Chapter 23 – Confess to your Sin
A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys! A lot of people have seemed to join in in the past month or so, and I'm super-excited for you to be joining us in our journey. Thanks to everyone for reading and a special shoutout to the reviewers; you guys give me a huge motivation boost!
The muffled sounds of a heated argument broke Rukia from the inky blackness of her stupor.
"Mind telling me what that was all about?"
"I do."
"You're not serious."
"Deadly so."
"Mathis, I believe some explanation is in order. After all, his friend suffered greatly by your hand."
"Don't forget about me, please."
"We do not yet know what do with you. Do yourself a favor and don't push your luck."
She opened her eyes. Saw a ceiling and walls. A large crack in one of the walls was being hastily patched up by several Underworld soldiers. A throng of medics rushed back and forth on her other side, tending to the wounded. At the foot of her cot stood Ichigo, whose brow was furrowed as it always was. She noted his stance and gathered that he was actually somewhat indignant, further evidenced by the tirade she'd overheard. Standing by him was Silas and Mathis. Silas's hands were wrapped in bandaging, and while some slivers of the white fabric encasing them were red, they seemed, for the most part, operational. Another swath of bandages was wrapped around his half-bare chest, a couple trails of dried blood ribboning out from beneath their protective grip.
Mathis seemed no worse for the wear. As if he'd done nothing but taken a leisurely stroll through the woods. The only evidence that he'd been in any kind of tussle were his battle-worn clothes. Rukia was simultaneously relieved and annoyed that he'd suffered so little injury.
"Ah. She's awake."
Silas's eyes had met wih hers. She blinked twice and was immediately smothered by orange.
"Are you ok? Are you hurt?"
Rukia raised a hand to swat his face away, but found that she was moving at a snail's pace. Ichigo saw the hand and took it in his own, mistakenly thinking she'd been reaching for him. She felt the contact and grew alarmed, thinking Mathis had just shocked her with Needle Sharp again.
"I'm…I'm fine," she mumbled. "Just…"
"Just? Just what?"
"Just get out of my face, please."
Ichigo immediately realized his proximity to her face and reeled back as though she'd actually hit him. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
Their eyes locked for a couple of seconds before Rukia's attention was drawn elsewhere. She'd detected a shuffling of limbs out of the corner of her eyes, and saw that the girl, Michelle, was huddled in a corner, as far from Mathis as she could be.
She managed a weak grin. "Hey."
Michelle responded with a soft squeak. "Hey."
"Told you you'd be fine."
The girl offered a weak but warm smile in return. "At your expense, yeah."
Rukia waved her hand. "Think nothing of it. I just did what anyone in my shoes would have done."
She then noticed her right arm was stiff. She tried flexing her fingers and was rewarded with a tear-jerking surge of pain that lanced through the appendage.
"3rd degree burns," Mathis said. "If you were a normal human you might have lost that arm."
"A normal human wouldn't have survived the blast, period," Rukia pointed out wryly.
She thought she saw his lips twitch at the dry rebuttal, but when he turned to issue an order to one of the passing technicians, he looked as cold as ever.
"We have secured the outpost, but it seems we have sustained some damage to our troupe. We will not be able to effect our scouting maneuves with the injuries our company has sustained without risking the security of the outpost," Mathis said. "For the time being, we will remain here to defend against potential Legion retaliation."
With that, he strode off, prompting Ichigo to angrily call after him, "Just like that, huh?! Just forget that you nearly killed Rukia and some poor girl?"
Mathis said nothing and did not break his stride.
Ichigo let out an irritated huff. Silas placed a bandaged hand on his shoulder. "Please do not think badly of him. He is likely furious with himself for this slip-up, even without you breathing down his neck."
Ichigo just furrowed his brow and sighed. "Yeah, yeah…I get it."
"Good. Please rest, both of you. I must tend to a crucial matter."
Rukia frowned. "What about you? You're injured pretty badly."
"Our medics have done a great job of patching me up, Kuchiki," Silas said with a nod. "I will be fine."
With that the SIC also ambled off.
Rukia let her head rest on the cot's pillow. She felt somewhat rested, but she also felt unease in her bones. Her whole body had been so tightly wound ever since they'd made land that now she had a chance to unwind, it was difficult to do so. Every time her body relaxed, she tensed up, the paranoid notion that a Major would come barreling down the hall jolting her into overdrive.
"You too, huh?"
Rukia looked at Ichigo, who had taken a seat by the side of her cot and was surveying the bustle of the medics and repairmen.
"Me too what?"
He turned to look at her as he spoke. "You can't relax, can you? Just feels like something's waiting to burst through the walls at any given second."
She paused for a moment, and then nodded.
Ichigo turned away and shook his head. "This is not what I expected when I took up your mantle as a Shinigami."
"If it's any consolation," Rukia said, "I've been around for a lot longer than you, and I still don't know how I'm getting through all this right now. It's all way above my ability to grasp."
She looked up at the blank ceiling above her. "I mean, Hell? I've never even seen a demon before. I don't think I even knew they existed. To me, it was just Hollows and Shinigami."
