Author's Soundtrack:
Hurts Like Hell by Fleuri

Chapter Twenty Three

A small duffle bag sat on Rukia's bed, empty. There was nothing for her to pack. All Rukia had with her was the slightly baggy tank top and a long pair of khaki pants Orihime managed to scrounge up, and a pair of combat boots she was certain a CAC agent regretfully parted with. What she brought with her from overseas was still in New York - probably in a dumpster, and Aizen hadn't bothered to provide her with a stitch of clothing. There hadn't been a point. Anything he put on her would only have been destroyed, so why waste the effort?

Yanking the strap of her shirt back onto her shoulder, Rukia wondered if they had time to stop somewhere before they left. First impressions were everything, especially when meeting with all of the chancellors. As much as she hated to admit it, she already looked like a child. Add poor fitting clothing to the mix and it would be a surprise if they didn't laugh her out of the room.

Maybe Shinji would have something waiting for her.

She snorted derisively. Not likely. That involved thinking ahead, and while he had proven he was certainly capable of maneuvering strategically, what Rukia wore when addressing the chancellors wasn't something that would occur to him. There were more important matters to be considered.

If worst came to worst, she would have to suck it up. She would make the councils understand the gravity of their situation, one way or another. She had to, or there would be no stopping Aizen.

"I know you tend to pack light, but nothing at all?"

Ashido leaned on the door frame, watching her with an amused gleam in his eye.

"Nothing to pack," she remarked. "Although I think I have enough baggage to last me quite a while."

She glanced at him with a wry smile, but it quickly fell when she saw his eyes darken.

"I suppose I should take it as a good sign that you can make that kind of a joke so soon."

He didn't sound particularly relieved, perhaps because he knew there was no depth to her comment, no sense of healing or humor.

"Sorry," she replied, her shoulders sagging slightly.

"Don't apologize," he told her, sighing and stepping into the room. He set his bag on the floor and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "You can't help it if you make terrible jokes."

The corners of her lips raised slightly, but her heart certainly wasn't it in.

"I never did thank you," she said after a quiet lull. "For coming here, for finding me."

"Always."

Her heart twisted with the sincerity of his tone, the longing she saw in his eyes. It wasn't fair, to keep dragging him back into her life when he was trying to escape. She truly appreciated the sacrifice and risks he took to help her and Ichigo, but it wasn't right.

"Ashido-"

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "I'm not expecting anything from this. I did this for selfish reasons, and I would do it again. Besides, it's fun to throw Genryuusai a curve ball every now and then."

Rukia flinched, knowing very well the wrath of the Japanese chancellor was nothing if not brutal. While Ashido wore a playful smirk, she knew he hadn't made it through the conversation with Genryuusai without some scars.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. If I-"

"Didn't I say to stop apologizing?" Ashido huffed, crossing his arms. "You didn't force me to come. You didn't force me to disobey orders. I made those decisions myself. I knew the consequences going in."

"But if I had-"

"None of this was your fault," he insisted.

Wasn't it though? If she hadn't allowed herself to be distracted, hadn't let her guard down, had acted more quickly, Ashido would be back in Japan and in the good graces of Genryuusai. He wouldn't have risked his career or his life to find her. How could she not take some sort of responsibility?

"Still, after everything you've done, what I've dragged you into, I-"

Ashido took her hands in his and held them close to his chest. The heavy and familiar rhythm of his heart instinctively eased the tension building up inside her. His fingers brushed her knuckles gently as he stared into her eyes, daring her to challenge him. It felt too intimate, too inappropriate. Feeling her cheeks flush, Rukia tried to pull her hand from his grip.

He didn't release her.

"I don't know any other way to say it," he said, pressing her hand to his heart. "This isn't on you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were responsible in any way. Before, when I . . . I shouldn't have tried to push you. I thought I could fix things, like in the past. But when I saw you, when you didn't respond, I - I thought you had gone somewhere I could not follow, and that terrified me."

Each word was like thousands of needles, piercing her skin, burrowing deep and filling her with guilt. It wasn't her intention to hurt him, to ignore him and leave him behind. If she had been stronger she wouldn't have allowed herself to continue living in that hell. She would have buried everything and gotten back on her feet. Instead, she'd crumbled. She'd buckled under the weight of what she suffered and let it crush her and those around her.

His hand was on her cheek, a calloused thumb wiping away the tears.

