'ONE SUMMER'
Author's Notes: My deepest apologies to those who waited for my update. Wow, over 4 months. I feel like such an evil douche for making everyone wait, but thank you all for your patience. I can at least find comfort in saying that this chapter is quite interesting, and I truly think that you all will like it (well, keep reading and we'll see).
Now, while I cherish every single review that is posted, I have to especially thank NejiTenLuva for giving me one of the most inspirational and lengthy reviews I have ever read. That was terribly sweet of you, dear ~ :D
Warning: Graphic imagery/dirty language (You know, the things that make this story memorable). Ah, and slight Renji x Hinamori :D
July 5th
Tokyo, Japan
"Kurosaki…" the raven-haired girl once again whispered through parted, pink lips that seemed to shimmer under the luminosity of Shinjuku's exterior light displays. Ichigo, through dizzy eyes, peered deeply into the young woman's face—so serene, yet attempting to mask her ever-budding trepidation caused by the man's tight, vicious grip on her neck. He glanced at her flower-like lips; they were red. Yes, they were most certainly dyed an unfathomable, unforgiving crimson, and bleeding as well.
Rukia simply drew out a tongue and carefully licked the flesh of her bloodied lips, a delicately seductive gesture that seemed to perturb Ichigo's focus and drag his gaze elsewhere. Fuck. This girl was playing with him, and goddamn, why at a time like this?
His arm began to tremble as he watched the intruder's finger budge slightly.
"Don't!" The ginger-head boomed. "Don't you fuckin' move!"
"Shut the fuck up, kid. You wanna try and take a step, try to save this little bitch's life?" The gaunt, long-haired man snickered as his thumb carefully stroked the edge of his gun. "I'll shoot both of yer heads off."
"Ichigo." Rukia whispered. "It's okay."
Upon hearing her gentle reassurance, the eye-patch wielding intruder cocked his gun and a terrifying clicking noise silenced all parties, leaving Rukia only able to communicate through her eyes. She closed them. God, never before had Ichigo been so flustered. Only Rukia, the remaining jewel of Kuchiki Oyabun's heart, and the fact that she was standing on top of thin, fractured ice could make the young lieutenant's confidence tremble like feather wisps in the wind.
"So," The shady intruder began. "This bitch is Kuchiki's family, eh? If you don't want anything to happen to her little ass, then don't fuck up."
"What the fuck do you want?" Ichigo asked, still keeping his gun pointed squarely at the trespasser.
"Hrm," The man grinned, displaying rotten, yellow teeth so foul that Rukia's nose scrunched in repulsion. Had he not positioned a gun near her head, she would have most certainly shot another one of her caustic, smart-assed remarks to damn his lack of personal hygiene. "Put your gun down."
Ichigo hesitated.
"I said to fuckin' put it down!"
The ginger-head cursed viciously under his breath and dropped his pistol to the floor. He was then ordered to slide it across the room, and did so with masked reluctance, clearly understanding that his sudden nakedness cornered him into a very stiff position. The intruder, satisfied with the defenselessness of the scowling lieutenant, thus voiced his demand.
"I want Kaien Shiba."
"He's not here."
"And, where is he?"
"I don't know."
After an unbearable moment of pause, the man smirked, and simply replied, "Oh?" He peered down at Rukia, who kept her eyes shut. "Well, that fuckin' sucks. I was gonna let this one go in exchange for the Kuchiki-gumi's 2nd in command, but I guess there's nothing for me to do now except…"
Click.
"…kill this whore."
'Fuck!'
"Ichigo!"
Time itself broke into one thousand shattered pieces at the sound of her scream, and as Ichigo drew out a buried dagger from his back pocket, he quickly noticed the trespasser's eyes widen, his breathing shift, and his leg tremble uncontrollably. 'The fuck...?' In his state of confusion, Ichigo had to nevertheless act quickly, and he did so, flinging the razor-sharp dagger into the right shoulder of the man.
