I am absolutely, completely, utterly blown away by the reception for the first chapter of this fic. What, 15 reviews? FIFTEEN. And a lot of follows and favourites. *Dances in glee* I confess though that I could have updated a bit sooner if not for the fact that the Law reading lists for university next year came out this week so I had actual work to do. :P
But I wrote extra fast because I love you all, and you guys have been great encouragement. Thanks especially to all the people who reviewed – , Phantom Claire, Keegan.K92, Jordan Kurosaki, ilovebks, PsychoNinjaWolf, SithStalker234, Orange3WhiteSkew, Hinata001, uzuki-chan, derrangedfangirl006, Miwokgirl01, Rose Catcher, Tsuki no Yukihime, Takagi Arin. I hope I didn't misspell your names :)
Right, don't own Bleach, blah blah don't sue the future lawyer :D Onwards with the fic!
Below, Ichigo takes one look at the situation, and the five zanpaktuos drawn – six, if Senbonzakura was to be counted – and rises smoothly to his feet, cradling Rukia in his arms.
He lifts his head and states formally in what Rukia calls his "leader-berry" voice, "Captains. My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. I am the taichou of the Fourteenth Division of the Gotei 14." He bows slightly, only inclining his head really, the bow of a man facing equals.
Ichigo looks them all in the eye. "Forgive me for trespassing on your time and territory. If I may ask a question – this may sound strange – what year is it?"
(BerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAK)
In the late afternoon, the setting sun drifts near the threshold of the horizon, setting earth and sky on fire with crimson and magenta hues. The gathered clouds shine with blinding light on their western edges, hiding darkness in their folds in the east. The buildings of Seireitei are similarly silhouetted, red and black, light and shadow.
Seven captains surround Ichigo, two on the ground next to him, five standing on the courtyard rooftop.
A slight pause follows Ichigo's question as the captains process the significance of the query.
"There are thirteen divisions in the Gotei 13. Are you possibly suggesting that you are from…the future, young ryoka?" Kyouraku asks in return. The corner of his mouth upturns in a half amused, half disbelieving twist.
To his surprise, the young man standing below merely shifts the girl in his arms to a more comfortable position and fires right back, "Well, I don't know, do I? That was sort of the point of asking the date?" The sarcasm lies heavy on his words.
Another pause.
"I like him," Kenpachi states loudly to no one in particular, bells jingling as he scratches one ear. "I'm gonna fight you sometime, boy. Was that freaky reiatsu thing just now you?"
"Aa."
Kenpachi's grin impossibly widens even more. "I'm definitely going to fight you then –"
"The year is 1957, anno Domini, by the common calendar of the human world." Komamura growls roughly, cutting Kenpachi off before he gets too carried away.
Zaraki scowls, but a deceptively warm look from Unohana makes the scarred face retreat into a sudden expression akin to a kicked puppy. That look says something on the lines of "say any more and I will kill you with healing cream". And while that is a paradox, with Unohana, nothing is impossible for the scary glint hidden in her soft gaze.
Below them, Ichigo blocks out his surroundings and does a quick mental calculation. Fifty-five years. Far back enough for a whole host of problems. His mind goes into overdrive as Ichigo catalogues the possible minefields before him – half a century means he isn't even born yet, but Rukia…
Kaien. Byakuya. Renji. Not to mention for Ichigo himself, his dad might be still in the Gotei 13.
Wait a second. Aizen. Gin. Tousen.
The abrupt realization of by far the biggest problem on his hands hits Ichigo like a punch to his chest. What is left of his reiatsu threatens to explode out of him as his pupils dilate in a moment of pure, undiluted panic. Rukia squeaks unconsciously in his arms as the reiatsu reaches her.
Crap. That might be viewed as an attack. But before Ichigo has a chance to pull back on his reiatsu, he feels Zangetsu slam up dampener walls inside his mind on reflex.
The reiatsu wave putters out within twenty feet.
A shift of cloth behind him prompts Ichigo to swing Zangetsu's broad blade behind him.
There is a ringing clash of metal on metal as Senbonzakura's tip scrapes off Zangetsu's edge. Ichigo looks up as his thoughts clear and he finally notices that somebody had been talking to him.
