Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 18 ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 18

 

The next morning went off as smoothly as mornings usually did for Rukia. She got up, got her morning coffee, went to the park, ran, came back, picked up the newspaper that was in front of the door, and went back in for breakfast. What wasn't normal about the morning was that usually, while she ate her cereal and drank another up of coffee, she didn't start choking at whatever appeared on the front page. She had to look at it for a good two minutes before she actually comprehended what it was.

 

On the front page was a grainy—but still irritatingly clear—photo of her wrapped in Ichigo Kurosaki's arms. The headline read: Tragedy and Comfort; The Shooting of Byakuya Kuchiki.

 

Two thoughts ran through Rukia's head when she saw this. The first one, of course, was: Holy freaking mother-of-God shit! While the second thought centered more or less around: Damn, Inoue is not going to be happy about this.

 

Once she had recovered enough to actually read some of the article she skimmed it quickly. Words like `undetermined condition' and `sources say' as well as `no comment' and `officials report' jumped out at her immediately. It was a basic synopsis of what had happened yesterday. Her brother had been shot, taken to Karakura General, they gave a small bio about his life, and then they mentioned her visit to the hospital. It was only a tiny bit of information but the writer, who seemed to have a certain knack for embellishment as well as a passion for large adjectives, made it through the entire front page and even a bit more into the paper. Rukia grimaced softly and noticed the author.

 

“Tatsuki,” she grumbled, “I should have known.”

 

Oh well, at least she hadn't pumped Ichigo for any information. Or maybe she had and he just hadn't given any. She shrugged. Either was a possibility but the latter was the one that made Rukia's stomach twist with something akin to… appreciation.

 

She finished her coffee and her breakfast and began to dress for the day. She chose her most comfortable pair of jeans, a loose, cotton tee shirt, sneakers, and a light jacket, in case the hospital was a bit cold. She also picked up a small bag and began to take things from her the large, back part of her closet. She had to grab a chair and look over several boxes before she was able to find what she was looking for.

 

After minutes of fruitless searching she finally picked up an old cardboard box and brought it in front of her. She blew dust away from the top and slowly took off the lid. Inside she immediately reached for the small box that contained a delicate pearl necklace and matching earrings. She carefully placed it inside of her bag and continued searching. Also inside the box she found a shirt made of fine China silk. It was powder blue and had a very classic air about it. She folded it delicately, placed it in a small, plastic bag, and put it beside the necklace. Next on her list was a small bottle of perfume. She took off the cap for a moment and sniffed it softly. The scent of cherry blossoms wafted up her nostrils and she sighed. This scent brought back so many memories. Finally, the last thing to go into her bag was a small hairbrush.

 

Once everything was in order Rukia glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven in the morning. She wasn't sure when visiting hours were but she intended to go in anyway. She grabbed a book and a few files before she left and calmly exited her apartment.

 

Her ride to the hospital was quiet. She sat on the metro and drew into herself for peace. Today was Saturday and the metro would be busy soon enough. She was just glad that she got out of everyone's way first thing.

 

She walked into Karakura General, asked for the room, and was escorted to where her brother was. Late last night he had been transferred from the emergency surgery center to a more private area of the hospital. The room was excessively clean and held large amounts of medical equipment—most of it attached to her brother—as well as minutia that made the room a bit homier. There was also a slew of nurses flittering around outside. They looked at her each time they passed by the room. Rukia, oddly enough, felt slightly comforted that, should anything happen, there would always be someone around to help.

 

So Rukia walked inside, took a seat next to her brother, and finally looked.

 

The sight alone made a lump appear in her throat.

 

She had never seen her brother look so… weak before. His normally pale skin was even paler, almost green, in the soft light of the room. At least seven apparatus's were attached to his body. IV's, breathing monitors, heart rate monitors, and so many other things she didn't recognize, all of them were shoved into her brother's arms and taped to his fingers. She swallowed hard and fought the urge to look away.

 

All throughout her entire life, Byakuya had been the one person that was always constant. It didn't matter that he was hard to please, or that he had incredibly high standards to meet, or that he could barely stand to be in her presence for too long. While those things might have hurt she hadn't minded them so long as he was just… there.

 

He was always the one she thought of when things became too hard, when her Kuchiki pride was not enough to salvage her from a tough situation. He was always there to provide for her—through high school, college, and law school. He held her above water until she was able to learn to swim for herself. He might not have liked her, approved of her, or even seen her as an accomplished person, but she knew that he would always be there. It was almost obligatory. She was the sister of the woman he loved most in the world; he had sworn a duty to his wife to make sure that he would protect Rukia whenever and however he could.

