Thanks so much to you guys for reading my author's note and being so nice to me in my time of need! (Whoa. I am not that third-world, but you get the picture.) Anyway, this'll be half-ByaHisa and half IchiRuki (but I plan on it being mostly IchiRuki :D), so you people should be happy! And the chapter is insanely long... consider it my present to you! Merry Christmas!
She's Like the Moon, an xSilverWingsx fanfic
Oily marks appear on walls where pleasure moments hung before the takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this... still life.
-Imogen Heap
Hisana's Point of View
April 1990
It's finally my big break. I'm going with Mr. Kuchiki to Saitama! I thought as I pored over the memo, my eyes alight. Up until then, I hadn't done anything but sit at the desk and check email... but now I could go see the sights! I smiled. I had never been out of Karakura town since I was six, but that had only been Tokyo. Everyone had been there.
Mr. Kuchiki opened the door and walked in quietly as he always did. I smiled at him, but he gave me a nod. That was good enough, just as long as I got to leave Karakura Town.
Maybe I would watch the gulls fly off into the sunset...
"Hisana," he said.
"Yes, sir?" I was armed with pen and paper. Nothing was going unwritten.
"You may take the day off and pack your things."
Somehow that seemed a little alien. I loved working here so much, and a day off... well, to me it was annoying to leave work. I made a lot of money and I had also made friends with the other secretaries. But if I didn't pack tonight, I would probably forget something. "Yes, sir."
Mr. Kuchiki got back to that paper he was writing. I tried to see it but the blurry mess of letters reminded me I was nearsighted, so I gave up. I logged onto the computer, but he had utilized an auto-reply system for the trip, so no one had left anything.
I looked around again for something to do, but... it seemed like I'd already done everything. My teeth came down on my lips. If I weren't so eager to do everything I'd probably be able to spend more time around here,the voice in my head reminded. I let out a sigh.
"Is there something upsetting you?" Mr. Kuchiki asked in a low voice, looking up again from that seemingly important paper.
I shook my head furiously.
"N-no, no! I'm just fine." I smiled to show him so, but it came out more like a grimace. He looked down again, but this time his expression had changed to that of... it was just as if he were confused and slightly upset at the same time, which was again odd. "So, um..."
"So?"
"So, like... what do you have to do in Saitama?" I asked, failing miserably at conversation.
"I have a meeting with the firm's representatives," he said, face reposing back to the emotionless stare. I nodded again, more vigorously this time, and tapped my fingers on the keys. He noticed but didn't seem slightly perturbed. "If you like, you may stay in the office until later..."
I jumped up out of my seat, startling him a little. "Okay! You can count on me." As soon as the words came out, I cursed myself. Damn! I always acted so peppy all the time when there was work to be done.
Mr. Kuchiki gave a very soft nod and looked at his computer. "Considering I don't have anything else to do today..." he turned back to me, then down to his paper. I was on tenterhooks. What was he going to say? Were we going to visit Mr. Kurosaki? That would sure be fun. "Have you eaten?"
I didn't feel hungry, but I couldn't remember my last meal. When you ate as little as I did then, the hunger stops after a while. "I haven't today, sir, no." The air was thick with confusion. Usually when he wanted me to go and eat, he told me, and I went alone. I knew he was nice... somewhere. And that he worried about me, too. But this man, Mr. Kuchiki, was not the type to take people out to eat. He just wasn't built that way... or so it seemed at the time.
"I'm obliged to take you to lunch," he said quietly, standing with his lithe dancer's grace. I was already standing, so I sort of stood awkwardly there for a few moments before snatching my coat up off my chair and slipping it on. The leathery coat was too big for me, but it was fleece on the inside. I followed him down the stairs, since according to him, elevators were just a showcase for laziness. I had agreed, but I liked elevators. They were easier.
For some odd reason, he didn't call his car to come and get us. Not that I minded, because I usually looked out-of-place next to him. I followed Mr. Kuchiki down the road to a simple coffee shop I wouldn't expect him to even look at, let alone enter.
