"Rukia is...interesting." The word failed to convey most of the depth of fascination, possibly gratitude as the world was no longer as crooked. It was nearly straight. The occurrence, Tensa knew to be the uprightness of the petite girl's soul. The fieriness was just an added amusement.
"Interesting?" Sode no Shirayuki murmured as though she found the word distasteful, contrary to her liking. The yuki-onna resplendent in her flickering white soft on the edges by light blue. Her lips pursed, two eyes like ice chips focusing on her counterpart- or as one might have remarked on had any living soul been privileged to witness the meeting of the polar opposites- for that was what they were.
Complete opposites of one another.
His hair of the blackest night falling to his chin, swathed in black from head to foot. His eyes were keen and sharp, able to perceive flaws and weaknesses; while Shirayuki's were soft yet sometimes reflected hardness like the coldest winter.
She wasn't happy.
"And...what of Ichigo?"
Sode no Shirayuki was too lady-like to spit. However, she sufficed a near enough twist to her delicate features countenancing severe despise. "He is..an arrogant, cocky teenager whom lacks delicacy in all form." she said, fluttering a pale snow-encrusted fan over her face.
"Ah...that sounds correct for the boy's normal behavior." How the boy's address of: old man had often irked him beyond measure. Zangetsu hadn't been overly fond of correction so Ichigo had been allowed to slide all those times, whereas now, Tensa begged to differ.
The boy needed...as the beautiful yuki-onna was apt to teach him; delicacy- a trait Tensa said more plainly as manners in respect to one's elders.
Not that he considered himself an old man...
"Such as befitting a brute." Sode no Shirayuki pronounced haughtily.
Tensa agreed more or less, "don't worry." He said tonelessly, "the boy will come around soon enough."
The yuki-onna's lip curled delicately, giving light to exactly how she felt about Ichigo accepting her as his Zanpaku-to. "And what of...Rukia?"
"What of her?" Tensa asked sharply, a little too much it seemed as Sode no Shirayuki's ice blue eyes narrowed in suspicion on his face. He kept his expression neutral, erasing anything that had surfaced previously, escaping his rigid guard.
"..Nothing." She murmured after an eon had passed. "We will see...we will see in time."
...
Ichigo ignored her for the better part of two days.
An act that she thought was amusing since it was her- or was formerly her Zanpaku-to that Ichigo was pissed off at. For what reason, she wasn't exactly sure, oh she had caught Urahara in secret conference with Tessai, about procuring certain items indispensible to frostbite and other items to avoid frostbite.
She smiled then.
It seemed Sode no Shirayuki was having a difficult time adhering to the new scheme of weaponry- a trait that her new Zanpaku-to didn't seem to care about one way or another.
"Feel it." He called boredly, watching with folded arms and mute disapproval as she failed once again to withdraw his released form. Rukia fumed silently, a nasty suggestion near to falling from her tongue as to the proper way Zanpaku-to should behave when they happen to not be the same ones a Shinigami was born with.
Ergo, they didn't share a soul like the moon cutter insisted they now did.
Instead; she wore- by threatened strike, if that was even possible, her old black shihakusho with the difference of no scabbard at her waist. Tensa had said nothing when she had flat-out declared she would not wear the stylized outfit-
But, he had smiled slightly when she had agreed, it was for the best if she just accepted him as her sword. That smile did something funny to her stomach, not that Rukia would've admitted it. Grumpily then, she had put her back to him and begun practicing releasing shikai.
To no apparent avail.
Stupid, stubborn sword- she ground out in her mind. She started when a cool hand fell over hers, and a gentle but firm grip was applied to her wrist. "Feel me." Tensa whispered, aligning himself to the outline of her body, Rukia at first stiffened as his hard male form pressed against her back, then slowly let the tension drain as he spoke quietly above her head.
"What drove you from the beginning to accept my blade?"
That was easy. "Necessity." Rukia said without hesitation.
"..." Tensa shifted his grip. "And what do you let hold you back from accepting it once more?"
Instinctively it was more difficult to answer as easily as she had done before. What was it...exactly? Definition she lacked, despite an irritation for something she couldn't put a name to, something-something!
"Well?" he questioned calmly in a tone implying they had an eternity to resolve everything. Impatience burned in her, despite his cool and complacent attitude, Rukia just wanted to get it over with! To...
"I don't know!" she snapped, finding it harder and harder to concentrate.
"Or don't understand." The Zanpaku-to finished.