 

Whether he liked it or not he was Rukia's own version of a superhero. She also knew that even though he was a cold and generally emotionless person, he had his moments. Once a year he made a joke, a few times he would smile, and he always made sure that he was fair to everyone he dealt with.

 

After a moment of quietly staring at him Rukia took a seat beside him—all the while fighting that irritating burning behind her eyes—and began to occupy herself.

 

Time ticked by very slowly. The only measurement of it was the slow, steady, breathing of her brother. Each time he took a breath, one machine would jump. Every time his heart pulsed another machine would make a note. In the beginning it was irritating to listen to—to think that all of Byakuya's life was being measured by this machine. All of his work, his advances, his passion, his love, his hatred, his ethics… all of it was just fodder for a single machine—but as the minutes passed Rukia began to find it comforting. Byakuya might not have much dignity at the moment. But at least he was alive.

 

Momo called once, asking her how everything was and Rukia told her that there had been no change at all. Momo had tried to make conversation about anything—her brother, the wedding, Toshiro, bridesmaids dresses, cake… anything, but in the end it had not helped. Rukia just wasn't in the mood to talk. So Momo had hung up, but not before telling Rukia that even if she didn't come to their Sunday run tomorrow, she'd still go and run twice around the park. Rukia had to smile at that. Momo would probably just walk. But still, she had been glad for that; she still wanted to help Momo but right now her brother came first.

 

After a while she opened some files and began to work on them. As the time kept passing by nurses would come in and ask if she needed anything. Rukia politely turned them away but they kept coming in to check on her every half hour or so. It seemed as if they wanted to make sure she was still alive as well.

 

The only time Rukia left him was to go to the bathroom and to get a small and distasteful lunch. She came back after only twenty minutes. She found that when she was away from him—without the beeping to reassure her of his existence—she was uncomfortable.

 

So she stayed. She stayed with him, thinking about his job, her job, his life, her life, if she had gotten an email from that retarded dating service, her deceased sister, and her friends. She didn't even touch the book she had brought and the files lay listlessly on her lap. She simply sat still and thought about… everything.

 

Rukia remembered what Dr. Unohana had said to her yesterday, right after she had come out of surgery.

 

“…He's in an extremely precarious condition. He could make it or he could go at any minute. We've done all we can. It's more his battle now than ours…”

 

Rukia had to bite her lip just a bit harder at that thought. She knew that if it was up to Byakuya, even subconsciously, he would choose the path he wanted more than anything.

 

What he wanted more than anything was to see Hisana again. Rukia pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and drew in a deep breath. The doctor said that it was now up to him. Rukia knew that if given the choice between continuing his life on earth or dying and possibly getting the chance to see her again, he would choose the latter.

 

Byakuya was not a religious man; he did not go to church on Sundays or even on holidays. He did not believe in fate, destiny, karma, or eternal damnation. He did not bow his proud head to any establishment or beg forgiveness for sins he had not committed. What he did believe in was much more powerful than all of that.

 

He believed in love. Absolute, complete, and total love. That much was truly certain. He believed in it so much that each day he would wake up and look at the picture of Hisana still sitting by his bed and he would smile. He believed that you loved once and that a love as strong as his had been could overpower anything.

 

Even death.

 

Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but Rukia knew that he thought this way. He believed, fervently, that since he loved Hisana so much in life, his love would continue even past death. He knew that he would see her again. He had to see her again.

 

This alone made Rukia worry.

 

She wondered if she was being selfish, to want her brother to continue his life on this planet, instead of dying and seeing the woman he loved. She thought perhaps that she was being a terrible sister for fighting for him to live. She knew what he wanted yet she still hoped that he would come out of this and live.

 

Perhaps she was being selfish. Even so, she had no evidence, no proof, that what Byakuya believed about love and death was even true. She had never experienced love that raw and passionate. She didn't know whether it was a promise, or only a possibility, that he would see Hisana in death. Perhaps she was just saving him from his end. No one knew for certain what would come after, they just knew what could happen after.

 

Rukia swallowed heavily and bowed her head softly. Then there was the other reason… she didn't want him to die.

 

Even though he could barely tolerate her, even though he thought of her as a disappointment, and even though he hated to even look at her… she still loved him. He was her older brother, her hero; he was the man who had loved her sister more than any man had ever loved a woman, even though she came from nothing. He was the man who helped raise her, who gave her every available opportunity, who cared for her—even if from a distance.

 

He was still her brother, though if only by her sister's marriage. Even if she didn't like him most of the time she still loved him and respected him. She couldn't let him die. She just couldn't. So with that thought in mind Rukia sat in her chair and waited.

