Wednesday, August 7, 2002

Ichigo turned at the sound to see Rukia's pajama top. She was standing in the doorway. His eyes moved up toward her face right as her expression shifted to one of marked concern and she was derailed from whatever it was she'd been about to say or do. "What did you do to yourself?" she demanded.

"Huh?" he asked, suddenly confused. He was abruptly aware of the blood on his hands. "Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Get in here," she commanded as she went to the sink.

He stood up and did as she asked without complaint. It was already not what he had expected. She peered at him suspiciously as he approached and he held up his hands to show the minor puncture wounds. "I'm telling you it's nothing," he repeated, "I just wasn't paying attention."

She gestured for him to hold his hands out and once he'd done so she engaged in what he knew to be healing kidō. He didn't object, and after half a minute she sternly said "Wash your face and hands. You should be ashamed for making me worry like that." She was already mortified at herself for having left him on his own like that; despite everything he was a young man and young men did stupid things when they were emotionally vulnerable and volatile. She was incredibly lucky he hadn't done something worse. It spoke to his maturity but it still left her cold.

Ichigo sighed but did as ordered, taking his time to make sure he cleaned all the blood off. He wasn't going to argue with her after what had happened.

She departed while he was busy and returned with some fresh sleeping clothes for him, setting them on the vanity beside the sink before retreating to the doorway as he finished. "You might as well shower and everything else while you're in here. I already split our clothes up for laundering, so put what you've got on in your bags, they're the ones on the right," she said, before shutting the door behind her.

He blinked and realized that they weren't done discussing things. He couldn't discern just what that might mean, but he reviewed what had just gone on and steeled himself for a second round as he went about his business. There would not be a repeat of what had just occurred.

As he exited the bathroom he found her sitting on the edge of her bed, considering Tokyo. He watched her for a second before making up his mind and sitting beside her. He kept his hands to himself and said nothing for awhile, likewise observing the city.

"We need to come to an understanding on what it is and isn't okay for us to do in combat in the future," Rukia said after a long time.

It wasn't what Ichigo would've started with, but he could see the logic. They'd never really agreed on how to conduct themselves on a battlefield, and the things each of them had said to one another and others over time didn't really make sense when added up. A lot of what they were discussing really hinged on their personal codes of conduct and ethics. It was why the earlier talk had blown up and it had to be addressed. He nodded slowly and was sure she'd see it in her peripheral vision.

There was silence for awhile before she stated "I once told Inoue that 'In a battle, the ones who get in the way are not the ones that lack power, but the ones that lack resolve.'" She didn't comment further, making the nature of the game clear.

"I once told Ganju that 'I'm not a punk who can sit back and do nothing while somebody is going to die for his sake,'" he said in turn.

"I once told you 'I didn't come here just to be protected by you!'" she replied.

"I once told you 'That's not what sacrificing yourself is! At the very least, I'm different!'" he said.

"I once told you 'I'm not so weak as to not be able to protect you, you know!'"

"I once told you 'You always nag and worry about me. You should worry more about yourself right now.'"

A long pause stretched out between them then as they reflected on the fact most of their declarations had been to one another. They mentally advanced through what they'd said to each other since being reunited. At last Rukia quietly said "Kaien-dono . . . also felt that the philosophy of Ukitake-taichō only reflected a battle to protect one thing. He called it heart. He said that heart was born whenever people interacted, and that when you died your heart would go to your friends and live on with them, and so you should never die alone."

Ichigo deliberately kept his gaze forward. It was the first time she'd consciously said the man's name to him. He closed his eyes and carefully considered how to respond. He had some measure of understanding about why some the things he said were so familiar to her. "I stand by what I said," he replied. He opened his eyes and went on: "It should never even come to that. This isn't a judgment on Ukitake-san, or Kaien, or you, or anyone, for anything. This is about an understanding between us. Even as we each try to do the same . . . if what's necessary is to kill, or to face terrible danger, or to trample on the other's pride to save them . . . then we should accept that burden and bow before the other later to beg forgiveness, rather than bow before their grave to do the same! It should be on the one who was protected to live and forgive or not, not on the one who protects to punish themselves or not!"

She was silent. She knew when he had said what he had earlier he wasn't actually passing judgment on her for her past actions. How could he be when he didn't know them? It had still hurt, but she set it aside and moved on.

"That's what we've really been doing all along," he continued. They'd repeatedly protected one another, or tried to, or wanted to, even while admonishing one another's tenacity. It had happened again and again, no matter how much they tried to assert themselves or how independent and strong they became. It was time that they both faced the music when it came to their instincts. "No matter how much we want to stand alone to protect one another, no matter how much we trust in each other, we're always saving each other. So being prideful about being protected . . ." he trailed off.

"You're my pride," she said quietly, looking to him. She found him hard to read.

