Relevant notes: the Japanese word "shikon" means several things, and so if a person heard just the word but didn't have the kanji, the meanings could be various. Only by context can it be understood.

One of the meanings of the word "shikon" is the color blue-purple.

Oh, and Rukia's name does kind of sound like the pokemon Lugia, because in Japanese there is no differentiation between "R" and "L" and so all you'd have to change would be the "ki" to "gi."

This fic is rated R because of language, violence, and sensuality. If any of the aforementioned offends you, please do not read.

Review if you like. No flames, please.

kaerichi
Chapter 8

Ichigo was in the kitchen, scooping up some rice from the gigantic urn that lay off to the side in one of the large rooms. The tiles were a ruddy brown color and the stainless steel of all the cookware made the room seem almost alive with glinting reflection. People worked about him, doing their jobs, though no one questioned his presence.

That was partly because he was a captain, and partly because everyone thought he was getting a little funny in the head.

Yoruichi and Ichimaru had hit it right on the nose. Rumors were circulating now, about how close he was to his vampire and how he had "passionately" protected her from the taunts of others. It was even rumored that it had been him to step in to try and stop her torture (in which he seemed to have succeeded) – though of course no one knew that the torture rumor had been false anyway.

He was just passing a corridor when some boisterous voices floated up as they walked down to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I heard! I don't know why Shihouin and Ichimaru decided to stop the torture thing, but if Kurosaki-taichou was part of it…I wonder what's gotten into him?"

"Dunno. But Shikon's sure lucky, eh? Ichimaru was famous, ya know, for being able to break minds even worse than bodies."

"Break minds in what?"

"Dunno that either. It's just what I heard. I bet he was just dying to try his hand against Shikon, too! Probably was Shihouin that sided with Kurosaki-taichou – she always did seem softer with the vamps than him. Too bad Shikon's a vamp, though; man, she's hot! Did you see the pic going around now? Makes you want to get a piece of that–"

Ichigo frowned, clearing his throat, and stepped out into the corridor before the man had a chance to finish his sentence. As soon as those two got a glimpse of his hair (two level three trainees, Ichigo noted), they froze in their tracks. Their faces were hilarious.

"Hey," he said. "You called someone "Shikon." Who is that?"

Like it was rehearsed, the two trainees exchanged fearful glances before one said timidly, "…well, eh, Kurosaki-taichou, no one knows the vamp's name, so when she first came everyone just gave her a nickname. "Shikon" was one of the first and I guess it stuck, because everyone calls her that now."

"Shikon?"

"Yes…because, I think, of her hair and eyes?"

Now that he thought about it…

It wasn't the first time he'd thought about the fact that he didn't know her name, but since she had never offered it, he thought it was too much of a personal thing to come right out and ask. She'd never asked for his either, so they had remained "vampire" and "hunter" to each other, and they referred to each other as such.

He wondered what her real name was.

Most of the day had already passed by the time he was able to make it to her cell; in addition to his old captain's duties, now he had the trouble of looking over some new recruits and managing his own personal training schedule.

She was reading when he got there, curled up into her robe – he still didn't know what she was wearing under it, if anything – and looking comfortable. His eyebrow cocked. "A real page-turner, that book, eh?"

"Shut up," she replied with a mock-glare, putting down Harry Potter IV. "There just isn't anything else to do in this cell; what else do you expect me to do? Not exactly the most exciting of rooms they put me in," she added, glaring.

He sat down and sighed. "Yeah, guess so…" His eyes followed the contour of the cell as she continued reading, the only noise the flip of the pages. About ten went by before Ichigo spoke. "Hey, I never told you this, but…the name's Kurosaki Ichigo." Might as well be direct. He turned her and held out his hand, wondering inwardly if she would shake it. "Nice to meet you…I think."

She looked at him, and then at his hand, and slowly put the book down. She was probably wondering where the hell he had just pulled that out from. Her hands were in her lap before she timidly extended one, as though her skin would burn from his, but extended it to shake his hand nonetheless. "…my name is…Rukia. Kuchiki Rukia."

"Rukia?" he asked. "Strange name."

"Not as strange as yours," she retorted, pulling her hand out of his grip. Her palm had been so soft. "I mean, what kind of weird name is Ichigo? Sounds like something I'd like to eat."

"Well at least I have a Japanese name," he said, sticking his lip out. "Unlike you, Rukia."

"At least my name doesn't sound like a stupid-ass fruit, Ichigo," she retorted back.

"At least my name doesn't sound like a fuckin' pocket monster, Rukia!"

"At least my name has nicer katakana, Ichigo!"