"–to take you into the specific custody of the Gotei 13," Kyouraku finishes, his zanpakutuo gripped ready after that rush of reiatsu.
Ichigo blinks twice, complete confusion on his face. The captains have jumped down to the courtyard, surrounding him in a near-perfect circle. Half of the courtyard is thrown into shadow as the sun slips lower on the horizon.
"Ano…" Ichigo replies with a hint of embarrassment, "I may have…blanked out for a bit. Sorry about that." It is not clear whether he meant his unattentiveness or the reiatsu burst. "I was sort of doing a mental calculation, so, um, could you repeat that?"
It is not often that a ryoka can reduce seven captains of the Gotei 13 to complete speechlessness. Unless, of course, said ryoka goes by the name of Kurosaki Ichigo.
Is he serious?
Then Soi Fong barks a harsh laugh, the crimson sunset catching the edge of her features. "My, my, Ukitake, you have caught us a fine specimen of intelligence today."
"Oi. What was that supposed to mean."
Soi Fong smirked. "Exactly what you think. I will translate what Kyouraku-taichou said so your limited brain function can understand, ryoka. You are going to come with us."
Ichigo blinks again.
"Uh, sure. No problem. Where're we going? Captain's meeting hall?"
Of all the answers that he could have said, that was not what the captains expected.
Looking at their flabbergasted expressions, Ichigo sighs. He is beginning to get seriously ticked off. "Look," he reasons, letting Zangetsu drop to stick point-down in the soft dirt, "I'm not here to trash Seireitei and beat all of you high-level shinigami to crap. Been there, done that. Oh, except for the plum tree. Sorry about that, Byakuya." Byakuya arches an eyebrow at this, but does not comment.
"I just want to fix up this gigantic political mess so I can get the sleep that I need after Mayuri sent me and my fukutaichou fifty five years back through his blasted excuse for a scientific experiment. I will come quietly without resisting, or whatever your equivalent in law enforcement language is here, once my fukutaichou, Kuchiki Rukia, is healed." Ichigo carefully shifts Rukia in his arms so that her face is clearly visible to all the newly arrived captains.
The five captains start backwards in varying degrees of shock. "That does look like Kuchiki-san," Kyouraku says, sending a fleeting look at Byakuya, who nods imperceptibly.
"That's because she is Rukia. She's lost a lot of blood." For the first time, the captains can see a hint of worry in the young man's voice and posture. "Can we bring her to the Fourth Division, Unohana-taichou?"
But it is Kyouraku who answers. "Leave her with Unohana-taichou. We will proceed to the meeting hall immediately, after sealing your zanpakutuo." At unspoken consent, all the captains lower their blades.
"What? No, I'm going with her. She's my subordinate." Ichigo surreptitiously hugs her closer to him.
"You don't have a choice," Komamura barks.
Ichigo suddenly straightens, a touch of fire returning to his eyes. He moves boldly, but slowly to avoid suspicion, to stand in front of Unohana. "Fine," he snaps. "But I need you to swear on your former title as Kenpachi, Unohana-taichou, that no harm will come to her while she lies in your care. I will settle for no less."
"So do I swear that it will be so," Unohana says immediately, taking Rukia. Ichigo's hands tremble as Rukia leaves them, but he stills them quickly by clenching his fists.
Abruptly in a foul mood, Ichigo tears Zangetsu out of the ground in one smooth, swift motion, flips it in his hands so the edge faces up, and shoves the blade into Ukitake's arms.
"Take Zangetsu. He hates you the least out of the captains. You should be alright touching him."
Ukitake's thin form is bowled over by Zangetsu's enormous weight, eyes round in surprise and hair flying. He picks himself up after a moment, muscles in his forearms straining to hold the zanpakutuo. "Tell him thanks for the compliment?" Ukitake tries, trying to smile but grimacing instead.
Zangetsu shivers in reply.
Ichigo dusts off his hands, hearing Zangetsu's unhappy grunt in his subconscious. Bear with it, he shoots back. Ichigo gives the captains a cursory glance, and says, "I don't have my zanpakutuo anymore, so you don't have to seal him. He doesn't like that sort of thing, you could hurt yourselves. We're going to the taichou meeting hall? Right. See you there, try to keep up."