"Arghhhh!" He roared in sheer fury, dropping his own firearm, and allowing Rukia to escape from his grip. "You fucking bitch!" The man bellowed, reaching for his gun before a zipping bullet blasted one of his quaking fingers off in an eruption of gore and flying, crimson blood. "Fuck!"
Ichigo crushed his head under the heavy pressure of his heel and forcefully yanked at the man's collar, drawing rivers of saliva from his exposed tongue and nearly choking him. "Don't you move, you motherfucker, you hear me?!"
Too late, though; as the sight of Rukia crouching near her bed distracted Ichigo's gaze, the intruder pressed a tiny green capsule into his mouth and swallowed – hard. Before the ginger head could force the defeated man to spew out his death pill, thick white clouds of foam began to flood out from his mouth, and, as his black, squinty eyes darkened and rolled back, a permanent smirk plastered itself onto the man's delirious, ragged complexion – a face that somehow eerily echoed ' I win.'
Ichigo stared dazedly at the gruesome sight of the dying man and released his taut grip from the bloodied collar before directing his glance at Rukia. Cold sweat trickled from her forehead and neck, but she was nevertheless able to weakly display a waning smile that was so refreshing and so full of the sense of victory that Ichigo could not help but nod his head in response. He then peered down at her hand, and noticed, in her grasp, was a reddened pen that dripped with the intruder's blood.
A glimmering scarlet Mercedes rumbled beyond the steel gates of the Kuchiki residence and settled itself near the main entrance. Crimson-haired Renji jumped out from his vehicle and while tightening the knot on his rustled tie, dashed into the foyer of the mansion where he met Iba and the rest of the guards. As he attempted to straighten his shirt and wipe the remnants of lipstick from his neck (there was nothing he could do about the perfume), he roared, "What the fuck happened here?"
Iba approached the fuming lieutenant and scratched his head, replying, "Sorry, Abarai. You missed all the fun."
Renji scowled. "All that fucker Ichigo told me was to get the fuck over here because Miss Rukia almost lost her life. Shit, what the fuck happened to the other guards?"
"Killed," Iba solemnly stated. "The intruder was quite impressive; he managed to shoot down three of our guards without the others noticing, and slithered his way into the house. Miss Rukia was in her room when he broke in, and once Hinamori noticed, she was shot in the leg."
The red-head's lips shook. "H-Hinamori. How is she?"
"Well, she's got a bullet in her thigh, but I sent Hanatarou and the others to take her to the hospital. Some of the other guys are planning on choppin' up the intruder's body and sendin' the head over to Barragan as a present. Oh, and uh..." He puffed his cigarette. "...Halibel-sama is furious, and we don't really know what to say to make her calm down --"
"Get out of my way," Renji groaned as he passed by Iba to make his way up the stairs. After giving one hesitant glance towards the bloodied spot on the carpet floor where Hinamori was shot into submission, he neared Miss Rukia's bedroom and entered. A few servants were huddled near the window cleaning up the shards of glass and disinfecting the blood-stained tiles where the earlier confrontation took place. On the other hand, the raven-haired lass was situated on her bed, sitting motionless as Isane gently dabbed her cheeks with a damp cloth and attempted to mollify her with calming words. Upon seeing the red-head's presence, Isane excused herself and left, leaving the concerned Renji to crouch adjacent to a murky-eyed Rukia.
"You alright?" He asked, eyeing the heavy Pussian Navy suit that was draped over her modest shoulders.
"I'm fine, Abarai," she replied without sparing him a look. "I'm just a bit tired."
"So, now you finally decide to show up, you motherfucker?" A sudden voice intruded, forcing Renji to turn his gaze. It was Ichigo.
"What the fuck's up with you? I drive all the way back here and all you can do is act like a snot-nosed pile of shit, Ichi?"
