Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Morning Rain ❯ When It Comes Down to Trust ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2

“Uuughh...” Ichigo threw himself down on his quilt, tired, annoyed, and frustrated.

He, Rukia, and Renji had split up, and commenced an entire sweep of Karakura town in order to find the rebel. The only thing Ichigo ended up finding was a few small fry hollows and a ticked Rukia when he came back without information.

Well it’s not like she found anything useful either... Ichigo thought, a deep frown replacing his worn out appearance.

Rukia could be so irritating sometimes. She probably didn’t even give a damn about anyone but herself. She was so thoughtless, and inconsiderate, and...

He rolled over and faced his wall.

And...

He sighed deeply. He didn’t really think all those things about her. She did care deep down.

It’s just so hard to tell sometimes.

A sullen look melted his angry expression.
Dammit. Why was he feeling so depressed suddenly? He really hadn’t been himself lately. He was more moody, isolated, and he tended to fly off the handle at the littlest things.

He had been feeling especially strange today.

Ichigo pushed his fingers through his short, fiery hair and rolled back onto his back, resuming his staring contest with the ceiling lamp.

Absolute silence hung over the room like a blanket, smothering him. He would’ve fallen asleep, if it weren’t for that deep, aching pain in his left arm.

Wait...pain?

Ichigo blinked. He didn’t remember getting hurt today. Sure he got swung at a few times fighting the hollows, but he had changed into a shinigami long before that.

He looked down at his left arm and suddenly remembered the sting earlier in the afternoon. Except now...it didn’t really look like a sting anymore...
His forearm was red and what looked like a giant bruise was creeping up his arm. He touched it gently with his right hand and winced.

Damn...maybe I really am having a reaction.
But he had been stung before and it had never reacted like this.

He examined it for a few more minutes, until a soft thump alerted his attention to his window.
Rukia gracefully slid in, and landed on his bed with one foot, immediately swinging her other leg down to the floor. She made no move at all to even look at him, she just casually moved to the closet.

Ichigo tried to twist his face into the darkest look he could muster, preparing for when she did eventually look at him.
However, Rukia silently slid the closet door open and climbed inside, closing the door behind her without actually turning around.

Ichigo growled slightly and threw himself back down on his pillow, looking even more miserable.

Of course, what he did expect was her to have yelled at him when she came home, and basically nag his ear off. Normally that would put anyone in a foul mood, but her silence was making him feel even worse.

He started to flick the loose material on his pillow crossly.

Leave it to her to ruin his mood.

His dull brown eyes flickered up to the closet door when he heard it roll open.

Rukia stepped down, finishing the last button on the top of her pajamas (well, Yuzu’s actually). She drifted over to the bed, still in silence, her feet softly patting the floorboards as she neared him.

Ichigo made his best effort to deliberately ignore her, as he glowered at the wall.
She set down lightly on the bed, and remained quiet for a few uncomfortable moments.

“Ichigo...”

Her soft voice nearly startled him.

“I’m sorry...if I upset you...” She was looking down at her hands as she spoke. Ichigo remained scowling at the wall, but was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes glued there.

“Tchhh...I’m not that sensitive Rukia...”

She looked over at him and cocked an eyebrow.
“Please. I’ve been able to feel your depressed reiastu hanging around all day now. So spare me the attitude.”

He snorted.
“Since when has my mood been any of your business? It doesn’t have to be you that caused it.”

“Ichigo...”

Augh!

Her delicate voice was killing him. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone? Why did she have to be so nosy?

“I’m just trying to help.” She said as if she knew what he was thinking.
He couldn’t bear not looking at her anymore. Her presence was digging into him.
His chocolate eyes slowly shifted to match up with her deep blue ones.

Dammit...
Ichigo’s hard glare softened when their gazes locked onto one another.

Now he was stuck.

Rukia looked at him, her eyes luminous with sincerity. She really meant what she said. She wanted to help him.
Ichigo drew in a long breath and let it out painfully slow.
She waited a few minutes for any response from him. Finally, she heard him mumble quietly:

“You didn’t upset me, Rukia...”

“Then what is upsetting you?” She pushed for an answer.

Ichigo started to snap back.

“I don’t-!” He caught himself before finishing his sentence. Rukia didn’t deserve his aimless wrath.
“I don’t know...” He finished with a forcibly calm tone.

She still looked at his face, even when he had turned away. Something was obviously bugging him, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure that one out. But the problem was what was bugging him?

She looked down at her lap again.
He might know, and he’s was just not up to talking about it. Did he still not trust her enough to share his problems?

No...that was just Ichigo...

He was always like this... she told herself.