 

It was nearly nine o'clock at night before anything happened.

 

Rukia had been dozing off momentarily when she heard the irregular beeping of one of Byakuya's machines. She had pounced almost immediately, her finger already on the button, ready to call the nurse, when she noticed something that was not wrong at all.

 

Byakuya's heart monitor was going a little bit faster. There was barely any discrepancies in this beeping pattern now as there were when he had been unconscious but since Rukia had been listening to them all day… well, she knew the difference.

 

She jolted up in her seat and noticed that his eyelids were fluttering softly. Her heart raced and she swallowed once before going into action. The items she had placed in her bag this morning had all been arranged neatly on the counter beside her. Each one ready should their time of need arrive.

 

As quickly as she could Rukia stripped off her tee shirt and slid the blue silk chemise over her body. Her fingers smoothly slid the buttons into place while her eyes fixed next on the necklace and earrings. She clipped the necklace on and its heavy weight made her bite her bottom lip hard. It was like the weight had been added to her heart as well. The earrings were next, she felt them bob against her jaw for a moment before she opened the bottle of perfume and dabbed some on of the liquid on her neck and her pulse. She heard the beeping getting faster and she hurriedly placed herself in front of the mirror. The brush slid around the fine, raven, strands with ease as she fixed her hair the way she wanted.

 

Finally, she examined herself in the mirror. Her exhaustion made her look paler and made the circles under her eyes more pronounced. She looked into her eyes and swallowed heavily. She looked like… like…

 

A moan came from behind her and Rukia swiveled softly. She saw her brother, blinking blearily into the darkness of the room—she had dimmed the lights for him. Rukia could tell by his groggy expression that drugs were still overtly present in his system. She just hoped this worked.

 

She cleared her throat softly and walked shakily over to the hospital bed where her brother was sighing softly.

 

She stood over his bed and leaned down only a bit. Just enough for his groggy nose to smell her perfume but not enough for her hair to fall out of place. He jerked once on the bed and his heart monitor quickened a little more.

 

“Byakuya…” she whispered, her voice no higher than a breeze.

 

It took him a few moments to respond. When he did his eyes fluttered, a drug-induced, dreary, film covering them softly, distorting his vision. Yet he still drew in a small breath through his nose and managed to croak one name.

 

“H—His-ana…”

 

Rukia smiled slightly and fought the tears that were prickling against her eyes once again.

 

“Yes, Byakuya, it's me.” She kept her voice higher pitched but still low enough for it to be a small sigh. One of her small hands reached out and she placed it on his face. His skin was hot while hers was cooled. She cradled his cheek and brushed her thumb against his scraggly shadow.

 

His hand rose groggily and he blinked his eyes, as if to clear them so he could put any truth to what he was seeing, what he was smelling, and what he was feeling. Rukia started when she felt his fingers brush against the silk of her shirt. He was trying to hold her face but had only grazed her shoulder instead. “I—I miss y-you…”

 

Rukia told herself not to cry. She needed to do this. She needed to get through this. “I know…” Her other hand reached out and grasped his. His fingers clutched hers with a strength she hadn't known he possessed. One tear slipped from her eye but she forced all the others to stay in. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised the hand that was gripping hers and pressed it against her own cheek. He sighed when she held it there, his own body not having enough strength to keep it in position.

 

She slowly pressed a kiss to his hand and a small smile crept onto his face. “You need to rest, Byakuya,” Rukia whispered kindly, brushing her thumb against his face again. “You need to rest to become strong.”

 

His brows furrowed a tiny bit and he made a small sound of disagreement. “I want… I want to stay… with you…”

 

Rukia didn't know what broke her heart more, the way his body fought just to make that one, small, sentence, or the love and desperation that appeared in his voice.

 

“You must stay here,” she said kindly, stroking his face and pressing her lips to his hand. “You are needed here.”

 

“I… need… you.” He tried to put more emphasis on the last word but all that came out was a wheeze.

 

Another tear slipped through Rukia's defenses.

 

“It's not your time, Byakuya.” She murmured against the back of his hand, “Not yet. You are still needed here.”

 

He tried to shake his head but soon became too exhausted to do even that.

 

“Hisana…”

 

“Sleep now,” Rukia said, her voice thick with pain, wretchedness, and unshed tears, “I promise, when your time comes, we will be together again.”

 

His eyes were now closed but Rukia could tell he was valiantly struggling against the drugs for consciousness. “Promise?” He whispered, his voice was so low that even Rukia barely heard it.