The last two words are torn away by the wind as Ichigo shunpo-s into the distance at a breathtaking speed.
Soi Fong flings herself after him into the blood-red sky, her steps barely able to close the gap. Komumura and Zaraki follow.
"That gaki–" Kyouraku quips in something resembling admiration, also taking off.
Byakuya gives an affronted "hn", before first flash-stepping to Ukitake and lifting the burden of Zangetsu off him, then blurring away before the white-haired man has a chance to say "Thank you".
Ukitake and Unohana follow at a more sedate pace, the medic swerving towards the Fourth Division headquarters halfway across the sky.
On the other side of the Kuchiki manor, a young woman, having just returned from the training grounds where she also felt the bursts of reiatsu from before, brushes past the servants' greetings and sprints into the courtyard, violet eyes wide and calling for her Nii-sama.
But the courtyard is already empty.
(BerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAK)
The captain's meeting room is specifically constructed to seem vast and cavernous, in order to intimidate ryoka, traitors, captives alike. The blood-red of the surrounding walls cage the people below in a windowless prison of crimson, the single, unadorned seat for the soutaichou looming solitary, a judgment platform for the betrayer. The wood floor is polished to a mirror-gleam, so perfect and stainless that it seems sacrosanct. Any prisoner who walks upon it does so tentatively, seeing all their deficiencies reflected in it – their clothes, their hair, the fear etched on their features. For anyone who does not belong there, the room is a judgment chamber, a hall of dread.
It is supposed to be, anyway.
Kurosaki Ichigo stands, carelessly slouched, facing eight of the most powerful shinigami in all of Seireitei, picking earwax out of one ear and flicking bits at the pristine wooden floor.
He does this with his left hand, while he holds his right away from his shihakushuo and haori. The look of absolute boredom on his face is no indication of his inner disgust at the drying rivulets of blood adorning his right forearm.
Rukia's blood.
Ichigo is also pointedly immune to the scattering of death glares trained on his neck. To his left, Soi Fong emanates wave upon wave of murderous reiatsu, the sound of her teeth grinding together echoing to where he stands even though she is technically the farthest away from him.
She had lost the race to the captain's meeting room, not by a little, but by a lot.
When she had staggered to a panting halt next to the majestic double doors of the meeting hall, she could barely snarl her insults past her gasps for air at a serene Ichigo waiting for her cross-legged in a classic lotus meditation position.
"Hi, good of you to catch up," he had said, not bothering to open his eyes.
A gleam remarkably similar to a feral wolf flashed across her eyes. "How," she wheezed, "did, you, do that?"
"Skill."
She whipped out her zanpakutuo in a blind rage. "I am the queen of shunpo!"
"No offense, but I was taught by better." It was a statement of fact. Ichigo still did not deign to open his eyes.
Soi Fong practically growled, "Who. Are. You. Talking. About?"
Ichigo shrugged nonchalantly. Before she had a chance to take the brat's head off his snarky, disrespecting, dead shoulders, a sizzle of burned flesh and a thunk of metal announced Byakuya's arrival.
Nobles do not throw hissy fits. But Byakuya looked like he was on the brink of doing so. His hands trembled as they shone a faint red in the orange light of the setting sun. "It BURNED me," Byakuya spat.
Ichigo cracked an eye open. "There was a reason I gave Zangetsu to Ukitake, you know." Zangetsu emanated a faint sense of satisfaction in the back of Ichigo's mind.
Therein lies the reason for Byakuya's death glare, only slightly less murderous than Soi Fong's.
Ichigo is now mind-numblingly bored. They had been waiting for over half an hour for the very late taichou of the tenth division to turn up. Even Unohana had arrived fifteen minutes ago, giving Ichigo a small nod to show that Rukia was in safe hands. Sending spikes of killer intent at the younger version of Mayuri had lost its charm at length. And the sigh of relief that had washed over him when he had discovered that Aizen, Gin and Tousen were off on an extended mission hadn't lasted long, either.
"Maa," he says to the room at large, "Can I be excused to the bathroom or something?"
No answer.
