Redlight District
Kurosaki Ichigo bounded awake, gasping for breath, arms flailing to grasp something that was just out of his reach. He sighed grimly as he examined the imprint of his fingers digging into his arm.
Again.
It was the same dream again, plaguing his mind, engulfing his senses with an impalpable fear. Ichigo ignored the insidous darkness that rose instinctively as he gripped his head tightly.
What the fuck was that?
He scrambled for the name that was just at the tip of his tongue, but yet it stubbornly evaded his grasp.
'Ria? Reina?' He probed, rolling the words experimentally around his mouth—it just felt off. 'Reiko?' It was so tantalizingly close and yet it seemingly felt like he was grasping at droplets of sand on the beach, as they crumbled through his outstretched fingers, despite his vise-like grip.
Like he was standing at the precipice of a deep abyss of something and yet—and yet—he just had this unspeakable feeling that he was forgetting or losing something.
Yeah, Ichigo, the rational voice within him taunted. The only thing you're losing here is your mind.
The words sounded like a garbled mess that just sounded wrong. He had the words but he just lacked the connection to make them fit.
Ichigo threw himself backwards, clutching his head. What in the seven hells had he been doing?
Take deep breaths, he coached himself. Remind yourself of who you are.
'Okay,' he grumbled out loud, voice sounding raspy hoarse and far too loud in the utter silence of his room. He looked around—since when had his room been this big?
And lonely, his mind added. As if something was missing. Or someone.
Baka, he chatised himself. It's one in the fucking morning. What the hell did you expect? Your dad to dive into the room and try to kill you?
Ichigo snorted. He wouldn't put it past his idiotic father to make a valiant attempt to kill him in his sleep. Nevermind that his all previous tries had failed—that bastard simply continued on with his antics. It probably made him all the more fired up instead.
And he dismissed the niggling feeling that it wasn't a problem that could be solved that simply.
Glancing idly at his clock, he sighed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he was just tired of this.
Everything, his mind supplied.
Isshin had taught him this when the dreams had started. Even though he couldn't believe that he was taking advice from his dad of all people, they did work. To a certain extent. The first time he had sprung out of bed, awoken from that dream, Isshin had found him trembling, curled up on his bed, with his head buried in his hands.
It wasn't that it was a nightmare—far from it. It had just been so real, that he could stretch out his hand and touch the grainy images that had flickered in his mind, flashes of a life, of people he didn't know and had never met before. Yet, it just felt so damn familiar…
Like you had gone through it before, the unspoken words were crystal clear even in the silence.
'Okay,' he grumbled, unwilling to go through the motions, but secretly glad that this was something he knew. The familiar pattern, the way a faded worn shirt fitted snugly on his frame.
This was familiar, this was comfortable, this was something he could cope with—not that there was anything he couldn't.
'Easy. Start small,' he muttered to himself. 'My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. Age 24. Occupation: paediatrician. Side job: moonlighting as a death reaper. Taught by idiotic father on how to send ghosts to purgatory. Or whatever hell that's on the other side.'
His vague murmurings soon faded into silence as he surrendered himself to the waiting embrace of sleep.
And the faded scent of sakura blossoms permeaded the air with its fragrance.
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It was a few insipid hackneyed lines but he just couldn't fucking say it. Three stupid words, three fucking syllables. And he couldn't bring himself to say it before it got caught in his throat.
It was what normal people said to other people. Nothing exceptional or out of the ordinary. Just that it were so frickin' hard to say that he wondered how anybody else accomplished this feat of colossal magnitude.
And if he was like any other normal guy (from his limited experience culled from the various soap opera dramas that Yuzu and Karin forced him through—he was pretty sure they traumatized him for life), he would choose a normal nice high-class restaurant, pull out her chair, present her with a red rose and tell her that he loved her.
And this would happen all while the sun as if following some magical clockwork timetable planned out by Corny Guy A, would set in the background illuminating the barely concealed joy on both of their faces. Cue their joyful run in the setting sun, and more importantly holding hands, before proceeding to their happy ending where they would all live happily ever after.
Fuck that.