 

“I promise.” She said again. In one swift motion, Rukia leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste, kiss to her brother's lips. When she pulled back she saw that he had curved them into a quiet, endearing, loving smile. Rukia nearly choked on her own tears when she saw that smile. So true… so pure…

 

Byakuya's body went slack and she released his hand from hers. She gently put it back down on the bed and then released his rough cheek from her hold. She took one more minute to smooth his hair back into place before clenching her teeth together and calling in a nurse.

 

A plump, older, woman entered and asked what was going on.

 

“He woke up,” Rukia told her in a soft, choking, voice, “Just for a minute, but he woke up.”

 

The nurse breathed a great sigh of relief before smiling hugely at Rukia. The nurse began to prattle on about how fantastic this was, how she'd come and have a doctor check on his in a moment, and how much of a reprieve it must be for Rukia. She only nodded dumbly along. When the nurse left to go fetch a doctor Rukia quickly shut the door and began to disrobe. The necklace and the matching earrings went into the small box. The shirt went into the plastic bag. The hairbrush combed her locks back into their normal ponytail. She pulled her own tee shirt over her head and found that her fingers were shaking desperately. She told herself to hold onto her feelings, her tears, and her cries until she was home… safe, and in the confines of her own apartment. She just didn't know if she could wait that long.

 

As she was washing the perfume off of her wrists and her neck the plump nurse came back into the room, doctor in tow. The doctor greeted her sleepily and told her the same pleasant normality's he must give to every family. He told her that Byakuya was going to be fine, that she shouldn't worry, and that he was in the best of hands.

 

Rukia simply nodded mutely and began to pack up her things. She barely heard what the doctor was saying about charts, readings, and fluids. Rukia just kept her head down and tried not to cry. The doctors barely noticed that anything was amiss and exited with warm words of hope. Rukia nodded silently and they soon let themselves out; at least they were perceptive enough to realize the tense atmosphere.

 

Once all of her things were gathered Rukia turned to look back at her brother. He was still, once again, and his beeping machines were back to the way they had been when she first arrived. The only thing that was different was the minute smile that now curled on his lips.

 

He looked happy.

 

Rukia felt like retching. Her body was shaking with barely contained self-disgust. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to find someone who would hit her as hard as they could, and she wanted someone to tell her that what she had done wasn't the most baseless thing imaginable, that she hadn't just taken away the happy future of her very own brother, and that she had done something that could be considered good.

 

Her lips trembled as she bent over her brother and kissed his forehead. She lifted her head swiftly and walked out of the hospital room as fast as she could. Her footsteps echoed silently in the hallway as she strode. A few nurses looked at her but she avoided their gazes. A few told her `goodnight' but she only cross her arms over her chest and kept walking. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to become invisible. She wanted to fade so far into the walls that she'd never get out of it.

 

She was almost to the elevators when she stopped dead in her tracks.

 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, her voice was thick with pain, emotion, and self-loathing. It even cracked for a moment as she spoke.

 

Ichigo Kurosaki had been leaning against the wall but when she spoke to him he moved off of it. She swallowed hard and looked away from his bright amber eyes as they stared at her up and down. She knew that he could feel it… feel the shame and the guilt that was oozing off of her body as she just stood there. He would probably take that and use it… twist it, however best he could.

 

“I came to see you.” He said, his voice was low and deep but it carried all the way over to her. She shivered softly at the sound but didn't raise her head either. “And your brother,” he added onto the end.

 

“So you've been standing here for how long?” She demanded scathingly, staring at the pattern of tiles on the floor.

 

“A bit,” was his ambiguous reply. Rukia scowled and moved her gaze to the tops of her tennis shoes.

 

“Thanks for coming,” she muttered acidly, she looked up just far enough so she could see the defining angle of his nose. “Is there anything else?”

 

She could see how tense his muscles were under his thin, cotton, tee shirt. He must have been trying to reign in his temper around her. She wondered why he wasn't just taunting her like normal. His taunts would have been much easier to take than his compassion. If he had been goading her or fighting with her she could have released everything back to him, all of her hurt, anger, grief, humiliation, and shame… all of it. She knew that he would be able to take it; he had taken worse from her before, why should this time be any different?

 

It was because he saw the puffiness around her eyes, the tears threatening to fall, the slump of her once-proud shoulders, and the pathetic set of her jaw. He could see it all and he wasn't judging her.

 

He was trying to help her.

 

“Sorry,” she exhaled sadly, bitterly, even. She shouldn't be lashing out at him, no matter how much she disliked him right now. She wouldn't let her emotions run her thoughts and ruin the precarious relationship they had.

