midsummer and supersymmetry
day 18
"I've watched old films while you were working, 50s neo-noir crime films, and yes, yes, Singing in The Rain, because you can't really appreciate the 50s without that-"
Most conversations between them are one-sided.
"-have you eaten breakfast before we left? I made pancakes-"
Mostly, it's her who talks–in a rough voice but not as loud, a domineering blend of power and femininity, and entirely regal in her own way. He doesn't forget: she came from an entirely regal family: beautiful and powerful and wealthy –like perfection in display.
"-butI think I forgot to add flour-"
Ichigo likes to look at her, and does not know how to describe her. A person's heart is as only as big as his clenched hand, a person's mind can stretch far before it snaps, a person's physical body has a biological end, so things like her, things –things that are never ending- can't possibly fit there, or accommodate it, or analyze it; because how do you start studying everything? He looks at her and he thinks of the limitation of his mind and the size of his heart, he looks at her and he thinks of the things that he knows: he feels so natural, he's sure, so ordinary, so normal around her. (maybe that's enough to describe her)
Rukia walks beside him, very pretty in thin white dress, her now short hair tousled –the summer wind blows more than lightly sometimes- she wears a brim hat to keep them in place and her ankle boots make no sound against the pavement. She walks slow, as he is. And her talks continue, more of silence-breakers than attempts at real conversations. This, as everything else about her, is fine with him.
The almond blossoms lining the streets are beginning to bud; the mid-morning pleasant sunlight draws out the kids to play and the cats to nap out in the sun-streamed alleyways and the adults to be productive; the string of downtown shops is as colorful as ever.
The local laundromat smells wholly of soapy fruits and flowers. The cafe –Ichigo is reminded of bagels and cream cheese and chocolate chips and brewed coffee- the cafe, Ichigo makes a mental note: maybe if Rukia wants, he could take her there for lunch after their chore. It's Saturday. And it's grocery day.
. . .
Ichigo stops at the chips and popcorns corridor, contemplating about his choice of tasty slow-killers while Rukia is in the frozen section.
He remembers: a black and white movie at 12 midnight; an empty tub of popcorn; a fur blanket. She likes simple things. Never grand, never expensive, so he takes tubs of gourmet popcorns (strawberry cheesecake for her and mint-chocolate for him.
He thinks of joining her in her late night movies.
(he's really been waiting for her to come back)