Ch 3. Pink Lines, and Looking Back Yet Again
AN: Warning! If you aren't up to date with the latest manga chaps then some details won't make sense, and if it does, then you've been spoiled!
Her long auburn tresses manifest copper hues in departing sunlight. It sways against her backside as she treads the familiar roads leading towards Karakura suburbia. A middle-aged man and a youth step out of a closing bookshop ahead of her; the older man leers at her breasts and nudges the adolescent's side. Concluding they must be father and son, she pauses mid-step. The son has already taken more than a peek and now joins his old man in gawking.
Ogling women. Parent-child bonding. Surely a morbid combination.
She plants both feet firmly on the ground and gives them a firm look, her focus penetrating their bodies into enough discomfort that they shift their eyes down to stare at their polished shoes. She looks fixedly for a full minute before she turns to continue on her route.
The dissolving daylight guides her until she reaches the residential area of town. The last rays die beneath gray clouds and the streetlights flicker on before the sky completely darkens. With impeccably good timing, she whips out the champagne colored umbrella and raises it above her head just as the first raindrop bounces off the vinyl. In her quickened pace, the hem of her floral patterned skirt swooshes against her ankles.
Nostalgia floods her as the rain begins to flood the streets.
She can't help but stop again, a few houses away from her appointed destination, in front of the old clinic where her brother breathed his last and where the boy she had pined over used to live.
In fact, the small ache remains.
And quite possibly, she still loves him.
In one instance, though brief and fleeting, Inoue Orihime had thought her feelings were reciprocated.
Come to think of it, sudden and merciless rain poured that night too.
Rain was getting into her eyes but she saw clearly enough to assess the situation. A strong enemy had her pinned. Far away, Kuchiki-san who lay in a heap of shattered ice, her sword's transformation broken, was held captive by a foe of her own. And Kurosaki-kun, with that weary look plastered on his usually confident face, stood torn in the middle.
Who would he save first, knowing each girl was equally close to that final blow?
Of course, she thought, of course he would save Kuchiki-san first. Orihime didn't mind it really. It was expected. She was a comrade while Kuchiki-san was something different. Something more substantial.
Kuchiki-san was the one who changed his world.
Powers collapsed, back against the wall, she dropped her hand off of her bloody left shoulder. Both arms hung limply by her sides and cold rainwater trickled down, mixing with the warmth of her blood. Resolve slowly overcame her and the pains were no more.
She was watching the enemy's sword coming down at her now---its blade lustrous as it hit a particular angle in the moonlight. She would accept her death now, without trembling, knowing she gave it the good fight and that she wasn't dying in vain.
Softly, she closed her eyes.
She heard the thousand drops of rain fall around her. She heard the howls of the wind.
And she heard the rustling of wet cloth before her. Softly she opened her eyes to the sight of his broad back.
"Don't give up yet, Inoue," he huffed over his shoulder, his monster sized blade interlocked with the enemy's.
He had come to her! She was his first choice to save after all! His voice confirmed it. She couldn't stop the tears anymore; they brimmed over with the rain.
Almost immediately, she thought how selfish, how absurd! At a time like this, she wasn't supposed to feel joy. What about Kuchiki-san? Kuchiki-san!
Whether or not Kurosaki-kun exchanged dialogue with the opposition, she did not notice. Even the clanging of metal failed to reach her. She could only narrow her eyes to focus on the small body in the distance. She watched the other girl's sword break into two. But that didn't matter; the fatal blow had been deflected. Just barely. However, the adversary wasn't defeated yet, he only seemed more inclined to attack. He even seemed to change his approach this time. Instead of delivering with finality, the villain drew shallow slices across Kuchiki-san's body teasingly.
Orihime clenched her fists, the burning sensations returning to her fingers. She demanded to fight again.
Kuchiki-san, you mustn't die!
When her body betrayed her, both knees dropping to the ground, Orihime thought she would drag them. Move! Move! Move!
"RUKIA!" burst Kurosaki-kun's voice. It didn't take long for him to reach the fallen Shinigami, blocking the next attack with his own sword. Orihime was still half-crawling-half-walking towards them, passing by the defeated corpse of her former foe. The clashing Zanpakutous up ahead created sparks, bringing flittering light around them, even in the rain.
It was really taking so long to get there; the furious increase in Kurosaki-kun's spirit pressure made it even harder for her to reach them.
Move! Move! Move!
"You…? Inoue…"
"Kuchiki-san, don't move too much. I'm going to heal you."
A faint smile played across her pale face. "But you don't look any better than I do."
