A/N: Prompt, day 4 of IchiRuki Week 2021: "Come on, let's go home."
The trek to the Kuchiki kofun, while one of the most familiar paths she knew, was fast becoming one of the longest, Rukia felt. Her weekly trips to the far end of the Kuchiki grounds started off easy enough, when nothing more than her limited energy and the occasional bout of nausea betrayed anything different about her. The trips grew somewhat more difficult after her middle started to outgrow her shihakusho's forgiveness, thanks no less to her trips with Renji to the World of the Living for the KFC they both craved, but the treks still weren't so bad, even once Ichigo took to affectionately calling her "the whale." But that was months ago. Now she huffed and puffed along the path like her heart might give out at any second.
Just a little further, she told herself, though there was little reassurance in the gesture. She hardly glanced at the kofun itself, for it offered her nothing save sides of freshly cut grass and well-scrubbed stone. At the very least, Rukia did not have to proceed up the barrow's side, and she lumbered along the path as it curved around the kofun. As if taking pity on her, a gentle breeze pushed into her face, and she sighed as it cooled her face. Spring was still new, but the bright sun overhead was pure summer to her pregnant body.
At last circling around to the back of the kofun, Rukia let herself smile upon reaching her destination. While the path had become distinctly dusty and the grass bordering it not so neatly manicured, the grave up ahead was immaculately groomed, as it should be; she and Byakuya had come out just the week before for its anniversary. Dozens of flowers, their buds brimming with promise, arced out in a semicircle from the paved walkway, pushing to the cemetery's walls. Within the semicircle were elegantly placed rocks and petite, well-groomed shrubs. Along the wall stood three trees, the center one a cherry. The minute sakura blossoms were still green, with only their heads betraying the dark pink that would give way to blushing white flowers. And just before the trees, right where the pathway ended, stood Hisana's grave.
Not for the first time did Rukia let herself feel a bit smug at the sight. The first time she'd visited her older sister, Byakuya had explained that the Kuchiki elders had barred Hisana's remains from entering the kofun, which was restricted to anyone not considered a "proper" ancestor. But when they relegated Hisana's grave to the barren lawn behind the kofun, they in fact gave Byakuya ample room to create the most beautiful one in the cemetery. No other Kuchiki had a grave that changed with the year, as if they were still in tune with those they'd left behind.
Stepping up to Hisana's tombstone, Rukia took the opportunity to finally catch her breath. She traced with her eyes the swooping characters of her sister's name on the black stone. The base for incense was clear of dust and ash, though a light layer of yellow pollen was starting to build up in it. A pang of guilt pulsed through Rukia's chest; she should've brought at least a brush.
"Sorry, Nee-san," Rukia said aloud.
Sighing once to prepare herself, Rukia began the laborious task of kneeling before her sister's grave. The movement did not go without much groaning and the return of all that huffing and puffing, but soon enough, Rukia was on the ground.
A flutter of minute kicks lightly beat her stomach.
Rukia laughed. "Your niece or nephew says hello, Nee-san," she said, eyeing the tombstone. "They're coming soon."
The kicks built up before ceasing.
Lightly running her hand over her stomach, Rukia continued. "Nii-sama says you would be so happy for Ichigo and I. I'm sure it's true, and I think I've learned that myself coming here so frequently." She paused. "…I'm sorry I didn't visit more before this," she said, much quieter. "I owe you so much. My very life, really. I know it seems contradictory, but it's true, Nee-san. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today." She smiled despite herself. "I wouldn't be married to Ichigo. Or be pregnant with our baby. Maybe I wouldn't even be a captain."
She stopped herself. These were all things Hisana already knew; she needed to hear something new. But there was only one thing left to tell her.
"I've fought so many enemies over the years, Nee-san," Rukia said, gripping her knees. "I've even fought my friends, but at the end of all those battles, something good happened, and I knew it would because it had to. Even if I died, someone else would be there to pick up the fight. But with this, I don't know if that'll ever happen." She folded her arms protectively around her stomach.
"Nee-san, I know you were never a mother, but I need you to tell me: will I be okay? Will my baby be okay?"
The breeze picked up slightly.
"I'm scared, Nee-san," Rukia said, her voice now nothing but a whisper. "I'm going into battle, but I am my enemy. What if I do something wrong, or I don't survive? How could I do that to my child?" Her throat began to constrict. "I'm sorry, Nee-san. I know you left me because you had to, but I don't know if I could forgive myself if I…." She inhaled sharply, her eyes beginning to sting. "What if everything does go fine but I don't raise my child well? What if I make a mistake, or accidentally hurt the baby, or…."
The breeze gracefully turned into a proper wind, hoisting her hair from her shoulders.
Taking in deep breaths of the wind, Rukia steadied herself before continuing. "You're the only mother I've ever had," she said. "I've come to you every week since I took the pregnancy test. Even if you couldn't be there for me in Inuzuri, you're here for me now, and I thank you for doing everything in your power to give me the best possible life." She sniffed. "That includes listening to my nonsense." She laughed lightly. "I'm sure it will all be fine, but—"
"'Course it'll be fine."
