Category: Mild Romantic Fluff
Characters: Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki
Additional Tags: Feudal Japan AU
The starlight caught on Rukia's strands of hair, making them glimmer like threads of obsidian as she strolled along the perimeter of the stone wall surrounding the lofty Kurosaki estate. Her armor lightly chinked as she adjusted it over her bandage-wrapped bust; despite her best efforts to secure gear suited to her petite frame, the chest plate provided no room for her endowments. For once in her life, Rukia was grateful that she wasn't as bequeathed as most young ladies her age; she'd barely be able to breathe in the damn thing. Worse, she certainly couldn't have masqueraded as a male for as long as she had. She'd already suffered too many close calls; thank the gods for the overwhelming stupidity of men.
It had been two months since Rukia had fled her adoptive brother's estate, reproaching an arranged marriage to a man ten years her senior. She'd tracked a course across Japan, traveling by night and using the local skirmishes between warlords to hop borders, until she'd arrived in a relatively calm countryside controlled by a daimyo known as Isshin Kurosaki. The gentle and amiable man garnered high esteem from his subjects due to his generosity and fairness; yet, he ruled his borders with an iron fist, quietly quashing all opposition. Rukia found it both admirable and terrifying. However, it gave her hope that she could remain undiscovered in this place for quite some time.
The compound's perimeter was quiet, as usual. Rukia quickened her pace when the dull orange light of the flickering braziers came into view, eager to retire so she could finally catch a bath. Rukia could only bathe in the deep of night when most of the men of the estate slept. She found herself eagerly anticipating her frequent ritual, as it was one of the rare times she could strip free of the suffocating armor and bindings to relax. As she trotted around the bend to the iron-reinforced wooden gate to the estate, a serene smile graced her face.
"What's that look for?" her replacement huffed; she wasn't sure if it was amusement or disdain, but to keep the peace, Rukia elected to proceed as if it were the former. She stopped in front of him, bowing respectfully to the senior officer, and looked at him with bright indigo eyes.
"No, sir. It is just a lovely night for a patrol." She laughed awkwardly and rubbed her neck as she admitted, "But, I would like to get to bed. I don't know how you can volunteer for all these late-night shifts, sir!" It seemed her assumption of his gentility proved correct; he laughed heartily and clapped her on the shoulder. She planted her feet as his meaty hand jostled her back and forth.
"I would expect more energy from a young sprout such as yourself, Rasa!" That was the name she gave upon coming to the compound; "Rukia" didn't exactly inspire masculinity. "Although, you do work hard throughout the day, so it's no wonder you're tuckered out by this time of the evening." Rukia was grateful the red-orange light hid the blush rising to her cheeks. She appreciated the acknowledgment of her efforts. She had been berated for her small stature until then, but several months of hard work and a fiery temper had warmed the estate's samurai up to her a degree or two. The older man rested a hand on the hilts of his katanas as he began meandering down the path circling the compound. "Rest well, young one! You never know what the dark of the night can bring…" he called cryptically, pausing to watch a thick, gray cloud drift over the full moon to eclipse its light.
Rukia blinked slowly and craned her head back to watch the cloud float over the white disc. When she finally glanced back down, the samurai had already vanished around the corner.
Rukia unabashedly moaned aloud as she sank into the estate's small hot spring's steaming waters. The collection of heated pools coalesced on a rocky bluff marking the complex's lateral border, which climbed over sixty feet high. The edge of the house peeked over the peak of a sloping hill, allowing Rukia to keep an eye out if anyone decided to venture out for a late-night soak and catch her unawares. With one final glance at the house, she sunk to her chin into the spring to enjoy the tension melting from her muscles.
Her eyes drifted shut after a few minutes as she eased into a rare moment of tranquility. The bubbling of the springs, the lapping of the water against the slick sandstone rocks, the singing of the crickets, and the wind in the trees graced her ears to fill them with a peaceful symphony. The cool night air kissed her face, making her lips curl into a smile at the pleasant contrast. Under the water, she rolled her shoulders to further ease the slowly-unknotting kinks in her trapezii. She then reclined back against the water-smoothed stone. A sigh of contentment breezed past her lips. So absorbed in her relaxation, she didn't register the clanging steel and the angry shouting until she heard the door to the side of the house slam open.
"Damn it!" The man's cursed floated down the hill. Rukia suddenly surged up from the spring to fumble for her katana by the bank, the cold air blasting her pink, heated skin as she scrambled about. She snatched up the sword and ripped it from the scabbard, then retreated up against the bluff to hide in the water between a pair of large, round boulders. Rukia would much rather charge up the hill to join the ensuing skirmish, but she sure as hell couldn't do it stark-naked. Her only hope was that no one wandered down the slope to discover her wedged between the rocks with only her katana and her agility to defend her.
What's happening? Her mind whirled a hundred miles per second. Had an invasion party somehow broken through the border fifty miles away without them knowing? No, that was impossible; they'd have sent a message to Lord Kurosaki without fail. What could have happened?