Then with a creak of an opening door, the wizened form of the soutaichou, Yamamoto Genryuusai appears through a passage directly behind his seat at the head of the chamber. "You are awfully at ease for one in your situation, ryoka boy," Yamamoto says mildly, easing himself into the chair and laying his staff beside him.
A real grin splits Ichigo's face as he bows in proper respect from the waist. "Ohayo, Yama-jii!" he shouts. "It's great to see you again!"
Reactions to the blatantly disrespectful nickname are varied. Byakuya tilts his head back slowly. Mayuri shifts. Soi Fong snaps out, "Show some respect, boy!" Ukitake smiles to himself, Kyouraku hides a grin, and Zaraki barks out a laugh.
Yamamoto merely raises his eyebrows.
Clearing his old throat, he begins in a gravelly voice, "We have waited long enough for those who are late. I hence proclaim the start of the trial pertaining to this ryoka–"
Rapidly arriving stomping footsteps outside the doors.
Some sixth sense ingrained into Ichigo due to years living under the same roof with a man who has a sadomasochistic streak prompts him to dive into a tumble-roll away from the double doors.
BANG.
The swinging doors whip past Ichigo's upside-down vision, missing his head by centimetres. A pair of sandaled feet stride past him.
"Hello, everybody! Isshin-taichou here! Sorry for the wait, Masumoto-chan forgot to wake me up from my mid-afternoon siesta, ha ha ha ha–"
KWAP.
Ichigo's foot sweeps into his face in a stunning display of a textbook-perfect spinning roundhouse kick.
"Gurk…" Shiba Isshin is sent spiraling into a corner, face smushed in.
"KONNO HAKUCHI! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!" Ichigo yells, landing in a perfectly balanced crouch. "Why is it that every time I end up in the same room as you I have to go through a NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE?!"
A thicket of zanpakutuos crowds around Ichigo's neck.
From the other side of the room, his father picks himself up from where he is plastered on the floor with a mumbled "Ite ite…" Isshin clambers to his feet, tweaking his nose experimentally. "This kid's got spunk," Isshin groans. "I'm going to get you back for that. Do I know you?"
"Ye-No," Ichigo says. "Not yet," he amends.
"Now that's an interesting answer. And for some reason, Engetsu likes you." Isshin saunters past him to his place in line, meeting Ichigo's eyes for a brief second. "Let him go guys, I'm okay," he adds, tapping Byakuya's shoulder.
The thicket of swords is withdrawn with a metallic rasp.
"Do something like that again and I'll run you through," Komamura growls under his breath.
"I'm sure you will," Ichigo replies placidly.
Yamamoto raps his staff sharply against the wooden floor. On reflex, all the captains including Ichigo snap to attention, shoulders back and eyes forward.
It is not lost on the soutaichou how the boy so far has reacted to everything as one would expect a high-level captain of the Gotei 13 to – and not just any captain, but one versed in war. There are the telltale ghosts behind the ryoka boy's soft brown irises, the way his eyes scan and flicker between possible escape routes and entrances, the perpetual tenseness in his shoulders even when his arms and body seem deceptively relaxed.
He is not to be underestimated.
"I have received a preliminary report about your sudden appearance, ryoka," Yamamoto begins slowly, tapping his hardened nails against the top of his cane.
An unreadable haze passes over Ichigo's features, and everyone in the room recognizes it as the return of the boy's previous "Captain" persona.
"With your permission, honorable soutaichou-sama, I will speak first, to save our gracious captains from a waste of their precious time." This is accompanied by a short bow, which he holds still in expectation of Yamamoto's reply.
From the side, Isshin stifles a snort at the sudden change in character of the young man standing before him. He is obviously used to dealing with authority.
Yamamoto inclines his head.
Ichigo straightens, clasps his hands behind his back, and begins. "I am, as I previously stated, Kurosaki Ichigo, captain of the Fourteenth Division of the Gotei 14. I arrived in the Seireitei of this time approximately an hour ago, accompanied by my fukutaichou, Kuchiki Rukia." Here, all eyes jump to Byakuya momentarily, but the noble is carefully blank-faced.
Yamamoto shifts. "Do you have proof of your identity?" The old man's eyes are flinty.
