A/N: Damn this is short. This is the shortest thing I've written in a REALLY long time that's not a oneshot. Just...WOW.
I don't own Bleach.
Chapter 2
Ichigo shunpoed all the way back to Karakura High with one step, not that he noticed. His body pumped with lustful adrenaline and his heart was going to beat out of his chest or go into cardiac arrest at the rate it was going. His body felt light and disoriented as he staggered down the empty halls to his classroom. She had tasted good, Ichigo recalled numbly. Really really good. Like...autumn mixed with vanilla. He could still feel her burning cheek and soft hip on his hands and her slightly chapped but soft mouth on his. Ichigo's eyes slid shut in recollection and bit his lip as he leaned against some lockers. Taking a big ragged breath, he slid the classroom door open and quietly slipped in, taking care to not look at the curious stares of the students that could see him. He could feel Rukia's inquisitive eyes on him as he pushed Kon out of his body (Occhi-Sensei was lecturing about what sounded like photosynthesis and was facing the board) and climbed into his physical shell quickly just before she turned to face the class. Ichigo stared down at the notes Kon had taken for him.
Fuck you Ichigo.
Fuck you Ichigo.
Fuck you Ichigo.
Fuck you Ichigo.
Fuck you Ichigo.
It went on like that for a while, with the occasional 'I hate you, you bastard', but Ichigo couldn't really bring himself to care. She could see him, hear him, feel him. That's all what really mattered right now.
Rukia stared at Ichigo from the corner of her eye as they made their way home from school around 3:00 that afternoon. He walked with his usual swagger and scowl but something seemed off. Or on. Like...there was an extra spark or charge to Ichigo. Rukia remembered Ichigo coming into class in the middle of the lecture with the oddest look on his face. It was torn between mortification from everyone staring at him and something else more excited. His skin had been tinted red and his eyes were on fire and his only a small strip of his irises could be seen with his pupils dilated so large. And once he had gotten back to his body he kept touching his mouth, a faraway look in his eyes. Ichigo's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife.
"Oi, Rukia. You okay?" Rukia blinked and hmphed, crossing her arms in mock anger. "Fine. Why wouldn't I be, baka strawberry?" Ichigo scowled down at her and snorted, walking into the Kurosaki home.
I'm the one who should be asking you that Ichigo. Rukia thought worriedly as she followed the Substitute Shinigami into the Kurosaki residence.
"ICHI-! MPFH!" Isshin's enthusiastic greeting (attack) was cut off brutally with a sharp kick to the face. Ichigo slouched past him upstairs, ignoring his twitching body and the mutterings of, "I have taught you well, my son".
Senna, in a uncharacteristic bout of calmness, walked home thinking hard. He had appeared, kissed her like no tomorrow, then vanished into thin air. Not to mention he was supposed to be in her head and he had the same heavy and intense presence that 'Stalker-san' had. So, Senna thought in conclusion, the guy I have been pathetically in love with for as long as I can remember, who I thought was part of my imagination, is stalking me and kissed me like life depended on it through my art classroom window. Senna nursed this thought. ...Yeah, that sounds about right. Now that that had been sorted out, she began to run cheerfully to her house, swerving occasionally and twirling until she came to a stop in front of her humble home and froze.
The car was in the driveway. Senna's heart began pounding. The car was in the driveway. That could only mean one thing.
Thump. Thump.
Dad was home.
Ichigo did his homework, killed a hollow, and was now eating dinner as quickly as possible. The Kurosaki family (and Rukia) could only stare as Ichigo managed to scarf down his dinner in the short time span of 3.5 minutes. Throwing his chopsticks down, he mumbled, "Later," with a mouth full of rice and ran out of the room and up the stairs. They all simultaneously turned their heads to Ichigo's empty chair rocking chair, then looked at the doorway. The chair. The doorway.
Then Isshin ran to The Poster, crying ecstatically. "Masaki! It's finally happened! OUR SON HAS BECOME A MAN!" He sobbed proudly at the giant poster of Ichigo's smiling mother and Yuzu began to weep too in a similar, but way less crazy, fashion at the idea that Ichigo had finally found happiness. Karin wore a look on her face that clearly said, 'Why am I related to these people? WHY?' since she was the only sane one. Ichigo used to be as well, but then he began stalking. Rukia was just confused, but masked it by slowly turning back to her dinner and continuing to eat.