I paid for my own coffee, but he didn't order anything. I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, sipping it, before he spoke.
"If you do not sit, you'll spill that."
I swallowed and the coffee scalded my throat. With one quick movement I scurried to the nearest table and plopped down in the chair, looking at the buttons on my coat. They were shaped like tiny flowers, and I was missing one...
He slid into the chair next to me and rested his hands in his lap. I realized that a man was more courteous than me, but that didn't make me pick my elbows up off the table. I sat my coffee down. "So," I said. "What's going on?" T
his wasn't anything strange or alarming. I was just wondering about the sudden lunch.
Mr. Kuchiki closed his eyes and opened them again. "Some things have been worrying me, Hisana."
In contrast to the rest of his face, the heather-gray eyes were distraught. His hands were, to my intense surprise, a bit fidgety.
I exhaled, trying not to look too confused. "I see."
"These things are very difficult for me... to say to you. I haven't the slightest clue why they've happened in the beginning. It honestly irritates me, because I can't figure out why." His voice was so soft, I could barely hear it at all. But what I did hear scared me. His voice was breaking. I was freaking out.
Was I going to get fired? Was Mr. Kuchiki getting sick? I swallowed at least three times. Four, maybe. I wasn't counting. There wasn't enough saliva to swallow my conscience.
"What is it, sir? I-I've been working as hard as I can, because even though I don't qualify at all, I am smart and I try to --"
"Hisana." At this point, I started to notice the dark, bruise-colored shadows underneath his eyes. "That is not the problem. You have a better work ethic than any of my past secretaries, make no mistake..." he closed his eyes again, but held them longer. "I need to tell you soon, or I think I may do something I'll regret."
"Yes, sir, well, please! I'm confused, please, put it another way." This was baffling me. Aw, crap. I hated it when this happened. "Mr... Kuchiki," I added.
A shadow crossed his face. "If you truly want to know, I should tell you. In a few short words... you are intriguing to me on a powerful level."
I blinked. "I don't understand." The words were neither short or easy to understand, at least not for me. I had never been able to pay attention in school... one word caught my attention. Intriguing. Well, of course I would intrigue Mr. Kuchiki; a poor girl with very little experience in any field would most likely be interesting to anyone. "Please, just word that some other way."
The pale man's aristocratic face wasn't calm; he was still a bit perturbed. "Hisana, it doesn't help me to bottle things away. There are many ways in which this is correlated to you, most of them in fact. Physical affection and emotional affection are two different --"
It hit me then.
"M-M-Mr... Kuchiki..."
He was quiet as my coffee shook in my hands. There was just no way. I was a girl who worked at the office. Just a kid.I had just stopped losing my baby teeth two years ago! I felt my fingers go numb. I wasn't ready for anything like that...
I could not be... I wasn't... he had to have been... it had to have been another one of those rare jokes he would tell.
Mr. Kuchiki's face was not in any way a joke. "...Hisana."
The steaming coffee fell off the table, I was shaking so badly. It spilled on my shoes, and I felt the hot liquid on my toes. It burned. "Mr. Kuchiki," I said again, but nothing else would escape me. The shock was so glaring and strong, no thoughts were going on in my head. He was the most silent, quiet, refined man. How had he confessed something like that to a teenager? The reason was impossible for me.
His tone was gentle, but sad.
"I've frightened you."
"N-no, of course not, Mr. Kuchiki sir! I-I'm just kind of clumsy. Uhm... well, I-I just--"
"You are frightened," he sighed as I mopped up the coffee and tried not to cry in confusion. I didn't know what I should say. That I was flattered... or not? Was I? Mr. Kuchiki was certainly a ... beautiful man, if anything. The icy planes of his cheeks and his soft heather-gray eyes took my breath from me, but I couldn't ever say that. He was probably married. I felt a sick swooping feeling in the pit of my belly. If Mr. Kuchiki was married... no, no.