"But I'm not too worried," Rukia said with a smile. "You're toughing it out with me, so I think I can relax a little."
Ichigo shook his head. "I'm not strong enough for you to start relaxing in my presence, Rukia. I'm not like Mathis."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I can't protect you. I can barely protect myself. And that's unacceptable," he said through gritted teeth.
"I'm not asking you to protect me, Ichigo. I just want a friend at my side."
"I know you're not. And I'm here. But it's not enough for me."
Rukia pushed against her cot with her uninjured arm and said, "Why the hell isn't it? You've saved me many times already. Is it not enough just to be—."
"I DON'T want to lose you, too," Ichigo said loudly, cutting Rukia off midsentence.
The two of them sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before Ichigo stood and vanished with a swish.
Rukia smacked the ground with her hand in frustration and grunted with the exertion of standing up. She wobbled for a moment before finding her balance. There. She was fine now. At least she wanted to be. She would have followed Ichigo had her injuries been less severe. Would have slapped him for being so overprotective. Would have—.
No, none of that, she told herself, shaking her head to clear her muddled thoughts.
"Are you ok? Shouldn't you rest more?" Michelle asked from her corner.
Rukia graced her with a smile. "I'll be ok. I just need to take a short walk to clear my head. You get some rest, too. You took a hell of a beating from that thing before."
"You mean Mathis."
"No. I meant whatever that thing was in control of his body. It wasn't him." Noting the look of disbelief on her face, Rukia added, "He is more likely to protect you than to harm you. That's his bottom line. Whatever attacked you wasn't him."
The girl still didn't look convinced, but she seemed to relax a little at the words. "Can I steal your cot?"
"Of course."
The single thought that galloped through his mind was small, consisted of only two words, and hit like a 18-wheeler.
She's hurt.
His footfalls were soft and padded like a cat's, but to him it sounded like an elephant was determined to stomp its way to the center of the planet. Deafening and drumming that incessant beat into his head.
She's hurt.
There was no way around it; he had lost a chunk of his power with the loss of his Bankai. Or whatever it was. The revelation that it had been little more than a placeholder had destroyed his self-confidence, and left him with no small sense of betrayal.
She's.
Hurt.
Without sparing a second for rational thought, he unsheathed his sword and swung it at the wall at his side, creating a large gash and lodging the quivering cleaver in the metal of the wall.
"Old man…why would you do that to me?" he muttered under his breath. Sure, he understood the reasoning. It was sound. At the same time he couldn't fathom being undercut by his own Zanpakuto. Couldn't he have told Ichigo the truth after they'd saved Rukia from execution? Couldn't he have stopped Ichigo from trying to attack Aizen with a half-assed Bankai?
Would it have stopped me from trying? his rational thoughts interjected.
"Mind not rippin' up the joint? It's takin' the lot of us summat awful just to fix what them demons did. Don't need you addin' to that mess, Itchy-go."
Ichigo turned and saw Harson lumber over to him. From up close he was even larger than Ichigo had thought. He was at least a couple heads taller than he was, and almost twice as wide, too. His left shoulder was wrapped in bandages and a large poultice adorned his right wrist.
"Shouldn't you be resting, Harson-san?"
Harson whacked Ichigo with his uninjured hand. "The hell ya callin' me that 'san' crap for? I don't hear you sayin' that to the LT or Mathis. I'm just Harson, son. No need fer honorofics"
"Sorry. Force of habit."
"I don't need no rest," Harson said after a pause. "I'm built pretty sturdy from the feet up, see? That's one of mah gifts, and I ain't tryin'a brag. Durability is pretty much mah calling card."
"So while everybody else has ta rest up, I'm one of the few left ta patrol. And good thing too, cos it looks like you were about ta go apeshit in here, buddy-boy," he finished with a frown, running a finger in the gash in the wall.
"Sorry—."
Harson smacked him again, this time hard enough that Ichigo saw stars in his vision.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. That all you know how ta say? Even before you were all apawlagetic and shit, and it's startin' to get on muh nerves. Stop bein' sorry and start bein' angry. Or rather keep bein' angry. Helluva lot more useful than a dumb sumbitch that can't do nothin' but apawlogize for everythin'."
Ichigo almost apologized again but stopped himself when Harson raised his hand with a warning look in his eye. The soldier looked at the gash in the wall again and pried Zangetsu out of it, handing the giant cleaver back to Ichigo.
"You worried 'bout your missus, aintcha?"
Ichigo spluttered, "She's not—."
With a wave Harson shut him up. "Aw hell, boy. Don't you insult mah intelligence. I see the way you lookit her. If she ain't yore missus, she sure as hell ain't just yer compadre."
"We're not—."
"Admit it."
"We're just—."
"ADMIT IT!"
Despite his vehement protestations, Ichigo knew. Harson may not have been outright correct with his observation, but he sure as hell wasn't wrong either. He definitely didn't see her just as a friend any more. What she actually was to him, however, was another question entirely, one that Ichigo was having a hard time coming to terms with.
