I promised it wouldn't be so long this time :) I still haven't been watching Bleach much lately, though I have been reading the manga religiously as ever... all very intriguing at the moment, even if it's all fight and not much story.
Anyway, to those who've read my Code Geass oneshots lately, I apologise for neglecting this story in the meantime, but the Muse is capricious and a couple of prompted oneshots have done me the world of good at kicking her lazy arse into gear.
This chapter.. well, things are starting to hot up a bit over the next couple chapters. This is also a fairly heavy RenRuki chapter, partially because I swore to make things up to Renji for beating him up a few chapters ago, and also because... well, you'll see. And it has nothing to do with the fact thatI have a thing for long hair and tattoos. Ahem. I keep switching the character classifications for this story around for the sake of getting more readers (and reviews) so sorry if that's confusing... hard to pick which of the 4 main characters this story is best for!
Hugs to everyone who reviewed last time, and especially to Tango Dancer and Vivienne Grainger who have stuck with it all the way through so far :) It's great to know I didn't lose your interest by taking so long to update!
Rukia is still awake, staring at the ceiling, when she feels the rapid approach of familiar reiatsu. Glancing sideways at the other bed in the small room, she is relieved to see Orihime slumbering peacefully. The girl had been distraught; not really surprising – she had been face-to-face, literally, with the reality that Ichigo, their Ichigo, had been turned into a monster.
Rukia, though at times somewhat oblivious to the 'male-female thing' when it involved herself (Renji had once rather pointedly explained the nuances of a hundred occasions he'd flirted with her and she had never noticed, in a tone that spoke volumes of both amusement and frustration), was not so oblivious when she saw it in others. The girl admired Ichigo, saw in him his loyalty, his pride, but especially his strength. His general pig-headedness didn't seem to put her off, either (Rukia allows herself a small smile at that). Rukia recognised the way Orihime would laugh nervously whenever Ichigo's name came up, the way she would blush slightly and her eyes would slide to the side. Rukia had also recognised that soft, sweet smile Orihime used to wear watching Ichigo when she thought no-one was looking.
And Ichigo… she had been less sure about him. He was, in his own way, as oblivious as she herself was to attention from the opposite sex. But he had always been different with Orihime. Gentler. Not like he was with Rukia herself, with the squabbling and the name-calling and the occasional good-natured slap or kick (well…. mostly good-natured). He looked after Orihime. And that… well, maybe that meant something. Ichigo was confusing, and he showed much the same tenderness toward his little sisters. But sometimes she thought, just maybe….
Pulling herself out of her thought she slips out of bed as quietly as she can, wrapping her kimono around herself. Padding to the bed, she opens it slowly, careful not to wake the sleeping girl as she steps out of the room and heads down the corridor to the double room she was now sharing with Renji.
Their room is dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. She doesn't switch the lights on, instead allowing herself the indulgence of just watching. He is presumably getting ready for sleep – the kimono slipping from his shoulders to be tossed carelessly over the back of a chair, one hand reaching up to tug the bandana from around his forehead, dropping it casually on the desk. She watches the play of muscles under his skin as he turns to face her, the moonlight rippling over the black lines on the tan skin as he tugs out the thong binding his ponytail and red hair cascades down over his shoulders.
Her breath catches. He looks exotic, wild, beautiful, and she feels her heart begin to pound in her chest. Had he really been there, hers for the taking, all this time? How had it taken her so long to notice that the skinny, belligerent child had turned into this proud warrior?
He doesn't move, as if he's waiting for her, and she walks slowly across the room. It almost seems like if she moves too quickly then the moment will break and shatter. Rukia runs a hand softly over the jagged black lines of the broad chest, lines she has traced into her memory. Smirking softly to herself, she moves her hand lower, to the tattoos that run over his abdomen, relishing the way the muscles tense under her fingers and the soft hiss of breath she gets in response.
And then strong arms wrap around her, dwarfing her in his hold, as Renji lifts her off her feet. She wraps her legs comfortably around his waist as he carries her to the bed and lays her down, before covering her small body with his large one.
Even caught in the moment as she is, she can't help but notice the prickle of tension in his reiatsu, the way his kisses seem more hungry than normal, almost… desperate? And some tiny part of her wonders what on earth had happened, even as his knowing fingers tease pleasure out of every sensitive spot of her body, until heat and desire overwhelm that one tiny bit of logic and she buries her hands deep into the thick mane with a moan.
She swims lazily through layers of drowsiness, lulled by the comfortable warmth at her side, lost in pleasant memories of the night before. However, her gentle awakening is marred by the prickling tension, a prickle that tickles at her half-awoken brain.
Out of habit, she rolls to her side, curling against strong muscle, tucking her head into the familiar warmth of a strong shoulder and sighing in contentment as a tattooed arm draws her closer. That tension… why was Renji so wound up? For that matter, why was he awake before her…?