"Are you married?" I blurted.
He certainly seemed surprised, irises expanding. "No, I am not." The rest of his face seemed the same.
"Oh." Well, at least he wasn't married. But why had I suspected he was? Moreover, why had I cared at all? I stood up. "W-well, sir, I'll see you at the office tomorrow...and, and I'll bring t-t-ea!"
Mr. Kuchiki stared at me, long and hard.
"Goodbye for now, Hisana."
I gasped inside. I felt odd. I felt hot. Flames licked my entire body. To make matters worse, I felt a powerful yearning... for something. I couldn't tell what... and it scared me that I didn't know. "B-bye... sir."
Rukia watched as her father's car disappeared into the shroud of this late winter evening, her mother's hand waving rapid goodbyes. The raven haired girl smiled in their direction and turned around, ready for bed. It was Friday after all, and she had a lot of relaxing to do. Her eyelids, come to think of it, were a bit droopy. Rukia exhaled slowly and climbed the steps back to the main gate.
I'm finally back here, she thought, even though I haven't even been gone that long. Maybe I was just bored. Being forced to wait in the hallway like a small child had struck chords with her. She had been a little mad at her sister for not letting her stay. But there was nothing she could do about it now.
The elfin girl grasped the cool metal handle of the front door, but somehow felt eyes on her. She exhaled cautiously, trying not to appear scared. There wasn't anyone... she could see, but Rukia knew when she was being followed. The back of her neck prickled like a heartbeat, but it was colder than that. Be quiet, her father's voice chastised in her mind. Look forward and stand tall. If you're confident, odds are you won't be an easy target. She had hated having the 'safety' conversation with him, but now it was coming in handy.
At last she met the face of the man watching her, under the tree near the lab building. He was tall and thin with bright silver hair... and a face reminiscent of a fox, complete with grinning mouth and wide eyes that seemed to glint despite the fact that they were closed.
She swallowed, feeling the saliva slither down her throat. It was as cold as his eyes. She looked at the ground, but then, remembering Byakuya's advice, looked up again and away from this man. He made her blood run cold and she needed to go upstairs.
There her Chinese homework waited... and so did Ichigo, who was probably eating food he would not share with her. With that in mind Rukia smiled a little and pushed the door open, leaving the mysterious man in her wake.
The main lobby area was milling with those who had tried out for sports, but Rukia didn't spot her cousin among them, so she continued to fast walk through the room. She knew he wasn't following her—how would that look?—but just wanted to get as far away as possible. She didn't look anywhere other than forward as she climbed the stairs to the elevator shaft, and punched the button with all her strength. It seemed like a thousand years before she reached her door and pounded on it at least seven times, once with her foot.
At last it opened to reveal Ichigo, his hair falling around his face, dripping with water. "Rukia?" he asked, blinking.
"Yes, it's me!" she panted. "Let me in!" Rukia didn't want to give him any explanations but felt immensely relieved to be back to the dormitory at last. Inside it was still bare, other than the couch on which rested a steaming bowl of ramen.
Ichigo's frown deepened. "What the hell? You look like you just ran a marathon." In fact, she could pass for having run two. Rukia was hardly ever disturbed by anything, but she seemed terrified and her round mass of thick black hair was disheveled and curling off in other directions.
He must have taken a bath, Rukia surmised from his wet hair and reddish feet. Droplets of water had swiveled down into his shirt, making it cling to the hard body like a second skin. She huffed at him. "C-could you at least have the courtesy to let me in my dorm!?"
Ichigo didn't move a muscle. "Could you at least have the courtesy to tell me why you look like Medusa?" he asked with an expectant look plastered over the angry one. "What were you even... doing, midget?"
"I was getting ready to... trying to find Toshiro!" she explained hastily, nodding a little too fast. "Yes. He tried out for soccer."
Ichigo crossed his arms. "And you check up on Hitsugaya since when?" he asked, finishing up the question by leaning against the door frame, striking a strangely forceful figure. Rukia gave him a black look. "Ah, c'mon Rukia. You don't think I'm that stupid? Tell me what the hell you've been doing, please!"
