Standard disclaimer applies.
Author's notes: It figures my next one-shot would turn out to be terribly strange. Still, I'd like to thank everyone for the support this collection has received. Thank you very much and see you soon!
Fragments
01.05.2007
She's running and running and running, but that darkness that is chasing her is starting to swallow her world. It devours her, it envelops her with a chilly mantle.
The sun is high up in the sky.
There is no moment to pause, her chest is heaving and she's growing tired. The sweat runs down her brow and she feels herself falter. There is laughter, cynical and twisted, and with just a twinge of sadness laced in-between. Her breath hitches. She halts without even thinking and doesn't know whether her heart has stopped beating or not.
Rukia sees bright orange and white eyes through her locks of hair falling over her own eyes. And then everything is black. Reality breaks.
She finds herself sleeping inside that incredibly small closet one more night. She flexes her fingers, trying to get used to her body, to this place, but her head spins with the scent of fresh laundry that invades her nose. It seems her lodger had, obviously, done his chores while she was out at Urahara's.
She turns over and listens to the boy pacing around the room, going over his notes for the exam next day. She smiles and closes her eyes.
There are perks to sleeping in a closet this tiny… she feels safe, because outside there is someone who seems to care. Maybe he's a bit of a rowdy boy, reckless and too rash, but he isn't half as bad. The thought is too wild. She shakes her head and forces herself to sleep. It's late, after all.
Rukia knows he has grown and the thought scares her. He has changed so much that she is afraid that she won't be able to recognize him anymore; and more than anything, she is afraid that she won't be able to do much to help him, that she won't be of any significance anymore. But he needs her right now, he's confused and alone; he needs someone to put some sense into his stupid brain. And that is something that, no matter of how little importance she is to him now, she knows she has to do.
It is with much strength of will that she climbs that window, steadies herself on that frail sill, speaks taunting words, and finds a dumbfounded boy staring at her. She smirks down at him, even if her heart is thumping so loudly it deafens her ears.
Renji stands behind Ichigo, he shares a look with her, and an agreement is settled silently. She launches at Ichigo.
To scold him is a usual occurrence, this time she's outright screaming at him. In the back of her mind she tells herself to shut up because she is ranting too much and she will regret it. But she is so angry. He is bloody all over again, messed up and hurt, and with a number of broken bones. She's kneeling beside him, healing him with the little power she has left.
"Moron! Idiot! How could you do that? How could you be so insanely reckless?" she demands with a strong voice. "You had me worried back there, stupid! I thought that you… I was… You… ARGH, I don't know why I love you!!"
Ichigo smirks as Rukia pants, her face flushed and tiny tears at the corners of her eyes.
"I was waiting to hear that," he tells her, the smirk now a sly smile. "I never thought it would turn out like this. It sounds good, say it again, Rukia."
Rukia fumes, rubbing her face and roughly wiping her tears. "Bastard."
His fingers brush her stained cheeks. "Me too."
The black-haired woman breathes an involuntary sigh of relief. "I'm still mad at you."
Bickering is their favorite hobby. She always teases him, always provokes him, and always yells louder when his tone rises. But now… now, he is the one doing all of the above, and unexpectedly so.
"Why do you love to irritate me?" she asks, completely bewildered at all the poking coming his way.
He shrugs, that now ever-present smirk on his face. "I've got nuthin' else to do?"
She huffs, blowing the black of hair in front of her eyes. "Then find something to do!"
Ichigo seems to be pondering for a while, his finger reaching to his chin thoughtfully. "No, it's fun."
Her eyes narrow at the orange-haired young man. She grips her sketch pad, glancing down at the drawing he'd been making fun of earlier. She pouts. "You are a prick, you know?"
He runs his fingers through her raven hairs, ruffling them, and then gives her a little pat on her head. "Thanks…" he nods in agreement. Then his hand slips away from her head and he inches away, "And you are a lovely pre-menopausic midget."
"WAH!?" Rukia turns at him, enraged. Well, that's it!! She's an expert at knocking him down, anyway.
She knows something else has changed, he's grown more bold and too much like her as well. That can't be good.
She is with him, her arms wrapped around his neck and his rest gently at her waist. They are kissing for the first time. It's awkward and clumsy; and he has to double himself to reach her height, while she has to stand on her tiptoes. And yet, there is nothing like it. There is no uncertainty, no fear, no regret, just two hearts thumping wildly. They part, but neither looks away.
Ichigo rubs his thumbs against her cheeks in the gentlest caress he can muster. She smiles, cups his face, and brings him close to kiss him again. The second kiss lacks the innocence of the first, but is still incredibly poignant.
It's quite unfortunate, terrible even, when Kon finds them making out in the boy's bedroom. They had avoided explanations until now, and shutting up the stuffed is proving to be a real challenge, too.
"Nee-saaaaaan. Whyyyyyyyy?" the lion cries bitterly. "Why with this moron!?"
Ichigo groans and Rukia tries to cover her ears in attempt to drown out the screams. "Kon, shut the hell up, you're going to wake up my sisters!"
"You wouldn't like that, would you, bastard? You're such an indecent pig, how could you do that to my Nee-san?! Pervert!"
Ichigo raises his eyebrows. "Look who's talking…" he mutters and the stuffed lion sputters nonsense then. "Ah, whatever…" He grabs Kon and introduces his finger into his stuffed throat.
Removing the pill was never this helpful.
They are fighting again, side by side. Glowing red flames erupt from the palm of her hand. Ichigo is swinging Zangetsu all around, but at last, not aimlessly. He's strikes are calculated and precise. He's grown so much.
The hollow takes a go at her and manages to scratch her. Ichigo turns around, yells an "Are you okay!?" which she ignores and tells him to mind his own business. In truth, there is pain in her sides, blood is surely trickling down her abdomen, but she doesn't know what he'll do. He is doing so good so far.
She unsheathes Shirayuki, runs her fingertips through her white blade, and moves so the tip of her sword touches the injured spot. The blood flow freezes.
They win that time, as expected, but Ichigo has a few words to say to her afterwards. Who'd think she'd turn out to be the one being scolded?
Her eyes open hastily as she wakes up in a start. Her heart is beating erratically, and her breath comes out in short gaps. Her eyes look around, afraid, and she notices at last how dark it really is as her hand searches for the sword at her hip by instinct. The sky is black, but she remembers a clear day before submerging into that deep sleep. The memories are so vague now, but still deeply etched into the walls of her mind. Like fragments of a shattered mirror.
She feels movement shifting to her left and she turns around, so quickly that it even makes her slightly dizzy. A crouched figure rests against the wall of the alley, breathing deeply. Rukia wants to slap herself for not noticing it before. Her hand curls tighter around the hilt of Shirayuki.
"I'm sorry," the figure breaths out, and moves forward as Rukia tenses. But when the light touches his face, it's none other but a pretty battered Ichigo. His hair is a mass of bright orange, his face is dirty, and his clothes torn. He is shaking slightly as well.
"Ichigo!" she drops Shirayuki without even thinking about it and rushes to his side. "Ichigo!"
"I'm fine," he brushes her hands away. He looks down at his feet, a knot in his throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't…"
She cups his face and makes him look at her. His eyes are dark amber, not white against black. "It's alright, I understand, Ichigo."
Ichigo rarely cries. But it doesn't matter, it's over for now.
Even if it is the last thing she does, she is going to help him beat the demon within. There are still many battles ahead of them. Memories that one day she will remember as that, fragments of a time long gone.