Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ Of Understanding ( Chapter 15 )

Of Violence

Chapter Fourteen: Of Understanding

 

Weeks passed, crawling by with the same sluggish uncertainty as the time spent waiting for Aizen to make his first move, all those decades ago. Life continued as it had. New Shinigami graduated from the Academy and were sifted into the ranks. The problems with strange and dangerous Hollow continued, though the sightings continued to be infrequent and rarely were they deadly. Akon still refused to choose a vice-captain, despite repeated urgings by the old man.

 

Syaoran stopped asking when her mother would return after the first month of repeated weekend visits and pained “I don't knows” from her father. Kaien still asked, more to keep up what had become a habit than any expectation for his father's answer to change. Ichigo lived as though on automatic. He took care of the children. He retained control over the fifth division. He trained new Shinigami. He still had lunches with Byakuya on occasion, met Shunsui and Kenpachi for drinks, and forcefully ignored attempts to discuss his situation.

 

The fervor died down, becoming nothing more than a constant rumor through the ranks. Rukia leaving and taking up residence in her own quarters had inspired a brief flurry of activity once the news emerged. But it, too, eventually reached its peak and flattened. Everyone settled back into their own daily rituals and paths, leaving the broken couple to tend to their own wounds.

 

Crawling into his cold and empty bed for the nth time in how many weeks, Ichigo was struck with the realization that he couldn't live like this. It wasn't like him to simply wait around for something to happen. Rukia still lingered in her own decision, and it wasn't healthy, not for either of them. They weren't together now; they obviously weren't trying to figure anything out. And the children were suffering, waiting around for a mother who might or might not return.

 

Byakuya's words. Shunsui's words. His family's words. Idle comments that his friends had made in passing without directly trying to give advice. It all flurried through his mind, the same litany of recommendations that he had brewed over. Divorce rang out the loudest and the most painful. They were already separated Shunsui's voice reminded him in not so many words. It was the final step.

 

He lingered for a long time on that last choice, letting the word sit in front of him, staring him in the eyes. In a way, he felt it was like giving up. But another part of him felt like it would be finally moving on from the stagnant pool of emotion he had been wading through. He realized he was clinging to indecision because he didn't want to regret anything. He didn't want the added pain of willingly letting her go.

 

In the end, he considered what was best for the children and left it at that. Shunsui was right in that respect. They didn't need to witness any more violence. And Ichigo certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his life tiptoeing around his wife on the off chance that he would inadvertently provoke her into anything. No matter how much he loved her, things simply couldn't continue the way they had. Not anymore.

 

He made his choice quietly, sharing the decision with no one else. Waking early the next morning, he sent Rukia a message with a meeting time and place. She responded not soon after with an affirmative, no questions asked. He had the feeling that she already knew the purpose behind it.

 

Ichigo went into his division for half a day and played normalcy. He counseled a new recruit, signed stacks of papers, and ate lunch with his vice-captain. Yumichika was unusually quiet, as if already guessing that his captain's mind was preoccupied.

 

He worked for another hour after lunch and then left for the day, heading home. Looking at the handful that was his four children, he decided it was better to leave the twins with Tohru and take the older two to Byakuya. The Kuchiki noble had already agreed to take them for the rest of the day.

 

Perhaps it was his fault. He was distracted, mind already running over what he planned to tell Rukia. Practicing several different ways to say it and all of them coming out wrong, coming out far too painful.

 

When Kaien asked him where he was going, he answered honestly and without thinking. His son immediately asked to come along, and Ichigo couldn't allow that. It was understandable considering it had been two weeks since he had last seen his mother longer than a few minutes spent at the thirteenth division. Anger and sadness flashed through his son's eyes, thus beginning a first-class sulk which Ichigo really had no patience for at the moment.

 

He bundled up both Syaoran and Kaien, the former chattering happily in his ear as he hitched her on one hip. Almost as if she were trying to make up for her brother's unhappy silence. Nodding and answering where appropriate, Ichigo took them the short distance through the residential district until they reached the Kuchiki mansion.