He barely passed for a normal guy. To be honest, what kind of guy saw ghosts and had a perverted dad who encouraged his offspring to have sex? While she definitely did not pass for a normal girl (even without her height and her tendency to kick other people—namely him—in the shins).
And even if he did bring her to a normal restaurant like any other normal people (and it was not a date, definitely not a date), she would most probably do absurd things like poke him in the leg with the butter knife like the last time he had the crazy idea to bring her out. And that had been the least painful mistake that she had made.
And if he made a move to pull out her chair or do anything remotely resembling a gentleman, she would most likely throw a hissy fit and think that he was underestimating her abilities to do things for herself. Either that or she would probably kick him (again) or worse, laugh her head off which was more than he could bear and which happened the last time he tried.
Ichigo buried his head in his hands, decided that this was not going where he thought it was going and made a mental note to himself to ask Ishida where he brought Orihime for his first non-date when he confessed.
He pushed Yamamoto's assignment to the recesses of his mind. He could deal with that later.
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Rukia didn't know what she was doing there. She was with a heavily drunk Orihime, a passed out Matsumoto and Tatsuki who looked like she was intent on world domination. Not to mention a forlorn Chizuru who was disconsolate over the loss of Orihime's single status and intent on drinking herself to death.
All in all, it looked as if it was going to be a wonderful night.
First, it had been merely a little thing—something that Tatsuki had raised on their girls' night out, before it had snowballed into a list of problems that rose in their separate relationships.
And with all the alcohol that Chizuru (who had still not gotten over her absurd crush on Orihime and with every word that fell from her mouth about Ishida, looked like she was getting stabbed in the heart) provided, the evening proved to be very interesting.
For one, it gave her hidden insight into all of their relationships—Orihime's complain was that despite all his sharp edges and cold demeanour (Rukia was still suffering from sub-degree chills from being in the same room with both Hitsugaya and Ishida at the same time), he was too gentle in his love-making.
Rukia stifled a grin behind a strategically positioned glass of sake. Ishida—gentle? This was going to be some great blackmail material if Ishida started spouting all the crap about Quincy's strength and might again.
'He's always too cautious,' slurred an obviously intoxicated Orihime. 'Even when he's…' Her enormous bosom heaved up and down in her intensity.
Rukia tuned her out. Even after massive amounts of alcohol, she still didn't think she woud be able to stand to hear the extent of the Quincy's ineptitude when it came to sex; and she fluttered her eyelashes coyly at a random guy sitting across the bar counter.
He almost fell off his stool in his excitement.
She giggled to herself, revelling in her newfound powers. There was omething vaguely wrong about this scenario but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. After half a dozen various cocktails, even discussing the size of Renji's reproductive organs…
'Wait, Renji?' She blurted out now, interrupting Tatsuki's impassionate speech about how Renji's lack of romance was singlehandedly destroying their relationship. 'I thought we were talking about Ishida.'
'Pfft, Ishida,' Tatsuki waved off dismissively. 'Who cares about him? Although he is tons better than Renji.'
Orihime swelled with ill-concealed pride, and prepared to launch into another extensively long list of Ishida's good traits before being cut off artfully by Tatsuki.
Thank the gods, thought Rukia with a sigh of relief. She didn't think she could bear Chizuru's dejected glances at Orihime anymore.
'Speaking of which,' hiccuped Matsumoto, lifting her head off the table with an effort. 'What—hic—about Ichigo? All of them have talked—hic—about their boyfriends already except you.'
Trust Matsumoto to remember these things even when she was drunk as a fish.
'Yeah,' chimed in Chizuru, eager to get off the topic off Ishida. 'Tell us about the sex.'
All of a sudden, the thought of talking about Ishida for the next hour or so seemed very interesting… Either that or thinking about the various ways she could kill Matsumoto and Chizuru slowly and satisfyingly.
Rukia sent a death glare at the both of them. 'Nothing much.'
'There's nothing much to tell, or the sex was not worth mentioning?' probed Matsumoto. 'Although I never thought Ichigo would be that bad, with his giant zampakuto and all.'