Please. Ichigo had told her please. Rukia blinked wildly for a few seconds at his tone, which seemed stressed. She glared at him through a curtain of onyx hair. "Fine. I was trying to get up here so fast because I wanted to hurry and do my homework. Is that good enough for you?" she queried, scowling still as he straightened up to full height.
Ichigo's tone dripped with venom. "Okay, Rukia. Don't tell me." He shrugged and stalked back into the dormitory, clearly angry. Rukia kneed the door closed and took off the small fleece jacket that had once belonged to Hisana, hanging it on a beech wood coat rack. She stood there awkwardly for a few moments before he spoke to her again. "Your food's on your bed."
She gave one quick nod and trudged across the carpet as Ichigo began to eat his noodles again, and closed the bedroom door. The room was the same as when she'd left it before, complete with the liberated stuffed animals, and it was invigorating to plop down on her Murphy Bed and grab the spoon. Despite the fact that she'd pigged out with Renji earlier she could still eat a lot more than that. Akamori called her 'the bottomless pit.' Upon looking around the room again, she spotted an open book on Ichigo's bed. Sadly she was near-sighted, so Rukia had to squint to even make out the fact that there was text. She frowned a bit and walked over, craning her body so as to read:
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good.
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Venus and Adonis
-William Shakespeare
Her eyes contorted a bit in confusion. Ichigo read poetry? That was impossible. She flipped through the book, and to her shock all of the passages were similar to the one he'd been reading. She felt slightly insensitive while reading the angelic words of the pages, and wondered if Ichigo liked them too. Well, he would have to. She checked the front of the book, and it was emblazoned with the school library's insignia. With their packed schedules, how had he had time?
After scarfing down the noodles Rukia felt her belly swell in happiness. It was probably glad to have had some real food since her flu. Under her glee there was confusion, since the book of poetry - placed back on his bed - was on her mind, as well as the possibility that Ichigo might be a little deeper than she thought. Rukia shook her head at that. No way. He was obnoxious and so very immature.
She picked up her bowl and walked out to the kitchen, nearly slamming her head on the built-in counter, placing it in the sink. She had never loaded a dishwasher before, and figured Ichigo knew how. And maybe she was high maintenance. Oh well. He'd just have to deal with it, now wouldn't he?
"Rukia," he said suddenly, jarring her to the point of a jump. "You're dirty as crap. Go shower."
She gave him a disgusted look. "Excuse me?"
Ichigo's expression was serious. "Go bathe. You've got to stink," he said, as if go bathe hadn't been enough. Rukia ignored the urge to sniff her armpits and trumped back into the bedroom, ignoring his eyes on her back as she did so. The raven haired girl rifled through her bags for a her PJs: Chappy themed, with matching slippers. The familiar outfit made her felt a bit more at home here. Rukia grabbed a towel from the pile near the door and went into the bathroom directly next door.
The room was little but he had left it immaculate, a luxury she wasn't used to at home. She had her own bathroom, but had shared with her sister because it was more convenient than dirtying two rooms. Unlike Akamori, however, Ichigo was more organized.
She saw her rabbit-topped toothbrush and his plain red one in a small cup next to the sink and a conservative tube of toothpaste, happy he'd already done that for her. Then there was more time to relax.
She pulled open the shower curtain and observed the knob. Hot to the left and cold to the right. Well, that was simple enough. Her shampoo and conditioner from home were already sitting on one of two shelves in the shower, the other of which held a bar of soap and a mens' shampoo. Well, they never cared about conditioning - and she wouldn't either, it was just that her hair would be a puffy, dry mess if she didn't.
Rukia pulled off her clothes and threw them down next to the toilet. They wouldn't be there forever, so what did it matter?
A draft from outside soon made its presence known, so she flipped it on. The water was hot instantly, and she gratefully stood under it. A sigh escaped her lips. It was so relaxing. After being dragged around by Renji all day long her limbs had tightened up. This helped a lot.