"Thought so," Harson said with a huff. "Yain't got time fo' any o' that dancin' around and courtship while yer in our line of work, Itchy-go. You like her? You tell her. You don't? You don't. And if she likes ya, you guys hit it off. If she don't, then that's that."
"And chances are," Harson said as he put a hand on Ichigo's shoulder and made to continue his patrol, "she ain't gonna turn ya down."
With a wink that did not befit his large stature in the slightest, Harson strode off, leaving a flustered Ichigo alone in the corridor. He took a look at the deep gash in the wall one last time and made up his mind. It almost caused him physical pain to admit that Harson was right, but there was no other way about it; at the very least he would tell Rukia that something about their relationship had changed. From there he'd play it by ear. Yeah, that was the plan.
…Some plan.
"Whatever attacked you wasn't him."
Was that true? Rukia didn't know. When the words had left her lips, she hadn't given them a second thought. Their certitude with which she'd said them had indicated to her that they conveyed the truth. But now, as she walked the halls of the outpost and watched various members of the strike force scurry to and fro, she wasn't so sure. She wanted to believe it wasn't Mathis she'd been fighting, because that meant he was a powerful ally but an equally powerful foe. Soul Society would not take to that kindly; standard procedure tended to treat all potential enemies as enemies, and their willingness to act on this scaled with how dangerous the target was.
Mathis's hypocrisy was duly noted as well; he'd warned Rukia that if Ichigo had rampaged in his Hollow form that he would kill him outright, yet here he was, harboring a part of him that had nearly butchered one of his lieutenants and Rukia herself. Then again, it had not been his fault. If the Dreamseeker had not shown up, he would never have lost it.
She let out a sigh. She wanted to trust him, but those eyes stayed with her. Those gaping pits of black would haunt her for as long as she lived. There was something about them that horrified her, disgusted her to her core, but she couldn't quite tell what it was.
And Ichigo was being strange. That certainly wasn't helping. His obsession with protecting her and becoming stronger so as to protect her was really starting to bother her. She didn't want a bodyguard, she wanted a friend.
Just a friend, huh?
"STOP." She whacked her head with her uninjured hand and shook it as hard as she could, as if to empty it of all thoughts of Ichigo like one would a jar of coins.
"Rukia?"
Great. Now she was hearing his voice. She shook her head again and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Rukia!"
…Or it wasn't just her imagination. She turned to address the voice, and was smothered, once again, by the taller Shinigami.
"Are you quite do—," she started.
He silenced her by mashing his lips against hers.
His lips.
Against hers.
"Ichigo what—?!" she gasped after breaking away for a split second before he closed the distance again.
She expected to throw him off. For some voice in her head to scream NO! and order her body to thrash about in an attempt to break the grip. Instead she felt warm, almost stiflingly so, and she felt her mind in a strange haze. It felt good. Great, even. His lips were surprisingly soft and a little sweet. Like a strawberry, her muddled thoughts said to her.
Then his tongue snuck in and Rukia felt strange. It felt good, and her body reciprocated his actions, but something didn't quite feel right. Ichigo was not nearly bold enough to attempt a kiss out of nowhere, let alone try tongue—.
She felt a hand on her rump and that was the final straw. An alarm bell went off in in her head, past the foggy obfuscation that infected her mind. Even if Ichigo had been brave enough to go through with this stunt, there was no reason to think that he would ever try to touch her like that. He was too much of a white knight for that. So with every ounce of willpower she had left, she resisted the urge to melt into his arms and pushed with her one free arm as hard as she could.
Their lips broke connection, and Rukia felt cold all of a sudden. She panted a little from the arousal (she was appalled upon realizing she was, undoubtedly, aroused), and pointed an accusatory finger at Ichigo.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded.
What she expected was for 'Ichigo' to protest and claim that he was Ichigo, just as Envy had pretended to be Silas even after she'd been found out.
What she did not expect, however, was the soft laugh that escaped his lips, nor the words that left his mouth.
"Ha. You got me," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Envy?!"
At that 'Ichigo' looked at her with deep disdain. "That hurts my feelings, Miss. I'd never lump myself in with that crass creature."
She took a step back. "Then who are you? And what do you want?"
He disappeared. A pair of hands alighted on her shoulders, and a warm breath caressed her ears.
"I am whoever you want me to be. And I want what you want, sweet thing."
Rukia felt that intoxicating miasma spread through her again, befuddling her mind and eliciting a quiet, almost imperceptible moan from her. What the hell…?
She summoned as much power as she could muster and sent a bolt of reiatsu into the figure behind her. The explosion knocked her forward and, more importantly, broke that insidious figure's hold on her. She felt cold again, but the clarity that followed it was a welcome reprieve from the mind-numbing warmth.
"I'll ask you again," she said with a groan. She stood and raised her hand as threateningly as she could manage. "Who are you?"
'Ichigo', who had taken little, if any, damage from her kido, smiled even wider.
"Brava, Kuchiki Rukia. Color me impressed."
He bowed deeply.
"I am Lust. Former General fo the Seven Legions. Pleased to make your acquaintance."