In reply, Ichigo swivels elegantly, displaying the number etched on his fine haori. As he completes his turn, Unohana speaks.
"His fukutaichou is in the Fourth Division's custody. I can confirm that by blood tests, the woman in my care is indeed Kuchiki Rukia."
Byakuya twitches once, then returns to his stonelike stillness.
At Ichigo's glare, Unohana continues with an edge of steel in her voice, "My promise to you still stands, child. A blood test does not constitute harm."
Yamamoto gestures at Ichigo. "Your identity is accepted – provisionally – and you may continue."
Ichigo does. "Our arrival here was – or will be, if you may – an accident. To spare you all the painfully scientific details, fifty-five years into the future, under the ceaseless experimentation of Kurotsuchi Mayuri-san, a prototype of a device capable of time-travel was created." Ichigo half turns in Mayuri's direction, and is not at all surprised when he sees the tall form of the scientist trembling in glee.
It also does not escape Ichigo's notice that both Ukitake and Byakuya have realised the blatant lack of mention of Urahara. At their pointed looks, he twitches one of his hands behind him. I will explain later. Please. Ukitake looks slightly mollified, Byakuya does not.
"Yes," Ichigo acknowledges Mayuri with a hint of annoyance, "You were very excited about the invention. You asked me, the possessor of the greatest reiatsu reserves known in the history of the shinigami, to provide a preliminary power source. I was sucked into the vortex. My fukutaichou followed out of loyalty. We appeared in Byakuya's garden. The rest, you all know better than I."
Ichigo steps forward boldly. "I wish to make it clear that neither I nor my subordinate mean the present Gotei 13 any harm whatsoever. We have received confirmation that in a few days Mayuri-san, the future version, will contact us to bring us back to our time. I would also like to raise the point that silence on our part regarding events in the future may be wise. It would not benefit Seireitei or indeed the human world if the timeline were disrupted."
A half-bow indicates the end of his explanation.
A short silence ensues as Yamamoto creases his brow in silent evaluation of the man before him. Obviously not the whole truth, but rather a clever mix of lies with truths. The ryoka is clearly used to dealing with complex political situations, capable of switching personas to deal with authority. Exceedingly powerful. The comment about reiatsu reserves was not a lie.
In a few short sentences, the boy had established his apparent innocence, cleared his subordinate's name, balanced it off with an offhand threat regarding his strength, and managed to spin a well-weaved excuse for not giving them any more information.
Not to be underestimated, indeed.
"You have a sharp tongue, ryoka boy," Yamamoto remarks.
Ichigo smiles in that mock-humble way that most nobles do when complimented, and dips his head in thanks.
Yamamoto stands, bringing all the captains into attention once more. "I have made my decision. Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia are no longer to be classified as ryoka. Until they return to their time, they will be regarded as…guests. They are henceforth prohibited from any unnecessary release of their zanpakutuos, and Kurosaki-san will be required to wear reiatsu suppressors. Otherwise, they have free passage in Seireitei when accompanied by capable officers."
"Thank you, Oji-san," Ichigo replies, relaxing somewhat.
"I am not finished. You are not to be treated as hostile," Yamamoto continues, "but regardless of your power, child, if we are provoked, you will not live to see the next sunrise." It is neither a threat nor a warning, but rather a statement of fact.
Ichigo winces. "Of course," he says, sweeping into another low bow. He can feel Byakuya's eyes drilling into the back of head. He still has some explaining to do.
(BerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAKBerryBREAK)
The faint lights of the Kuchiki compound flicker and dance at the end of the street as Ichigo breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of soon to be rest and a good, long sleep.
Too tired and drained to shunpo, he has settled for a steady stride through the near-silent streets of Seireitei, the night air cool and crisp around him. Above, a full moon shines its soft, clear light, illuminating the folds of his shihakushuo and giving his white haori an incandescent glow.
The muted moonlight also rests on Rukia's sleeping form, held in his arms.
She breathes quietly, still under the influence of the medication given to her during her stay in the Fourth Division. An uncommonly soft expression passes over Ichigo's features as he looks down on his fukutaichou, whose face is half-buried in the crook of his arm.
