Pucker Up
Five Promised
Fire: a visible, tangible side effect of matter changingform. In other words, it is a segment of a chemical reaction derived between oxygen in the atmosphere and a source of fuel.
Never, never compare love to fire. Ever!
Fire is always hungry. Fire lives to consume. It will eat everything in its path: wood, chemical, flesh, bone. Fire wants to eat. That's all it wants to do. Eat, eat, eat! The greedy bastard does not care about the things that it destroys, as long as it able to fulfill the perpetual craving.
Never compare love to fire.
Because love is kind. Love is gentle. It makes people happy, and is an essential for the health of all living organisms. If ever love must be compared to something, then compare it to sunshine. Sunshine may be harsh in the heat of summer, but it is never greedy and it is never selfish.
Sunshine may burn, but it will never destroy.
Ichigo was fairly satisfied with himself. He had successfully protected everyone that day. Sure he was a little banged up— a few deep lacerations here, a whale-shaped bruise there— but that was why Ichigo was the protector and they were the protected.
That was the Law: protect everyone he could no matter the cost and then somehow survive. A genuine routine indeed.
So as long he was alive and knew that he had done well to protect his comrades, Ichigo could sit back, scowl while Rukia cleaned the wound on his forearm, and pretend that the salve did not sting like a bitch.
Rukia pressed the salve against his bleeding arm, sponging up rivers of red. She held it there calmly, silently, while his arm was ignited wrist to elbow in a sweltering heat. He clenched his fists, glowered at the floor, and swore that he would not so much as wince.
Rukia frowned. "Idiot, I told you not to be so reckless."
Don't wince.
If he winced then he might as well a say, 'Rukia, you were right all along.' Maybe, just maybe, she had been a little bit right, but the hollow was dead. Everyone was safe. That was the important part.
So do not wince.
"Whatever, I saved your ass again because of it."
Rukia made no reply. She lifted the gauze. The bleeding had stopped somewhat. The wound was swollen around the edges and a sticky red film had begun to form. It was definitely going to leave a scar.
"Promise me something?"
"Depends."
She pressed the gauze once more on his arm with a much lighter pressure. Ichigo's fingers twitched but he did not flinch. It still hurt.
"Don't die without me."
He looked at Rukia sideways. "What?"
"If you're going to be reckless, then promise me we'll go together." She wore a determined expression. "Die, I mean, together. At the same time."
Whoever said that a woman had no idea what she was doing, had never met Rukia. Rukia knew exactly what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was saying. Her words were not just frivolous romance antics.
This was Rukia's way of saying, 'I care so don't die,' but it was also her weird way of manipulating him. Yes, manipulating him for his own well being.
Because if he died then she would have to die too, and that would violate Ichigo's Law of Protect-Everyone-No-Matter-What. It also meant that if she died, then Ichigo would have failed to protect her, a taboo in itself. This left Ichigo with only one option: to stay alive and protect despite all conflict.
Rukia was fully aware that if she made him promise, he would have to follow through. When a promise was made, it was made to his soul. Another law: always keep promises. So to make sure that Ichigo did not die, Rukia would make him promise that they would die together.
Crazy, manipulating little witch.
"Fine, we'll go together, but you have to quite worrying."
Rukia smiled. "That's out of the question. " She wrapped carefully bandaged the wound, winding strips of white linen around the wound. She was firm, but not unkind.
When she was finished, she kissed him on the cheek. "That would be asking me not to care." Rukia did not linger long. Instead, she gathered up the extra gauze and salves, advised him to rest, and left him alone in the room.
As he laid back in bed, settling under the covers, he stared at the ceiling. The clatter of rain filled his ears. Tears drizzled down the window. Outside, a lonely tree swayed in the wind.
Reaching up with his uninjured hand, he touched the spot on his cheek where a tiny bit of warmth remained. As he began to doze off, Ichigo smiled.
How did that song go again?
Oh, yeah.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…
The job was done. Everyone was safe. It was time to rest.
A/n: I probably could have done something else with the sunshine thing, but I had a bit of writer's block. Thanks to the great Al May and her prompt (fire), I was able to overcome it. Thanks Al May, thanks reviewers!