ineffective at getting herself up and over the edge.

"No, I don't have a problem, now shut up and help me up, you oaf."

His smirk didn't go away -- if anything it got wider -- but at least he did step forward and stoop down, one hand wrapping around her cloth-covered forearm to hoist her up as though she hardly weighed anything. It might have been a considerate, even a nice gesture had he not deposited her unceremoniously in a heap on the tiles rather than on her feet. Scrambling up and wrapping the tattered shreds of her dignity around her, she levered a wooden sole against his shin, grinning inwardly at the satisfying reaction of his muffled curse and the hopping way he got out of her immediate vicinity.

Stalking past him and over to where the little ceramic tray of snacks sat barely touched in the evening light, she plopped down on the eave of the roof and stretched legs out in front of her before picking up a stick of dango. Pulling off one of the sticky orbs with her teeth, she chewed thoughtfully, watching the flickering lanterns come on over the city streets as the sky darkened further. Ichigo's muttering voice threaded through the muted sounds of gaiety as he made his way back over to his purloined spot and --wisely, seeing as he probably didn't want to get kicked again. Damned wooden shoes -- settled down on the other side of the snack tray and snagged a slice of seared daikon. Crunching on the browned slice of vegetable, he glanced over at her.

"Why aren't you out with everyone else?"

It was a straightforward enough question, especially seeing as he really had no idea why she hadn't gone out carousing with the rest of his family, that seemed more her sort of thing. Personally, as far as the festivities were concerned, he could take it or leave it. Not that the goings-on weren't enjoyable. He'd already spent a few hours being dragged around the city by Yuzu, enduring his father's idiocy, and while that in and of itself was NOT what he would have called fun, he couldn't deny that it had been a bit nice to be able to make his little sister smile. The food was alright too, and he'd run into several people from school, but he could only handle so much 'togetherness' before everyone started to grate on his nerves. Thus the tactful retreat back onto the rooftops. He could still see the fireworks, and enjoy some of the food.

Just... in peace, something that he couldn't get if his family was around.

Honestly... he couldn't deny that there was a portion of himself that was glad she was there, that actually wanted her to be there. Or at least, he couldn't deny it to the interior of his mind despite the fact that he would deny it to anything else. Things just... made sense when Rukia was around, they fell into place naturally as though she were some internal stabilizing factor to his entire world. It didn't really make much sense to him, but then neither was he the sort of person to spend hours sitting there pondering the intricacies of such things. They just were, and that was good enough for him most of the time.

Munching thoughtfully on her dango, Rukia shrugged her shoulders. It wasn't so much that his question had caught her unawares so much as she had realized that she really didn't know the answer to it. Sure, there was the whole point that she'd wanted to see the fireworks, but she could have just as easily gone with anyone else. Chewing on her lower lip slightly -- there was no way she could admit to him that she'd chosen to seek out his company on purpose -- she pulled the last sweet off the stick and set the bit of wood aside.
"I like watching them from the rooftops. It's... nostalgic, in a way."

He grunted in response, partly because he had his mouth full and partially to disguise the sudden interest her words had sparked. Nostalgic? So that meant there'd been festivals in Soul Society too, though he mentally kicked himself for the sudden epiphany. Of course there had to have been festivals in Soul Society, otherwise there wouldn't have been any need for Shiba Kuukaku's cannon, or for the fireworks that it seemed like the entire Shiba family helped to make. Fireworkds didn't make sense if there wasn't a festival to shoot them off at. But it wasn't really interest in the fireworks themselves, but more an interest in Rukia that was tugging at his attention. The shinigami kept much to herself, despite how close they were, and he respected that. Still, it was so rare for her to open up that he couldn't help prodding her about it a bit.

"So there's festivals in Soul Society too, then?"

It was a measured response, just disinterested enough to seem like a casual, almost requisite reply to her statement. Taking another bite of the daikon, he picked up a stick of takoyaki and handed it to her. She took the snack with a nod of thanks, pulling her cotton-covered knees up to her chest before taking a bite and shaking her head.

"Not the way you're thinking of."

Scowling slightly, he finished the daikon and snagged his own box of takoyaki. The hell did she mean by that, a festival was a festival, wasn't it? At least, that was his opinion on it, his opinion which he passed on in a rather irritated tone of voice. All it got him was her elbow impacting solidly with his ribs, nearly knocking the wind out of him as the petite girl glared at him before resuming her eating.

"That's not what I meant, idiot. There are festivals in Seireitei."

He caught the emphasis on the word, and finished the sentence beletedly for her a moment later.

