Ch 2. Rust Begins with Rain
In that dreaming world of his, Ichigo sees a familiar scene.
He was fighting with much difficulty as the shades of night fell all around him.
Granted, there were three of them, but they were nothing special, not the evolved, upgraded, hybridized species he had fought months before. They weren't even Menos. Nothing but plain old Hollows. And puny too.
He lashed wildly and struck aimlessly, the blade of his Zanpakutou dully cutting dense gray air. And then it began to rain, like it always would; it always seemed to rain at times like these, like the commencement of the familiar beat, a themed soundtrack to the hero igniting a fight.
Ichigo surely was no hero, but this certainly was his soundtrack, his theme. The rain, that is.
It started off as a pitter patter, and then increased, violently beating down like stones. Though an abundance of red streamed off the frayed ends of his shredded black kimono, his blood continued to enrobe his body like rust on an old, corroded ship. The bruises throbbed incessantly and his gashes scorched and chewed at him beneath his tattered clothes. As the hollows' attacks continued to rupture his body, her echoing words eroded at his heart.
Her stubborn resolve pained him more than the assaults of the enemies connecting.
With frenzied swings to the left and right, sometimes bringing the blade to a deafening clatter against the ground, he thought nothing of the targets, but absorbed his mind completely with her.
"Our different worlds separate us. But that is where we belong, respectively. I hope you know I will remember you well—despite the distance."
No good, he thought. Too distracted. His self-reminders, at self-preservation came out frittered. And though Zangetsu cried to him, his voice drowned beneath Rukia's departing words. The sword begged him to anticipate the next blow, and like the rest of his pleas, it rang out lost.
Ichigo hardly reacted when his nerves were jarred by the slash of claws at his back. And before he could decide upon the kind of pain he felt, he was colliding with the ground, suffering a dozen skin skimming revolutions before finally landing on his lacerated back. A kick, it seemed, came next. Possibly to the gut. He was not sure.
"He he he! Bratty Shinigami, you're much too easy. Where's your mind at?"
Another one piped in, "Are you fighting us both blind and deaf?"
"Oii, orange headed boy, are you love-struck, dumb or defeated? This ain't fun! Why don't we make a meal of you already?" heckled the third one.
A mistake. And it wasn't Ichigo's mistake.
Only a second after that last one spoke, did its body violently split into two, with its unnaturally colored blood spraying everywhere. Just like that, fury surged through Ichigo's veins, annihilating everything else, the pain, the despair, all of it, replaced entirely with pure animosity. "SHUT THE HELL UP YOU PIECES OF TRASH!"He hacked away at the second one, sometimes missing, sometimes connecting. And when he made contact, pieces of the Hollow came spewing out in the air. Ichigo stalked forward, crimson liquid forming rivulets off the sides of his face. The birdlike Hollow cowered off; it shrieked when the blade sliced off the last of its colossal talons. Its dismembered part flew past the shinigami's orange head. It wailed its last objection when the steel pierced through its mask and skull.
But Ichigo wasn't done. He continued to chop and cleave at the dissipating corpse. "WHAT DOES IT MATTER THAT YOU WILL REMEMBER ME WELL? WHEN I WILL LIVE MISERABLY HERE AND YOU OVER THERE? WHAT DOES IT MATTER? TELL ME, GODDAMMIT RUKIA! CAN'T WE BE SELFISH FOR ONCE?"The pelting rain answered him.
So did the third Hollow.
It was in an instant; he only had time to shift a little to his left, and the sharpness penetrated him, through muscle and sinew. He glanced at the object that protruded out to the right of his heart. He couldn't discern it for what it was: a Hollow's tail.
"Did you forget about me, kid? Now stay still, so I won't miss a second time."
His entire torso felt ripped, as the tail sharply withdrew. An ocean of red sprayed out. The bend of his knee came down, crashing onto concrete. The cold steel of Zangetsu's hilt remained tight in his grip, but he was rendered immobile, the tip of his blade impaling nothing but the ground. Ichigo could do nothing but await the second strike against him.
None came, but the screeching sound of metal against bone. Hollow bone.
In an instant, wet, sludgy matter sputtered across his backside.