Ichigo inched near the red-head without a shred of hesitation swimming in his still boiling bloodstream, and snarled angrily, "Fuck you, Abarai; your carelessness and your fuckin' idiocy almost got us fuckin' killed. We're in the heat of the most dangerous time of the drug war, and all you can think of is fucking some cheap whore in Harajuku. What do you think would have happened if I acted like you and left? What the fuck do you think would have happened to Rukia-san?"
"She's alive, and that's all that fucking matters, you pussy," Renji spat viciously. "You're such a fucking cunt, Ichi, that you can't even watch out for the girl, despite being my fucking equal!" He continued, ignoring the outraged complexion of his ginger-headed junior, as well as the stares of the servants. "I knew that Boss must have had a fuckin' aneurysm when he promoted you to this position. You're incompetent, and even though I showed I had just a bit of faith in you when I left tonight, you still have the audacity to dare speak up to me!"
Rukia was sure that something was about to snap - or, rather, get bloody and smashed into pieces. She painfully chewed on her lip while listening to the two insult and drop their classic F-bombs on each other, as if unable to bear anymore of their mutual hatred and testosterone-driven altercations. "Enough, please," She suddenly mumbled, stopping the two lieutenants before they began exchanging blows to the stomachs. "I'm sorry, you two, but..." She rose from the bed. "...I honestly can't take any more of this."
The raven-head clutched at her borrowed cloak, excusing herself from the bedroom, and ambled by her lonesome down the dimly-lit corridor in search of a bathroom. She stopped, however, after noticing someone follow her footsteps. About to shoo whoever it was behind her away (and quite rudely, as well), Rukia instead sighed and glanced over her shoulder to catch Kurosaki Ichigo standing in the same hallway, his hands casually tucked in his pocket - a gesture which seemed to hide the fact that something was amiss in the atmosphere. Rukia had always liked that; she admired the lieutenant's ability to cover his emotions so easily, quite similar to how the winter snows covered any evidence of a green, bursting spring. Had he been some other crony of Kuchiki-sama, she would have plainly ignored him, but Ichigo's mere presence compelled her to stop squarely in her tracks and ask, "What now?"
Ichigo sighed before he could apologize. "I'm sorry for my actions back there, Rukia-san. I hate to offer excuses, as well, but I cannot help but feel immense anger whenever Lieutenant Abarai tries to deny his faults. He's been difficult, and I let my anger take over because of that. I hope you will find that I do not act like this on a frequent basis --"
"Oh, hush up." Rukia bluntly interjected while keeping her eyes at the floor. Ichigo did so at her demand and said no more, albeit internally he felt a sharp pain plunge into his very gut when he heard the bit of anger which tinted her voice. The two remained silent for an elongated, awkward moment before Rukia breathed.
"You don't have to apologize. I'm not upset at all, truly. Kurosaki-san, I was simply scared at that time, and even now I still cannot seem to shake this fear off."
Ichigo inched closer to the girl and whispered, "Rukia-san, I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. Your brother-in-law ordered that I guard you with my life, and I will do that. I will never allow anyone - not any of those people out to hurt the Kuchiki-gumi, or Abarai himself - to rest a finger on you --"
The lieutenant abruptly shut his lips as a figure suddenly held out its arms and wrapped them around his neck, coating him in unexpected warmth and the tender fragrance of strawberry and kiwi fruit. "R...Rukia?"
He looked down and saw the lass embrace him tightly, shutting her eyes before allowing any tears to trickle down her cheek. But, Ichigo noticed her doleful, somber eyes begin to water, and though he was trapped in an awkward position (god forbid Renji see him like that), Ichigo said nothing; he understood how shaken up Rukia was, and if embracing him allowed her nerves to be tempered - even slightly - then he allowed it. The only dilemma for Ichigo was that little Rukia, who appeared so slim and delicate, held on to him just a little too tight for comfort. That, plus the abrupt contact between her and him was...perplexing (and quite uncomfortable), but Ichigo also acknowledged the fact that Miss Rukia was raised in livelier, more open societies where people were encouraged to embrace each other to flush out their emotions. There was no reason to believe that the girl held any deeper feelings for her own bodyguard, and to think that she perhaps held any romantic sentiments for him was ludicrous (or was it?).
