What up, peeps! Yes, I am back with another chappie of Rapture. I sure hope you're ready for this jelly. (Hahahaha...ignore me and my Destiny's Child references...it's 2am.)
Okay, not much to say this chapter, except thanks for all the reviews and support! Oh, and while Rukia's new hair bothered me for a while, it's starting to grow on me. Is it weird that I like how it's drawn in fanart better than when Kubo does it, though? In fanart, Rukia looks really cute with her new hair. In Kubo-verse, she looks like Hanataro's evil twin. (Don't act like you didn't notice that too.) And did anyone else notice that both Renji and Hitsugaya came back looking effing hot? YUM. This author approves (and may have to utilize Hitsugaya's new degree of hotness. *author plots* )
Also, I'm liking the plotline much better now! Yay! :D
I don't own Bleach. If I did, I would have been shot by now, seeing as I'm writing chapters as fast as a snail on crack—and no, not even the good stuff. Don't do drugs, kids. XD
Now that she was looking, she didn't know how she hadn't noticed before.
Rukia turned in front of the mirror, viewing the slight bulge of her belly from a new angle. It didn't look like much, and could actually be written off as the result of all the red bean paste she had been eating. But it wasn't. There was a baby, an actual person growing inside her!
Suddenly feeling sick, Rukia lowered her shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, willing herself not to spew chunks everywhere.
The bedroom door opened. Ichigo appeared, hair still dripping from his shower and a toothbrush jammed in his mouth. He hadn't bothered to put a shirt on, and was wearing only the strawberry-printed boxers that Karin had gotten him as a gag. His eyes warmed when he caught sight of her. "You're up," he mumbled around his toothbrush.
Her indigo eyes flashed dangerously. In response, she whipped her hairbrush at his head. Ichigo barely dodged, not even seeing the move coming. His eyes widened in wonder. Was she..trying to hit...him?
"How many times have I told you to dry your hair after you shower?" she snapped, looking like she wanted to throw more projectiles at him. "You always drip all over the floor! You're going to mess up the wood!"
He looked at her, confused. She would usually yell at him about this, but she was never completely serious! "Rukia, what—"
A shoe smacked his shoulder. Rukia grabbed the other one, taking aim. "Stupid, stupid," she muttered.
And then the unthinkable happened.
Rukia started to cry, big tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and cascading silently down.
Karin ran, listening to the sound of her own feet hitting the pavement. Sweat trickled into her eyes, and she distractedly wiped at them. Her legs burned pleasantly; her heart pounded in her ears.
Running was something she used to do when she was alive—she needed to be fit and fast for both soccer and kendo. Now that she was dead, she figured adding running to her daily routine couldn't hurt, so every morning, she rolled out of bed and slipped on her trusty sneakers.
She chose a different route every day so she wouldn't get bored, and today she had chosen to run through the different divisions. It was no surprise to her, then, when she ran into her brother halfway through the Fifth Division. What did surprise her, however, was the fact that Ichigo had stumbled from his house, his haori half on and a toothbrush still in his mouth.
Karin considered waving and running on, but as soon as Ichigo caught sight of her, he grabbed her arm before she could escape. She blinked confusedly, still breathing hard from her run. "Ichi-nii! What's wrong with you?"
With his widened eyes and disheveled hair, he looked even more crazed than she had originally thought. "You've got to help me!" he hissed at her.
Her stomach dropped a little, dreading what she was about to hear. "What is it?"
"It's Rukia." He glanced back at the house behind him, as if afraid Rukia herself would appear. "Something is wrong with her! She's yelling and throwing things!"
"Doesn't she usually do that?" Karin deadpanned.
His grip on her arm tightened. "And crying," he added meaningfully.
Karin paused. That was certainly out of the ordinary. "Well, she is pregnant," she mused. "You know how out of whack that will make her hormones."
Ichigo finally let her go, running his hand through his hair distractedly. "She's been pregnant for two years already," he murmured, almost to himself. "She only started crying now. Something is up."
Karin's eyes softened. "I'll talk to her," she promised.
Ichigo smiled weakly. "Thanks, Karin."
"No problem." She glanced at her watch, grimacing at what she saw. Great, now she was off schedule. "You look ridiculous, by the way. You should probably fix that—no one will respect a taicho if he can clearly be bested by a woman half his size."
Ichigo glared at her, but she merely waved, grinning, as she continued her run.
From the look on his face, Toshiro was clearly not expecting her.
"'Sup, bud?" she greeted, slipping her sneakers off and making a beeline for her room.
"Hi," he said slowly, setting his cup of coffee on the table confusedly. "Don't you have class today?"
Karin reappeared, her sweaty clothes discarded in favor of a towel. "Yup," she said cheerfully. "But not for another forty minutes."
Hitsugaya stared at her blankly.
"What, I can't come visit my dearest and truest friend?"