His calmness was infuriating her for no reason. When she made no immediate reply, fuming in silence, the sword remarked, "perhaps it is not the will that is lacking."
Her lips pursed, "then what?" a hint of sarcasm tinted her voice. "You're saying I'm inept, is that it?"
An exhalation of air, the faintest sound following and she realized, somewhat stunned; that he had chuckled.
Again!
At her!
Her face started burning, she was glad he couldn't see it.
"No, Kuchiki Rukia. Merely distracted." He explained once his amusement had faded. Rukia repeated the word in her mind, even as he shifted, pressing tighter, closer-
-distracted?-
Too close.
His arms were over hers, slender fingers gently pulling apart her tight grip on the hilt. Rukia felt his muscles constrict and flow beneath the black cloth of the cloak, her own heart suddenly racing at a frantic pace.
"Wha-what're you..." her annoyance increased as her voice wobbled more than she liked.
What was he..
The sword ignored her, easing with his thighs and a careful nudging her close-legged stance to open. She flushed violently, "dammit! What the hell-!"
"Shush." Tensa ordered, a note of dormant irritation sparking in his tone. Rukia immediately fell silent, stiffly following the molding of her body. He didn't stop until they had both adopted a common Zanjutsu stance; he still cupped her hands around the upraised blade.
"What do you feel now?"
Uncomfortable- she thought angrily, outrage threatening to overcome her sensibilities. Rukia bit the inside of her mouth to keep in exactly what she thought about his method of teaching, saying tightly instead, "nothing."
The stray strands of her hair rustled at the motion of his breath. "You disappoint me then."
Rukia couldn't help it. "How so?" sharper than she had wanted.
Tensa didn't hesitate to demean. "A warrior must be on guard at all times. Ready to lend force to a blade, ready to rise up and defend those he loves. That is the true meaning of protection."
"And why don't you think I have it?"
His breath was let out as a sigh. "Perhaps it is only an ideal you were taught to defend, as a principle, a way of life. Never a person for whom you love-"
"That's not true!" Anger surged again and she struggled, trying to twist out of his hold. Tensa exerted little extra strength to maintain his grasp, mildness in his tone as he continued, "you may not desire to hear it, Kuchiki Rukia. But for the main part of your existence, you've been driven to protect a rigid set of unbreakable laws- necessary in ways of guarding the spirit world, but nevertheless not something living, breathing. You-"
"-know nothing of me!" she spat, vainly attempting to twist her elbows back into his chest.
Another drawn out sigh. "And that..."
The sword clattered from their hands.
Tensa grasped her wrists and held them high as she jerked around, her eyes flashing violet fire. Impassively he gazed at her futile struggling. "..That is what you must find."
"What?" she demanded, glaring at him, daring him to humiliate her further.
Tensa released her simultaneously as he spoke, "someone to love."
Stunned at his words more than her sudden release, Rukia stumbled back.
"What...what the hell..." her gaze swiveled to him almost accusingly, "does that mean?"
But, the sword was already gone.
...
She was small.
He had known it before, but this...this was different. He could feel the fragile bones of her hand and wrist under his, the thinness of her body against his chest. He had never touched Ichigo in such a way, nor had ever felt the need to.
But, Kuchiki Rukia was different.
The moon cutter couldn't say how.
"Necessity." She said, answering his question. Tensa could feel the expanding motion of her lungs, the soft inhalation she took to supply her body with air. Tension thickened the atmosphere, he sensed it as well.
"And what do you let hold you back from accepting it once more?"
She seemed to have trouble breathing every time he spoke. Minutes passed and still she remained silent. He grew impatient, a hint of it escaped as a bite to his tone. "Well?"
Rukia stirred, "I don't know!" she sounded as infuriated as when Ichigo called her midget or when she was being made fun of. A thing the sword wasn't doing. He wondered why the tension in her body seemed to double the longer he maintained their position.
"Or don't understand." He was finding it slightly more difficult than anticipated to decipher her thoughts. Perhaps it had something to do with...gender. A scowl asserted itself on his face, coldly he went on, "perhaps it is not the will that is lacking."
"Then, what?" Rukia snapped, showing more of that spitfire he was used to seeing directed at Ichigo. "You're saying I'm inept, is that it?"
He chuckled quietly unable to suppress it.
Kuchiki Rukia was infinitely more amusing than his former master.
A moment passed, the notion of gender reoccurring in his thoughts. Perhaps it was because Sode no Shirayuki was female..