Senna tiptoed around the kitchen, carefully making sure everything was as perfect as possible. She didn't want to upset her father tonight. She dreaded the days he came back from work. Senna couldn't remember if her father had ever been kind to her, or loved her, or tucked her in at night when she was a kid like most dads. Her father's way of showing affection was pretending that she didn't exist, something she was perfectly fine with. She slowly walked out of the kitchen carrying two bowls of miso soup and set them down quietly on two simple place mats. She sat down tensely and picked up her spoon as he began to down the soup. She sipped her soup softly, glancing repeatedly at her father through her eyelashes.
They finished the soup, and Senna cleared it away and brought out some Udon. They ate in silence and without incident, and Senna breathed again. She cleared the dishes away and stacked them on the counter to clean later, and moved to lock herself in her room, do her homework and not come out for the next 2-3 days. Turning, she saw her father in the doorway. "I'm going to do my homework." Senna said, with forced cheer and moved to the doorway to slide past him and to her freedom (her room). He grabbed her arm, and she winced. His grip was too tight and it hurt. "...You're hurting me." She said pointedly, dread pooling in her stomach. As the cruel hand slapped her face, and she fell to the floor, only to be yanked back up by her hair, all she could think was, But I was being so good.
Ichigo didn't bother with hiding in the trees tonight, instead he entered her bedroom window. Like a phantom, he quietly walked around the room. Something felt off. Ichigo glanced at the clock, and it read 8:30. Ichigo frowned. Senna should be doing her homework by now, but then Ichigo remembered it was Friday. She's probably taking a bath then. Ichigo decided and opened the door and strolled down the hallway, coming to a stop to the open and empty bath. Ichigo tensed when he realized that he didn't know where Senna was. He always knew where Senna was. Pointedly ignoring how utterly creepy that was, he whirled to the stairs when he heard a loud thump. Foreboding and fear flooded Ichigo's senses and he sprinted to the stairs and jumped them all, skidding on the rug as he navigated his way to the kitchen.
Senna had a streak of stubbornness and a strong will so when her father beat her, she had a tendency to fight back. Unfortunately, it didn't help matters much and usually made it worse. So when she brought her foot up and kicked him in the stomach in attempt for freedom, she instead found a hand wrapped around her throat, trapping her against the wall, and the other cuffing her head painfully. She struggled fruitlessly, gasping for breath, remembering a nonexistent time where she completely carefree and she got to spend her time with him. It was going dark now, Senna noted dully, tears pricking her eyes. That's good, he usually stopped after she passed out and stopped struggling.
Then...it stopped. The hand vanished, and the cuffing stopped and Senna slid to the floor like a ragdoll. She felt so weak, and she attempted to get up on jelly legs only to fall back down. She breathed deep, her throat aching and she had a feeling it might bruise. Again. She could hear yelling. Loud angry yelling and swearing and screaming. She pried open her eyes and the blurry image of her father shrieking and attempting to fend off a livid tall orange haired boy who looked like he was trying to kill him. His intense amber eyes were now alight with a terrifying fury and hatred, and one eye was turning black and gold as he lost himself in rage. His mouth was pulled back in a furious snarl, the aura surrounding him was wicked and enraged as it rained down in buckets. Senna was losing consciousness, and while she was better off without him and hated him with every fiber of her being, she knew she wouldn't forgive herself if she let her stalker/guardian angel/whatever the hell he was to her kill her father. It would haunt the poor guy for the rest of his life. Arm snapping out weakly, she tugged on his baggy black pants feebly. Her last sight before retreating into the darkness was a pair of desperate eyes, one light amber with white and one dark gold with black staring down at her, his mouth moving soundlessly.
"Senna. Senna! SENNA!"
A/N: Damn, Senna's life sucks huh? Hope I didn't make anyone too OOC. Review. Please? Pretty please :D