"Rukia-san."
The girl sniffled, murmuring, "I-I'm so sorry. Kurosaki-san, I realize that I'm the one who has been stirring up trouble for you..."
"No, no, listen." Ichigo asserted, uncomfortable seeing Rukia in such a vulnerable state when she normally blossomed with sparks and fire. "You have not done anything to arouse the wrath of these people. Problems like this happen all the time --"
"You don't have to say such things to me, Ichigo," She spoke up. "I know. I have known, actually. Being the sister-in-law of the former head of the Kuchiki-gumi...that part rendered me shocked and bewildered, but, truth is...I have yet to tell you about my connection to this entire ordeal."
Ichigo sighed, asking, "May you clarify what you mean? What are you saying when you state that you have a 'connection'?
"I'm saying that it's a coincidence: me being the sister-in-law of Byakuya Kuchiki. I didn't know him until last month, and, hell, I never even knew I had a blood-related sister who was raised in Japan. All this information is yet to be properly swallowed and digested, but, something important you don't know about me is that I've engaged myself in the underworld before when I was a younger girl."
The lieutenant's hand began to tremble, and he felt cold sweat drip from his pores again. What did she mean by the underworld? The underworld of the mafia?
"Rukia, I don't know what you are trying to do --"
"Visit me tomorrow morning, then." Rukia whispered. "In my room. Don't bring anyone else but you and I'll give you some valuable information."
"Rukia-san," Ichigo quickly interrupted. "I appreciate your offer, but I think it's rather inappropriate to enter your own room by myself and not have a third party with us."
"What are you scared of, Kurosaki? Look, I'm trying to help you. Pardon the fact that my request is a bit bold, but I'd rather you hear what I have to say than any other person." She retreated back a step. "You've dodged bullets and traveled to outer cities by yourself - risking your life simply for the sake of the Kuchiki-gumi. I highly doubt that me asking you to enter my room by your lonesome places a dent in your confidence. So, just trust me."
Ichigo sighed in defeat, nodding his head slightly. It was no use to debate with Miss Rukia; if she insisted something, then she would undoubtedly get her way. And, furthermore, Ichigo's mind was genuinely void of any complaint, for any intelligence that he could grasp would be of much help to both his quest and his reputation. The thought of being able to surpass Renji Abarai and the rest of the bosses when it came to amount of beneficial information was too tempting for the ginger-head to further resist.
"Alright." He conceded. "I will come to you tomorrow. You should rest now, Rukia-san, it's nearly midnight."
"And so should you, but," She paused and slowly tugged the coat off her shoulders, presenting it to Ichigo. "...you ought to take this back. I'm not cold anymore."
Rukia gently handed the dark blue suit over to the lieutenant in the most tender of gestures Ichigo had ever encountered. It was quite strange; Rukia was the only woman which he would have forever described as fiery and strong-willed, and to characterize her as "meek" or "demure" or anything of that sort was nearing blasphemy. It seemed, however, that the incident - which only occured half and hour ago- somehow rendered the Blackbird just a tad bit vulnerable. In other words, Ichigo was beginning to see the "woman" emerge from her bold, intrepid shell.
"Thank you, Rukia."
"And, Kurosaki-san?" She whispered before he turned his heel.
"Yes?"
"...Thank you for saving my life."
Silence once again pervaded the atmosphere; it became more ubiquitous and intrusive than the fear itself, and the ginger-head found it to be somewhat difficult to handle. Thankfully, Miss Rukia sauntered off before he could reply, and as she rushed off to the nearest bathroom and shut the door, she could no longer resist holding back her babyish giggle. It was like a wonderful, glowing dream. Rukia, despite having nearly been touched by the spirit of death earlier on, had finally reached long-sought-after goal number one: embracing Ichigo Kurosaki for the first time.