That was exactly it. He looked to her, finding her cryptic. "You're my pride," he echoed back after a moment.

They watched each other for awhile before they both looked away.

"When we go back to Karakura, I would . . . prefer . . . you not accompany me on any patrol or action until you're ready," she said. If these were the rules between them, she wouldn't explicitly forbid him anything, even if they both knew there wouldn't be much he could reasonably do.

"I'll strongly consider that preference," he responded. He would try not to endanger himself in a needless fashion. The truth was Rukia wouldn't need his help against anything that was likely to come to Karakura and he would just be a burden.

"I'm also going to have to teach you how to be a proper Shinigami since nobody else ever bothered to," she added. She should've said it to begin with.

"Yeah," he replied. He should've known what she intended.

"The Hollow—" she started, not wanting to leave that unaddressed.

"I told you I remember. I'll get stronger. When I beat him, then I've beaten Ulquiorra," he stated. He didn't qualify it. It was a direct equivalency. There would be a reckoning on that score.

"And what about everyone else?" she asked.

Ichigo paused and took an extended breath, considering what she'd said to him. "That doesn't matter. I know better now, and besides, someone important told me I'm the real hero of the war and none of it would've happened without me. I trust her, even if she seemed concerned about her own role."

"I guess if the hero of the war is okay with reinforcements helping him in moments of need, then I am too," Rukia replied quietly. Although the rules were for them, they had both been saved by their friends and allies enough times that holding onto pride in those cases was no less ridiculous. That was what friends and allies were for. They'd just have to let it go and do better.

It wasn't everything. Just saying these things didn't fully resolve the issues related to them. There was still a lot of work to be done to make the words into reality, both individually and together. But it was a script to work from and keep in mind going forward. They'd arrived at solutions and their new challenge was implementing them. "So . . ." he said, leaving it open for her to decide whether she wanted to talk about Kaien then or not.

She was quiet for an extremely long time. "Your father is the uncle of Shiba Kaien, Shiba Kūkaku, and Shiba Ganju. They are . . . or were . . . your cousins. I met Kaien-dono after being adopted by the Kuchiki clan and being assigned to the 13th Division. That would've been in . . . 1952. He was the fukutaichō. He was the first person I encountered after leaving the academy to treat me normally. He mentored me. He was present when I learned Sode no Shiryauki's shikai and my first two dances with it. He was . . . like you and not like you. It was his determination and confidence more than anything. He sort of resembled you too, but his hair was black and his eyes were green," she said, contemplatively and haltingly.

Ichigo said nothing and listened, even as his mind idly noted things. The thing that stood out the most was that if he had ever bowed to peer pressure and dyed his hair she'd probably have thought he was a ghost.

"I always felt safe and comfortable around him," Rukia continued, "Around him everything always felt . . . so right. He was really . . . He had a wife, Miyako-dono. She was the 3rd Seat. She was smart and pretty and kind. She was . . . my idol."

He understood from the word choice and the pauses. She didn't have to actually say it. She had more than liked Kaien. She hadn't done anything about it and had striven to emulate his wife instead. He didn't hold it against her or suspect that she had become attached to him because of his limited resemblance to his . . . cousin. They'd been through too much for that kind of pettiness.

"Some years later, Miyako-dono was dispatched on what should've been a routine mission. She died, and her whole squad was wiped out. Kaien-dono insisted on going to find the Hollow that had done it. Ukitake-taichō permitted it, and I went along with the two of them. Kaien-dono likewise insisted on fighting it alone. This Hollow had two unique abilities—first, once a night it could dispel a Shinigami's zanpakutō, and second, it could fuse with another soul. It ultimately did both to Kaien-dono. For the sake of his pride, Ukitake-taichō pleaded that I not intervene, and when it all went wrong, he commanded me to run while holding it off. I ran but . . . I ran because I was afraid. I returned because I was afraid to face my cowardice, and didn't have a plan. Ukitake-taichō was, at that time, disabled by a sudden bout of his illness. I stabbed Kaien-dono through the heart because I was afraid to see him in pain. In the end, I really acted only to save myself," Rukia said quietly. Her pace quickened as she retold the events.

Ichigo pointedly kept his gaze in the distance. It sounded like a really bad situation all around. He didn't agree with the decisions of either of the two men, but who was he to judge? The parallels with his fight with Grand Fisher were undeniable. If he could go back and lecture himself, would his past self listen? If he was in Kaien's place, would he act differently? The best he could say was Kaien and Miyako shouldn't have been deployed separately, and that would've been no real guarantee of anything. To have been in Rukia's position . . .