She looked back up at him. He looked deep in thought...she could tell. It was that look that he got whenever he was trying to solve a problem. She’d seen it many times before.
He would furrow his brow, and lower his head, his soft brown eyes focusing on one object, but nothing in particular, just the first thing that happened to be in his line of vision.

She watched him think for a little while...watched the solid expression on his handsome face...

Rukia let her eyes wander from his for a moment, as they skimmed down his neck, along his shoulder and across his chest...watching him breathe...

She shook her head rather violently.

What was that?
Was she daydreaming? About...him?

Ichigo seemed to have noticed her spasm from his side sight, because he glanced over at her and gave a perplexed look.


Rukia just seemed to ignore the look and quickly tried to find something to grab her attention, something she could change the subject with...
Her eyes darted around.
Something like...

Rukia’s face changed suddenly. Concern flooded her features and she nearly pounced on Ichigo, obviously startling him in the process.

“What happened to your arm?!” She lifted up his left arm carefully but insistently.

“Oh, uh...I think that was from that sting this morning...” He looked over at her, studying his arm.
The bruise had already started to creep across his upper arm

“This was from a sting?! See you are allergic!”

Ichigo wrenched his arm back.
“It’s fine.”

Rukia didn’t look at all convinced.
“Fine? It doesn’t look fine to me? It’ll all fine and dandy until your arm falls off. You should really have your father look-”

“I said it was fine, Rukia, alright?!” he retorted, his voice harsh.
Ichigo whipped the covers over his head, shrinking down into his mattress.

“Just go to sleep already.”

Rukia recoiled at his response. He really was on edge.
Was he really that disoriented?

She decided it was best not to push the subject any further with him, it’s not like it would do either of them any good.

She got up from her spot on his bed and made her way back to the closet, slightly crestfallen.
She couldn’t do a thing to help him this time. He just made it impossible. But, Rukia was really blaming her own inability, not his stubbornness.

She pulled herself back up into her little sanctuary.

“...goodnight...” She murmured to him softly before closing the door.

Ichigo pretended to have not heard her, and kept his head tucked under his quilt, like an ostrich with its head in the sand.

A few soundless minutes crawled by and soon guilt sunk down into the pit of his stomach.

His frustration with himself, and the rest of the world, started building again, until he had to do something to vent it, or he would surely explode.

Ichigo threw his fist down into his pillow, his blanket billowing up with his arm and then slowly floating down like a giant tent when his actions ceased.

He melted down into his bed, blowing air through his lips, completely physically and mentally exhausted.
His troubled thoughts clouded and swirled in his mind, until they slowly dissolved into some form of rest. His rigid body gave way to the wave of sleep that washed over him.

Rukia sat in the darkness of her pillowed haven, knees tucked under her small chin.
She didn’t dare peek out of her closet, despite the rustling from Ichigo’s blankets having settled.

Her insides were twisting up into a giant knotted mess.
She desperately wanted to help him, wanted to just take his pain away.

But...I can’t...

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tighter around her legs.

This uselessness...this feeling of uselessness...she hated it.

I really haven’t been able to do a thing from him...have I?

She leaned her head against the wall.

Hopefully in the morning, he would be in a more agreeable manner, and she could urge a little more information out of him. But until then...

She laid her head down on her pillow.

Until then, she would just have to wait.

That was always the hardest thing to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Obey...

thump

Let go...

thump

Submit yourself to me!


Ichigo’s eyes flew open as he gasped in air, like he had been held underwater for hours.

His heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own strangled breathing.

He brought a hand up to his brow, and found it drenched in a feverish sweat.

Quickly, he wiped it away, and tried to calm his spasmodic muscles as they ticked and twitched. His limbs were shaky and stiff and his hands clenched and damp.

Ichigo tried to recall what had woken him up in such a state.

I think it was the dream...

He reworded his own thoughts when he decided it was better described as a nightmare.

He had heard a voice...an eerie voice...much like the one he used to hear when he was dealing with his inner hollow.

It sounded like it was right in his ear

...or his mind.

He couldn’t remember exactly what it was saying, but just remembered it had drowned everything else out; like it was replacing his normal thought pattern with its own hollow words.

Ichigo suddenly flinched.

Pain shot through his left arm, and up the side of his neck.

He rolled over and squinted in the darkness to focus on his arm. He couldn’t make anything out in this black veil covering his room. He just knew that his body was aching.

Ichigo brought his arm closer to his chest and held it with the other one.

It felt like his skin was crawling.

He shivered at the grotesque sensation in his flesh and drew the covers back over his exposed skin.

Dimly lit digits shone from what was obviously his alarm clock in the direction of where his desk should be.

1:43...

Ichigo groaned, and buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t exactly want to go back to sleep, not that he really could with his arm hurting so much...but it was still hours until sunrise.

Another long night...and a hollow hasn’t even showed yet...