She's Like the Moon Chapter 15: Let Me Sign, a bleach fanfic

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She's Like the Moon, an xSilverWingsx fanfic

In my fantasy, you look good entwined in my hair and skin and sweat and spilled red wine. You're my deep secret. I'm your pantomime.

-Incubus

Toshiro exhaled deeply, pulling in another drag on his cigarette. Soon he would try out for soccer, his best sport, but then why was he so nervous? This and other conundrums bounced around in his mind. Where was Rukia? And since it was Friday, what would he do in his dorm after tryouts? He pushed the thoughts away and gazed at the sky. It was barely twilight, blooms of purple and pink still fluctuating behind the evening cloud cover. His teal orbs roamed the field, taking in its extensive length. But the blades had already begun to yellow. This being a new school, it was a shame for lethargy this early.

It was somewhat cold as well, his arms slightly chilled, but he liked it. If he made the team, it would be an excuse to spend more time outside. He tipped the cigarette ashes into the box. Needless to say, their presence on the field wouldn't be in any way beneficial.

"Hey, Hitsugaya." Hideki was suddenly leaning against the fence next to him. Toshiro exhaled a flurry of smoke, and the dark haired man blinked at the billowing waves. "...I didn't know you were into that." He seemed sharp and alert to everything Toshiro was doing now.

"I self-medicate," he explained dryly, dropping the spent cigarette into the carton. "Now, when are these tryouts?"

Hideki glanced at his watch. "Uh... they should start soon."

"I see." Teal orbs looked at the ground.

"So what position do you play?" Hideki asked, suddenly curious.

"Why?" Toshiro gave him a blank look.

If you don't want me around her, why are you being so nice to me?

The tall man sighed. "I'm just wondering." His eyes were a deep orange color, with flecks of brown and green near the pupils. Toshiro found himself glaring. What the hell was wrong with this guy? He had no idea of what it was like to be trounced by the very people who brought him into the world. From day one.

And then he remembered the bruise on Senna's leg. It made him even angrier on the inside.

"…I'm an all around player," Toshiro replied shakily, leaning over slipping the cigarette box in his duffel bag nearby to hide his disturbing expression. He had to try to get the box inside. Once. Twice. Three times. His body wouldn't follow him. "And… you? What position are you… in basketball?"

I don't want to talk to you, Hideki Shuurin. I didn't want to meet you…

"Guard," Hideki murmured.

"SHIRO!" shrieked a highly resonant voice.

Toshiro's nervous system felt a jolt. All of his spikes seemed to be on end. Momo? He hadn't… she… he hadn't noticed her earlier. The brunette stood near the school's entrance, in knee socks and shorts, a loose T-shirt hanging over her frame.

He blinked convulsively. "Momo?" his voice cracked. Momo, his friend, the one he'd screamed at and forced off the property.

"Hi, Shiro!" she called to him. "I didn't know you were trying out for soccer! Cool!"

And she was the one with the short attention span. "Well, I… you know I like soccer…" he said almost incoherently.

She giggled. "Yeah, I know! Do you know where the volleyball tryouts are!? I'm so lost!" she pleaded, hair slightly messy. Apparently she'd been running around – not surprising. Momo had always been a little harebrained.

Where did volleyball typically take place? "I'd try the –"

Hideki cut him off. "They're in the gym."

Momo's brown eyes were startled. "…Thanks!" Apparently, after seeing him with Toshiro, Momo had decided Hideki was innocent enough.

Damn, not her too…

"Bye, Shiro!" she waved a thin hand and bolted back into the building.

Ah, Momo. If you had a longer attention span, I'd apologize but you've probably already forgotten.

"Your friend?" asked Hideki, sounding genuinely curious.

The bastard.

"Yes."

And then he got what he wanted. Blessed silence – at least for a few moments. For some reason the air was a bit warmer, which irked him. Its consistency was also a little thin, something he did not need. Oxygen was already being lamented by his throat, as the biting air lacerated the inside of his mouth and always made him feel sick. He held on to the fence, resisting the urge to backhand the man next to him.

Senna walked – bounced was more accurate, because her feet didn't seem to crunch the dying grass – across the field, a thin white lollipop stick protruding from shell-pink lips. Clinging to her unadorned body were matching sweats: a blue stretch tank top and Capri pants. She noticed them. "Hi!"

"What are you doing here?"

Toshiro's eyes slashed red behind their sockets.

And he acts like she's annoying him.

Hideki raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going for volleyball."

Senna frowned. "I don't like volleyball, smart one, I was kidding." She easily threw one leg over the fence and hopped with the other, landing somewhat ungracefully next to Toshiro. "Hi, Toshi!" she appeared to have just noticed his presence.

He balked somewhat on the inside, but kept his cool. "Hello, Senna."

"I came to watch the tryouts!" she said happily, pulling out the orange lollipop that was glowing in the moonlight. "But… there's nobody here…hm." She frowned and stuck the candy back inside her mouth.

"You did?" somehow, she didn't strike Toshiro as a sporty girl. Then again, many people thought Rukia was shy when they first met her. First impressions could be deceiving.

"Toshiro's an all around, right Toshiro?"

What the hell do you think we're doing, Shuurin?

"I… well, yes…"

She seemed confused for a moment. Then – "COOL, TOSHI!"

"…Thank you…" Well. At least there's one upside to this.

Across town, it was also cold. Renji was going to hate leaving his warm car and trudging through the frost-enveloped grass. He sighed unhappily and picked up the grocery bags nudged under the seat, tearing one in the process and sending cans into the backseat. Damn plastic.