'Yeah,' piped up Orihime, perking up at the subject of Ichigo's inability to pull through. 'He did get voted second in the list of guys we wouldn't mind going to sleep—'
'I knew it!' Matsumoto announced triumphantly. 'No one could have such a big-ass zampakuto without going wrong somewhere! Maybe he's commitment shy? Or does he have some problems there? I have some aphrodisiac that can improve it! I guarantee after use, you won't be able to stand straight for a month—'
'No,' cut off Rukia. She didn't even want to know where Matsumoto got her ideas from. 'The sex is great.'
Mindblowingly fantastic, her mind supplied. But what they don't know won't hurt them.
'But…?' Matsumoto let her voice trail off suggestively. She had a scary way of sensing when there was trouble in paradise.
Rukia groaned. Since when had the subject turned to her??? Although with Matsumoto around, she could have made even Aizen spill all the juicy details of his love life within an hour. And she had always suspected that he was secretly gay. Why else would he keep Gin and Grimmjow around otherwise?
'What?!' Chizuru added her voice to the ruckus. 'You're not together? I thought that Ichigo would have made a move long ago. How long does it take to tell a girl you like her anyway?'
Rukia grimaced. She should have known better and kept her mouth shut. Even if time didn't matter to her as a dead shinigami, it was still kind of pathetic when she realised that she had been pining after a boy for 9 straight years.
Not kind of. Really pathetic. Even to herself.
And he still didn't know that she kind of—maybe—really liked him.
Fuck. This conversation with herself was getting more and more awkward when confronted with 3 inquisitive faces. Not counting Chizuru who was still getting steadily drunker. And who had no interest in this conversation as it did not concern two naked females in a sack.
Ah well. Thank god for small favors. One less person to laugh at her miserable non-existent love life.
Now, time to make a fool out of herself. What an absolutely fantasatic way to round up the evening.
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And that's how Rukia found herself pouring out all her problems with Ichigo—how he was only with her for the sex and how she missed him even when she was with him.
Orihime and Matsumoto who only wanted to find out how far their sex life had proceeded so that they could compare notes, enthusiastically plied her with more drinks and chased after her when she tried to escape their intense questioning.
'What you should do, Rukia,' advised Matsumoto, 'is to tell him that you love him.'
'I don't love him!' exclaimed Rukia, horrified. 'I'm only with him for the sex!'
'Pssht,' waved off Matsumoto dismissively. 'You certainly didn't wait for him nine years just because you were in like with him!'
'Yeahhh,' Chizuru lifted her head up blearily. 'I'm reeeeally sure when God told man to go forth and sow their seed, they weren't advocating pre-maritial sex.' She grinned drunkenly before sliding to the floor by the inexorable force of gravity.
Rukia glanced at the unconscious form of Chizuru before launching back into the conversation. Both Orihime, Tatsuki and Matsumoto were all up in arms about Rukia's apparent 'betrayal of her feminity' (definitely Orihime) by 'not proclaiming her love' (Tatsuki) to the 'masculine gift of raw sexuality that God has seen fit to grace the earth' (Matsumoto).
'Honestly, what's with the constant references to God anyway??? We're shinigami for God's sake!!!' Rukia drained back another glass of wine. She needed more liquor if she wanted to get through this evening alive.
'You realise you just contradicted yourself?' Matsumoto interrupted with an evil grin.
'I hate you, Matsumoto,' Rukia gritted out from behind clenched teeth.
'Just tell him!!! What harm can it do?'
'I'm only with him for the sex!' Rukia clawed at her head. She could sense a massive headache incoming prayed for strength. 'And I reserve the right to have my own privacy!'
There was a sudden silence and Rukia lifted her head from her buried arms. 'What—'
And she saw the man in question standing at the door of the bar. Added on to the fact that said gift of raw sexuality had been unfortunately heading her way when she was pleading guilty to the third amendment, and you got Rukia's current predicament.
She saw an unmistakably fleeting glimpse of pain before his usual arrogant smirk slammed back into place.
'Ichigo—'
'I'll just leave you two lovebirds to yourselves!' Matsumoto broke in jovially. 'Orihime's bringing Chizuru home!'