Rukia sucked in a gasp as the sound of footsteps thundered down the hill; based on the quality, three bodies were currently trundling towards her. Rukia crouched down in the water, hoping the shadows would be enough to conceal her small form. Then, she remembered her armor neatly draped across the flat rock beside the hot springs, and her heart leaped up into her throat.
"Bah. It's just some dumb hot springs," the wheedling, nasally whine of a man echoed across the springs. She could hear armor clanking as he shuffled around the bank. Please turn around. Please turn around, she prayed. Her heart dropped from her throat to the pit of her belly when she heard a sharp whistle and the unmistakable sound of the tip of a katana scouring across an armored chest plate.
"Well, well, well. Looks like we have a little mouse scurrying about," sneered another voice, deeper and edged with malice. Rukia jumped as someone out of her field of vision kicked her scabbard into the spring. She watched with wide blue eyes as the leather sheath sunk to the bottom.
"Come out, come out! We just want to play." Rukia shuddered as the harsh scraping of steel echoed around the springs when the three men drew their swords. She still had the advantage of mild surprise and could charge them- but could she surprise them enough to kill all of them in seconds? Most likely not; if these men were bold enough to attack a samurai estate in the middle of the night, they were likely battle-seasoned veterans. A shiver gripped Rukia's body as she struggled to come up with a viable plan.
"Where are you hiding, little mouse?" The men continued to jeer, walking into Rukia's line of sight at last as she hollered and chortled scathingly. Her heart sunk further, feeling like it plummeted into the soles of her feet. The men sported bulky frames and, worse, the Kuchiki family crest. They found me after all…! "Rukia-chaaaaaaaan," one finally cooed, stomping to the bank to kick the top of the water. Droplets splashed across the surface and into Rukia's midnight-colored hair. "It's best if you come out now. Lord Byakuya will be pissed if we come back with ya missin' a limb or two." Rukia meekly pressed back into the rocks a few more inches until its rough surface began to imprint into her skin. "Don't make me come and drag you out, you ungrateful little bitch!"
"Boss, boss," another sighed magnanimously and pointed at her armor. "She's just embarrassed. Girl don't have any clothes on."
Even from the considerable distance, Rukia could clearly see the malicious and lecherous glint that chipped their eyes.
"Ohhhhh," the leader cooed darkly. "How unfortunate… Little Miss Rukia will have to walk the whole way back home with no clothes. But that's all right- I could think of a few ways to warm her up." The men burst into evil laughter while Rukia whimpered. This was not how it was supposed to go. Rukia was supposed to run away and become a strong samurai. Yet here she was, cowering in a crevice praying for a savior. She squeezed her eyes shut, compressing her watery tears to force them out. They rolled down her cheeks to drop down into the water sloshing around her shaking form.
Please…! I don't want to go back!
The men's gruff cackles ceased with the singing of steel, the crunching of metal, and a high-pitched yelp fading into a grotesque gurgle. Rukia's indigo eyes snapped open just in time to see one of the men splash into the hot spring, blood spurting from his severed carotids and jugular. The red stain began to flood through the steaming water as his form descended the few feet to the rocky bottom. In his place stood an orange-haired individual, scowling as he brandished a bloody katana at the other two samurai, who wore identical expressions of shock.
"All right, you bastards," Ichigo Kurosaki snarled, "either you hightail it outta here with the rest of your pathetic rabble, or you join your friend there." While most sensible men would have gratefully taken the offered chance and fled, Kuchiki men were prideful to a fault; with ear-splitting roars, the two samurai charged and slashed at Ichigo. The young Kurosaki easily side-stepped the first blade to parry it, simultaneously grabbing the other man's wrist to drive his katana through the first attacker's belly. As the one enemy sucked in a breath and clutched at the sword in his stomach while the other spluttered apologies, Ichigo skirted around his back to slash down the length of his skull, splitting it open. They both fell into a heap at his feet, groaning and twitching and bleeding profusely. Ichigo crouched down, drawing his short knife from his hip, and quickly sent them to the afterlife.
"Rasa." Rukia flinched as he called her false name. The tall, lanky boy cleaned his katana and knife with a cloth before standing up and sheathing them both. The din of battle ceased with raucous victory yells, presumably from the Kurosaki samurai clan. Ichigo did not indulge in their revelry but instead peered critically into the shadows where she still hid. "Rasa," he repeated. "Come out, you coward. You always bathe at this time of night; I know it's you." Rukia bristled at the insinuation, but she couldn't blame him; it certainly looked like she was a craven right now. She was too absorbed in her whirling mind even to consider that Ichigo knew that intimate detail about her schedule. Instead of coming into the light, she called back.
