Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bleach characters. They belong to the great Tite Kubo.
A/N: I forgot to update.
Please Read and Review. Drop a small little note in the reviews section. :)
Chapter Four - Improptu Appearance
"Schubert?" Rukia looked at the piano sheets in front of her desk.
"Yes," Unohana-san answered. "Schubert."
Improptu Op.90 No. 2. Rukia gulped, looking at the music sheets in fear. Unohana smiled at her pupil's look of terror. "I trust you can play it."
Her fingers flew on the piano keys, possessed by Schubert. Tiny frame grew delighted by each note she played. She ignored the doorbell; the mailman dropping off a few letters. She ignored the phone; a call from the accountant looking for her mother. She ignored her whole world; Rukia too free to be tied down to reality.
Schubert was no match for her thoughts on a certain orange hair young man. Two weeks had gone by without news from him. It was better this way. Kurosaki-san. Kurosaki Ichigo. Ichigo. Shaking the name from her thoughts, wrapping herself around the last notes of the song, slamming her piano shut. "Ah!"
Out of breath; the song had gone to her head. Making her way to the window, she opened the shutters. People walked on the sidewalk, going about their business freely. Her small hand wrapped around the black metal bar, keeping her inside. She was no different than a caged bird.
"Hello."
Standing on the sidewalk in front of her window was- "Ichigo!"
"Calling me by my first name eh?"
Rukia could not help her blushing. "Don't think too much of it," she answered tartly.
"Don't you ever open windows-"
Rukia's eyes widened with fear, closing the shutters without another word.
"-in your house?" Ichigo finished. Walking over to the window, both hands gripping the bars, he heard the scolding voice of a woman calling Rukia's name.
Rukia moved away from the window quickly.
"You where on your way to the window?" Mrs. Kuchiki asked her daughter.
"No, not at all," Rukia denied.
"You look a bit flushed."
"Too much Schubert."
Mrs. Kuchiki walked to the window where Rukia had been standing previously. Rukia's whole body shook as her mother inched closer and closer to the window. Nervously, she bit her lip almost drawing blood from her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "...ah..."
Her mother opened the window; Rukia's world fading to black.
"Rukia?" It was Isane's voice, soft and caring. "Rukia?"
Tap, tap, tap. It was her mother's right foot waiting for her to come around.
Her nose scrunched up at the intense smell of alcohol, her hand pushing the cotton ball away.
"Oh, thank heavens!" Isane exclaimed.
"Silly girl." Her mother was scornful as always. "Too much Schubert indeed."
Rukia found herself on the two-seater, her head throbbing from where her head had made contact with the little round table near the armchair. Mrs. Kuchiki left the sitting room to Hisana's room where her older sister waited to hear about Rukia.
As soon as her mother crossed the threshold, Rukia gripped Isane's arm. "Ichigo was outside the window!"
"Calling him by his first name, eh?" Rukia could almost faint again, Isane smiling that teasing smile of hers.
"So, he was by your window, I see."
Rukia looked at Isane, her suspicions rising. "How does he know where I live?"
Isane didn't say a word, sticking the cotton ball under Rukia's nose. Rukia pulled away from the pugnant smell.
"How could you tell him where I live?"
Isane stood up, hands on her hips. "Don't you look at me like that! Besides, weren't you happy he was here to see you? So happy, you fainted!"
Her hands covered her face, unwilling to show the emotions that had now become resident of her heart.
Hisana clasped her hands, "I have to meet Kurosaki-san!"
Rukia shook her head, sitting cross-legged on her sister's bed. If Ichigo ever crossed the Kuchiki's threshold, her mother would make sure he would never cross it ever again. Ever.
"Why not?" Hisana stuck out her bottom lip, resembling a three year old child that had been denied a sweet.
"Mother."
"Oh." Hisana saw her little sister's downcast expression, fighting whether her situation was better this way or not. "Mother would never allow it..."
A bitter smile crossed Rukia's innocent lips. "No..."