 

He wasn't surprised to find Byakuya answering the door before he could so much as knock, the other man probably sensing their arriving reiatsu.

 

“Byakuya-oji-san!” Syaoran exclaimed happily and darted in to throw her arms around her uncle's legs, looking decidedly more happy than she had recently.

 

Byakuya couldn't help but wonder how much of it was fake.

 

“Hime,” he murmured, affectionately patting her head. “I just saw you yesterday.”

 

She looked up at him, all smiles and sparkly eyes. “I know. But we haven't been here in awhile.”

 

The child did have a point, something that Byakuya conceded inwardly. He had been spending most of his time at Ichigo's home rather than having the children come to his.

 

In the doorway, Ichigo chuckled at his daughter's behavior and prodded his oldest inside. “I told Tohru to take the twins,” he explained as Kaien stepped in ahead of his father, looking rather surly at that. “That way you wouldn't have too much on your hands.”

 

“It wouldn't have been any trouble,” Byakuya assured his brother-in-law as he closed the door behind them and gently dislodged Syaoran from his leg.

 

Ichigo shrugged, poking Kaien in the shoulder to get him to keep moving. The boy was being rather stubborn, prompting Byakuya to give him a confused look.

 

“I know that, but Kaien's already sulking. And that's enough.”

 

Dark blue eyes, far too much like his mother's, fixed a glare on his father before promptly turning away.

 

Byakuya raised a brow. “So I see,” he commented and then turned to Syaoran. “You're in a good mood, are you not, hime?”

 

She grinned up at him. “Of course I am. My birthday is coming soon.”

 

A fact which had not escaped her father or her uncle. Less than a month in the future, which meant they would have to get to planning if they were going to have something ready in time to suit her expectations.

 

“A happy occasion,” Byakuya agreed with a firm nod, though inwardly he still wondered at Kaien's behavior. Wanting to ask Ichigo, he conceived a plan to distract the children. “Yuzu-oba-san sent me some sweets from the Living World. They are in the kitchen. Why don't you ask Kuina to give you some?”

 

Syaoran's eyes brightened in interest, even Kaien daring to perk before wiping it away with a scowl that matched his fathers.

 

“Really?” And when Byakuya nodded, her smile brightened. “Okay,” she agreed and headed down the hallway, her brother following a more leisurely pace.

 

Byakuya found it ironic. Usually, it was Kaien who had bundles of barely contained energy and Syaoran who maintained her pride and dignity. What a strange reversal.

 

“Sacrificing your sweets for the sake of privacy?” Ichigo questioned as they headed out of earshot, the two adults remaining in the hallway near the door.

 

Patting down his robes, which lacked any visible wrinkles as always, Byakuya pretended innocence. “I don't know what you are referring to.”

 

Ichigo snorted and shook his head. “Work your Kuchiki glamour on someone else, Byakuya. It doesn't work on me.”

 

“A pity.” He paused and allowed the teasing edge fade away into something more serious. “What is wrong with Kaien?”

 

“He found out what I'm doing,” Ichigo answered after a moment, the joking tone disappearing from his expression.

 

Which was a miracle since not even Byakuya knew what Ichigo's current plans were. Ichigo had only asked that he look after the children for a few hours, something that Byakuya was always glad to do.

 

“And that would be?”

 

Ichigo hesitated, his eyes glancing everywhere but at Byakuya, even going so far as to examine the polished floors. Just like Kaien when he was trying to hide something he had done.

 

“I'm going to talk to Rukia,” he answered finally. “And I told Kaien he couldn't come, which is why he's sulking.”

 

Byakuya absorbed this information, unable to keep the faint frown from pulling at his lips.

 

“Alone?” he tentatively questioned, his concern overriding his sense of courtesy. Ichigo never cared for such things anyway.

 

No wavering this time. “Yes.”

 

Byakuya hesitated and then drove forward. “Ichigo, are you sure that's wise?”