A faint, silvery-white scar is all that remains of the gaping wound on Rukia's forehead that but hours ago gushed red. Her gloves are folded neatly on her stomach, someone of the Fourth having had the kindness to wash the crimson off them and handing them to Ichigo as he stepped out of the medic barracks.
A beaded bracelet hangs from each of Ichigo's wrists, impromptu reiatsu suppressors. He had refrained from mentioning that he could probably shatter ten of the bracelets with one pulse of reiatsu if he really wanted to. Nevertheless, they itch against his exposed skin, and in his mindscape, Zangetsu grumbles constantly.
Ichigo had gotten rid of both Byakuya and Ukitake shortly after the meeting, although they had more or less demanded an explanation about his association with Urahara. Ichigo hadn't messed with his words – he basically hinted at Urahara's innocence in regards to his expulsion from the Gotei without revealing too much, and the scientist's reinstatement. When asked by Ukitake why he did not say as much during the meeting, Ichigo bluntly stated that saying any more would seriously disrupt the timeline.
Byakuya was decidedly not satisfied with this answer, but Ichigo had given him a tired glare and reminded him that his sister's safety presently depended on whether she was classified as a threat to the Gotei, and so mentioning a traitor to the Soutaichou was unwise in such circumstances.
That shut the noble up quite quickly.
Afterwards, Ukitake had left, and Byakuya shunpo-ed off to arrange their stay at his household, leaving Ichigo to trudge to the Fourth Division to pick Rukia up.
With a start, Ichigo realises wearily that he has reached the gates of the Kuchiki compound. For an awkward few seconds, he contemplates how he is going to reach for that brass knocker without waking Rukia or slinging her over one shoulder. She is small, but not that small that he can hold her in the curve of one arm.
Whatever, I'll just kick the stupid thing.
He draws back a foot and is about to give a kick worthy of Karin's football drop-kicks when the double doors swing backwards without so much as a creak.
Three servants stand behind the gates, heads bowed in respect. A few years ago Ichigo would have been reflexively uneasy around such abject submission, but a combination of spending too much time around Rukia and visiting the house just to tick Byakuya off has effectively cured him of such awkwardness.
Striding past them with a slight nod, Ichigo kicks off his sandals as he steps into the house. One of the white-robed servants disappears with them, as the others motion to take Rukia from him.
"No," Ichigo states flatly, holding her closer. The two servants dither silently for a bit, eyes jumping nervously towards what Ichigo knows is Byakuya's study.
"Um, sir," one tries hesitantly, "It is a clan rule that members of the Kuchiki household live in entirely separate wings to guests."
Typical Kuchiki elitism. Ichigo does vaguely remember the existence of such a rule dividing all guests and clan members.
Not tonight, with Rukia like this.
"If Byakuya has a problem with me, he can take it up with me. I assume that there are guest rooms prepared for us?"
The servants balk.
"Of course, Kurosaki-sama."
"Lead the way." It is impossible to argue with Ichigo's tone of voice.
The two servants swallow, and comply wordlessly.
The servants glide like spectres through the silence of the Kuchiki compound, their bare feet soundless on the wooden floor. Ichigo follows, also silent.
One of them gestures gracefully, intoning, "The are two rooms just around the corner, Kurosaki-sama. Please do not hesitate to call if you require anything."
"Sure. Thanks. You can leave now. We'll be fine." A pointed look.
The servants hesitate for a moment longer, and then back away into the shadows.
Ichigo yawns tiredly and turns the corner, eyes once again focused down on Rukia's sleeping face.
A surprised yelp as he nearly crashes into another petite figure walking in the opposite direction.
Ichigo snaps his head up.
And he meets the slightly frightened violet eyes of Kuchiki Rukia, clad in her night yukata.
For a moment, they stare dumbfounded at each other, Ichigo trying to process the sight of a younger, shorter Rukia. So the midget did grow after all. But there is something more vulnerable in this Rukia – she seems smaller, somehow, even more than the unconscious figure in his arms. There is no fire in this girl's eyes, no smirking twist to her mouth, no laughing inclination for sudden violence towards her Strawberry.
The girl before him hunches her shoulders, her arms gathered against herself. There is an air of nervousness around her that speaks of an unfamiliar environment and an inability to live up to expectations.