"I took the body of Kaien-dono to his siblings. I told them I'd killed him. It was true. When I was in the Senzaikyū, I thought about this quite a lot. I didn't understand why anyone would want to rescue me, or what I had done to deserve people who would try and do so. Ganju . . . recognized me. He wanted to kill me, and at that time I viewed that as preferable to being executed. Then nii-sama arrived, and Hanatarō went to fight him, only for Ganju to go instead. He was cut down by Senbonzakura, and then you arrived . . . Kūkaku would later tell me when I went to apologize that Ukitake-taichō had told her everything, and she had just been waiting to hear me say even once that I was sorry. Ganju even stuck up for me against her before she revealed that. I realized then that I wasn't even the one most injured by his death," Rukia continued.

He winced at how much her estimation of her self-worth reflected his own feelings not even an hour ago, and at the pointless tragedy the events had precipitated. It heartened him that his cousins were so willing to forgive. He would definitely have to talk to them both at some point. He would also have to talk with his dad. Not about everything, if he didn't want to, but at least about this.

They sat in silence for awhile. "In Las Noches, when I encountered Aaroniero and he took off his mask, it was Kaien-dono that was underneath."

His eyes slid over to her at that. She looked incredibly distant. This was somehow even worse than he had possibly imagined. It surely had to have been an illusion, some sort of special ability.

"It really seemed like him at first. It really, really did. Everything was right. He told me, among other things, that the Hollow that had gotten him had been one of Aizen's experiments and had returned to Hueco Mundo to recover. That part at least was probably true. And then he tried to kill me. He tried to put his zanpakutō right through one of my eyes. He said it was because I'd killed him and he asked for my life in penance. And I said I'd give it to him after I rescued Inoue. He said it was a joke and that all he really needed was all your heads. That's when I really knew . . ." she trailed off.

Ichigo looked away from her. If Aizen had been in front of him again, he wouldn't have hesitated to do the most brutal things he could imagine. He didn't want any possibility of her seeing what was in his eyes right then.

"We fought and Aaroniero revealed the truth: the Hollow that had attacked Kaien-dono had indeed come back to Hueco Mundo, and he had eaten it, along with over 33,000 others. It was because it had been fused with Kaien-dono that Aaroniero had access to his memories, experiences, abilities, and appearance. Aaroniero really did possess Kaien-dono's spirit body. I eventually . . . all but lost. I was impaled on the end of his shikai, Nejibana. That was when I remembered what Kaien-dono had said about heart and managed to get a final strike in at pointblank range. I didn't make it very far after that. That's why Ulquiorra told you I was dead. That's why I was helpless when Zommari and nii-sama found me."

If he had seethed with self-loathing before, he had within him then a perfect, glittering diamond of hatred. Every single time she had almost died was Aizen's fault. The same was true for him. Being told about Zommari was bad enough, but knowing that even if he'd been there for the fight with Aaroniero she would have told him to let her fight alone because of that fighting to protect pride nonsense . . . he'd told himself nothing she could say would bother him, but he'd been wrong. Nothing about his estimation of her had changed, but he understood fully why she'd criticized his restraint. Rukia was only one example of the lives Aizen had twisted. He . . . had truly deserved no quarter. Ichigo should have ended it in a single instant.

"So, you see Ichigo," Rukia said with a sigh, "I once coveted a woman's husband and then I killed him. He left his heart to me in spite of that. Then in a way I killed him again, even as I was developing an attachment to his cousin." It was an ugly thing to say, and an uglier way of putting it. The continuity with her thoughts during her imprisonment in Soul Society and even afterwards went unsaid but was plain to see: it seemed she was always hurting the people she truly liked, and so she had to keep them away . . .

He was outraged to be so consumed with hatred for Aizen rather than attending to her. Even in defeat, you still manage to twist things! With the utmost exertion he shoved the feeling aside, forcing his attention to the woman sitting beside him—to his girlfriend. "You did nothing wrong." It came out oddly if truthfully.

She turned to look at him. He didn't meet her gaze, and she could see the lingering fury in him even at a glancing angle. "Ichigo . . ." she said lightly.

He looked to her. "You did nothing wrong," he repeated with iron in his voice.

Rukia fully saw echoes of things she didn't like to see in him at all, even as she saw an intense sympathy for her and what she had endured. She paused at the sight. She had promised herself to stand still and step back, not to retreat entirely. She reached out a hand onto one of his, brushing it at it soothingly. She'd known this would happen, and that was why she'd led off the way she had. "Neither did you."

Ichigo placed his other hand on top of hers even as he looked down at their union.

After a few seconds she did the same, and they sat together with one another in silence, not quite looking at one another. Even as they did so, things in both of them crumbled. It was as though their time together had been spent methodically preparing to conduct a demolition of one another's edifices of guilt, drilling holes in structural supports everywhere before carefully packing them with explosives. Hands together, they metaphorically pushed down on a shared detonator, and it all began to come down, slowly at first. The contact said more than words really could. It didn't stop them from trying.

