Title: Patchwork

Torture: Guilt Trip

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia; Ichigo/Rukia

Rating: PG

Summary: Scars are not always trophies in the eyes of the world.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for the recent chapters, nothing too serious.

There was something all together comforting about the way he could easily hide his scars behind the barrier of a thin cotton t-shirt. At the same time, there was something altogether unsettling about the whole feeling of relief that swept through his body in the knowledge that those scars were hidden from prying eyes.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of those scars - they represented just how far he had and could go to protect someone - it was just that the Human world at large, would not and could not understand the importance of those scars.

It is said that people are afraid of the unknown, a true saying if there ever was one. If the world were to look upon him with his body covered with multiple unexplainable scars, the world would ponder many things, such as:

How did he get such scars?

What are they from?

What did he do to deserve such horrible treatment?

People were very good at attempting to fill in the blanks, a pity they usually failed to come up with the right answers to their questions. Instead, they came up with ideas that were more and more farfetched, images taken straight from nightmares and the latest popular horror movie.

Unfortunately for him, people like that would continue to believe their own bizarre theories even in the face of truth - a truth that was so unbelievable that it almost stopped being the truth. Better to wear a t-shirt while at the beach than to risk the eyes and wrong assumptions of others.

His eyes strayed over once again to the girl lying on the beach towel beside him in the shade of an umbrella. She was grinning as she watched their friends playing volleyball. Three long, sharp scars ran along her stomach and her back. Scars from a battle he's never seen and never had a chance to save her from. She lay there without a care in the world, ignoring the curious stares and the sound of wheels turning in the heads of various people as they attempted to solve the mystery that is the set of painful scars on the body of a young girl.

In an almost gentlemanly fashion, he offered his precious shirt to her. "To stop them from staring." He stated simply when she asked him why.

Rukia had stared at him for a moment, before smiling. "Let them stare, it's not like I have something to be ashamed of." Said the girl who had refused to let Orihime heal her because she hadn't wanted to lose the physical reminder of what she had paid to win.

His hand fell away from the hem of his shirt. Even with her assurance he still can't bring himself to share that part of himself with the world - the part that is supposed to be a hero.

Rukia seemed to sense his hesitance as she reached out and patted his shoulder. "It's okay." She said, smiling gently at him. "You don't have to do it now. It took me several years to understand that memories like these," she pointed to her stomach, which bore three thick lined scars. "Hold a meaning above what anyone else besides ourselves can attach to it."

There is a part of him that is angry at the fact that he can't rip off the shirt just yet.

But one day he will.

One day when he's ready.