Finally she realized the hot water heater wasn't infinite, and squeezed liberal amounts of her own shampoo into her hand. After frothing her hair she washed the rest of the way, not hesitating to turn the heat up every now and then.
Her feet were itchy and hot when she got out, the mirrors clouded. She blushed. Maybe I shouldn't relax quite so much next time. After drying Rukia pulled on her PJs and scrambled to grab all her clothes, which just kept slipping away. Eventually she opened the door, freeing a wave of steam into the living room.
"God, I thought you'd died in there." Ichigo was still focused on the television, watching some kind of documentary.
"Still kicking," she assured him tritely, smiling and swinging her damp towel over her shoulder. "Where should I put my clothes?"
This appeared to take Ichigo off guard, but he bounced back quickly. "In the basket near the door... yeah." His eyes were somewhat dark, but Rukia figured he was just a little confused by something on the television. She dumped her clothes uncerimoniously into the basket and stood quietly near it for a moment.
"You can use the TV," Ichigo said emotionlessly.
"No, thank you." Rukia stared at the clock. "You can use it..."
She wondered why they weren't bickering about one thing or another, or being downright mean to each other. For some reason the feeling was relaxing, but a bit foreign. Ichigo took her by surprise by speaking up again.
"What do you wanna do tommorow?" he was turned in her direction opposite the blank television, and the tiny girl stammered a little in response.
"A- What? Aren't you supposed to be studying?" she had mostly said this because she was sleepy, and because Rukia had never anticipated going anywhere with Ichigo, save his birthday when he'd kidnapped her.
"I'm bored," he said simply, still waiting for an answer. Ichigo had always detested weekends because there was too much time to think. He tried to stay distracted for the majority of his life, but sometimes it didn't quite work out.
"Well, can't you take Toshiro?" the name was the only one she could come up with. After a few seconds she remembered that Toshiro and Ichigo weren't exactly best buds. "Or Orihime?"
Ichigo's eyes were blank.
"What kind of conversation would I have? Toshiro has a stick up his ass, and Orihime spends all her time blushing and freaking out."
That was true. Whenever Ichigo was around, Orihime's little amount of equilibrium always dissolved and she became a bumbling, pink-cheeked girl who tripped over air. Rukia had known about her forte for Ichigo since they'd met him, but it had never really bothered her. Ichigo didn't think of Orihime as anything other than a nice person, he'd told her.
Either way, he wouldn't have a very fun afternoon with his fellow redhead.
"You could take... well..." Rukia knit her brows, trying to come up with someone good, but a different idea appealed to her. "We could all go, you know - like, the both of us, Orihime and Toshiro... and if they wanted to bring someone..."
She also wondered who Toshiro would be bringing to the Winter Dance next week, on the first of December.
The strawberry across from her was thoughtful. "Y'know," he said after about twenty seconds of different variations of frowns, "that might not be that bad, now that I think about..." he trailed off, looking slightly put-off for a second. "How are we all getting to wherever it is we're going?"
"Huh," she sighed contemplatively, "I guess you can take Toshiro in the car, and I'll take the subway with Orihime and whoever she's with!" Rukia couldn't believe her good planning skills, but apparently Ichigo was less than taken by them.
"I am not riding with Hitsugaya," he protested.
"Well, then what do you propose?" Rukia said expectantly. She disliked Toshiro's stoic attitude and insensitive jibes as well, but he was family. As they said, you couldn't pick family.
Ichigo was slightly taken aback by the question, and he swallowed. "Well, I guess I was -"
Rukia cut across him. "Just deal with him for an hour. He isn't that bad."
After a few more moments of that odd startled face, Ichigo looked confused. "Which Hitsugaya are you talking about?"
Rukia deadpanned. "Ichigo!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Why are you being so inconsiderate?!"
"I am not!" he denied loudly. "Your cousin is a shit head!"