A snowy eyebrow raised speculatively.
"Fine," she sighed dramatically. "I go for runs in the morning, and today's took longer than usual. And by the time I get back to the dorms, I'll have to wait to shower," she explained. "Why should I do that when there is a perfectly good shower right here?"
Hitsugaya blinked.
"Oh, don't act like you didn't miss me," Karin snorted, making her way down the hall.
Hitsugaya took another sip of coffee as he heard the shower begin to run. He shook his head. She hadn't even shut the bathroom door.
He inwardly chuckled. Karin was quick to anger, but even quicker to forgive. He did find it strange, however, that Karin would choose today, of all days, to make a surprise visit. Clearly, the gods were still having fun at his expense.
Sighing, he got off the couch, making his way to the kitchen to rinse out his mug. Like the rest of his life, Hitsugaya Toshiro's house was neat and orderly—he saw no reason to let dishes pile up when it would only take a second to wash the few he used.
"Hey."
Although he hadn't heard the shower turn off, he had been vaguely aware of her reiatsu getting closer to him, so when he looked up at her, he wasn't surprised. Her hair, almost reaching her shoulders, was wet, and she was once again clad in the towel.
I might have to mop, he mused, too used to her bathing routine to have perverted thoughts. Although, the way her skin glistened did look quite…
He blinked. Karin was holding a zanpakuto. "Where did you get that?" he asked, confused.
"It was in my hand when I woke up," she responded, handing him the sword and making her way back to her room.
Hitsugaya studied it. The entire hilt of the sword was a gorgeous mix of ambers and reds, a stone of the same color embedded within the guard. The blade, while a normal silver, glinted extraordinarily, and almost seemed to contain all the colors of the sun. "In your hand?" he repeated, almost speechless by the beauty of the marvelous blade.
"Yeah." Her voice was muffled by the distance between them. "I had a weird dream, and when I woke up, it was there."
Hitsugaya turned the blade in his hand absently, leaving the kitchen in favor of his sitting room. Karin emerged from her room, clad in her Academy uniform and brushing the tangles out of her hair. She frowned. "I don't really remember the dream though—only that it was strange."
Hitsugaya's eyebrows furrowed. It was strange that Karin was progressing so quickly—not that he was surprised, but it was still strange. Absently, he turned the blade again. The metal seemed to radiate warmth in his hand, and deep in his subconscious, a purring began. He held the sword out to her.
She gathered her still-wet hair into its signature ponytail, glancing at her watch. "I have to run to class. Can you hold on to it for me?"
Hitsugaya shook his head. "It's yours," he responded. "And until you learn how to call and retract it at will, you'll have to carry it around like the rest of us did."
Karin pouted. "Can't we just leave it in my room?" she grumbled.
"You really want to leave a part of your soul around for people to touch," he retorted, ignoring the increasingly louder rumbling in his head.
"You're holding it," Karin pointed out, "and I'm not screaming in agony or anything. I'm not even twitching." In fact, she was feeling rather pleasant.
Toshiro responded by forcing the zanpakuto into one of her hands. "It's yours."
Karin sighed, wishing she had more time to debate the issue. But alas, she was going to be late for class. "Fine," she said, annoyed. "I've got to go. I'll see you later."
He watched her, amused, until she exited the house.
"So now I have this," Karin finished, gesturing to her zanpakuto.
Daisuke's eyes were wide, and he had yet to retrieve his jaw from the floor. "Wow!" he breathed, running his fingers along the blade. "I can't believe you have your zanpakuto already! Most of us haven't even talked to ours yet!"
Karin scratched her head sheepishly. "I know! I don't know why I seem to be on the fast track."
Daisuke nodded sagely. "It's probably because you're a noble. The rest of us peasants can't even keep up."
Karin shoved him playfully. "I should never tell you anything," she moped. "All you do is make fun of me."
Daisuke laughed, his eyes crinkling in mirth. "Clearly I'm jealous." His eyes roamed the room. "Just like everyone else."
He wasn't kidding. If everyone hadn't already been paying attention to her because of her family name, her new zanpakuto did the trick. There was a lot of staring and whispering going on around her.
She knew Hitsugaya should have kept it for her!
Karin blinked as she noticed Mizuno-sensei, from his post by the door, motioning for her to follow him.
"Oh shit," she murmured, wondering just how upset he was with her after yesterday's antics. "This can't be good."
Mizuno exited the room, and Daisuke whistled low. "You better see what that's about," he agreed.
Already dreading it, Karin made her way across the room, her hands unconsciously tightening around her zanpakuto. When she exited the room, closing the door shut behind her, she was already thinking of excuses.
Mizuno-sensei scrunched up his face at her. This didn't necessarily prove his anger with her, seeing as that was what he always looked like, but Karin still didn't relax.
"This isn't the class for you, Kurosaki," he said gruffly.