"No, Kuchiki Rukia. Merely distracted." Tensa covered her arms with his, maneuvering her body into the proper stance; she immediately protested, fidgeting and growling out things which he found peculiar.
She was a Shinigami, weren't the movements obvious?
Didn't she recognize the basic Zanjutsu stance?
Slightly confused by the things that went through unseen in her mind; Tensa soon had her in satisfactory position. "What do you feel now?" He expected the anticipation of a warrior, the adrenaline rush to strengthen her hold on the hilt...
Nothing.
She said as much, irritation showing in her sullen tone.
The first tendrils of frustration ate away at his patience. "You disappoint me then."
"How so?" she retorted just as quickly.
"A warrior must be on guard at all times. Ready to lend force to a blade, ready to rise up and defend those he loves. That is the true meaning of protection." Tensa proceeded to explain, an edge to his voice that was instinctive for her to pick up on. He was severely displeased. She was not advancing as much as he had anticipated- at least that was what he meant to convey.
He realized her mood was combatant soon enough.
"And why don't you think I have it?"
A challenge lay beneath her words.
He sighed deeply."Perhaps it is only an ideal you were taught to defend, as a principle, a way of life. Never a person for whom you love-"
That did it. Her fiery nature flared up again. "That's not true!" Rukia began twisting and struggling, her small arms shaking as ineffectually she attempted to dislodge his hold on her. Tensa barely made a concession of a tighter hold, sighing even as he knew his words were futile.
"You may not desire to hear it, Kuchiki Rukia. But for the main part of your existence, you've been driven to protect a rigid set of unbreakable laws- necessary in ways of guarding the spirit world, but nevertheless not something living, breathing. You-"
"-know nothing of me!" She refused to hear it.
Tensa sighed, in some ways she was more troublesome than Ichigo ever had been. It was small sensation however, slight though it rippled in the dim recesses of his consciousness. A feeling perhaps- he didn't pause to consider its import, nor bearing on the petite angered Shinigami.
"And that..."
Her curled hands suddenly opened.
He- no, the black katana struck the concrete, skittering away. Tensa ignored the ringing hollow of the tang bouncing across the ground, instead, keeping a firm grasp on her thin, bony wrists, her body twisting around to face him as she pivoted, violence in the motion.
Soon they were face-to face.
Flashing violet eyes stared hard into his, unmoved, Tensa stared back into the delicate face contorted into a mask of rage. Slight emotion touched something in his chest, as a sword he disregarded it, his mask of calm wisdom slipping into place.
"..That is what you must find." He intoned as her fury worked up to its height.
Rukia glared daggers, her tone losing all politeness. "What?" she all but spat.
Tensa knew with a certainty then, that she didn't love his former master...or perhaps did not realize the emotion for what it was. There were different kinds of love, the kind she lacked, was that of the soul.
Not of the bond between Nakama.
But, of a soul mate.
He wondered if Ichigo was her soul mate.
"...someone to love." The moon cutter added for her benefit, in case her slow mind had not caught on immediately to what her soul was incomplete without.
He did not see the strangest expression flitter across her face when he let her go.
Nor heed her stammered words as she fell back.
No. Rather it was a sensation of the same as before, as foreign as the sun was to Sode no Shirayuki's frozen world; trapped in isolation had taught the Zanpaku-to solitude, and the few emotions that filtered past the barrier between Ichigo's soul and his, shared, did not compare.
It was so...so peculiar, that the moon cutter could not place a name to it.
Hidden in the maze-like city; Tensa felt her go after a time, perhaps giving up calling him back. The tug was only minimal, like a subtle pressure in the pit of his stomach; Ichigo had always been much stronger. So, he had ignored it this time.
Relief was too puerile a word for how he felt when the Shinigami had left, and he could venture out again among the buildings and take up his favorite spot overlooking the vast confines of the mindscape.
His mindscape.
Their mindscape.
In some ways, Rukia was the same as Ichigo.
But, in many... Tensa closed his eyes, breathing in the same coolly icy scent that had steadily begun to permeate every layer of the mindscape; hers- her reiatsu. It had clung to her clothing- her body...he had felt it and...and...he stopped himself in time.
Thinking such things would lead to no end and were unfair to her and to himself; Tensa knew.
Thoughts such as that would become burdensome...when his Shinigami fell in love.
-TBC
AN: sorry, very little Ichigo and Shirayuki. It was hard enough with Tensa...(sheesh he's difficult to write)
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