July 6th
Santa Barbara, California
Slicking back the soft, coffee-colored wisps of hair away from his face, Sousuke Aizen gazed contentedly down at his book and listened to the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock whilst turning the pages every minute or so. He was quite pleased with the condition of his army at that time; days were flowing fluidly with no police intervention, all the money and resources they needed were being trucked in from the russet-skinned sloven back in Ravenna, and his men met little to no opposition from the remainder of the Kuchiki-gumi. It was inevitable that without the nucleus of the Kuchiki Confederation - the Oyabun himself - the rest of the gang was forced to deal with immensely harsh dilemmas and push back progression for the sake of stability. Now, all that was left to make Aizen more than merry was the news of his spy - one which he carefully implanted into the Yakuza-dominated district of Shinjuku - and whether or not he was successful.
Knock. Knock.
"Enter, please." Aizen replied with a sip of his tea.
"Ah, Mister Aizen, it's rather late now. How uncharacteristic of ya ta be stayin' up at three in the mornin' just ta wait for my report," A silver-haired man emerged, his grim, bleach-white teeth glistening subtly under the waning light of the chandelier.
"It's not a problem, Gin," the brown-eyed man smiled. "I enjoy reading at this hour when the rest of Santa Barbara is neatly tucked under the covers, and all that accompanies me are the darkness and the silence."
"If ya insist."
"Truly." Aizen smirked, and continued, "I understand that you have obtained the final report. May I hear it?"
"Of course," Gin replied. "However, I don't think ya will enjoy this."
"Oh?"
"It appeared that the mission was successful at first. Nnoitra was able ta break a hole in the security system and actually find his way in ta the mansion. However, the man we were lookin' for, Kaien Shiba, was not present."
"That's very crafty of him," the brown-haired man calmly replied. "He harbors some dangerous intuition within that mind of his. He somehow knew we were after him."
"I ordered for Jiruga ta take Kuchiki's sister-in-law as a hostage instead, and, if Shiba was not available for "questioning,"ta kill the girl and kill himself as well. Had Shiba been there, Jiruga's assistant, I believe his name is Tesla, would have shot down the second-in-command. But, we ran outta luck."
"Continue."
"Some orange-haired kid supposedly barged in ta the situation and demanded he let the little princess go. Nnoitra, of course, did not cede, and was about ta kill the girl until somethin' unexpected happened."
"And what happened?"
"Miss Rukia had apprently been writin' before our guy broke in ta her room, and because she held her pen in her hand the whole time Jiruga was grippin' her, she was able to use that as a weapon." Gin released a chuckle. "Heh, he flinched, got stabbed, then shot, blah blah blah. I slipped a cyanide pill in ta the dummy's pocket, tellin' him to use it if he eva got in ta a tight spot. He did so, and that's the end of that tragedy."
"Hrm," Aizen lifted the tea cup to his mouth. "What a waste of a perfectly capable soldier. And, I wonder who that orange-haired kid was that intervened. I wonder if we should have killed him, instead..."
Gin grinned, much like a demented child, whispering, "Should we tell Tesla ta retreat? I think them Kuchiki-gumi people are gettin' ready ta storm the entire city. But, Kenpachi, the headquarters boss, is most likely gonna be headin' ova ta Shinjuku soon, so would ya think it'd be best ta reinforce what we got?"
Aizen paused for a minute, twisting the silken lock of hair in between his fingers. "Gin," He began, quite calmly, and without a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Get me the phone."
The silver-haired man perked up. "Who are ya plannin' on callin' up?"
"Oh," Aizen replied, composedly flipping open his book. "...just an old friend named Ulquiorra. I think you will like him."