 

“S'okay.” He muttered just as quietly. She saw how his muscles relaxed underneath his shirt and breathed a small sigh of relief. He understood. Rukia rubbed her toe into the linoleum floors and tried to control her increasingly spasmodic breathing. She couldn't cry in front of him. She just couldn't.

 

“Let me take you home.” He said in a voice that left no room for argument. Rukia only nodded her head hollowly. She didn't want to take the metro… not this late at night and definitely not feeling the way she felt.

 

“Okay,” she whispered and walked a few steps forward. Ichigo's hand was out but she ignored it. After a moment he let it drop although she knew that, if she needed it, he would offer it again. He came to the elevators and pressed the button to go down. They waited in silence for the metallic contraption to arrive.

 

They entered slowly and stood apart inside of it. Rukia made sure that no part of her was touching any part of him. She needed distance if she was to get on with tonight. Any sign of human comfort and she would just… she would… she would break down completely.

 

The doors to the elevator opened slowly and they walked out through the main lobby, both of them were completely silent. He led her out to his car and beeped it open. He opened the door for her and she slid in comfortably. She thought that a few days ago this would have been taboo. Considering what was going on between the two of them… but then again, a few days ago her brother hadn't been shot and she hadn't been on the edge of a mental breakdown.

 

She heard him slide into the driver's side and shut the door behind him. She looked out of her window as he started the engine. Soft jazz music floated in between them and she started at that. She hadn't thought of him being a jazz enthusiast… more like a heavy metal, rocker type. But this… this was soothing.

 

“Nice car.” She commented.

 

“Thanks,” was all he said in return.

 

He didn't ask her address. Instead he began driving away from the hospital on his own. She didn't bother speaking to him. She just let the cool sounds of the saxophone, trumpet, and piano lull her into a type of calmness that she had not yet experienced today. For the first time in nearly fifty hours she let her muscles begin to relax. She closed her eyes, shut off her mind, and leaned back in the soft leather of the chair. She didn't even pay attention to where Ichigo was driving her. She'd just let him take her where ever he wanted. Although, she reminded herself tiredly, this would probably never happen again.

 

Finally, the car stopped and Rukia opened her eyes. They were on a particularly darkened road with only street lights to give them any sort of comfort. She frowned and turned to the driver, wondering if he had finally gotten the courage to off her and then toss her body to the side of the road.

 

“Where are we?”

 

He didn't answer her, instead, he offered a small smile and pointed to the building directly across from her. She twisted her head and looked towards the window. There was indeed something right there. A shop or something. Rukia frowned and looked a little closer, it wasn't lit up, it wasn't big, and it wasn't really very modern either. There was nothing really extravagant about it at all. Rukia raised one eyebrow and didn't think twice about not noticing it. It was sandwiched between two more ostentatious shops, and had barely anything going for it besides a small, ratty, sign.

 

“Urahara's,” Rukia read softly before turning to Ichigo. “What is this place?”

 

He smirked gently at her. “Remember your sandwiches?”

 

Rukia understood now. “Oh,” she murmured. “This is where you got them?” She turned back to the small restaurant and examined it speculatively.

 

He unbuckled his seat belt and motioned for her to do the same. Rukia immediately stopped him, “I'm not hungry.” She said softly.

 

His hands stilled for a minute and he raised one eyebrow in a chastising stare. “Rukia, I'm guessing that you haven't had anything to eat since lunch. It's half past nine.”

 

Point one for Ichigo, Rukia thought ruefully.

 

“Come on, you need to eat something.” He goaded her, he opened his door and got out of the car even though Rukia remained motionless in her seat. Her eyes followed him as he sighed, moved over to her side, and bent to open her door. The moment he did a heavenly scent sailed under her nose. Her toes curled in her shoes and her mouth watered at what she could imagine was in that small building. Maybe she really could eat something…

 

Ichigo squatted down until his head was a tad below hers. She swallowed nervously and finally chose to look him in the eye instead of cowardly looking at his nose. What she saw shocked her; his honeyed amber eyes were intense, yes, but not with exasperation or irritation… instead they were filled with worry, sympathy, and concern.

 

“Rukia,” he said softly and she sucked in a breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it until now. His eyes were just so raw with emotion… it took her breath away. He drew in a steadying breath as well and probed her once again with those unrefined, forceful, eyes of his. He hesitated for one more minute before whispering to her, “I saw… what you did.”