"Don't worry. I can still heal you in this condition." Orihime had a faint smile of her own. Quietly, she added, "I guess my will to heal will always be greater than my will to fight." Orihime's eyes were still moist from her tears and Kuchiki-san must have noticed the gleam in them.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about. But thank you."
"It's alright. Just hang in there."
Time passed with no indication. In the midst of her great concentration, only the sounds of rain made her aware of her surroundings. Persistently and patiently she worked on Kuchiki-san and herself. She could feel the warmth returning to her hands. She could also see the colors returning to Kuchiki-san's cheeks.
She felt a light tap on her shoulder when she finished and turned around to see Kurosaki-kun's concerned face above her.
"Thank you Inoue."
"It's nothing. Kuchiki-san fared pretty well on her own, didn't she?"
"Ah." The rest of their companions had arrived now and were looking over his shoulders. Orihime didn't notice; she only saw how Kurosaki-kun stared past her and settled his eyes on the one who changed his world. Though the immediate dangers were gone, a small trace of worry still registered on his face.
The realization hit her before their group dispersed to their respective places for the night. No, it didn't just hit; it slammed into her and sent everything crashing—her very soul shaken and her heart shattered. She wept inwardly while keeping the mask of blind optimism displayed on her face. She watched Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san stalk off in the same direction, with Kuchiki-san a few paces ahead.
Orihime actually understood him quite well. This case was no different.
Kurosaki-kun saved her first because he wasn't a selfish guy.
In the present, Inoue glances one last time at the clinic. Satisfied, she resumes her sojourn. She hasn't seen old Tatsuki-chan in a while.
Even though that bit of hope was false, for a short moment, Inoue Orihime had been very happy.
Ichigo is not in the state of mind to notice such things. In a cloud of anxiety he paces the length of the room, repeatedly pausing in front of the bathroom door, then staring at it wearily, before pacing again. He is a doctor—although a stand in, one who has not completed his training, but nevertheless a doctor—and if his mind was straight, he would have been able to avoid this scenario, would have been able to find out for himself, for them, instead of waiting helplessly for the answer.
If the small package hadn't fallen out of Rukia's bag, he would have been ignorant of this turmoil, wouldn't have shared it with her. But then again, how are they sharing when she locked him out of their bathroom, and didn't so much as make a sound from the other side? She is letting him die all alone from anxiety!
He stops in front of the door again and wrinkles his forehead some more. One fist is raised to rap against the smooth wood, but then he thinks better and draws it to the back of his head, to scratch with frustration.
Back to pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.
And what kind of answer does he want anyway? That, he hadn't explored. So he goes to their bed and sits down with a thump. Ichigo folds his arms stiffly across his built chest and stares hard at the door, intent on boring a hole through it.
On the other side, Rukia crouches against the door, one arm cradling her knees close, the other extended and holding a slender plastic tester.
Three minutes can be a long time. Especially to wait for some pink lines to show up. And why pink of all colors?
She had read the instructions off the box over and over. It hardly made sense at first. By the fourth try she thinks she gets it. She is supposed to wait three minutes for the lines to appear. One line for negative and two for positive. A negative result means she's not pregnant. Positive means…means…
What about Ichigo? That poor jerk, he must be just as anxious or even worse off than her. She hadn't wanted to put him in this predicament. She wanted to be sure first; that's why she hadn't told him right away. She could have asked him to personally check her at the clinic, but she didn't want to burden him unnecessarily. Besides, those medical tools and instruments are always so cold.
Ichigo finds himself on his feet again, unable to sit still. He moves to the window and places his hands on the ledge. Too warm. The room is much too warm. The problem is quickly remedied by a switch of the latch and a swift pull.
A cool draft of moist air washes in, carrying autumn notes of burnt firewood and rain; he leans out a little more to get a lung's fill. He notices the sky is starless but far from ink black. The round lunar body looms at the edges, further glazing the damp world beneath with its silver-blue luster.
The celestial sphere, the luminous glow—all the same as that night—satiates his body with the same sentiments.
Moonlight cut through the sheet of rain. It threw a vivid sheen of blue over the glistening streets and sidewalks. He watched the back of the petite Shinigami up ahead, currently in her human frame. Her usual grace was absent; she was walking with uncharacteristically stiff shoulders. And she was being much too silent.
"Rukia."
She stopped and turned her head a little, barely giving him the profile of her face. "Ah." That was all the response she would give. Not even the rain's pattering could fill in the silent void between them.
"Rukia, I—I…"
She faced forward again when he failed to complete his sentence. "We should hurry. Unless you plan on getting sick."
"Rukia. Oi! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
She whirled around and faced him with the front of her body this time, her chin upturned in a defiant manner. "If you're offering an apology, then I don't need it. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did as you should."