His pain began to subside, and his mind started to clear—as clear it could possibly be with his body draining itself of blood.
The hilt of his sword still supported his weight.
Through numbness, he turned himself around. Saw clear rain flowing off the edge of her thin Zanpakutou. Then his view blurred once again, having only one good eye to peer from while the other was battered shut. Be it rain, sweat or blood, cold liquid dripped into his better eye and stung like hell. Yet it was okay, as long as he could pry it open wide enough for a glance, to glimpse the traces of her petite figure moving towards him.
So that he could believe it. That she really was there.
"Fool, this is not like you at all. You fool." It came out more pleading than admonishing. "Look at you; you're all torn up." Really? Hadn't he heard that one before?
"You can. Complain. To me. All you want. Later." This was all too familiar. Perhaps they were following the same script, with the circumstances changed. His violent cough jerked his entire body and blood spouted from his mouth.
"Ichi—"
"You came back." He finally let go of Zangetsu and rested the back of his head in her lap.
"You're being so foolish. So foolish. This isn't you."
He still managed to laugh. "Guess not." The words didn't complete his thoughts. He wanted to add, 'Not myself, not without you,' but exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he was too self-conscious even. Even then. He wasn't one used to warm words after all. Not the softer words.
The coldness dissipated. Her body was the source of heat in all that coldness. Her warmth now enveloped him.
Before the last of his consciousness checked out, he thought he felt warm rain on his face, it flowing down to the corners of his lips and leaving a salty taste in his mouth.
And then the gray turned to black.
"Ichigo. Ichigo. Ichigo."
"I'm listening, Zangetsu O'san."
"My job seems to be done, as well as yours."
"I'm sorry, O'san, please forgive my foolishness."
"As long as the rain stops falling, and it seems it has."
"Ah."
"It's okay to release your grip on the hilt. Let the blade rust a little. There is nothing more to defend against—at least for now."
"Ah. Farewell."
"Until then." The dark willowy figure walked off, the tail of his long coat billowing out. Halfway, the old man's silhouette paused for a moment and turned his head to the side. "Congratulations, Ichigo."
"Ah. Thank you." And he was gone.
Day always looked better after the rain. Things glistened. Reflections danced.
The rays of sun beamed bright and clear through the openings of the charcoal gray in the sky. That's how he woke up, with a view of Rukia at the foot of his bed, bathing in the golden translucence, her simple white dress glowing in the light. She was gazing out the bedroom window, a somber expression gracing her face. He studied the long dark lashes that fluttered with each blink she took. They were delicate like the rest of her being.
Ichigo shifted to a sitting position on the bed. The sound of his stirring did nothing to move her, except for her to speak without looking at him. "The new gigai feels a bit strange." He was speechless as he tried to catch onto the meaning of her words. "I'll just have to—adapt. Still, such amazing things that 'sandal and hat' guy can create."
"Rukia—you…."
"I can no longer go back. So you better not regret it."
"I…" He trailed. "Ofcourse. Course not."
"Where will we begin?"
He took a moment before answering. "I'm not sure, but we'll start off slow."
Ichigo pulls his wife into a tighter embrace, and dreams no more. Just imageless, restful slumber for now.
Autumn Surroundings—Interlude
The world drips in citrus colors, its autumn patterns wildly sprawling over gray paved concrete. Rukia sits amidst the scenery, prim and proper on the park bench, with hands folded neatly in her lap, her feet dangling a short distance from the ground. She kicks out her untied leather boots, trying to catch the loose leaves tumbling by. They slip through the spaces between her shoes and skim by when she is too slow.
Answering her sighs of defeat, a leaf falls onto her lap, one in the shape of a star; it matches Ichigo's hair color exactly, in both tone and hue. She wonders whose wounds he is mending right now, and whether he is tired or alone.
She tilts her wrist and reads the time off of the oval shaped face of her watch. The archaic needles point to half past four (she found more style in it than something digital).
How strange it still feels, to have the hours of day strapped to her thin left wrist. None of it would have fazed her four years ago. Then, she had thought it was all temporary, playing mentor to a surrogate shinigami until she regained her powers back, even forgetting that Soul Society had yet to pardon her from her crimes.