They had a silent battle of wills, each facing off in the other's face, before something about the moment struck them both as funny. They didn't know who was first, but a corner of Ichigo's lip quirked and she saw it, and the corner of Rukia's mouth quirked and he saw it, and before they knew it both had burst out into laughter.

His laugh descended into just a big, sloppy grin, and he looked at her across from him.

"Too bad Shikon's a vamp, though; man, she's hot!"

Had others managed to see past her vampire exterior? Ichigo himself had never thought to, of course, because she was a vampire and he was a hunter, and by the due laws of nature they were never meant to mingle. He hated her kind, she hated his, and in the end everything worked out just the way it was supposed to and had always been.

He had never really noticed just how long or dark her eyelashes were, eyes large and wise in a pale, yet delicate face. Her fingers were slim almost to the point of being dainty, and when she smiled, her entire face softened, making her almost unrecognizable from the furious vampire that she had been when she first came. Her face was perfect with skin that just oozed the craving of touch. And her eyes, her captivating eyes, a shade of lavender that he had never seen. And her hair, her dark, fine hair that shone blue when the light passed in the right direction. And her hands, and her fingers, and her smile…

Ichigo knew he was noticing too much.

It had happened…and when it had, she'd been powerless to stop it.

By some form of the inevitable – there it was, fate was mocking her again – this man had done what she had previously dismissed as impossible.

He had become her friend.

So many days had passed, so many hours of just being with him, talking, he not really prying and she not really trying to be interesting. But they had talked, laughed, found common ground, and fought like any young friends would…

Did that make him her friend? Did that mean she actually liked him as a friend? Or was she simply unused to the total feeling of seclusion in the hunters' detainment ward, and had only attached to him because of her desire for company?

Well, whatever it was, it was beginning to irk her. She would wait until he arrived every day – and true, she would have to fight to keep down her impatience until his arrival, but no one knew that. And true, she had begun to pick out all his differences from Kaien – but when you knew two people physically alike, of course a person would start to pick out their little character quirks that make each one unique. Of course they would.

And then the second most unbelievable thing had happened.

He said an introduction, stuck his hand out for her to shake, and then turned into himself.

Ichigo turned into himself in the fact that Rukia had never managed to fully erase Kaien from her conscious whenever Ichigo had been around, as much as she had come to recognize their differences at times. Sometimes, the way Ichigo would just look at her would dredge up a shadow of her former master, and she would have to look away for fear her disgust would show on her face.

But today, when he had introduced himself, those shadows had melted away and all that remained was Ichigo. No Kaien. Just Ichigo. And she could finally stand to see him in just that way.

Finally Ichigo regained his breath from laughing and plopped on the floor, picking up her book and the ripped piece of her robe she had been using as a bookmark. The pages rustled as he flipped through it, observing some of the interesting (if not grotesque) chapter illustrations. "You know, I never did get into these things," he said after the silence, as his eye skimmed down the words. " My little sis , Yuzu,was always the one crazy about them."

"You never read Harry Potter? Gee, I'm over a hundred years older than you, and even I know what they're about."

"Well, it's not as if I exactly have a lot of time on my hands," he grumbled, as he let the book fall to the ground. "Unlike you, I can't laze around all day."

"Well, unlike you, it's not as if I really have a choice."

"Yeah, yeah, point taken." He sighed. "Wish I could be a wizard. Then I could just wave my magic wand and all my problems would turn into a toad."

"You wouldn't want to be Harry Potter. He faces a lot of crap, you know."

"Wow, now where have I heard that before?"

Rukia ignored his comment and delved into a plot summary of all the books available in the series while Ichigo listened, satisfied with watching the way her lips would move, and the way her eyes would brighten – just a fraction – at a particularly interesting part of the story.

On reporting to Ichimaru and Yoruichi, this was the first day that Ichigo didn't have any constructive information to convey – he highly doubted his superiors would be too interested in the trials and tribulations of a 14-year-old fictional wizard.

A few days later, Ichigo had met with Yoruichi and Ichimaru to talk over what was to be done at a meeting, between hunters and vampires, to be held a few days from then. Yoruichi said that she had voided further meetings at the last one, but when the vampires had left the main street of Roppongi strewn with bloody hunter carcasses, she had no choice but to give in for fear of a repeat performance. The humans were already getting spooked.

And at this meeting, the vampires had requested they bring along the vampire, just to show that she was still alive and well and not brought to any harm.

That was a little bit of a problem. Even with all the aura restrictors she wore, both Yoruichi and Ichigo privately agreed that Rukia had enough power to escape should she want to, out of doors.