Realisation startles her awake and she pulls herself to her elbow, her slap automatically connecting just above the redhead's ear.
"Were you trying to distract me last night?" Rukia demands, glowering down at her surprised lover.
He rubs his head almost absently, glowering back at her. "Yeah, good mornin' to you too," he mutters grumpily, then a slow smirk spreads over his face. "You started it. 'Sides, if I remember right, you didn't take much distractin'…"
Rukia blushes, and automatically buries her head back into the comfortable warmth of Renji's shoulder. They stay in silence like that for a while, each revelling in the closeness of the other, until Rukia lifts her head, tenting her fingers against a pectoral, and rests her chin against her hands to watch his face.
"Urahara can't help, can he?"
She sees his jaw clench, feels Renji tense beneath her, and then he's moving, pulling away from her. She pulls the covers around her as he sits and runs a hand through tangled red locks.
"Renji?"
"He can help. Or he thinks, anyway." She can see the tension in his back and hear the undercurrent beneath the smooth voice even as he stands and pads across the room to grab his hair tie, totally unembarrassed by his nakedness.
"He thinks?"
Renji turns to her and sighs, even as his eyes sweep over her. "Get dressed. The others'll be down at breakfast soon. Might as well tell all of ya at once."
She frowns at his back as he vanishes into the bathroom, rolling over to stare blankly at the ceiling as she listens to the splash of the shower.
"So he can help?" Orihime's eyes are bright, her voice brittle with hope.
Rukia watches both friend and boyfriend worriedly as Renji scratches at the back of his neck, the way he does when he's nervous.
"Yeah. Seems like he's been plannin' for this for a while."
"He knew something was wrong with Kurosaki, didn't he?" Ishida's voice is as sharp as his gaze, a hint of righteous anger in his voice. There may be little love lost between the two boys, but each recognised each other's strength – even though neither would ever admit to it.
"Yeah." Renji sighs. "Fact is, it was probably his fault."
There's a silence, each waiting for Renji to explain. When he doesn't, Rukia prompts him softly.
"Renji?"
"Happened after me an'…" A pause, a grimace. "After me an' Kuchiki-taicho came down here to get Rukia." He shots Rukia a glance, eyes full of shame. "What Kuchiki-taicho did to Ichigo - Ichigo shouldn't 'a been able to be a Shinigami again."
"Except he did become a Shinigami again. I always wondered how that happened." Ishida adjusts his glasses, frowning in interest. "I assume Urahara had something to do with that?"
Renji nods. "Aye, s'right. Crazy fuckin' trick, too. He pulled Ichigo's spirit outta his body, and cut his saketsu."
Ishida's eyes widen, and Rukia gasps as the horror of what that could have meant rushes through her.
"He did what?! That damn shopkeeper… I knew he couldn't be trusted! Oh, he's so going to regret that when I next see him…" She seethes quietly, until Orihime raises a tentative hand.
"Ummm…. sumimasen… what's a saketsu?"
"It's the chain that binds a soul to its body," Ishida explains, his voice tight with anger. "When its cut, it erodes over time. The soul must go to Soul Society by the time it finishes eroding, or they become a hollow."
Orihime's horrified gasp echoes in the following silence.
"The idea was that with that cut, Ichigo would have to find his own shinigami powers before he turned into a hollow." Renji's voice is low. "'Cept the kid was a bit slow, an' he couldn't find 'em in time – he started turnin', and Urahara thought they might have to destroy him."
Rukia's fists are so tight by this point that she feels her nails biting crescent-shaped marks into her palm. Ichigo… Ichigo had gone through that to help her…
She sees the worried glance that Renji sends her, but he keeps speaking.
"Then at the last minute, he found his powers. Went full Shinigami. But Urahara reckons he's still got the hollow side of him, too… reckons that's what happened, the hollow sorta… fused with him, took over."
"But… he thinks he can bring Ichigo back, right?"
"He's been workin' on something since then. Like a… stasis field or summat. Thinks he can trap Ichigo in it, and then we can take him back to Soul Society or the Shouten and try to bring him back."
"So we can help him!" Orihime's voice is bright, her smile like sunshine.
"Yeah."
Rukia notes the way Renji's eyes slide away from them all, the edge to his voice.
"How do we do it, Renji?" It's a challenge, and he knows it – she can tell by the way his shoulders stiffen.
"As he is… he's too strong for it to work first time. We gotta wear him down a bit."
Silence.
"What… what does that mean?" Orihime's voice is brittle, afraid.
To everyone's surprise, it's Chad who answers. "We need to fight Ichigo."
Renji's brief nod is answer enough.
"But…!"
"Only to tire him, till we can get him in the trap. We don't hafta hurt him." Renji says, and Orihime subsides, blinking unhappily.
"And how, exactly, are we supposed to tire that thing?" Ishida frowns, his eyes glaring a hole into the table. "It's stronger than all of us."