The things she had to learn, the reading, writing and arithmetic, she took them all in stride amongst other things, thinking she would have to abandon them anyway. She would discard her human shell along with the human feelings it contained, she had thought. But who knew about the things to follow? Who knew she would become so attached to this world and the boy who lived in it? Who knew, just after finding a sense of place in Soul Society that the other realm would call out to her? A family was found in her nii-sama, and her friendship with Renji renewed. She had made peace with the Shiba family and with her own memory of Kaien in the rain. Who knew, after all of that, that she would respond to the call, sacrificing everything she had just gained?
For the second time in her life, she risked it all—this time trading complacency for a chance at a relationship, with all their feelings certain yet uncertain. She found herself inhabiting earth again, not as a visitor, but a permanent resident, and came to the conclusion that she obviously would need to learn more than just reading, writing and arithmetic.
And with this world's rapid motion of time, the boy grew into a man, and she into a woman. Their undefined relationship, no longer could remain so. They defined it with matrimony, and so Ichigo took on the role of husband and Rukia the role of wife.
She regrets none of it.
The newness of everything still slams her, with her four years experience only managing to chisel away at the outer layers. There are a lot of things to learn, though struggling, she can do nothing but try to catch up.
She had made several attempts to help out in the clinic, but along with learning everything else, the medical tools and instruments overwhelmed her. Besides, she really wasn't needed. Both Karin and Yuzu still come by to help Isshin and Ichigo after school.
Ichigo never complains. He doesn't pressure her to find a job, to take up housekeeping; he simply understands and gives her all the time she needs to find her place in this world, as long as she knows one place exists by his side. He does not mind her wandering around while he continues on with the family profession.
But today in particular, she has run out of places to see, run out of things to gaze at, and decides to sit from across the park and watch the children play.
She regrets none of it.
But it doesn't mean those gnawing feelings stopped. Feelings of incompetence still creep in as much as the insecurities continue to pervade her mind.
End Chapter Two
AN: Sorry, my writing always deteriorates towards the end (evident in the first chap as well). By the time I get this far, I lose the patience to proofread. Anyhow, thanks for reading. Especially thanks for the feedback, because it's just so easy to be a silent reader (not that it's bad, but I would have no idea whether my writing really bores you or not).
--Oct 15, 2005
Akemi: thnx for being to first to review. Really it was encouraging after seeing all these hits but no comments!
Dark Grieveous: I will try not to let you down. And thnx for your words of encouragement.
Sousui: Lol! I had a mad grin after reading your review, particularly about the "they are acting like old hags" remark. I will try my best at helping Ichigo & Rukia in finding happiness!
amwonq88: I was worried whether their words and gestures were believable or not. U made me feel relieved. About the dullness, I'm still not sure myself. Perhaps it is the perception Renji wants to see, and/or the insecurities Rukia feels from struggling to adapt to the newer world.
Ori: Thank you for such a compliment (er..I hope that was a compliment). It's always a writer's dream to have a distinguishable trait in the way he or she writes, isn't it?
Chibi Dragon: Sorry I didn't indicate what was my update schedule was. I have now added it to the end of last chapter. Hopefully between 2 weeks to a month. I'm glad to have caused someone to grin!
bianca s: eyes wide You know where I live? Well bring me some cookies or something XD. Really glad you liked it!
ruukii: yup, hubby and wife. But by no means is their marriage gonna be "normal." Those violent two….
rukiaprincess: It's really such a great compliment to hear that one's writing is unique, especially when I see all these great Bleach fanfics and feel like I can't measure up.
hotaru: I made your day? YAY! Because usually I don't feel like I ever accomplish anything important! Appreciate that you left a comment.
Procrastinator-starting2moro: Mmn..orange and black haired dumplings...Now I'll dream about that too….XD
Danny-171984: I'm really grateful to have a constructive reviewer like you. I know what you mean about how people change, I'm glad you pointed that out—it's just that I didn't want reveal it yet---because I'm evil and don't like to give away fluffy stuff so easily. Hopefully this 2nd chap didn't disappoint.