'Ehhh?' Orihime shrieked. 'But I—'
Rukia felt a slight twinge of pity for the buxom girl—she would probably be groped by Chizuru even before they were out of the pub. Although considering Chizuru's state of intoxication, she probably wouldn't have the strength to try anything. In theory that is.
'Ichigo—' She stood up from the counter seat—who knew that these seats were so high?—before he caught her. Like she knew he would. After all, he had never let her fall so why would this be any different?
'Hey—' She found herself swept up and slung over his back when she was in the midst of her thoughts. 'Let me down!'
'No way, midget,' Ichigo grimaced as one of her well-timed kicks nailed him in the face. 'Oi!'
'Sheesh,' Rukia relaxed as he began the walk home, knowing that any struggle would be to no avail. He wouldn't allow her to walk home the ground was really far away. 'You know you just caused my whole dream of being carried bridal-style to be razed to ashes?'
Ichigo grunted. 'I'm pretty sure that the Grimm brothers weren't thinking about you specifically when they wrote Cinderella.'
'Asshole.' She elbowed him in the head. That was the only part of his anatomy that she could reach anyway.
'Bitch.' He rubbed his head and scowled. 'This is what I get when I come out and get you? Ungrateful midget.'
'Speaking of which, how did you know where to find us?' Rukia wondered out loud.
'I went to look for you when you weren't back and Dad said that you went for a drink with friends. And this was the only pub around.'
She winced a little when she recalled what happened when he entered. 'Ichigo, you know, at the pub, I—'
'It's fine,' Ichigo cut her off. He wasn't sure that he wanted or dared to hear any explanation she could offer.
'I—' She was cut off by a harsh oath before he twisted her around and she yelped as she fell into his hands.
'What the—' She was silenced by his lips on hers as he invaded her hot orifice with his tongue. Fuck, he was causing her to lose her train of thought especially when their tongues battled for dominance.
She wondered hazily what she had been talking about before he glided his skillful tongue through her teeth to nip her bottom lip and she decided that it didn't matter. All that existed now was him and only him.
Her hands found purchase in his hair and she tugged forcefully, trying to meld his body to hers as he groaned—a deep guttural vibration that emanated from his lips to her toes. He poured out her unleashed passion and raw lust into that one kiss as if the world was ending and she was the one thing that chained him to the ground.
She could feel—she could feel his heart trembling below her hand as he cradled her towards him.
Ichigo tore his lips off her and grinned at her rapid breathing. 'Thought you would have gotten used to that already, midget.'
Rukia flushed red as he slung her over his shoulder again before kicking him in the abdomen.
He lurched in his step before regaining his balance. 'Fuck, Rukia, I almost dropped you!'
'I never wanted to be carried in the first place,' was her self-righteous response.
Idiotic midget, he decided. Except that another reason to carry her was so that she couldn't see the anguish in his eyes whenever he thought about the way she could so easily deny this messed-up situation that was their relationship.
And they thought that it was the men who were the ones with the commitment issues. A laugh broke out from behind his clenched teeth. If this had been a Korean drama serial, it couldn't have been more hilarious.
He could have laughed at the amount of time he had spent obsessing over how to tell her something that she didn't even want to hear in the first place.
He didn't need to tell her that anymore but what struck him was how he didn't know how much he wanted to tell it to her. The bile that rose up in the back of his throat almost nauseated him.
Ichigo sighed, glad that Rukia had fallen asleep somewhere along the long walk back. Well, at least knowing that would make Yamamoto's assignment a hell of a lot easier.
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A/N: Please don't kill me for not updating for so long!!! It's just that I have an important exam coming up and I totally havent been studying. I hope Ichigo isn't too OOC, is he???
I had this planned out way in advance but never got around to actually penning it down! And I forgot how much I love to write. So anyway, this story is going to be pretty much fluctuating between the past and present! The ones in italics are his memories from the past!
Thanks so much to goku's daughter, kaiserkawaii, Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky, Firisu and KuroiTsuki7 for reviewing!
Please tell me what you think!
-zenithoflife