July 6th
Tokyo, Japan
"...Ne ~ What do you think? I told you it would be finished by this month, and I kept my promise. So, how about some feedback?"
"..."
"Hello?"
"..."
"...Hisagi?"
"Uhh, Miss Rukia..." The more masculine voice whispered. "...This article....is...."
"What is it?"
"...it's brilliant."
The raven-haired lass giggled lightly in merriment and slumped back in her chair, taking a quick sip of her milk. "Why, I have not heard that from you in a long time, dear. And, thank you so much for the praise."
"Well, I think you deserve it. The rest of my group will be quite pleased with this product."
"Now that that is complete, I'd like to continue --"
A knock echoed through the room, compelling Rukia to rise from her seat and eye the door. She paused, and then said, "Hisagi, pardon me, but I have to go now. I'll talk to you later."
With a tap of her button, she turned off her cellphone and settled it in the pocket of her bath robe. Taking a hand, she then proceeded to tighten the sash around her waist and cover her bosom, though still keeping a delectable portion of her milky, cream-like skin exposed for the summer breeze to caress. Her eyes turned to the clock. 7:00. Kurosaki's precision was impeccable, and there was nothing more charming than a man who kept his word. Even more charming for Miss Rukia, however, was seeing the hint of baby pink arise on the young lieutenant's cheek, and seeing how his chocolate-brown eyes shifted back and forth in her presence.
"Make yourself at home," Rukia politely offered. "I'm very glad you arrived, Kurosaki-san. I hope this meeting will be satisfactory."
Ichigo simply nodded as he watched the girl pull out a short stack of neatly clipped papers from her binder and settle it on the table with a soft thud. Brushing aside her plate of toast, she retrieved a stapled document from the top of the stack and handed it over to the young man. He examined the large, bold characters printed at the top of the page, but could not decipher what they meant. Nonetheless, he was able to deduce, from the coloring and format, that he was holding a newspaper article betwixt his fingers.
"Rukia-san," He began, brown eyes curiously scanning the article. "You worked for a newpaper company?"
"Well, I didn't just work for it, I owned the newspaper chain. But, to be fair, it wasn't prestigious enough, as I was only a student of Cambridge at that time. I entered into the university when I was 16, and founded a group that centered on journalism." She continued, sighing. "I got into quite a bit of trouble because the articles I published were supposedly poisonous. I had to halt its circulation around campus, and though it was no longer available at school, I nevertheless aquired a large base of supporters. They liked me, they liked what I had to say."
"How does this relate to the mafia business?"
"Take a closer look at the article." Rukia offered. "What language do you think it is?"
"It's Russian," Ichigo replied without sparing a second glance at the paper. "Correct?"
"You are." The lass smiled. "I was 18. My father - adoptive father - moved to the city of Tula for business, and he took my adoptive siblings along with him. I visited Russia for about 2 summers, and only went back to Cambridge for each new semester. I don't think I need to tell you this, but, I aroused quite a bit of suspicion once the new school year began."
"Alright."
"Needless to say, my underground newspaper group was still in business even after the officials at Cambridge threatened to toss me out, but I believed that I didn't need them anymore. We were becoming extinct - a legend. I wanted to pursue something else that didn't involve me playing the role of a detective and a journalist at the same time. You see, Kurosaki-san, what I specialized in - and what I was notorious for doing - was retrieving confidential documents from certain people of power, starting my own little investigations, and then taking them down with my publications." She suddenly stopped and lowered he eyes, the gleam of sunlight disappearing from her doleful lavender orbs. "I wanted to get away from that; I wanted us to dissolve. And, we would have disappeared off the face of the earth...that is, until he arrived."
Ichigo subconciously leaned forward, eager to hear what she prepared to say. "And, who is he?"
Dark purple light flickered within her eyes and the soft, feminine tranquility she displayed earlier became diluted with a bursting, steaming anger which Ichigo could suddenly feel pierce his very soul. Rukia appeared...different this time as she sat across the table - darker, more sinister.