 

The burning behind her eyes was back but she didn't question it. She didn't argue with it and she didn't try and force it away. She just let it come. Rukia bit her lip and nodded slowly. Her fingers twined with Ichigo's as he helped her out of the car as slowly as she wanted to go. He didn't let go of her hand as he shut her door, locked his car, and walked with her to the entrance of the restaurant. His hand felt warm and beautiful around hers. She could feel the strength and power in his calloused digits. They led her slowly, taking their time, running their fingers slowly over hers. Rukia gripped his hand hard in hers and let him take her inside.

 

A tiny bell tinkled as they entered. Rukia looked up and began to assess the place. It was homey, comfortable, a bit cluttered, and smelled like delicious food. There weren't copious amounts of tables littering the place, or a large kitchen, but that only seemed to add to its charm.

 

Ichigo did not release her hand as he took a few steps inside. “Urahara!” He called, his voice was powerful and steady. Rukia did not think that she could emulate that type of tone anytime soon. “Come out! We've got an order for you.”

 

There was a small commotion coming from the background and suddenly, a fair-haired man in a large, green overcoat, sandals, and a green and white striped hat appeared from a small back room. “We?” He said, coming forward from the shadows and flipping on a couple of lights in the process. He stopped short when he saw Rukia. His smile grew even wider when he noticed their linked hands. Rukia didn't even blush when a suggestive grin appeared on his face. “We? My, my, Kurosaki, you've never brought one of your lady friends to visit me before.” He took a few steps forward and quickly grasped Rukia's other hand. He brought it to his mouth and brushed a quick kiss across her knuckles. Rukia didn't move, after being in the business world for a while you got used to things like that.

 

Ichigo, however, didn't seem particularly fond of how open this man was being with Rukia. He tugged her back a little bit and pushed his free hand onto Urahara's hat-enclosed head. “Paws off, Kisuke, this is Rukia Kuchiki, my business associate.”

 

Urahara, finally regaining his balance, blinked several times before his joking demeanor became very serious. He took one look at Rukia—a really look, this time, not a simple once-over like he had done before—and noted her splotched eyes, her trembling lip, and her grim expression. He slowly nodded his head to her. “My apologies.”

 

“It's alright,” Rukia croaked, surprised by the level of sincerity in his voice. It was almost like he knew exactly what she was going through.

 

“Kisuke!” A new voice called, this one from the back as well, “Who is it?”

 

“Ichigo, my dear,” he yelled back, “And he brought a friend, a certain Rukia Kuchiki.”

 

Another rustle was heard and this time, a woman popped her head out. She was a beauty, exotic in every way. Her hair was long and so black it almost looked purple. Her breasts were full and pushed up by a small corset, accenting her tiny waist and her long, luscious legs. Her skin was dark tan and her eyes were a striking shade of gold. Rukia felt awed by her as she flitted carelessly into the room. Her body moved like liquid between the tables and the clutter. She was so graceful and fast it looked like she barely moved her feet at all.

 

She walked over to the man, Kisuke Urahara, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Kuchiki?” She asked, looking between Ichigo, Urahara, and Rukia. “As in the Kuchiki? The one in the papers this morning?”

 

“One in the same, apparently,” Urahara murmured, his gaze was still set on Rukia and she shifted slightly underneath of it. “This is his sister, Rukia.”

 

“Oh,” the woman said in an amazed voice. She nodded once to Rukia and pulled one side of her mouth up into a small smile.

 

Ichigo cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at the two of them. Both of them were too focused on Rukia to notice anything amiss with him.

 

“Rukia,” he said, tugging on her hand slightly and breaking her away from her staring contest with the shop's owners. “This is Kisuke Urahara, owner of this fine establishment, and this is his wife, Yoruichi Shihion.”

 

“Hello,” Rukia said. Normally she would have offered them her hand to shake but tonight… tonight she just didn't feel like it. She was just too drained.

 

“We'll have two of your house specials,” Ichigo said in a commanding tone, jerking them both out of their reverie. “Okay?”

 

Both of them shrugged at the same time and began muttering wordlessly to each other on the way back. Rukia watched them retreat slowly. She'd never seen a couple that looked so mismatched but seemed to fit together so well, even if she had only known them for a few minutes.

 

Ichigo tugged on her hand softly and began walking towards a more private table. She followed him willingly, not once feeling uncomfortable that his hand was still wrapped around hers. They sat down slowly in the darkened corner of the room and listened to the bustling and murmuring inside of the kitchen. Neither one of them could make out what they were saying exactly, but that didn't stop them from trying.

 

“I've been coming here since I was a kid,” Ichigo said, his voice still as commanding as it had been before, “Back when my sisters were little. My dad and Kisuke are friends. It was actually Kisuke that got me into mixed martial arts.”