"But... not in Rukongai."

Her nod confirmed it, and the pieces began to fit together a little bit more. He'd been there, been to Soul Society and seen the way the shinigami guarded their own little island of sanctity in the center of that world, shielding it from the normal denizens of Rukongai like greedy mice hoarding cheese. It made him clench his fists when he thought about all the people, normal people, living that sort of life, unable to do something so simple as enjoy a festival. He gritted his teeth as Rukia continued, hands cupped around an apple in her lap as she watched the stars begin to come out overhead.

"No, not in Rukongai. The Shiba clan would make sparklers for the children in their district, and there were some nights were we would all gather to watch them shoot off fireworks for us to enjoy, but that was all we had. But... it wasn't all bad. On nights when we knew there was a festival, we'd climb up onto the rooftops and watch what we could over the walls. The fireworks were the best part. Even if we couldn't take part in the festival, we could still enjoy them."

She broke off as the first bang split the air, sending a shower of multicoloured sparks soaring through the air in a cascade of glittering light, eyes turning skyward as her face lit up in enjoyment. Fireworks were a special treat for her, having lived in a portion of Rukongai too far removed from the Shiba's fireworks factory for any of them to take part in the festivities that family took such pains to create for the children in the area. Clapping her hands in front of her in childish glee, she watched as the rainbow of stars exploded overhead.

Her sudden laughter caught him off-guard, sending a rush of colour to his cheeks as he watched her expression change to one of rapt wonder. He'd almost never seen Rukia like that, so unguarded and open, freed of all the burdens she seemed to carry, burdens that -- would she share them with him -- he'd gladly help her carry. That thought in and of itself was almost as disconcerting as the sudden urge to slip an arm around her waist and pull her against him. Swiftly averting his attention back to the fireworks overhead, he admonished his misbehaving subconscious, pushing those thoughts back where they belonged. It didn't do him any good to let them out again, there wasn't anything that would ever come from it.

Sighing, he leaned his head back slightly, mulling over those same thoughts as he carefully tugged them back out of the cobwebs of his mind -- cautiously making sure they stayed as just thoughts -- and turning them over in his head. Ichigo wasn't stupid, nor was he naive enough to not have realized how his feelings for his small companion had changed over the course of their time together. It hadn't been a long process in and of itself, it had been the realizing that had taken awhile. The realizing and beyond that, the acceptance.

But where realization had been hard, and acceptance even harder, by far the most difficult thing had been the ignoring. The teeth-gritting realization that regardless of his own feelings, regardless of what he might have -- begrudgingly, at least to himself -- wanted, he couldn't act on it. She didn't feel the same, didn't see him the way he saw her. To her, he was just a kid. Just her friend, her partner for the hunt. And even beyond that, they were so different. He human, she shinigami. When this was all over -- whatever 'this' was -- she'd leave, abandon him and go back to Soul Society. Where she belonged.

The thought soured his mind -- it was her opinion, not his. As far as he was concerned, she belonged here and damn anyone that tried to say different -- because he knew that if it came down to it, this was one fight he likely couldn't win. Because, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew perfectly well that he couldn't fight her. And not just physically, but on any front. No matter what he wanted, he couldn't force her to stay if she really didn't want to. So he would just keep it to himself. Easier that way, keep it hidden and avoid the inevitable hurt that was bound to follow any revelations he could share with her. He supposed it was bitter comfort to know that at least when the time came and she left, she'd have Renji. He knew the redhead adored Rukia, would give his life and more to keep her safe and happy -- just as he would, that snide portion of his brain commented -- but it didn't make the idea of her and the tattooed shinigami together any easier to swallow.

"Ichigo, look! That one's purple!"

Her gleeful exclamation didn't distract him as much as the sudden tightness of her arm around his as she looped one smaller appendage around his elbow with a squeeze, pointing the other hand heavenward as yet another morter exploded overhead to rain indigo-hued sparks over Karakura. She was right, it was purple, almost exactly the same shade as her eyes. At least, that was what his brain helpfully -- helpful to what, he couldn't say, it certainly wasn't being helpful in regards to his determination NOT to do something he'd undoubtably regret -- pointed out to him as he felt the lump rise up into his throat again. Swallowing past it he simply nodded, thankful that she was too engrossed in watching the multicoloured explosions to notice the way he couldn't tear his eyes off of her.