"It...it was never supposed to happen." She began to murmur. "It was never deserved. 'God forbid it happen again,' I told myself. I kept repeating that, because, you see, Kurosaki-san, I vowed to kill him for what he did to me."
"Who are you talking about?" Ichigo asked, more eager this time. "Is it someone associated with the Kuchiki-gumi? An enemy?"
"You know him very well, I believe." Rukia whispered, feeling a sudden chill trickle down her spine. "And, I know him very well, too. I probably know him more than anyone in the Kuchiki-gumi."
"Who?" The ginger-head asked again; he was growing more and more anxious, tired of the suspense Rukia kept drizzling him with.
"Sorry, it's rather difficult to recollect my memories of this incident."
"And what was the incident?"
"I...It involved my family..."
"Rukia-san, I beg you not to withold this. I need to know who you're talking about. So please, just give me his name. If you're scared of giving us information, do not be --"
"I'm not scared." She interjected, pressing her palm on the surface of the table. Her lavender eyes burned intensely with both rage and the pain of a damned reminiscence, but she was quick to contain herself and allowed her bursting emotions to gradually cool. "You don't understand, Kurosaki-san." Rukia bit her lip, unable to lock eyes with him. "He did something unforgiveable. For me to start this hunt all over is...opening Pandora's box even after I nailed it shut and turned away. It would be going through hell again."
Ichigo said nothing, but only watched in silence as Rukia slipped out two photographs from her manilla folder and held them in her hand. She placed one in her palm, very gently, and peered down at it with such motherly affection and tender, endearing warmth that the lieutenant had to wonder (quite inappropriately, too, considering the current situation) whether or not Rukia was experiencing a type of mood swing. His thoughts snapped back into order as she offered him the photograph; it was aged and faded in regards to color, but the object of the picture - a cherubic, mournful-eyed little girl with dark locks tied up in pigtails - was outstandingly beautiful.
"Ururu. She's my little sister." Rukia said, softly, before Ichigo could ask. "She was the reason I pursued him, and why I promised that he would never see the light of day again."
"What happened..." The ginger-head began, with eyes still riveted on the photo. "...to her?"
"She was raped."
A cold lump of saliva forced its way down his constricting throat as Ichigo attempted to keep his collected composure. Suddenly, it seemed, the story which Rukia was struggling to tell was becoming more and more sinister, with its dark roots slowly being uncovered after each utter of her rosy lips. Rukia sighed, her complexion taut and pale, and slid the second photo over to Ichigo.
"Lastly, this is the man who did it."
Apprehensive brown eyes slowly moved to gaze down at the photo, and Ichigo's suppressed breaths mixed with an unbearable sense of fear. His mind shook as it assessed the image: that sun-baked, russet skin; white, feathery wisps of bleached white hair, and a particular, brutal-looking scar spread over the eye. Quickly, Ichigo was able to understand and connect the puzzle pieces together, with the product being a horrible, flagitious truth that was too much for any human soul to process, and so abominable and mind-numbing it quaked the inner heart.
"No..." Ichigo exhaled in shear disbelief, while watching Rukia nod her head once.
'Barragan...'
- 3 Years Ago -
Tula, Russia
The barren, lifeless sky cracked into pieces with the hot whip of thunder clashing against the clouds as gusts zipped through the heat-filled air and wildly tossed bullets of rain across the city. Multitudes of grey-stone buildings seemed to cave in and suffocate her as she dashed through the streets, panting and running, struggling to keep the rising power of trepidation and anger from overwhelming her body. Charging into a humble-looking building, the ebony-haired girl brushed aside the soaking locks of hair away from her face; she breathed, attempting to keep her balance despite peering only through blurry, tear-stained eyes.