"I'm sorry that I got heated earlier," Ichigo said.

"I'm sorry that I pushed you so hard," Rukia replied.

"I'm sorry that I always forget what you've taught me," he continued.

"I'm sorry that I left you alone suddenly like that," she said.

"I'm sorry that I didn't believe you'd come back for me."

"I'm sorry that I told you to save the reunion for later."

Their eyes rose to meet.

"Rukia . . ." he whispered, finding he could finally pull the sword in him out by bloody centimeters.

"Ichigo . . ." she replied, standing at the bottom of her void, feeling it beginning to rise up and contract.

Each could see the other's eyes were liquid, although neither was teary. "I missed you," they both said at the same time. Neither really moved first. Their hands slid away and they leaned in to lightly embrace one another. It didn't feel anything like it had before when they had held one another—it was somber somehow.

In her mind, Rukia stared at where the void had been even as she gently held on to Ichigo. She had once more regained what she had once thought lost and was left to consider it all. Why does it still . . . hurt? It was different than before.

In his mind, Ichigo tossed the sword away as he put his arms around Rukia, watching it disintegrate as it flew, never hitting the ground. The wound it left was still flowing languidly. It still . . . hurts. It was different than before.

They clung to one another for some unknown amount of time, just breathing, trying to understand what was happening, wondering if they'd really laid bare everything that ailed them, and if they had, whether that would be enough for them to heal. They would need more time to know for sure. They both suddenly felt incredibly emotionally drained.

His eyes shifted over to the sunlit city. Would his inner world look like that if he was there? Had the rain stopped again? Perhaps it was only just clearing. Still . . . "You asked me if I liked the rain," he said quietly.

She said nothing but he knew she was listening.

"I hate the rain. Inside, in there, ever since mom died, it was always raining, even before I could ever go there," he went on, "You're . . . the one that makes it look like out there." He pointed a finger toward the window without moving his hands.

Rukia looked over toward the brightly lit buildings, blinking at his words.

"And even when you're here and it's not like that, you were right that it's not so bad as long as it can be shared," Ichigo concluded.

She looked up at him, finding he was looking back. They found each other hard to read again. She didn't know what to say.

He gave her the smallest of smiles, before slowly pulling back. "How about we get something to eat, and you go try out that fitness spa? You should get to try having a real professional massage."

"But—" she started. She didn't immediately grasp his intent, even as she remembered having had the conversation before.

"I'll go to the gym. They're right next door. We don't have to do everything together," he said.

She looked back to the city as she understood. He was right that they needed time alone then. Not for the first time she found herself wondering when he'd developed this maturity he kept occasionally showing hints of. "Alright," she said, pulling away and going to get dressed properly.

He didn't watch her go, considering the city.

After ordering room service and asking for their clothes to be picked up for laundering, they went down to the recreational area and split up with the understanding they'd reconvene at the suite by bedtime.

Normally the spa required an appointment but given the timing and their status, Rukia was able to schedule herself for everything they offered. She'd also brought her bathing suit and towel to use the poolside area if she needed to fill more time.

Ichigo seemed to head to the gym before making his way to the concierge for awhile and back again. He worked himself ragged for hours until his body was as weary as his nerves. It was made easier by the fact he wasn't exercising regularly on vacation. It was around sundown when he showered, changed, and left, heading for the hotel's Fiorentina Pastry Boutique and to check with the concierge again. Fortunately he had more than enough of his own money left to do what he needed to.

Rukia opened the suite door with her key and stepped inside, feeling at the same both incredibly relaxed and tired. The lighting was subdued and the bedroom door was shut. She froze as she noticed what was on the work desk. There was a simple glass vase containing some azaleas, bluebells, and morning glories, a half-filled out postcard, and a fairly small and simple if elegant black box with a pink ribbon on it. She immediately understood the flowers to mean, in hanakotoba, patience, gratitude, and a will to keep promises.

She moved closer to investigate. The postcard was for Hamarikyu Gardens and he had filled it out in his usual way to his sisters. She carefully undid the ribbon on the box and opened it, discovering it held a strawberry tart, various chocolates, and small cookie-like cakes and sweets. She stared at the ensemble as her expression softened immensely before looking to the bedroom door and going to it. Quietly sliding it open, she found her bed's light was on and could see he was turned toward her bed on his, covers rising and falling softly. He had a hand extended out onto hers. Her eyes lingered on him for awhile before she closed the door.

It was sometime later that she was in bed with her soul pager. She turned the light off, carefully moved his hand back to his bed and tucked him in, and brushed his forehead gently while watching over him for awhile. She set an alarm and hit send on a report to Ukitake that was carbon copied to Byakuya. It read only "Kurosaki Ichigo will assuredly be mentally prepared for combat." She got under her covers and passed out facing toward him.