 

So that how he stays in such good shape. Rukia thought absentmindedly.

 

“They always have the greatest food,” he muttered, “They don't even really have menus, you just come in and they kind of just… know what you want. It's really weird.”

 

A young woman appeared out of nowhere and brought them both cups of water. Rukia looked at her balefully while Ichigo smirked, “Hey Ururu, how are you?”

 

“Just fine,” the girl said in a very tiny voice. She looked to be around the same age as Ichigo's sisters yet from the way she dressed—in a pink and white polka dotted skirt with pigtails in her shiny hair—and from the way she carried herself she seemed to be only fifteen. She looked up at them with big, liquid eyes and blinked, “Would you like something else to drink?”

 

“Tea would be nice,” Ichigo said, he turned to Rukia, who just nodded in acquiescence. The young woman disappeared as quickly as she had come.

 

Ichigo nodded after her, “That's Ururu; Kisuke took her and her brother, Jinta, in a few years ago. They're like his kids. My sister, Yuzu, has a crush on Jinta.”

 

Rukia said nothing, only sipped at her water and waited for the food to arrive. Ichigo remained quiet for a few more moments. He simply picked at a small scratch in the wood and watched her levelly. They didn't have long to wait. Ururu brought them their meals and backed away politely. Ichigo began to eat his quickly while Rukia more or less picked at hers. She just didn't feel like eating anything. It didn't really help that she could hear Kisuke and Yoruichi talking about her only a few feet away. Ichigo scowled at them but they didn't even notice him. They just kept talking.

 

“Hey!” He finally barked and the two of them stopped for a moment.

 

“What?” Kisuke asked sweetly, holding his hands out innocently.

 

“If you're going to talk about her then go into another room. She has enough to deal with without the two of you making it worse.” Ichigo snarled softly. Both of them began muttering about how rude Ichigo was but they moved nonetheless. She heard their footsteps receding into the far back. Ichigo only smirked and returned to his food.

 

Rukia had never liked Ichigo Kurosaki more than at this exact moment.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured softly.

 

He drew his head up to hers and a small smile escaped his lips. He nodded once and then indicated towards her food. “Eat something. I don't want you to become a waif.”

 

She nodded silently and began to eat more of her perfectly made sandwich. They ate together in silence, yet it wasn't uncomfortable. It just seemed as though neither wanted to ruin the calm mood for the sake of conversation. The only thing that interrupted their dining experience was the sounds of a radiator clicking on and the occasional whirl of a washing machine.

 

Rukia had finished half of her sandwich when she pushed it away from her. She just couldn't stomach it.

 

Ichigo first noticed her half-eaten sandwich and then studied her face. Rukia's eyes were cast down, her head was bowed slightly, and her breathing was thick and shallow. Both of her hands were on the table in front of her, the fingers were clenched into fists. Ichigo slowly wiped his hands on his pants and set them on top of the table as well. They were only a few inches from hers yet she didn't think to even move them.

 

“Rukia,” he muttered, his voice was tight but oddly enough, it was also sympathetic. Her eyes flitted up to his and she swallowed hard when she saw the shimmering empathy displayed inside of them. It looked like he was trying to see into her very soul. He drew in a slow breath and placed both of his warm hands on top of hers. She flinched lightly but didn't move them away. His gaze was intense as he said, “If I had been you, in that hospital bed, seeing one of my siblings in the exact same situation…” he paused and squeezed her hands lightly, “I would have done the exact same thing.”

 

She said nothing. The only thing that indicated she was listening was the pricking and burning appearing once again behind her eyes. She knew that he could see the tears that were threatening to fall onto her cheeks. She was so glad that he wasn't saying anything though. She didn't think she could handle it.

 

“You love your brother,” he said softly, “I know you do. You had to make sure that he stuck around until it was really his time.” He squeezed her hands even tighter and drew them a bit closer to him. “I know that he must have loved Hisana but… but it just wasn't his time. You know him,” a small smile creaked onto his face, “When would Byakuya Kuchiki ever let someone send him to the grave before he was ready to go?”

 

The top corner of Rukia's mouth inched up only a bit. She tried to hide it but she knew that Ichigo saw it. His thumbs rubbed across the backs of her hands and she sighed inwardly at the contact. It was a bit comforting. His smile widened at the sight of her tiny attempt and he quickly brought one of her hands up to his mouth. He slowly splayed her fingers and turned it over. He pressed a steady kiss to the inside of her palm and then to the pulse of her wrist.