Picking up her used paintbrushes, she walked over to the basin being occupied by Hinamori Momo. The two attended the same school, except Momo was in a different class than hers. Like Rukia's mother, Mrs. Hinamori liked her daughter to apply herself in the arts. Where Hinamori excelled academically, Rukia did in the arts.
"You where perfect yesterday!" Momo praised her. "You played Schubert to perfection!"
"Thank you," Rukia answered humbly, her eyes looking down at the basin, its water green from the paintbrush Momo was cleaning.
"I wish my mother would let me quit piano. I just have no talent for it!"
"Nonsense, I thought you played wonderfully."
"Really?"
Rukia nodded encouragingly. "You get better everyday, Momo."
Elated, Momo wiped her paintbrushes and was off to her place in the classroom. Bored and not enthusiastic to return to her canvas, Rukia took her brush and painted her hand blue. The paintbrush gently caressed her hand, blue rivers running on every line of her palm.
"What are you doing?"
Rukia stepped back in surprise, Ichigo peering from the window. Her head turned back to see all six students from her class, including her teacher too preoccupied to care that someone was looking through the class window. She turned her attention to address him.
"What are you doing here!"
"I wanted to see you."
Had he been looking at her through that window for the past two weeks? The thought embarrassed her. Ichigo looking at her as she painted, eyes lost in her canvas, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Her lips pouting when she had curved her paintbrush the right way, her nose crinkling if she was unsure of what she was doing.
"Leave."
"Not without your number." Ichigo was pressing his luck.
Rukia answered smugly, "I don't have a cellphone." Her smugness disappeared however. How many seventeen year old girls like herself didn't have a cellphone? Not having one sounded pathetic. She could kill herself.
"You can have my number." He slipped a paper through the window, prepared for Rukia's rejection. He waited for her to take the slip, which Rukia took indifferently.
"I'm not going to call you," she let him know.
He shrugged, "Doesn't matter." Like the blue paint trickling down from her hand into the drain, Ichigo was gone.
Her eyes darted to the phone in the hall that evening after class. There it was, just calling out to her. Her fingers itched to call. Her fingers that had traced every number slowly, remembering every curve of his flashy handwriting.
Her hand held the receiver, her ear heard the humming dial tone.
"What are you doing?"
She slammed the receiver, hiding the slip of paper in her clenched fist. "Nothing."
Isane's finger wagged naughtily. "Oh, really?"
Isane pulled her wrist, Rukia pulled back. The two wrestled for a time, Isane prying Rukia's fingers open. "Ah ha!"
"Let's call him."
"No!"
Isane picked up the receiver and dialed as if heaven and earth depended on it. Rukia protested in vain.
A phone call? He wasted no time to dig for his cellphone in the pocket of his jeans. "Hello?"
There was no answer. He tried once more.
"Hello? Rukia?" Ichigo heard two voices arguing in the background, which he recognized as Isane's and Rukia's.
"Come on!"
"You where the one who dialed!"
"Take the phone!"
"Isane!" This one was another voice in the background, faint but very demanding it brought chills to Ichigo.
The line went dead.
Mrs. Kuchiki saw Isane and Rukia by the house phone, Isane slamming the phone in an instant. It raised her suspicions greatly.
Rukia shivered in fear.
"What are the both of you doing by the phone?"
"A prank call, ma'am." Isane answered politely.
"I didn't hear the phone ring?"
Rukia's fear stricken face went from pale white to sick. Isane answered bravely. "I am sorry for lying, ma'am. I was calling my younger sister in Karakura."
Mrs. Kuchiki was a cop. "You couldn't have waited until Sunday?"
Rukia's stomach clenched horribly. Isane bit her tongue before answering. "It could not wait, Kuchiki-san. It was an emergency."
"Emergency?" Mrs. Kuchiki turned to see her daughter stricken with dizzyness. "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling faint?" Rukia gave her no response, face white as a sheet of paper. "Don't just stand there! Get a glass of water, silly girl!"
Rukia shuffled to the kitchen, Kurosaki will be my undoing.