He'd never denied -- at least to himself, when he wasn't feeling contrary -- that he found Rukia attractive. Sure, she wasn't tall and lithe, and she didn't really have much in the way of curves to speak of, but... he liked her that way. He liked how tiny she was, how she could somehow still manage to make him feel like a little kid being scolded even when she was yelling up at him from the nearly foot difference in their heights. He liked how she was so slender, with just a hint of curves to her small frame. The way her hair looked so soft, how despite the light breeze in the evening dusk, that one errant lock of hair still managed to find it's way into the center of her forehead. To him, Rukia was just... well, she was Rukia. He wasn't one for fancy words or any of that mushy crap to describe how she looked right now, sitting there with her hair pinned up at the back of her head with the violet-flowered clip, or how the shade of pale lavender-blue of her yukata turned her eyes a deep violet in contrast. If he'd had to, about the best he could probably have managed would be that she looked "ok".

Which would have gotten him punched or something. Girls were weird like that. Either way, it was a moot point, seeing as nothing would ever come of it anyway. At least, that's what he kept telling himself as a means to distract his mind -- among other parts -- from the disturbingly enjoyable feeling of her torso pressed against his arm, the faintest impression of her head against his shoulder. At least he couldn't automatically -- because that's what it would have been, just a natural reaction -- slip his arm around her waist or shoulder when she had it in a death grip like that.

"..Thank you."

Her quiet words drew him out of his inner musings as he turned to look at her smaller form, his arm still hooked into hers as she leaned against his side, her dark eyes still trained on the fireworks overhead. He wasn't really sure exactly what she was thanking him for, and he told her as much as he looked down at her. Rukia smiled slightly with a shrug, turning to look up at him. It wasn't as though he understood, as though he knew how she felt, how much she wished she could stay like this, stay with all their friends, with the family that treated her as one of their own. With him. Truthfully, there was so much she was grateful for, so many things she wanted to thank him over. He'd been the one to bring all those things to her, the reason why she now felt so saddened whenever she was reminded of the fact that one day -- and likely sooner, rather than later -- she'd have to leave. Managing a whistful smile at him, she shook her head slightly.

"For... a lot of things, I guess. I'm just.... glad that I met you, is all. So I'm thanking you for that."

He bit the inside of his lip, not only at her words but at the look on her face. He knew that look, had seen her make it before and knew it for what it was; her reminding herself -- indoctrinating, he'd have said -- of the "fact" that she couldn't stay here, that she had to leave one day. Bullshit, as far as he was concerned, and it made him angry that she couldn't just accept that she didn't belong there, she belonged here, no matter what her stick-up-the-ass brother or anyone else said or thought. But even beyond the sudden shaft of anger at the way she'd let herself be so convinced that those bastards were right, what bothered -- and startled, seeing as he'd never expected to feel it -- him more was the abrupt rush of what he could only describe as fear. Fear that she would leave, that she'd run away in the middle of the night, gone as quickly and as much without warning as she'd come into his life and he'd be left nursing the ragged, empty hole that he knew without a shadow of a doubt would be left behind once her presence was gone.

That fear was -- as far as he knew, especially seeing as he didn't really think about it beforehand -- the reason why, almost before he even realized what he was doing, he found himself turning slightly, the arm that wasn't sandwiched between her arms coming around as he raised his hand and caught her cheek, turning her face towards his to cover her mouth with his own for a lingering few seconds. Pulling back slightly as the sheer fact of what he'd just done began to sink in, he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes with a single whispered phrase.

"Don't leave...."

Of all the things she could have expected to happen, Rukia had to admit that this one was definitely not on her list of likely possibilities. Sure, she wasn't going to deny that it had been a fantasy -- hell, even a hope on some levels -- but it had definitely made it's way squarely to the list in her mind that was marked "snowball's chance in hell". She didn't really know what the phrase meant, but she'd heard it used enough times by various people to gather that it had something to do with things that were about as likely to happen as oh, say... Zaraki-taichou deciding to give up fighting. She froze as his lips pressed against hers, resisting the urge to just give in and relax and enjoy it. She couldn't enjoy it, if she did it would just make it all the more difficult when she did have to leave, but her body just wouldn't obey her as she felt herself leaning into it, eyelids slipping closed and mouth relaxing against his. The warmth shifted as he pulled back, still close enough for her to feel his breath soft on her face, his forehead pressed against hers.

Sighing, she felt something inside herself break down at his words, at the faint note of pleading in her voice and she knew without a doubt that it was a losing battle. That when it came down to it, no matter what she told herself, no matter what she knew had to be true, she would stay. For him. Reaching a hand up to cover his larger palm where it rested against her face, she simply nodded.

"I'll stay, Ichigo. I'll stay...."