Ichigo finds himself pitying her. She seems so different from the strong, independent woman that he knows.
Suddenly, he realises that he has been staring at her for the past five seconds with a look of intense scrutiny.
"Um…hi," he says, hand compulsively trying to reach backwards to rub at his neck but stopping at his fukutaichou's weight. "Sorry about that. Did I startle you?"
The younger Rukia shakes her head, venturing, "Kurosaki…taichou?"
Ichigo winces. Rukia almost never calls him by his title, and when she does it is always to mock him. To hear the honorific coming out of her mouth makes her seem like a stranger.
Then again, this Rukia is.
"Aa. I take it Byakuya told you about the, ah, situation?" Ichigo speaks softer than usual, tentative before this familiar yet not familiar girl.
"Hai." Rukia speaks even quieter than he does, her violet eyes glowing in the dark. She leans forward impulsively. "Is that…"
Ichigo shifts Rukia, nodding. "Yeah. I was just, um, putting you to sleep." Then he winces. He had just succeeded in making himself look like a fussy, overbearing parent.
Awkward. Awkwardawkwardawkward.
The Rukia standing there winces also, but a twitch of her eyebrow hints at a familiar sarcasm – Do I need to be tucked in?
"Right," she quips.
"Yeah."
A moment more of embarrassed staring.
"Goodnight, then," they both blurt out at the same time. Then she glides past him into the corridor beyond, and he is alone with one Rukia instead of two.
Ichigo blinks a couple times, then shakes his head and slides the door to Rukia's guestroom open with one foot.
He strides over to the bed and carefully lays Rukia down, placing her gloves on the bedside table and leaning Zangetsu and Sode no Shirayuki on the headboard. Ichigo reaches for her sandals and eases them off her feet, arranging them at the foot of the bed. He gently pulls the covers over her slight form and closes the door to block off the night chill.
Only then does he pick up the chair by the desk and bring it over to the bedside, sinking down into it with a sigh of relief.
He spends a minute just studying her face, and how the silver moonlight plays over her delicate features.
Ichigo rubs his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to ease his growing headache. It is at times like this, when she seems so defenseless just lying there, that Ichigo feels an overpowering need to protect her against everything. He knows that Rukia is nearly captain level in strength, and that she obviously resents him for underplaying her role in missions, but he just can't help himself.
I'm a fukutaichou, Ichigo! Your fukutaichou! Her eyes, ablaze with fury.
The memory surfaces unbidden to his mind. He growls at it, batting it away.
Rukia shifts at the sound, mumbling something incoherent.
Ichigo quiets immediately, scared of waking her. A strand of hair is in her slightly drooling mouth. He smiles, and reaches out to brush it away from her face.
He knows that he is being too overprotective. Just as he knows that she is going to beat him up for it, someday. But Ichigo really can't help it, Rukia is his…
Best friend? Subordinate? Resident midget?
Ichigo stops thinking about it before his brain strays to dangerous territory.
He tucks her in tighter against the cold, eyes never leaving her face. Somehow Ichigo needs to see her there in front of him for a bit longer, convince himself that Rukia, his Rukia is still here, not gone and replaced by that stranger he had passed in the corridor outside.
In his tiredness, he had nearly allowed himself to forget that they weren't actually safe in Seireitei. His dad had seemed much the same, and that lulled him into a false sense of security. Walking into a different Rukia had been a shock, the final hammerblow.
They aren't safe.
And tomorrow, he would have to explain to Rukia that they were trapped in a past filled with living ghosts from her memory, a brother that doesn't act like the one she knows, and old enemies around the corner.
Oh, he's tired.
Ichigo pulls his chair closer to Rukia. He would stay a while, and watch over her.
The moonlight dances over her raven hair.
A little longer, a little longer…
The moon peeks through a window at a taichou and his fukutaichou, both soundly asleep.
Did you like that? Was it cute? I do apologise for the over-amount of talking in this chapter, it just had to be done for logical purposes. And I also apologise that Rukia spent all of this chapter out of it, she will be alive and kicking butt in the next chapter, I promise.
Please review! Reviews are the best encouragement and actually make me write faster. Next chapter is going to be complicated, probably – enter Kaien. I hope.