"Obviously!" she agreed sharply, "just don't tell him that!" Ah, so we are bickering. I was starting to get a little spooked.
Ichigo smirked. "And why shouldn't I?"
Rukia felt her facial features repose a bit, scowl of a mouth slackening into a soft shape. "Well, he's... believe it or not, Toshiro can get awfully sensitive sometimes."
The spritely young woman strode past Ichigo to settle down on the couch, folding her pajama-covered legs under her.
Ichigo seemed to slowly grow more intrigued with each passing second. "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding a little less heated than before.
"I mean..." Rukia was racking her brain for the right words. Toshiro was an enigma to her and what she assumed was half the population, so summarizing him in words would be difficult to say the least. "Toshiro's had a hard life, you know. Rich people, well... we have a hell of a lot of problems of our own."
He didn't seem unconvinced, but not agreeable either. "Go on," he pushed. "I'm listening."
"It's all perspective. In Toshiro's eyes, everyone's out to get him. He doesn't trust anyone, and living like that for so long has made him hard as nails. In my eyes... well, it's not as hard... no one's really done anything to me. And that's one way of putting it... I mean, nothing happens to me."
By the time she was finished, Rukia felt odd having spilt her emotions so tastelessly. Even if it were Ichigo, a friend of hers, it wasn't like Hisana had been the one listening. Hisana knew everything that Rukia did, everywhere she went... because unlike most fifteen-year-old girls, Rukia didn't have a secret life of any kind.
Ichigo's expression, to her surprise, was placid for the second time since they'd come to this school. "Well, I know perspective too, munchkin. From here, you just look like some short smart ass who thinks she's better than everyone else..."
Rukia donned a poker face directly correlated with her mood. "I never said that."
"I can tell you think it," he informed her. "Either that or I'm imagining things." He looked down into the bowl of ramen, eyes suddenly hazy and a bit upset. She wondered if there was anything bothering him on the inside. But this was Ichigo, and making him feel good was key.
"I think all that Shakespeare is going to your head," Rukia said, inwardly praising herself for discreetly telling him she knew of his hobby. And, just as expected, Ichigo's head shot up.
"How the hell did you know that?" he asked, cheeks growing feverish. Well, it didn't make him happy. But at least he's not being all depressed, right? When Ichigo got upset, Rukia went down the toilet as well. It was as if they had the same emotional calendar.
"You should pay more attention to the things you leave open on your bed." She shrugged and flipped on the television, looking at his devastated face through the corners of her eyes. "You should finish your food before it gets cold, Ichigo."
Ichigo swallowed loudly and picked up his chopsticks, fingers shakier than before. "Whatever," he said.
Rukia's eyes shot open with alarming speed. The first thing she saw was the blue light of dawn, reflected on the ceiling's plaster. After a moment she remembered today's trip with Ichigo, Toshiro and Orihime to the movies. At this point she wondered if Ichigo would change his mind, but that wasn't like him.
Said Strawberry slept motionlessly a few feet away, covers obscuring half his face. The part of it Rukia could see, however, was peaceful.
She grew conscious of the hulking mass that was her hair and threw the covers off. After brushing her teeth vigorously, Rukia scrubbed her face, at which point Ichigo entered. She didn't pay much attention to him as they talked.
"Hey," he greeted.
Rukia turned around, and her saliva went down the wrong tube. Ichigo was shirtless... but she'd seen him shirtless... before now. So it shouldn't matter. He was just a bit intimidating when half-naked. "How are you?" she asked quietly, towelling her face.
"All right." Ichigo seemed to be waiting to brush his own teeth as Rukia applied liberal amounts of mousse to her wild hair. "Hey, have an idea of a movie you wanna see?"
"I don't," she said simple. She could care less about the movie, just as long as they saw a movie and all her friends were there.
"Get dressed," Ichigo said in a defiant tone, leaving the room almost as quickly as he'd entered it. She heard the bedroom door close rather loudly.