 

“Yes,” Ichigo said firmly, repeating himself. “I don't need supervision. If I'm going to tell my wife that I'm considering divorce, it will be without some babysitter in the room.”

 

Byakuya was surprised by the determination in his tone but not as surprised by the hints of regret and sadness. It was clearly a decision that Ichigo had spent many long nights on, and judging by the dark circles and fatigue in his shoulders, most of them were recent. He was even more surprised by Ichigo's declaration itself. His friend had never even mentioned that he was considering divorce.

 

He took a deep breath and inclined his head. “I understand,” he answered quietly, choosing to no longer press the point.

 

Ichigo was an adult and captain-class at that. He couldn't physically be hurt. That was how Byakuya reassured himself.

 

Ichigo paused and looked at him, the frustration once lacing his tone now vanished. “It's fine. I'm not angry,” he said, though Byakuya had made no insinuations into believing that Ichigo was upset with him.

 

That damn understanding between them. It echoed of Zaraki, and Byakuya suddenly wanted to strangle the man again.

 

Ichigo's eyes caught sight of a clock. He muttered a low curse, dragging his attention to the Kuchiki heir.

 

“I've got to get going. I'll come pick them up about... five?” he hazarded a guess, assuming that their conversation wouldn't take any longer than an hour.

 

However, Byakuya shook his head. “Just head home. Get some rest. I'll keep them for the night.”

 

“They don't have any of their stuff though,” Ichigo said, not sure if he was willing to spring the children on Byakuya for so long without prior notification. Hadn't he impeded on Byakuya's good nature long enough?

 

The look the other captain gave him was firm. “It's not as if they don't leave enough of it here,” Byakuya said in his take-no-nonsense, captain-authority tone. “You can also have Tohru bring the twins here later.”

 

Realizing that Byakuya was not to be dissuaded, Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. He really wasn't looking forward to fielding questions after talking to Rukia, nor did he want to try and explain what was going to be happening soon.

 

“Fine,” he agreed, well aware that he was already tensing over the meeting to come. His usual stubborn behavior didn't even last beyond a few sentences.

 

“I'll bring them over tomorrow,” Byakuya continued, heading to the door and opening it again, wondering why he even bothered to close it. “Before I head into the office.”

 

Ichigo nodded absentmindedly. “That'll work,” he answered, the sense of relief washing through him countering the anxiety knotting up his shoulders. “Thanks.”

 

“None needed.”

 

He nodded again and stepped to the door, only to pause in the threshold. He hesitated, turning to look back at Byakuya. A strange realization trickling in through everything else.

 

He heard his wife's voice, telling him that there was something. And he wondered when he started being certain of the other man's presence. When he stopped worrying about everyone else because the only opinion that seemed to matter to him was Byakuya's. Or how he seemed to know that no matter what happened, he would turn around and Byakuya would always be there, right behind him. Or when looking into those grey eyes, always made him feel better, warmer and less stressed.

 

Somewhere, somehow, he had started depending on Byakuya, started relying on his presence. And it didn't bother him to realize this because it had been there all along. Byakuya was his best friend, but it was more, too. It was something.

 

Maybe it was what Rukia had pointed out. Maybe that something was what she meant all along. And while Ichigo had never actually done anything with Byakuya, his subconscious had apparently decided to take its own path and make more.

He wondered how long it had been this way. And then, he wondered what he was supposed to do about it. Maybe nothing. Like they had all along.

 

`But there's something,' Rukia had said to him.

 

What that something was he wasn't sure.

 

But a part of him knew that he was glad to have Byakuya with him. That he looked forward to every moment spent with the man. That it was simply natural and there, always when he looked and even when he didn't. Sometimes, he didn't have to because he knew the Kuchiki heir would be right there to help him.

 

The realization didn't come to Ichigo like a lightning bolt or a sudden understanding. It didn't hit him all the sudden, leaving him swirling in the wake of shock and confusion. It just slowly filtered in until he had no choice but to accept it.