For this meeting, all ten of the current unit division captains were called, and in return, all eleven seats of the elder and leader division of the vampires were promised to be present. They had rented out a bar for the night – with another hunter being the barman incognito.

Rukia had seemed surprised when Ichigo told her about the meeting (and the previous ones) and the request of her presence. But he told her not to think too much of it, because of course the vampires would have assumed they'd either torture her to death or just kill her outright. She looked nonplussed at the thought.

In fact, the only reason Rukia had been surprised at all was because she was amazed that her friends even cared enough to try and get her back. Normally a caught vampire was just dismissed as dead – she had seen it so many times before, and they always ended up that way sooner or later – and there was nothing that anyone did about it. But they were holding meetings with captains just for her? Something was going on, but she just couldn't figure out what.

So thus the night arrived, as day slid into dusk and finally, when even the last traces of pink had faded from the sky, Ichigo came to her cell in detainment sector 13-1. With him was his complete unit, fully armed and prepared to fight should the vampire offer resistance.

He went into the cage and slipped what appeared to be another aura restrictor, this one a silver color and so strong that she physically staggered from the crushing weight of the barricade between herself and her aura. Ichigo caught her by the shoulder but did nothing else.

They could not afford to be "friends" – or even remotely courteous – in front of others.

When she had regained her feet and the moment of dizziness passed, she straightened and walked out, Ichigo's hand on her shoulder as he followed her past the thick glass walls of her cell. There was a certain tenseness to the air, and more than once a finger was tightened on a trigger as she walked past. She said nothing, looked straight ahead, and continued on.

Ichigo slipped a blindfold over her face as soon as they were out of the detainment room; all she managed to see was a long, polished white hall before the blindfold came on. He steered her through the halls using only his hand, though they were never far apart. They went up stairs, down stairs, down elevators, and finally she felt the breeze of the night on her face. They were outside the building.

A car was waiting. She could hear the low hum.

They drove for what seemed like an eternity, until Rukia was sure that they'd either gone into the next city or had driven around in a circle fifty times. Ichigo sat beside her, a comforting presence. Even though she couldn't see him and he had told her to move as little as possible, she could still fell him – his aura, maybe – and he was close enough so that their thighs were touching from sitting so close together. The warmth reminded her that she had him, at the very least, if no one else.

Finally the car seemed to slow and stop several times, and she felt the traffic bumps that could only indicate there were in a garage of sorts. Sure enough, when she got out, she could smell the oil and rubber of a parking garage, as well as hear tires squeaking around a corner and the far sound of horns in the distance.

She was led up another elevator and stood there quietly, Ichigo's hand still on her shoulder. And when a light brush of vampiric aura hit her, she knew that they were in the final room.

Gently, the blindfold was slipped off; she opened her eyes to the semi-darkness and saw silent, red-cloaked figures standing, though there were comfy couches and chairs all about the meeting room – it was a bar for the human society's most prestigious, after all.

Urahara was the first to lower his hood, and then the rest followed suit. She recognized all nine of the holders of seats in the elder and leader division, plus Urahara, who held the main seat.

Yoruichi frowned and spoke. "There are only ten of you."

Hands on guns, flamethrowers, and automatic bows tightened.

"Of course," Urahara said, in his deceptively calm voice. "You hold the eleventh there, right next to your side."

Yoruichi gave her a glance, as did Ichigo – more surprise was visible in his – because over all the time he had known her, they'd never spoken of her rank. He was probably amazed she was so high up. Most people – vampires – were, when they met her for the first time.

Now that hoods were coming down in the sign of trust, Rukia could recognize all of the people she knew that had come to the meeting. There was Renji, and Ukitake, and Kenpachi, and Byakuya, and Hinamori, and…Hitsugaya!

"Hitsugaya…" she whispered, glad at seeing him so alive and well. The last image she'd ever had of him was his broken and battered body, speared through by a hunter, and all this time she hadn't known whether he had lived or not. Seeing him so alive and well brought a peace to her that she ordinarily wouldn't have thought mattered.

And he smiled at her, the infamous smile of his that was always almost a smirk. "Hey, Rukia-chan."

This really wasn't the time or place to correct him again about the suffix. She just smiled, with a hint of sadness, and lowered her face.

And Hitsugaya surprised everyone when he came forward, heedless of the sudden very obvious guns pointed in his direction, and stopped right in front of her. It struck her then that their robes were identical. She had never changed.

Most surprisingly of all, Hitsugaya gave her a hug.

He gave her a big bear hug, and all she could do there was stand stock-still and wonder about whatever demon had possessed him. All in all it was a quick embrace , but not quick enough for her to miss the whispered words that caught her ear:

"We're going to save you, Rukia-chan."

tsuzuku