"That wasn't your doing," he continued tenderly, "That was me, being selfish and feeling scared instead of being a support for you. None of this was your fault. If there is anyone to blame, it's that douche bag. He's the one behind everything. Not you."

Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed, letting his feelings and intentions sink in. They wouldn't fix everything. She was convinced nothing would, but a part of her felt a little lighter.

"That expression is something I can invest in," Ashido said with a warm smile. "I brought you something, by the way."

"Rescuing me and bringing me gifts, you're going to spoil me," she managed to mock playfully.

He grinned as he grabbed the bag from the floor and set it on her bed. Curious, she opened it and her heart nearly exploded with gratitude.

"My clothes!"

"I never thought I would see a woman so happy to see such a measly collection of clothing," Ashido remarked with a knowing smirk.

"Most women don't have to deal with constantly falling out of what they're wearing," she shot back. Seeing his growing smile, she gave him a warning glare, daring him to make a smart ass retort.

He raised his hands defensively. "I didn't say anything. Although I imagine Kurosaki wouldn't mind your struggles."

Rukia froze, holding up a black tank. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Ashido. His smile was gone, and that practiced wall of his was in place. He was hiding his pain from her - for her.

"When did you find out?"

He looked insulted. "I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't piece together something so obvious. Kurosaki was always protective of you, but I could see the switch a couple days ago to something more akin to affection. That, and I could smell you all over him."

Rukia felt her face heat and she looked away. "We haven't - I didn't -"

His hand was on her shoulder, turning her to face him. "What the two of you do together is your business. I just want to know if he makes you happy."

Happy? It was difficult for her to determine if what she felt was happiness. For weeks all she had known was fear, anger, worry. With Ichigo nearby, sleep came a little more easily, the nightmares scattered a little more quickly. He was like Orihime's sedatives. With each dose, she could control the chaos raging in her mind and heart. Every day with him by her side, she felt she could regain a little more of who she once was.

And every day she was reminded of how she was deceiving him.

"It isn't enough," she found herself whispering aloud. "It won't be enough."

Ashido frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Taking a shaky breath, she sat on the edge of the bed. She hadn't told anyone what she had done. Most of them wouldn't understand. They would see it as survival, natural selection, the natural order. But Ichigo wouldn't see it that way. He would see it as murder, plain and simple. When he looked at her he would no longer see her, but the blood that stained her hands. It didn't matter how strong his feelings were for her. In the end, she would just be another monster.

Could she live having lost his love?

"I'm such a coward," she choked.

Ashido sat beside her. He didn't say anything, didn't probe further, just sat and waited. It was tempting to unload the weight of her sins on him, knowing he wouldn't judge her, knowing he would still be there if she needed him. Even if Ichigo left her, she knew Ashido would be there for her. But it wasn't fair to him.

She was hurting, but that didn't give her an excuse to keep dragging people into her messes. This was something she needed to deal with on her own. She needed to build her resolve and tell Ichigo the truth. It would cost her something precious, but it was the right thing to do. And it would be the perfect catalyst to send him away.

As much as she hated the idea of his leaving with anger in his heart, it would make things easier. After they dealt with Aizen, he could cut ties and leave her behind without any regrets. There would be nothing holding him back from enjoying his life with his family. The hurt they would both suffer would be for the best. The aches would fade with time, she was sure of it.

Ashido wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him.

"Of the things I would call you, coward is not one of them," Ashido whispered quietly. "Strong. Courageous. Stubborn. Frustrating. Short."

Rukia couldn't help the chuckle the bubbled up. "And you started off so well."

And then her smile faded. "But this time I'm neither strong nor courageous. I did something I know Ichigo won't forgive and I have yet to tell him about it for fear of his reaction. It doesn't matter how he feels about me, once I tell him, things will end."

"Bullshit. That kid may hide it well, but he loves you and would do anything for you."

"This is different." She pulled away from Ashido. "This isn't something one can easily forgive. When I tell him, he will leave."

Ashido watched her, his eyes searching for any sign of what it was that weighed so heavily, but she wouldn't share it. This was her burden to bear.

"I think you're underestimating him," he finally replied, standing up from the bed. Turning, he looked down at her and offered her a comforting smile as he brushed some hair from her face. "He's young, but he's just as stubborn as you. I think he'll surprise you when the time comes. But, if he's stupid enough to walk away, you'll know where to find me."

"Six feet deep if you're not careful."