"...F-father?" She whispered, stepping into the foyer. Not a soul answered her, however; standing near the kitchen door was the store assistant, a grey-eyed girl. She was trembling.
"Milena, Milena..." The black-haired girl gently called out to her, though her voice belied the immense wave of anxiety flooding over her mind. "Milena." She repeated again, inching closer to the young assistant. "Where is my father? Where are they?"
"They're upstairs..." Milena managed to respond through murky, disoriented eyes. She could not dare move, and only allowed her bottom lip to quiver while all else remained as still as ice.
The sodden girl sighed as she made her way up the stairs, her eyes riveted on the crimson spots of blood that blemished the once-spotless carpet. The color was so ripe, so vibrant, and so youthful - the fresh blood of a child; it made her sick to her stomach to see such fluids dirty her home, and it would be even more sickening when she reluctantly turned the knob to reveal a sight that would forever leave a hideously burning imprint in her mind. And, god, it was purely awful.
A young girl lay on the floor, motionless, with her tiny hand held in the palm of an older gentleman of tussled blonde hair and piercing olive-colored eyes. A younger boy sat in the corner with his head bent and hands clawing at his feather-like red hair, as if trying to yank something horrid from his memory. No one said a word to her once the girl walked in, though, the older male spared her a kind, waning glance as she settled herself on the floor and allowed a single drop of tear to flow down her blood-drained face. She began to quake, and wept silently as the rain outside gradually intensified. Disbelief and bewilderment transformed into wrath - steaming, overflowing torrents of rage - as her eyes traveled down the helpless little figure, examining and memorizing every bruise and blotch of blood marked into her skin.
The lavender-eyed girl began to wonder, while trying to pull her eyes away from the gruesome sight, what animal - what heinous monster, and what primitive, god-awful beast - would commit such a destructive, hideous crime against someone who never deserved to become the object of another one's fury. As she eyed the crimson stain settled on a particular area of her skirt, and the remnants of the perpetrator's fingerprints etched into the skin of her leg, something finally snapped - and it snapped hard.
The sodden-haired girl rose from the floor and wiped away the tears from her face. "I'm leaving." She stated, and quickly ran out the door.
"Wait a moment." The blonde-haired man called out to her, swiftly following her down the stairs. "Wait right there, you can't leave."
"Why not?"
"Your sister's hurt. We need to take care of her."
"You can do that. I need --"
"God damn it all, Rukia!" He roared furiously, slamming his fist into the wall. "You just got here! You saw what was done to Ururu, and now you're running away from her?!"
"Get out of my way! I'm gonna find whoever the fuck did this to her!" She shrieked, finally allowing her emotions to emerge. "I swear to god, I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!"
The man quickly grabbed her wrist before she could go any further and tried to tug her back. However, she harbored no intention of giving in, or letting go of the crime that was just committed against her little sister and her family's honor. There was no road - no pathway of safety - out of this dilemma; she knew what was to be done, even if it placed her own life in the devil's cursed grasp. After a brief struggle, the girl was able to free herself from her father's wrist, and charged out the exit - back into the untamed tempest of thunder and rain again.
"Rukia!" He called out, watching her dash off into the ruthless summer storm. She never turned her head back, even as he yelled out in a kind of desperation that was better associated with that of an injured beast, grieving hopelessly as the last remnant of sunlight withered and dissolved into the unfathomable blanket of darkness.
"Rukia!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
Ahh, I'm so lazy. But I'll still finish the traditional explanation page.
1) If anyone wants to know, Tula is a real city. It's just south of Moscow :)
2) And, as sickening and disgusting as it is, Ururu was indeed raped.
3) Uhhh...(Too tired to know if I missed anything else, lol).
Now, if you guys have questions and such, I'd love to see them. Please review, and tell me what you think, what you're confused about, and what you would like to see later on as the story progresses. Also, if possible, I'd like to know what you guys thought about the IchiRuki-ness in this chapter.
Thank you for reading!