Somehow he managed to stuff it all into one bag and, after slamming the car door shut with his foot, shuffled across the freezing lawn. The front door waited welcomingly, but it wasn't locked. His forehead bowed into a frown. Akamori never left the house.

When the door swung open, the bags tumbled to the floor.

A state of turmoil met his eyes. Pillows lay across the foyer, their downy guts spilling onto the muddy carpet. The pendulum from the clock was broken and covered in down, and a vase lay shattered in the corner, and there was a large tear in the wallpaper. Broken glass littered the floor. Renji realized with a growing horror that he'd been right.

Akamori hadn't left the house. But someone had come calling.

He forgot the groceries and called her name.

No answer.

Is she all right?

His heart thumped ridiculously fast, feet following in its rhythm as he raced the stairs and the hallway and his door. It had always been stubborn but today it gave him no trouble. And time moved in what seemed like something a million times slower than seconds.

No.

She lay in the corner, hair matted with blood. Renji could smell it from across the room. Black and blue legs were twisted at an odd angle, and her hands were almost entirely red, curled over the stomach swollen with his child.

His legs failed him and he fell down on her, arms encircling the damaged body. She smelled like Akamori, but the beaten creature couldn't be her… he moved the ebony hair from her blood-splattered face, which was remarkably the same pure white in areas, with three gashes stretching from her forehead across her nose, down to her cheek. Renji felt himself twitch as he felt along her gashed neck.

What the hell was I thinking?

A few moments later, he saw miracle-like movement behind the thin eyelids. The slightest glimmer of light could be seen as they opened, and the amber eyes were almost black. Feeling re-entered his body…

"Akamori?"

She made a strangled noise in her throat. But this part wasn't at all expected. "…broken tree…" she croaked in a parched voice. "…struck the sky. Let me sign."

"What?" he knew she wasn't all there, and he couldn't expect anything more out of her. But then she continued.

"…tell him," she said, and this sounded as if she had feeling behind it. "Just please tell him for me." She was staring, determined, into his eyes. "Please."

He felt like the world had been swallowed away. "Tell him what?" even though he hadn't the faintest clue of who 'he' was, everything inside pulled him to ask. A few droplets of blood fell from her mouth onto his jeans. "Akamori?"

Renji yanked out his cell phone and dialed 911.

Define the following.

Zhonghua

minzu

Yayue

Qiu

Ying

Rukia stared at the paper. None of this made a fragment of since to her, seeing as she'd spent yesterday's Chinese class dancing to Matchbox 20. With stiff fingers she tapped Ichigo's desk, but he just shrugged and shook his head. Again. He was not helping in the academic department, but she had a hunch that he was pretty sharp. Zhonghua minzu… that sounded like some kind of Chinese pie.

"Pass your papers forward," said Soifon, who had insisted upon being called Soifon for some reason unbeknownst to them all. Pinyin Chinese translated it to Shaolin Fon. She was a petite, slender woman with black hair in cloth braids and cold grey eyes. "If you didn't get done take it with you."

Rukia folded the paper into eighths and slipped it in her lapel pocket, but as soon as she had done so a low groan escaped her lips. PE next. Spectacular. The youngest Kuchiki followed an oddly quiet Ichigo to the dorm, and was even more surprised when he threw her her gym bag. Usually she would have to get it on her own or something. Regardless, now…

"Rukia Kuchiki has a phone call in the office," said a voice over the intercom, and Rukia felt herself frown. Her mother? No… Byakuya?

"Ichigo, I'll see you soon," she murmured, walking past the confused carrot top. She heard a noise of confusion omit from him, and he followed her into the hall, disheveled as he was.

"Rukia? What is it?" he asked. "Rukia!" he called, frown so deep it looked fused to his face.

"I don't know," she said. Ichigo, please. Just go to PE. "Ichigo, just go."

Ichigo watched her closely. Her round violet eyes were worried, an inflection he'd never seen in them. She was too put together for that stuff. "Hey."

"Yes?" she was on a mission and was not going to turn around at this point. When Byakuya called, there was no time for games.

"Damn it, Rukia…" he shook his head, at a loss for words.

After bidding farewell to Ichigo, Rukia took the elevator to the office. The phone waited on hold, and when she tried to catch one of the Assistants' eyes, they were all too busy to give her any further information. That figured. With stiff fingers she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Rukia." Her heart sank. It was her father. "Are you all right?" Byakuya sounded concerned and his tone was hollow.

"Yes, I'm okay, I am," she stammered, nodding repeatedly. Her hair bobbed up and down, strands sticking to her already sweaty forehead. "What's happened?" a lot of things were possible with her mother. Had she gotten worse… or even better?

He sighed, despondently.

She felt her whole body go up in shock. Her father? Emotionally freaked out like this?

"Rukia. Your sister just went into labor."

Mhm, so that's the end of that chapter. I apologize if parts got a little… horrid. It's 6 AM, and I was up all night writing this chapter in one sitting. Hhh… It's still too short. …Oh well. I promise the next one will be better, but you might have to wait a little while for it. I'm in some kind of dead state right now where I'm still on and thinking. Honestly, I'm not blinking as I type this. If there are typos I will personally put my computer in time-out. And if spaces are bad, my apologies as well. My space bar is loosening. Damn. All right well, I'd really like reviews… I'll return the favor, if you're a user… and if you're anonymous we'll work something out.

Love from the nocturnal xSilverWingsx