"I'm not a coward!" Fright raised her voice several octaves. She couldn't give herself away, not after this. The Kuchikis had attacked the compound; she could be accused of being a spy and forced to commit seppuku! Ripples coursed across the water as she began to quake. "I'm not… I didn't… It's not what you think," she pleaded weakly. Ichigo watched the sloshing water through narrowed, hardened eyes. After a minute, she squeaked, "I can't come out, Kurosaki-san…"
"Why the hell not?" he demanded, stamping his feet. "You shy? I ain't leavin' until you give me an explanation, dammit!" Rukia bit down on her bottom lip. She wracked her brain for several seconds, trying to develop a plan, but to no avail. She had to resign herself to her fate, whatever it may be. She covered her exposed intimate areas with her hands, growing hot and red-faced as she suddenly felt all the more exposed. Gingerly, she eased out of her hiding place into the moonlight. "There you a- Oh. Ohhh."
The tangerine-haired boy gawked stupidly at her small, curvaceous form hidden partially by her hands. Her pinkened skin shone in the moonlight as she cast her embarrassed gaze down at the water, too mortified to meet his eye. Through her thick lashes, she could see the way he shuffled around on the shore, struggling with the epiphany thrust upon him. "I- dammit, you're a-a-a girl- a girl, yeah, shit, that explains a lot, um… Shit! What's your name? I know Rasa has to be a fake name. Shit! Nevermind that! Put some damn clothes on!" He suddenly turned around, covering his face with his forearm for good measure. She could see the dark red tinge on his ears even in the gloom as she finally looked up at him. "J-just let me know when you've got your underclothes on, okay?"
"Y-yes!" she stammered, quickly splashing out of the hot springs to scramble to her clothes. She flung her silk kimono on over herself, fumbling with the sash as her fingers trembled. "Al-almost done!" she yelled after a few seconds. Finally, she secured the strap and turned around, smoothing the creases in her clothes and kinks in her hair. "I-I'm ready now! Thank you!"
"Jeez," Ichigo whined as he turned to face her, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks shone with a rosy hue as he regarded her with a mixture of weary and curiosity. "Your name?" he asked again, tiredly. Rukia hesitated, but when he demanded it with more bark, she complied.
"R-Rukia!" She gulped, hoping he wouldn't recognize it.
"Rukia Kuchiki?" he pressed with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. Her eyes flickered down to his hand, but it did not yet sneak towards his sword's hilt.
"Yes," she breathed. Better to admit the truth than be caught in yet another lie later. Ichigo continued to watch her guardedly.
"Did you know?"
"No! I swear it! I ran away from a marriage Byakuya arranged for me. He sent those thugs here to find me! I'm not a spy, Kurosaki-san, I swear it!"
"Stop, stop, stop, stop," he interrupted, holding up a hand in a "halt" motion while pressing his forehead tiredly into the other. "Too much. As long as you weren't involved, I don't care about your baggage." Rukia had been flapping her arms wildly the entire ordeal; as he accepted her claims so readily, she dropped them to her sides with soft plap!s.
"You believe me?"
"What reason do I have not to? If you had been with them, you would have been with them, not caught unawares in the bath. I doubt those losers are good actors," he huffed disdainfully while nudging one of the dead samurai with a toe. Rukia sagged as relief washed over her body. Soon, however, doubt began to tense her muscles once more.
"Are you going to tell Kurosaki-sama…?"
"No." She nearly fainted with how easily the refusal dropped from his tongue. He began picking up her armor, heading back up the hill while gesturing to follow. "The raid failed, and they don't know you're here, right? There's no need for him to know yet. It will just make things difficult for you," he explained as he marched up towards the house. Rukia scurried after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. "However, things won't be the same after this. From here on out, you're my attendant. I'll make sure everything is in order by tomorrow morning," he said as he strolled up to the door leading to his bedroom. As he threw it open and casually tossed her armor down on the tatami mat floor, Rukia sputtered in indignance.
"I- what- why?"
"Because," Ichigo said as he whirled around, "if anyone else finds out, it won't be good for you, will it? This way, you can keep your secret." He seemed so serious that for a moment, she believed his motives were purely selfless. Then, he leaned against the frame of the door with a sneer. "Plus, Byakuya is a prick. I'd love to see him spin his wheels looking for you," he cackled. Rukia made a slight face at his mischievousness. Then she sighed and bowed.
"Thank you for this kindness. I will do my best as your attendant, Kurosaki-san."
"Ichigo," he corrected with an uncomfortable look. "I'm not into all that politeness stuff. Just Ichigo is fine." Rukia felt her cheeks warm, but she nodded, wanting to respect his wishes.
"All right… Ichigo."
"Good. I'll bet the boys are gettin' rowdy with the afterparty. Come on, Rasa," he grinned and threw a big arm around her shoulders to corral her toward the hall, where raucous laughter was drifting in. "I'll tell them all about how you killed three samurai naked as you came out the womb." Rukia groaned and shoved her red face into the palms of her hands. She had a feeling that her life was going to become worse, not better, thanks to this meddling son of a feudal lord.