Karin's jaw dropped. He was kicking her out of the class! "I'm sorry sir!" she replied hurriedly, bowing deeply. "I understand that my actions yesterday were completely unacceptable. But please don't kick me out! I promise I'll make it up to you! You won't regret it, and—"
"That's enough, Kurosaki," Mizuno interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulder and forcing her out of her bow. "I'm not kicking you out."
Karin blinked owlishly. "You're not?" she repeated in wonder.
Mizuno frowned, his mustache twitching. "No. While attacking a taicho is a serious offense—as well as just plain stupid—Hitsugaya-taicho requested it. Your enthusiasm, however, was not necessary." He raised his eyebrows in question, but did not ask.
"If you're not kicking me out," Karin said, blushing, "then why are we here, sensei?"
"I stand by my earlier statement. This class is not for you." His eyes drifted to the zanpakuto still being strangled in her hands. "That, as well as your little show yesterday, have proven that you are too advanced for this class. So I am going to recommend you attend the Advanced Swordsmanship class from now on."
"Advanced?" Karin repeated stupidly. "But that class is for third- and fourth-years. I just got here!"
Mizuno looked annoyed. "You will gain nothing from attending my class, Kurosaki. I am going to talk to Kimura-sensei today. Prepare to attend her class tomorrow."
"Yes, sensei," Karin replied dazedly, watching as Mizuno-sensei reentered the classroom.
The metal in her hands warmed.
"Look what I brought!" Momo singsonged, her eyes sparkling happily. She had come into his house without knocking, but that was to be expected of her. Hitsugaya did invite her over, after all.
He was just lucky the gods didn't completely hate him today—Momo had decided to make her appearance a scant five minutes after Karin had left. And attempting to break things off with Hinamori while Karin was in the room was not an option.
Momo snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Shiro-chan!"
He blinked. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. "I wanted you to guess what I brought," she sighed dramatically, "but that's no fun anymore. Look!"
A large watermelon suddenly appeared from behind her back.
Hitsugaya couldn't help but salivate, and Hinamori laughed knowingly. "We can bring it with us to Granny's," she smiled. "It's been a while since the three of us ate it together."
It had been. Before Hinamori went to the Academy, they used to eat the fruit together frequently. He used to practically swallow the melons whole, he ate them so fast, and because Momo always laughed at it, he would spit the seeds out in a steady stream. Momo would always wipe the juice from his face, laughing about the mess he was making, and their grandmother would sip her tea, chuckling as well.
They were strong memories, happy ones. Ones that reminded him why he was having so much trouble cutting off the complicated relationship he had with Momo.
Hinamori was still smiling at him, but he could tell it was a bit strained. It was nothing like when they were younger, when she would laugh until tears streamed down her face and she practically choked.
And then he was decided. Toshiro knew that, stuck in this pretend relationship, he would never see Momo as happy as in the past. The blatant wrongness of the situation was smothering her smiles, her laughs—the real ones—and turning them into a sad shadow of themselves. And he sure as hell wasn't happy.
It was blindingly clear—Hinamori had to have noticed it as well. She had to understand.
They were never meant to be more than family.
It was with this new resolve that Toshiro finally spoke up. "I don't love you, Momo."
He could have smacked himself.
Hinamori blinked slowly, her smile fading. "What?"
"I mean, I don't love you the way you want me to." He ran a hand through his hair, annoyed with himself. This was not going the way he wanted it to. "I love you as a sister, and as a friend. I'm not sure when anything more was expected of me." He looked into her eyes. "But it's not going to happen."
Hinamori was still holding the watermelon, her eyes oddly blank. "I thought we were happy," she said woodenly, her words quiet.
"No you didn't." His eyes softened. "You know we weren't, Momo."
Hinamori continued to stare at him, still strangely absent.
"I appreciate you being there for me when I needed you," Hitsugaya continued. "And you know that I'll be there to support you as well. Just not this way, Momo. Not this way."
That was when everything seemed to hit her. Emotions battled in her eyes, and her jaw set. Carefully, she set the watermelon on the counter. "It's because of her, isn't it?"
He couldn't lie. "It's always been her," he confessed, coloring slightly at the admission. "But even if she were out of the equation, we would never work."
Hinamori lunged at him, a look of desperation on her face as she engulfed him in an embrace. "You can't leave me!" she sobbed.
"I'm not leaving you," he said softly, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "I'll be here, just like I always have been."
But Hinamori didn't seem to hear him, clinging to him in despair. "You can't leave me! You can't leave like Aizen-sama!"
And suddenly, he ripped himself from her arms, his glare cold and hard. "I am not Aizen," he spat, hurt prevalent on his face.
For a few seconds, Hinamori Momo stood there in shock. Then, fresh tears trekking down her face, she ran.
The front door slammed behind her.
A/N: Well, that was sure a long time coming. Let me know. :)