"Ichigo's still in there," Renji sighs, scratching at the back of his neck again. "We know he won't go for Orihime… he might not go for Sado or Rukia, either. Urahara reckons that if we're all there, it'll distract him, weaken him a bit."
Another silence.
"What about you?" Rukia tries to find Renji's eyes, but he evades her gaze. "He nearly tore you apart last time!"
"Yeah, well," And now Renji raises his eyes, and the look in them sends fear like a knife-blade to Rukia's heart. Kami, she knows that look – defiance and anger and determination, all the things that make Renji Renji… and she knows what he'll say even before he opens his mouth.
"Guess I owe that idiot a beatin' to make up for last time." The cocky grin is sharp as his blade, but brittle, oh so brittle, and the icy fear sinks its claws deeper.
Ishida snorts contemptuously. "You can't beat him."
"You fancy your chances, Quincy?" The two trade glares.
"I'm saying that neither of us can beat him. He was strong before – like this, he's stronger."
"I'm the leader of this party." Renji's voice is cool, but there's fire, anger beneath it. "So I'm gonna make sure that none of you get hurt. 'Sides, I'm the only one who's fought Ichigo before, and I know his moves." Red eyes flick to her. "Rukia, you're gonna protect the others. Make sure he doesn't get to 'em."
"We should call for back-up." The words are out of her mouth before she's had time to call them back. "Nii-sama would…"
Renji pulls back as if she's slapped him, and she sees the flicker of disbelief in his eyes. "No."
"Don't be an idiot, Renji! Ishida's right, he's stronger than all of us!"
"Kuchiki-taicho sent me here to deal with it. I ain't goin' runnin' for help!" Rukia curses him in that moment, his pigheadedness, his absolute determination to always be strong and never show weakness.
"Then we fight him together." She meets his glare evenly, steel in her eyes and voice.
"Like hell we do!" Renji explodes. "You guys need to stay out of it! I'm the strongest, so I'm the one who fights him!"
Rukia is out of her seat in a second, leaning across the table to grab a handful of shihakusho.
"He'll kill you!"
She sees the betrayal in deep red eyes at her words, and then his look hardens and cools into the sharp steel of determination, even as Renji pulls her hand away from his clothing and stalks away.
They sit there in silence, thoughts running round and round in Rukia's head. Renji, bloodied and almost dead, after that last fight. The pain of losing her friends, one by one. How long it had taken her to recover from each death, how each one took a little piece of her heart with them. How large that hole would be if she lost Renji.
How she both loved and hated that determination, that fire to fight even against the most unlikely odds. As Matsumoto had told her gently once, 'You can take the idiot out of the 11th, but you can't take the 11th out of the idiot.'
Then Orihime extends a hand, laying it gently over Rukia's.
"He'll be alright," she murmurs earnestly. "We'll make sure of it, Kuchiki-san. I promise."
Another image of Renji, broken and bloodied and crumpled on the ground at the point of that thing's sword, flashes through her mind. And then Ichigo, dying, and still grabbing the hem of Byakuya's shihakusho…
It had been her fault… all of it. If she hadn't failed to protect his family… if she hadn't interfered with Ichigo's destiny… if she hadn't tried to hide her crime… he would never have been a Shinigami, he would never have had his powers destroyed, he would never have needed Urahara's crazy schemes…
All to rescue her…
They were so alike, Ichigo and Renji. So stubborn, so determined, so defiant in their need to be stronger than everyone else, to protect everyone. If either one of them got hurt in this mess, it would be her fault…
And Renji… he had wanted to be strong to save her, to help her... He would hate her for interfering, would think she believed he wasn't strong enough…
But this was her mess, and maybe this once she could make it right. Maybe she could be the one to save them.
Even if it meant that Renji would hate her... it was better than… than…
"I have to make a call." She can barely hear her own voice over the thumping of her heart, but she can hear it is perfectly steady, just as her face is perfectly expressionless. Kuchiki training had drilled this into her; that a Kuchiki was untouchable, that turmoil below the surface was not to be shown by voice or deed. She walks away from the table, reaching for her phone and mechanically dialling the number.
Renji, forgive me.
"Nii-sama." Her voice is perfectly smooth, but inside fear clenches her heart so tightly she wonders that it doesn't stop altogether. "Your unworthy sister humbly begs your favour."
Yeah, sooooo... Renji's my favourite character, which probably explains why I insist of fucking with his head. I'm clearly going to hell.
I still struggle at writing group conversations, hope it read ok.
The japanese terminology: Sumimasen = 'excuse me', Kami = God, and as you probably gathered by the explanation Saketsu is the soul chain, at least according to Bleach Wiki (strangely enough it's not a word that has ever come up during my japanese classes, nor is it one I can manage to put together via words I do know, since according to my dictionary ketsu apparently means ass).
As ever, I hope you enjoyed reading, and reviews are love :)