TITLE: nemurenai yoru (Sleepless Nights)
CHAPTERS: 1
WORD COUNT: 1,143
PAIRING: RenjixIchigo (one-way)
RATING: I'd consider this T – after all, the only thing involved is kissing – but for those of you who can't take shounen-ai, stay away.
DISCLAIMER: BLEACH is far from being mine. It's Kubo Tite's – and he's making a hell lotta money from it as we speak.
"I am so blind as to dream, to fall into a stream of illogical love." – BONNIE PINK, "nemurenai yoru"
The street lamps bathed the otherwise dark streets in shades of orange and white, the puddles of light bathing cats serenading the nocturne atop trash cans, cars parked haphazardly next to driveways and garages, and the occasional snoring drunkard who lay in their glow, bottle of booze still in their grasp; the quiet of the residential district a far cry from the neon hustle and bustle of the city in the distance, still too young and awake for night.
Amidst the noise, nobody noticed – or sensed, for that matter, being largely unable to – a lone red-headed shinigami clad in black, zanpakutou handle firmly gripped, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, making his way through the maze of buildings and skyscrapers. Ever since being sent to Karakura a few weeks ago, Abarai Renji had been patrolling the area every night, keeping a wary eye out for errant Hollows that would occasionally find their way to the densely populated district, its bright lights making it an obvious target come nightfall.
The city was not the only place where Hollows would appear – from time to time, the residential area would fall prey to the creatures, hungry for the taste of human souls; the appearance of Ground Fisher there had made it all too clear, even for the dumbest of shinigami. With that thought firmly in mind, Renji made a turn, heading in the direction of the residential district, his sandaled feet barely making a sound as he landed on each rooftop – for just a split second – before leaping onto the next.
It was while he was walking through the asphalt-layered avenues running through the rows of terrace houses that he noticed a faint glimmer of light shine from the second storey of the Kurosaki Clinic, otherwise very much dark and asleep.
Heh, that's Ichigo's room. Wonder if he's still up.
Smirking to himself, Renji leapt up to the tiled roof of the house and slid the window to said room open before entering, landing on the floor silently. Standing up, he realised that the rest of the room was dark – the light he had previously seen being emitted from a table lamp that stood on Ichigo's desk, burning in pale orange. Somewhat disappointed, he switched the device off, he took a look around the room and was about to leave when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Ichigo asleep on his bed, where he stopped and gaped, a small gasp escaping his lips, and a single though racing through his mind.
Beautiful, yet so vulnerable.
The man who very nearly gave up his life in order to regain his shinigami powers; the man who had gone up against Kuchiki Byakuya not once, but thrice – and survived all three encounters; the man who had single-handedly protected Rukia from her execution, fighting valiantly against Aizen Sousuke – Kurosaki Ichigo looked so helpless in the pale glow of the moonlight streaming in through the open window and illuminating his slightly tanned skin, a scar from his fight with Aizen stretching across his erratically rising and falling chest, his trademark orange crown flat down and tousled, a complete change from the spikes adorning his head everyday.
And Renji couldn't help but reach a hand out, and before he knew it, he was stroking Ichigo's head gently. They had become close friends since their first encounter in the human world, their common desire to protect Rukia bringing them closer that they would have ever imagined. And for Renji, it went beyond platonic love – as he spent more time with the orangehead, he found himself becoming increasingly fonder of the man and his stubborn determination, his ideals and his fierce loyalty to his loved ones.
And before Renji knew it, he had fallen in love with Ichigo. Now, in the embrace of night, as he struggled to keep his conflicting emotions in check, Ichigo shuddered and let out a small moan, whispering, "...Mother..."
Renji frowned, seating himself next to Ichigo's pillow. While in Soul Society, Ichigo had told him about the nightmares he saw – and with increasing frequency as his spirit powers increased – of his mother getting killed by Ground Fisher, the scene playing out in his mind over and over. With Hanatarou's help, the dreams had subsided for a while – now, however, they had returned. And Renji's heart was in turmoil, in pain at seeing Ichigo being tormented by haunted memories of his past; in denial of his feelings for the man, yet strongly drawn towards him; in fear that Ichigo would eventually find out, and yet in hope that in the least, Ichigo wouldn't shun him for it – and maybe, just maybe, Ichigo would feel the same towards him.
His entangled thoughts were broken when Ichigo gasped loudly. Turning over, Renji saw, to his horror, tears flowing down Ichigo's cheeks, the droplets of salt rolling onto his pillow and wetting them, even as he whispered, "No... don't go... Mother..." Amidst his own jumbled thoughts, pity for Ichigo overtook all else and he grasped Ichigo's hand in his, entwining them gently while stroking his head, and murmuring soothing words into his ear.
Above all, Renji was heartbroken at seeing Ichigo so vulnerable and lonely. And without thinking, he leaned across and placed a gentle kiss on Ichigo's lips, eyes closed, before suddenly recoiling in horror, aware of the fact that he had just kissed his object of affection. Guilt-stricken, the redhead remained seated by Ichigo, more out of shock than anything else, closing his eyes and ticking off the seconds before Ichigo would wake up – and goodness knew what would happen to him.
After counting to a thousand, Renji couldn't take it any longer and opened his eyes, only to find that Ichigo wasn't awake – on the contrary, he was sleeping peacefully, the tears having stopped, a small smile now adorning his lips. Relief flooded through Renji and he sighed, internally grateful and relieved that it hadn't been enough to wake Ichigo up; instead, it had allowed him peace of mind.
He had no idea how long he sat there, gazing contentedly at Ichigo's peaceful face, listening to his steady breathing, and just feeling a sense of inner calm – until the moon gave way to the sun, and the murky depths of night started lightening up. Sighing, Renji got up to leave – but not before kissing Ichigo one last time, the taste of honey lingering on the redhead's lips as he made his way out.
Sleep well, Ichigo, and may you find peace within yourself.
And with that, Renji leaped out from the window and sped off into the distance, his crimson mane swallowed by the dazzling rays of the rising sun.
Maybe he'd never get to tell Ichigo. But at least for those few moments, he felt truly secure and content.
And he felt reconciled with himself.