Annoyance spread across his visage in the form of a scowl. "How the hell do you figure I was gonna apologize? Quit putting words in my mouth."
"Oh? Then what the hell were you about to say? Enlighten me please," she challenged, equally irritated.
He stared at her long and hard. The downpour had already relented to a drizzle, but nevertheless, they were both drenched. Her severe black tresses were nothing but a wet mop of hair. Rukia stared back at him, unblinking. It was then that he noticed how she had all of her hair out of her face for once; she must have brushed it back while they were walking. It was strange seeing her entire forehead, completely bare.
Strange was not necessarily a bad thing.
Discomforted by his sudden attention to her appearance, he abruptly inserted, "We need to hurry back to get outta these wet clothes." He pushed on ahead of her. He looked back when he didn't hear her footsteps echoing his own.
Rukia didn't move. Refused to. Her graceful attributes were back, evident in her downcast eyes. The fan of her dark lashes caught a bead of rain, like dew on the petals of a morning glory. "You haven't enlightened me yet."
Ridiculous. Like playing tag. "Doesn't matter." But he kept the game going anyway.
"It does matter."
"Why?"
She continued to frown at the ground, even biting on her lower lip. Now that—that, Ichigo hadn't seen before. Her lips deepened into a scarlet shade and became the most prominent feature on her pale complexion, as a red rose blooming in the midst of a snowy landscape would. "Because I'm curious."
A childish answer. It could have eased the knitting of his brows, had he been unguarded. "And?"
"Well?"
"Well what?"
She sharply jabbed him in the gut. She didn't like his answer.
"Fuck! The fuck you do that for!"
"So you weren't going to apologize." Her voice came out softer, almost sad.
Ichigo recovered from his hunched up position and was now scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Thought you said I had no reason to."
"So you WERE going to apologize?"
"No."
Rukia scrunched up her button nose in puzzlement. "Then stop confusing me, moron."
"You're the confusing one, MORON." Seeing they weren't getting anywhere, he figured he should fess up. Besides, it'd help him sleep better too. "When we were fighting those damn Arran—"
"I change my mind. I don't want to be enlightened."
Goddamit. Tag again. He felt like ripping his hair out. "Well make up your fucking mind. Fuck, I'm gonna tell you anyway so stop acting like a drama queen. Back then, I wanted to---"
She cut him off again, that bitch. "It's perfectly fine, Ichigo. You can't always be selfless. I can understand."
"You don't un—
"Ichigo, you don't have to explain."
"DAMMIT RUKIA! WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH ALREADY?" His face softened at seeing her surprised expression. He continued on, this time losing the edge from his voice. "The thing is, I wasn't being—being— selfish." This was harder than he thought, saying it out loud, admitting the words even to himself. He ignored the lump in his throat. "It would have been selfish to save—you. First." He couldn't look her in the eyes.
After taking an excruciatingly long time, the pink begins to make its appearance across the face of the plastic tester. Rukia bites on her lower lip, impatience gnawing at her. How similar it is to that time! A single second felt like an hour and a minute like a year. She had felt it at that time, desperately searching for the right reply, one that couldn't possibly damage their friendship any further, but perhaps preserve what was left.
"It would have been selfish to save—you. First."
The implications reached her quickly and she didn't like it. "Don't talk like that."
"Don't talk like what?"
"Like that."
"Like what?"
"Like that."
"ARRGHH! I give up!" He grabbed a fistful of his orange hair to confirm it.
Rukia never minded tag. Only now it resembled a tug-o-war. "Let's walk back, Ichigo." She didn't wait to hear his gruff voice, the sound of his shoes against the wet pavement was enough. It may have only taken another three minutes to get home, but those three minutes were unbearably long. Long even to an immortal whose time flowed infinitely. Rukia felt numb in her gigai while waiting for Ichigo to unlock the front door. And still numb when they walked through the door together, even as they climbed up the Kurosakis' stairway.
She paused meticulously in front of the twins' bedroom door, pondering a way to open it without waking them up. Yuzu, she wasn't worried about. But Karin, Karin was a light sleeper. It was something Rukia picked up on from the last few weeks that she shared their room. Her slender fingers went to wrap around the doorknob when the warmth of Ichigo's hand halted her. He lightly pulled her away, urging her to follow him. She hesitated, but didn't resist.
A thousand admonishments screamed out in her mind, yet the numb body continued to let Ichigo lead it by the hand.
Toward his room.
It must have been the gigai. Was it falling out of synchronization again?
"Ichi..." she managed, when they were finally in his room and the door quietly shut. "I'm fine with the closet, but I need a change of clothes—"
"Don't make me lose my nerve..." he whispered and pulled her abruptly into his arms.
