Dear readers,
Yes I know it has been a while since I've updated but there has been so much going on. I'm working on ym own fiction projects, but of course, I'm edging back into fanfiction, after a certain lovely boy encouraged me to keep with the fanfiction. It's a break and I won't have to worry about getting grades for it. So yes. Thanks for those who have bothered to read this, and of course, you can always PM me, if you need and/or want to. ANYWAY... On with the show!Love ZeeZee the Dreamer xxx 3 xxx
Seventeen
Previously -
"Don't Ulquiorra me! I wish you were dead!"
The walk home from the hospital was a quiet one. The wind whistled around her and she buried her hands deep into the pockets of her hoody. Leaves danced across the tops of her sneakers, and occasionally they attached themselves to her jeans. Rukia kept her head down and focused solely on what she had previously heard.
I wish you were dead.
I wish you were dead.
I wish you were dead.
It was like a mantra running through her head. And she couldn't believe that it was Ulquiorra that had said that. He seemed so nice, talking about his cat, Huckleberry. How could a quiet person like him, be capable of such cruelties? But the fact still remained that he had basically ordered an assassination on Grimmjow's life…
It chilled her to the bone, to know that she was walking with a murderer. A murderer! Small hairs rose on her arms and it wasn't long before her knees began shaking as they stood outside the door to her home.
Ulquiorra's voice was light, almost… fluffy. There was no better word for it. He made small jokes and quoted the play, in an almost natural way.
"Will you be back at school tomorrow?" he asked her, reaching out to touch her arm.
"Maybe," was her reply as she moved backwards, nearly hitting the door.
"Oh well, I can get Starrk to pick you up with me, if you want?"
"I'll walk."
"Are you alright Rukia? I know it must have been pretty shocking to see him like that but-"
"I'm fine. I have to go now. Thank you for taking me," she interrupted. She scarpered inside before he had a chance to do anything to her. She leant against the door, breathing deeply.
"Rukia? Is that you?" came her brother's voice.
"Who else is it going to be, the tooth fairy?" she grumbled under her breath.
She kicked off her sneakers and shoved them into the hallway shoe cupboard.
Inside the living room, Byakuya was curled in one corner of the sofa, a steaming cup in one hand, the remote in the other, watching the some celebrity cooking show on the television. She sat next to him and lifted his arm so she could cuddle into him. She clutched at him tightly.
"Don't leave me!" she mumbled.
"Rukia? Rukia, what's wrong?"
"Don't die on me too!" she cried out.
He pushed her upwards and told her to wait there. She pulled her knees to her chest, and slowly began rocking, back and forth. When Byakuya re-emerged from the kitchen, he had a glass of milk in his hands.
"Careful, it's warm," he warned her, as it tried to pass her it.
Rukia sipped it slowly, small tears rolling down her cheeks, the noise of the television like white noise in her ears. She muted it with the remote and leant back against the pillows, her head spinning.
"Rukia, what's this all about?"
"If you knew someone had done something really, really, really, bad, what would you do?"
"I'd tell someone, the police or something. What's wrong?"
"It's about… Grimmjow," she said quietly.