Rukia blinked after him, a little baffled. He'd never really acted like that in front of her before. Especially not on Saturday. Maybe he's just in a hurry, the little voice in her head stated. You know him! Always rushing. ...Well, not really. Ichigo might be in one of his moods.
Rukia's head voice was hard-headed, and it was odd to hear it own up to its errors. Either way, it was time to get dressed. Rukia pulled on a small white turtleneck and shorts (she wanted to wear them at least once before it got too cold) and slipped on her flip-flops as well. Not knowing what else to do, she settled on the couch to wait for him.
"You know, I think we're going to get ice cream, you and I. What do you think?" Akamori asked.
Chihiro blew a bubble.
"Well, all right then," she sighed and winked in his direction.
Renji smiled as he watched them through the mirror, straightening the tie he'd always hated to wear. Even if they weren't married, it felt like a family in a lot of ways. Besides, despite her beauty and winsome charm, he could not picture Akamori as his wife. Hell, she wasn't even twenty yet. His mother had chewed him out for getting a teenager pregnant, but he often forgot her age. It didn't matter to him.
"Good luck," Akamori said, a wry smile forming on her pale lips. Then she stammered, "I- love you," and stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
Renji blinked as that sunk in. Nobody had ever really told him that before, save family, and it felt a bit odd. Then again, it described his feelings accurately, so he replied, "...Love you." He reached out for a one-armed hug, which felt a bit awkward, but she returned it.
"Bye."
"Have fun at work!" she said, following him as he neared the front door.
"Yeah, that'll happen..." he said, pursing his lips. "Okay, bye Akamori."
"Later, gator." She waved.
Rukia leaned back in the shotgun seat she'd raced Toshiro for, letting out an appeased sigh as the fabric molded to her. She had bickered Ichigo into turning on the seat warmers, so now her rump was warm and she was pleased. Orange Range's 'Viva Rock' blared from the radio with amazing quality. She wondered if this day, which had seemed awkward and boring earlier, might turn out to be all right.
Ichigo, oddly enough, was decked out with his 'Nice Vibe' shirt and a pair of aviator's sunglasses. She had to admit, he could look badass when he wanted... so could Toshiro, but today he wore a simple black sweater and loose jeans with a pair of tennis shoes.
Orihime had gone fancy in a bright yellow ruffled dress with white polka dots. Rukia felt blinded when she looked in her direction.
But something else was off: her friend's face. When Rukia looked at Ichigo, his token glare was missing again, substituted by a dispirited expression. Her lips puckered in content as she observed his face in its melancholy state, wondering if she should say anything.
She did. "Ichigo?"
He turned to look at her, eyes as down as the rest of him. "Yeah?"
At that moment, he took his hand off the wheel and the car swerved perilously. Several exclamations arose:
"Ichigo!"
"Did I buckle in?!"
"Oh dear Lord, control the car, you deranged Tropicana!" (This was from Toshiro.)
Ichigo looked away from Rukia and back at the road, but his sad expression had disappeared. "What do you need, Rukia?"
The question was toned with mixed feelings... or at least that's how Rukia took it. What did she need? Why had she asked him anything? Ichigo was perfectly capable of keeping his emotions at bay... but now it was too late to dismiss it. "Are you all right?"
It took a few moments, and then he answered in an assuring tone, "...Yeah, dwarf. I'm fine." He clicked on the turn signal, and the green lighting reflected in Rukia's eyes as she pondered things. Of course he had called her a dwarf; he always insulted her when his mind was on complex things.
They pulled into the theater, and Rukia smelled a sharp, smoky aroma.
Toshiro took a drag. "What are we seeing?"
Orihime was quick to respond. "Oh! Oh! We can see a romance, or a comedy! No, no, wait! A horror! Yeah, bring it on!" she ended the sentence with a colorful bravado that made Rukia smile. Orihime never changed.
Ichigo looked to Rukia for confirmation, and she nodded. "Okay, we'll see a horror," he allowed, opening his door. "Just as long as it isn't... over the top.
