Title: Nameless
Character: Kuchiki Rukia
Pairing: Onesided Kuchiki Rukia x Kon
Author: tasogaretaichou
Rating: PG
Prompt: Without a name
Warnings: Nothing really objectionable
Summary: It's hard to justify your feelings when you don't even really have an identity.

He knew she never noticed. And really, why would he have expected her to? To her, he was insignificant. A sidekick, a "mascot" even. Nothing but a loud mouth and loud attitude, forever trapped inside a casing of fluff and plush. That was what he was to everyone. A stuffed toy, an annoyance. They didn't see him as a person, not someone like them.

It hadn't really occurred to him at first, how unimportant he was, how much there was of the world -- the world he belonged to -- that he simply couldn't take part in. He'd been to preoccupied, too caught up in the simple joys of actually getting to live , in spite of what he'd spent so long fearing -- the destruction of everything that made him who he was -- to realize that even this, even this life he had been given... wasn't a real life. It was a shadow life, a hinted wisp of something he had once dreamed of.

And even then, he'd simply stood back and accepted it. Been grateful for the chance to live, grateful to Ichigo and the others for the way they'd taken him in, kept that sandaled git from simply disposing of him as he'd planned. "Unsuitable merchandise", huh? Well, he had a few things to say to that man, if he ever got the chance. Like how it felt to spend your life -- if what he'd had could have been called a "life" -- being told, knowing that you were considered a mistake, something subpar that didn't deserve the life it was given.

He'd been happy, honestly happy the first time Ichigo had trusted him to take care of his body while he went and did those big important shinigami things that Kon couldn't ever really be a part of. He couldn't fight -- despite what he'd been created for -- , he couldn't roam freely around the town, he couldn't even eat whatever he wanted to do. But none of that had really bothered him. At least... not until he realized something else he couldn't do.

Kon couldn't love.

Not to say that he couldn't feel those same soft emotions towards someone. He could. But in his case... it didn't matter. Because even if it had been someone other than the petite shinigami companion of his "owner", he couldn't ever act on those things. He was... nothing. A modified soul, little more than a glorified battery when you really got down to it. And that was the only way she would ever see him.

It was tempting, sometimes, to take advantage of the times when Ichigo -- rarely now, since he had that damned badge -- allowed him use of the body, allowed him time out of his plush prison, to tell her. To do something, say something. Anything, really, to make her notice him. In fact, he'd almost put that plan into action one day after he'd seen how close Ichigo managed -- accidentally of course -- to get to her. That would work, he'd thought. Take advantage of the teen's body, use it to get close to her and then sweep her off her feet with his charm, his wit, his feelings.

And then he'd seen it. The single thing that sent his hopeful castle of cards crashing down. The flush on her cheeks as she shoved Ichigo off of her while he complained loudly that he hadn't meant to get that close, and it sure wasn't his fault she was short enough to trip over. And amidst his flash of anger at the way Ichigo always spoke to Rukia, Kon could feel a cold pit form in the center of his furry body. Not at the words being spoken, but at what wasn't being spoken. At what he could see, shielded beneath walls barely thick enough to contain it. The way she looked at him, the way his jaw set slightly when she got a bit too close. The way he could faintly see her breathing pick up slightly. And he knew. Knew then that it would never matter what he did, never amount to anything. Even were he to use Ichigo's body, to scream and cry and beg, to plead for someone to notice him, it would never happen. She wouldn't see him, she'd see Ichigo.

Because Kuchiki Rukia's eyes were only for the orange-haired boy. And a nameless mod-soul like himself... would never have stood a chance.