Rukia yelped and whipped around as fast as her stomach would allow, the child within once again kicking up a storm.
"Hey, relax, no need to go into labor here, of all places," Ichigo said, kneeling down beside his wife.
Rukia growled. "You didn't have to scare me like that," she said. "If I did go into labor, it would've been your fault."
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Please, you're fine. You have a week left—"
"That means nothing, Ichigo." She sighed sharply, rubbing her stomach to still the kicks but to no avail. "Isane said I could go into labor any time now. Due dates are just approximations. Didn't your dad teach you that, too?"
"Probably, but like hell I listened to everything he said growing up." He nodded at Hisana's tombstone. "She been answering you?"
Blushing lightly, Rukia looked in the opposite direction of her husband. "That's private," she said.
His warm hand touched her belly, instantly stilling the baby's furious kicks. "You're gonna be fine, you know," he said.
She slowly shook her head. "What if I'm not, Ichigo? What if I mess it all up? You heard what I said."
"I thought that was private."
She snapped her head around and glared at his smirk. "Would it kill you to take this seriously?"
Ichigo's smirk slowly faded. "I am, Rukia."
"It's not like…." She trailed off. It wasn't fair to tell him that he'd never have so much as a menstrual cramp, let alone endure labor. Couldn't he see how alone she was? The women of the Shinigami Women's Association were fine, but they were the type to keep at a distance. The only friend she trusted any closer was Renji, and he would never be pregnant either. As for Byakuya, the idea of him understanding her was laughable: it wasn't until Ichigo came crashing into their lives that he could even look Rukia in the eye.
"I…" Rukia said, distinctly looking anywhere but at Ichigo. "I just want to know I'm not crazy. That there's someone who isn't me but who still understands."
Ichigo slowly moved his hand down from her belly to her hand, holding it gently. "You think I don't feel the same way?" he said quietly.
Rukia's eyes once again began to sting. "Ichigo, I don't want to mess this up. And I'm terrified of giving birth…."
He squeezed her hand. "You've been stabbed in the gut before—"
"Don't you dare compare that to this," she warned.
"Okay, that's fair," Ichigo said, his voice placating. "It was stupid of me. But what does that experience tell you, never mind the pain?"
"That I have some nasty scars and still don't know if I can go through labor?" She rolled her eyes.
Ichigo sighed. "Can I tell you what I think it means?"
"If you must."
He gently turned her face to look at him, though she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "It means that you can go through anything and emerge on the other side with a fucking smile on your face," he said. "Do you know how close you were to death in Las Noches? I do. I read your reiatsu, Rukia. If you had…died on my watch—"
"We were there to save Orihime. I was willing to die—"
"Well I wasn't willing to let it happen," he said, and the note of ferocity in his voice finally made her meet his bright brown eyes. "Rukia, don't you see? You're never alone. I'm right there behind you, even if you go down. Be afraid, sure, but know that I'm afraid, too. Except every time it gets too much, I remember that you have a friggin' talent for proving both of us wrong." He squeezed her hand. "And that makes all my doubts disappear."
Swallowing hard, Rukia let her eyes pass him over. His brow was narrowed, his mouth downturned and set in that determination he by all rational means should not still possess. Even his shihakusho was wrinkled at the collar. Who was this boy to be so certain of their future, and why did that still manage to make her feel better?
A massive gust of wind picked up, fluttering Rukia's hair and thrashing the branches of the three trees against each other. Rukia raised a flapping sleeve to cover her face, and when she lowered it, something starkly white against the black tombstone caught her eye. Leaning forward as far as her round belly would allow, she picked up what she instantly recognized as a sakura blossom—the very first of the season.
"Isn't it…early for that?" Ichigo said.
"Yes," Rukia said, slowly turning the flower in her hand. What had appeared to be white petals against the tombstone were actually the palest shade of pink, with minute accents of fuchsia and gold.
A memory struck her then, of the first time Byakuya had recounted to her the story of Hisana's death. It was a plum, not sakura, blossom that had bloomed that awful morning, but that didn't matter.
Once again tracing her sister's engraved name with her eyes, Rukia brought the sakura to her heart. Thank you, Nee-san.
"Ichigo," she said, "let's go home."
Ichigo opened his mouth as if to respond, but ultimately, whatever he meant to say remained unsaid. Instead, he rose from the ground, dusted off his pants, and held out a hand to her. "Come on, whale," he said.
Rukia stared at his hand and then down at her massive belly. "I'm afraid one hand isn't gonna cut it," she said.
Letting out a mock sigh of irritation, Ichigo moved behind her and, curling his arms under hers, heaved her up from the ground, releasing a torrent of kicks from their child.
"How did you know I was here anyway?" Rukia said, lightly massaging her lower back.
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You've only been coming here every week for the last nine months." He took her hand in his.
"Yeah, but how did you know I'd be here right now? Are you stalking me?"
"I am so not stalking you. Don't make me out to be a creep…."
"Please, you are totally a creep…."
Hand in hand and bickering all the way, they left the cemetery for home, fully unaware that they would become parents just after the next sunrise.