Ichigo stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on Ashido. Rukia felt her heart drop into her stomach. Ashido rolled his eyes and made his way casually towards the door.

"Sure, kid. The car ready?"

Ichigo didn't answer for a moment, as if gauging Ashido's response. "Yeah. The plane should be ready by the time we get there."

"We?" Rukia asked, seizing the opportunity to divert Ashido's leaving and the conversation she knew was waiting for her.

Ashido smirked. "You didn't think it was going to be just you and the kid did you? Orihime's declared the FCA's invested interest in seeing you escorted back to your chancellor, Reyes is sending that pro wrestler to keep her in the loop, and Genryuusai needs an update."

"You could try calling him," Ichigo offered flatly.

"And miss an opportunity to see a Gathering in person? No thanks." He slapped Ichigo on the shoulder. "You're going to have to put up with me for a bit longer."

Ashdio spared Rukia one last look before exiting, leaving the two of them alone. Voices from the hall floated in through the open door, but the silence between them was heavy and uncomfortable. She wasn't sure what to say or do. How much had he heard? If he knew there was something she was hiding, he would be furious. They'd been through this song and dance before, vowing never to hide anything from one another again. It hadn't gone well last time, and it certainly wouldn't be any better this time.

But she wasn't ready to tell him. She needed more time to find the pieces of her shattered courage so she could look him in the eye when she told him what she had done.

Ichigo's face was like stone, intent on keeping emotions in check and hidden. His usual scowl was gone in favor of something almost completely blank. She didn't know what to do with that. She was prepared for his anger, beg for forgiveness she didn't deserve, but the Ichigo that stood in front of her was someone who asked for no excuses, no apologies.

"If you're ready, we should head down to the car."

Rukia nearly flinched at the cool tone with which he spoke. It was almost worse than his limited expressions.

All she had to do was say the words, accept his wrath, and live with his hatred. It had to be better than what she was experiencing right now. And yet she couldn't bring herself to say anything, to tell him about what she had done. Where was the woman Ashido was convinced existed? Was she nothing more than ashes, her remains scattered to the wind like the rest of Aizen's lab? She certainly wasn't with her any longer.

Strong arms wrapped around her, engulfing her in overwhelming warmth. The heat rolling off him seeped into her skin, reaching her bones and soothing the aching loss that had settled there. His heartbeat was slow and heavy, pounding against her ear like a deafening drum. For a few minutes he said nothing, only held her close to him. It was almost painful, crushing her beneath his grip, but she wanted nothing less. It told her he was there. He was suffering in his own way, but he wasn't leaving her. Despite the hurt, the betrayal, the deceit, he was with her.

She managed to choke down the sob that threatened to burst from her.

"You don't have to tell me," he whispered softly. "Whatever it is you're hiding, I don't have to know if you don't want me to. But I wish like hell you wouldn't write me off so quickly. After everything we've been through, I thought. . . I hoped. . . "

She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but she'd said as much. When Ichigo learned the truth, she was confident he would not stay by her side, despite their past. Of this she was certain, and she couldn't tell him otherwise. She wouldn't lie to him.

"I may not know what it is that you've done, but I can promise you this, I won't be pushed aside so easily." Staring up into his eyes, she saw a fire burning there, one of sheer determination and confidence. For a moment, she believed him. No matter what she told him, what she did, he would stay with her.

But they were just words. When he knew the truth, she wasn't so sure he could keep that promise.

Tipping her head back, he drew closer. "Face it, Rukia Kuchiki, you're stuck with me."

It was dangerous to trust in him so completely, but she found herself doing just that. Clenching her jaw, she struggled to stifle the flame of hope growing inside of her with reality, but it fought against her, growing larger as Ichigo pressed his lips lovingly to her's.

Author's notes: Apologies again for the late delivery! This wasn't supposed to be how this chapter went. At all. We were supposed to head to the Gathering and watch some vampire politics, but the characters seem to have revolted against me and demanded a rewrite -.-. Thus the slightly shorter, this is why we can't have nice things, chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. I promise, the next chapter we will be going to the Gathering and things are going to start picking up some more.

Thanks to everyone who continues to read and enjoy this story! A special thanks to those who left reviews: NieveDrop, Haru (welcome back! And I can't make any promises ;) ), and LordDarkFluff. Please R&R, I would love to hear your comments and feedback on the story and latest chapters!