 

Rukia felt like crying all over again. He was being so nice to her. So nice… after everything she had put him through. She didn't deserve to be treated this kindly.

 

“Come on,” he said quietly, “I'll take you home now. Okay?”

 

Rukia nodded softly and allowed him to pull her gently out of the chair. Ichigo placed a few bills on the table and didn't even allow Rukia to protest that he was paying for her. They went outside as slowly as she wanted and then went back to his car. He opened the door for her and she slid inside. His hand slipped from hers and Rukia had to cringe at that. She liked having his large hand around hers. She didn't want to lose it. The connection was what she wanted. She just wanted to be next to someone so she wouldn't completely break down.

 

Ichigo slid into his seat and started the car. His hand rested limply on the gearshift and it was then that Rukia took her chance. She extended her left hand and pressed it against his. If he was surprised he didn't give any indication. He simply turned his palm over and accepted her. Their fingers twined together and he squeezed them lightly.

 

Rukia smiled softly and drew in a slow breath. She told him her address and he began to drive away. They didn't say anything as he drove. They just sat, their hands connected, listening to smooth jazz. Rukia could not have felt more at peace.

 

They reached her apartment sooner than she had anticipated and Rukia told him to just drive to the front. She saw her normal doorman waiting outside, his eyes followed Ichigo's car as it pulled up to the curb and parked.

 

Ichigo got out first, his lean, lanky, body casting a silhouette in the glow of the streetlights. He moved to the Rukia's side and opened the door. Neither of them said a word as he lightly pulled her out. They stood for a few moments, his hands locked on hers, his body towering over hers, and his warmth seeping into her. Rukia looked up at him and offered him a tiny, half-smile. It was pathetic really, but it was all she could muster right now.

 

He smiled back at her and tugged her forward. Rukia came willingly and folded herself into the wonderful warmth of his arms. His body blocked out the chill of the early autumn air and surrounded her with palatable masculinity. She buried her face softly into his chest and inhaled his heavenly scent. She felt his chin rest on top of her head while his hands rubbed at her back.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered. The sound was barely audible but she knew that he heard it anyway.

 

“Don't worry about it.” He said before gently kissing the top of her head. “You did the right thing.”

 

She still wasn't completely convinced of that but Ichigo must have been or else he wouldn't have said so. She exhaled quietly and gingerly removed herself from his arms. He seemed reluctant to let her go but did anyway. He smiled gently at her and stepped away. It was as if he knew that she needed a bit of space.

 

“Will I see you in the park tomorrow?” He asked her quietly.

 

She shook her head slowly, “You'll see Momo but probably not me.”

 

“Hospital?”

 

She nodded thickly.

 

“Okay,” he brushed his hand against her cheek and Rukia was stunned to see that a small tear had escaped from her eye. It had trickled down her cheek and she hadn't even noticed. Ichigo had though. His finger moved slowly up her face until his thumb brushed tenderly against the bottom of her eye. She murmured a small thanks and began to search in her purse for her key.

 

“See you Monday?” He asked when she found it.

 

She nodded, “I'll be there.”

 

“Okay.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and grinned at her, “Just make sure you bring the old Rukia out to play. I think I'm in the mood to be pummeled in the face with a stapler. Or be called a lazy ass. Or be kicked in the shins.”

 

A wet laugh escaped Rukia's throat and she nodded a few times. “Okay. I'll do that.” She turned away from him and silently greeted her doorman. He opened the door for her and she stepped into the air conditioned lobby of her rather expensive apartment building. She was almost to the elevator when she looked behind her and saw that he was still there, leaning against his Mercedes Benz, watching her with those intense eyes of his.

 

A small shudder shivered up Rukia's spine and she pushed the elevator. Her eyes were locked onto his until the doors opened and she stepped in. She quaked lightly until she had to lean up against the walls. She closed her eyes as the machine moved her up to her floor. She felt hollow as she went to her apartment, opened the door, and stepped inside.

 

Her heart was still aching terribly. Although the pain had been somewhat alleviated by Ichigo. She went into her room and flopped, boneless, onto the bed. She didn't even bother removing her clothes or setting her alarm before her eyes slid shut and sleep claimed her.

 

She dreamed of Ichigo.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: Okay, so what do you guys think of this chapter? I hope it wasn't too filled with fluff. But then again, IchiRuki fluff is always something that is appreciated in my book. :D Even though it was kind of depressing fluff… anyway… this chapter was kind of experimental. I didn't really know how it would turn out but… well, I like it.

 

A big thanks to anyone and everyone who has reviewed so far! It means the world to me!

 

PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! (Maybe I'll update sooner… cough, cough…)