Rukia was on her way out of the theater with Ichigo and the rest when she felt a slight vibration in her pocket. Frowning, the small Kuchiki pulled out her cell phone.
Call From: Kuchiki, Hisana. Rukia felt her heart pound. Had something bad happened to Akamori ...again? Apparently not, because she'd just gotten home yesterday, and it would be impossible for someone to break in again. She clicked Talk.
"Hello?"
"Ah, hi Rukia. I'm glad you picked up," said Hisana placidly, calming Rukia considerably. When Hisana called, she usually just wanted to touch base. "How's your weekend?"
A little confusing. "Good, I guess."
"You guess?" Hisana said. "Well, if you guess... sometimes it turns out well. How's Ichigo doing?" her tone shifted from thoughful to whimsical at top speed. Rukia observed Ichigo, who was watching her with a confused expression.
"Fine," she replied cautiously, wondering if she should don the 'Ichigo's A Girl' mask. "Is Father home?"
Ichigo's eyebrows bowed down immediately, but she appraised him with a stern expression and he huffed out an almost silent, "Fine."
"No, he's at work, giving Renji's office back. It turns out, no one could replace him." Her mother was smiling. Rukia could tell easily when she was. "By the way, speaking of Renji, he and Akamori want you and Ichigo to eat dinner with them tonight in celebration."
"Celebration?"
"Of the baby, and the job. I'm telling you, Rukia, their future looks good right now." When Byakuya wasn't around, Hisana spoke and acted like a teenager. "So what do you say? Want to spend a night out with your sister?"
Rukia thought it over. Akamori tended to drink quite a lot when she got the chance, and now that Chihiro had been born, her sobriety would zoom away. However, Renji, despite his equally hot-headed personality, seemed to have a calming effect on her. "Okay, Mother. Tell them I'll go."
"One more thing, Rukia." Hisana had almost cut across Rukia in her haste. "Today, when your father and I were waking up, I felt a kick."
A kick? ...She had forgotten! Hisana was having a baby too. Unlikely as that seemed given Byakuya's age, it was still cute. Rukia had never seen her mother pregnant before, and it might be pretty interesting. "Wow, really? That's great. How strong?"
"She's... very strong for a little girl, really. I had to take Tylenol," Hisana sighed. Rukia was taken aback.
"Really? Tylenol?"
"Yes. Rukia, I've got to go now... tell Ichigo I said hello, all right?"
"I'll tell him." Rukia glanced again at Ichigo, who was sitting on the hood of his car, sunglasses glinting in the light. "Bye." She snapped the phone shut and turned to the redhead. "Hey."
He blinked. "Yeah?"
"What's up with you today?" the words had again spilled out before she wanted them to, that same horrid habit. Rukia couldn't think of a word bad enough to curse herself with. There were a few moments where the only noise was Orihime's muffled voice as she recapped the whole movie to an uninterested Toshiro, who replied with, 'Spectacular.'
"Today..." Ichigo said, his amber eyes moving upward toward the cornflower sky. "I figured today, I could..."
"What?"
He let out a sigh. "Today I just wanted to hang out with you. Not Orihime or Hitsugaya. Just Midget Kuchiki."
Slowly but surely, Rukia's face faded into confusion. "Me?" she knew she was a hinderance to his solitary life, one without wild sisters or rich people, but she'd felt compelled to ask.
"Yeah, you. I don't get why, but you talk a hell of a lot. Some of it makes sense." His shoulders rose and fell.
Rukia was lost in her thoughts. Ichigo... wanted to spend the day with me? Just me? ...maybe he's not so bad. But then again, he's Ichigo. Something's got to give. Maybe Orihime was right, maybe Ichigo does like me... not like that, but as a... a special friend.
All righty! It's not quite Christmas, but I'll put this up for you guys anyway, mostly because I need to clean out my document manager. There was a little bit of everyone here, except for Senna, but she'll be back soon. I won't get this updated again until at least the second, so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
-Love Claire