Hello Reader,
this one made me happy. and reminded me of just how much in need i am of medication.
well, i say trololol.
Kudos to Tite Kubo
Byakuya
It was something right out of a horror movie. For Byakuya, at least.
The night was darker than usual. Outside, the storm raged, pelting down rain heavily against the slated roof. Byakuya walked down the hall towards his room, a candle in hand. The meager glow of its flame was not enough for Byakuya to even see his own feet, but it would have to suffice. A bolt of lightning flashed, sending a sudden burst of brightness into the hall. Byakuya was not impressed and continued walking without a halt.
Just as he was about to slide his bedroom door open, however, a shuffling from Rukia's room made him stop and turn. The candle flickered, and shadows danced eerily against the wall. Byakuya was silent, straining to hear. Shuffling.
Clink.
"Rukia?" Byakuya asked, raising his candle. No reply.
A strong, overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over him, and in seconds, Byakuya was right outside Rukia's room. "Rukia?" he called out again, his voice a tad louder. Still no reply.
Byakuya instinctively raised his hand and placed it against Rukia's door. He froze. A chill went through his fingers and up his spine, making him shiver. Whatever was on the other side of this door was not good. And Rukia is in the room with it. Clenching his jaw, Byakuya slid the door open and stepped in. The candle, small as it was, was enough to lighten up the room for Byakuya to see.
"Rukia?" his breath came out as a cloud of icy fog.
Holding the candle in front of him, Byakuya surveyed the surroundings. Everything was in disarray. On one side, books lay scattered. Byakuya cocked his head to read the cover of the one nearest him.
Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.
On the other side, paint brushes and crayons lay on the floor. A bottle of ink was overturned.
That must have been the clinking earlier, Byakuya thought to himself.
A rustling noise from the floor caught his attention. He had stepped on something. Getting down on his knees, Byakuya set the candle beside him and gathered up pieces of paper, along with Rukia's sketchbook, which lay near. Upon tidying up the papers, Byakuya squinted to take a look at it.
What he saw made him hiss and back away with fright.
A bunny with a mop of shocking orange hair, black robes and a gigantic sword.
"Kurosaki," Byakuya whispered.
His hands shaking, Byakuya went through paper after paper and page after page of Rukia's sketchbook. The drawings became more horrifying with every turn.
A portrait of Ichigo.
Ichigo in his school uniform.
Ichigo standing on top of a roof against the moonlight.
Ichigo eating a sandwich under a tree with someone who was obviously Renji, given the brilliant red paint that was the subject's hair.
All of these illustrations were in bunny form, Rukia's trademark. The last one was the worst, and shook Byakuya the most.
A bunny, clearly Rukia, was perched on top of a tower, dressed in some vintage outfit. Below the tower, as if serenading her, was an Ichigo bunny, also in vintage attire, holding up a rose.
Byakuya's eyes, which were as wide as saucers, went from the drawing to the book right across the room.
It can't be.
The next morning, as they had breakfast together, Rukia told Byakuya of the wonderful book she had just read, which she'd borrowed from Ichigo. It was, in her own words, impossibly and beautifully romantic.