Rukia stiffened against him. Her voice found again, "What? Are you mad?" She forcefully pushed him off her.
This seemed to rouse him from his insanity, or make him lose his nerve, whichever it was. Ichigo blushed profusely. "Che. All that fighting must have done something to my head. I'm delirious." There was an edge to his voice and he wasn't even looking at her directly.
"Anyhow, get out of those wet clothes before you get sick." She proceeded towards the door and stopped when her fingers got close to the knob.
Don't be foolish. Don't turn around. Just don't.
Her self-reprimand was useless, she was gazing at him again, and his amber orbs met hers. Metal to magnet, her feet carried her back towards him.
Instinctually and simultaneously they grabbed for each other and pressed their lips together hungrily. Logic was shoved to the side, giving way to their ferocity, madness, pent up desires. They took turns raising their arms, peeling the damp shirt off the other, fumbling over zippers, tumbling onto the bed in a mess of tangled hair, arms and legs.
Consequence always came in the morning, but recklessness felt good in the night.
"It came out negative."
"Negative? Is that supposed to be a good th----I mean, speak a language I know."
She frowns at him first. Isn't she speaking the language of the medical profession? "I'm not pregnant."
"Oh. I see." The lines on his face slowly smooth out. After a momentary pause, he encircles her with his arms and gently crunches her face against his chest. His tee-shirt is soft and smells like fresh laundry to her.
"Would you have been disappointed if I were? Or are you disappointed now because I'm not?"
"That—that I don't know. But whether you answered yes or no, these arms will embrace you just the same." Then after no response, "Rukia?"
"You sound funny when you say things like that."
He ignores the remark. "You're much more in tune with your body now." The skeptical look she throws him causes Ichigo to reel back. "I didn't mean that in a perverted way. Just that you noticed enough to---" His wife cut him off by clasping a hand over his mouth.
"So I am, huh? In tune."
He smiles warmly at her, the smile he rarely likes to show. "Yeah, it looks like you are. You're really doing fine here. 'Cause this is your world now." Rukia can't explain why, but those words mean a lot to her.
End Chapter Three
AN: Weird, I sure do like to use a lot of s/l/g sounds a lot Sorry if the flashbacks disrupt the flow. I figured I couldn't move forward without explaining how things came to be (in my head). I'll probably do one more flashback somewhere in the later chapters, and then the story will resume in a nice chronological order.
I've slipped into using the passive voice again---I hate that—if only I had used the past tense since the beginning, then it would have been easier to avoid. Oh, and if you read the first chap when it first came out, I've actually revised and reposted it, so there are some new (small) details that I threw in there.
P.S. Feel free to point out any mistakes I may have missed.
--Oct 25, 2005
Akemi: ur the first again! I think I should give you a cookie, because I'm always dreading that the first review would be a flame (and then you make me feel better).
Faye Chua: Glad u like those lines. It was spun from KT's quote about needing to grip the sword to protect, but being unable to embrace while gripping the sword. But then I find another quote from him about rust being bad….gotta make amends 4 that somewhere in the later chapters ;
Satan Hat: If they had children…..gawd…is it a good thing that we don't find out just yet? Read your profile…you like Cheeky Angel too? I loved the anime and really want to read the manga now!
Dark Grieveous: That means a lot! Hope this chap is up to par (it was so hard writing it).
Bakageta: Hey, inspirational speakers are great! But yeah, it's hard not to be critical—especially when there are so many good writers out there—it's hard not to compare! (o, read ur fic, very nice. In my review I meant to say 1st paragraph (or 2nd really), not 1st line)
ChibiRulz YanLan: Thanks for supportin' me! The thought of Rukia being a mother kind of dangled in my head but I felt like it'd resemble my other fic too much (SK fandom). Now a love triangle—that sounds good to me too!
seal-chan: I'm glad you liked the interlude—I was afraid it was awkward, especially with the changes in tenses. Oh! And please let me know which parts are confusing, because I have a tendency to try to describe too much action and end up losing people!
Procrastinator-starting2moro: u envy my writing? LoL, all while I'm envying someone else's too. Isn't it a writer's curse? But no grumbling allowed!
Chakura: Thanks But sadly, I think it reflects how I feel about my life…although boring is definitely better than seeing ghosts and fighting hollows!
Danny-171984: No worries, I can't sleep at night with an unfinished story. I'm glad the Zangetsu part didn't make you skeptical, because frankly I didn't know how to make him go away in a believable way.
bianca s: mmm…homemade chocolate chip cookiiieees…I love Rukia too…I just wish Ichigo would throw some signs that he likes her too! That KT…