 

Somewhere along the way he had fallen into something with Byakuya. And just like his usual Kurosaki ways, it chose the worst time to stand up and force him to take notice.

 

“Ichigo?”

 

The captain blinked and looked at his best friend in a sudden new light.

 

Concern was in grey eyes.

 

Ichigo shook his head. “No, it's nothing,” he responded, raking a hand through his hair as his mental equilibrium did a very unsteady shift into awkward territory. “I'll see you tomorrow,” he tossed over his shoulder as he stepped onto the walk.

 

He knew that Byakuya wasn't assured by his reply but accepted it nonetheless.

 

Ignoring the eyes he knew were following his departure, Ichigo quickly flitted into shunpo heading for the location that he and Rukia had agreed on. He specifically pushed away all thoughts of his recent understanding from his mind. It had no place in the conversation he was about to take part in.

 

He couldn't afford to be thinking of Byakuya at the moment, especially not when he was bringing up the suggestion of divorce to his current wife. It seemed… wrong for lack of a better word. He would look at the realization later, dissect it, add rational, figure out where the hell his common sense had gone.

 

But for now... now, he needed to be calm before his emotions tore him apart. Otherwise, he wouldn't survive unscathed.

 

Decision firmly entrenched, Ichigo put another burst of speed in his step and headed for Rukongai.

 

They were meeting on neutral ground, in a small tea shop in one of the higher districts. It was rarely visited by any Shinigami they might know. And with the abandonment of their usual Shinigami garb, few would be able to recognize them. Even with Ichigo's visible and highly noticeable hair.

 

The waitress ushered Ichigo to a table near a window where Rukia was already waiting, hands folded in her lap as she stared out through the opening. A light breeze was coming in, warm but cooled by the shadows, which ruffled at her hair. It only served to outline just how very tired she was.

 

Ichigo wondered if he looked the same. Wan, pale, drawn out. Dark circles lining her eyes and something pained pulling at the corner of her lips. Clothes neatly pressed and clean, if only to hide the sorry state of the rest of her body.

 

Yet, she was still the most beautiful he had ever seen.

 

Rukia looked up as the waitress led him to the table, and he lowered himself down across from her. He accepted the menu with a smile, not that he would be ordering, and put it aside. After asking for a cup of green tea, the waitress whisked away and left the couple alone.

 

Silence reigned as they looked at each other, finally alone together for the first time in weeks. Or months, to be more honest. At least three. It was such a short time for a Shinigami, though it seemed to stretch ages for Ichigo.

 

“I was surprised you asked me to come.”

 

Ichigo frowned. “Surprised?”

 

“Yes,” she admitted and then looked around pointedly. “Where's nii-sama?” It was enough proof that she was aware of their usual chaperone.

 

“Not here,” Ichigo answered, shaking his head. “He doesn't need to be. No one does. This is between you and me.”

 

“Oh.” A moment before understanding dawned in her face, mixed with a hefty dose of resignation. She had a good idea of what he had come there for. “I see.”

 

He looked at her, and it was all the reminder he needed of how much he missed her. But he also knew that he simply couldn't keep hanging on to nothing. If she wouldn't decide then he would for the sake of their children and his own anxious heart if nothing else.

 

He met her eyes evenly, forcing a bravery he didn't feel. “I can't do this anymore,” Ichigo said softly and pretended not to notice that she was wringing her hands in her lap. “I can't keep waiting.”

 

She was quiet for a moment, long enough for the waitress to bring their tea and leave again before she responded.

 

“I wondered,” Rukia began, her own gaze unable to keep his. “I wondered how long it would take.”

 

Ichigo remained silent, letting her speak her peace. He couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat and wrapped fingers around the cup he had no intention of drinking. The warmth crept through the white porcelain and into his fingers, warming skin that felt a bit too cold for the warm weather.

 

“I know you wanted me to decide, but I couldn't,” Rukia explained, the words coming out slowly and hesitantly. “I wasn't ready.”

 

“What makes you think I am?” he demanded a bit more sharply than he intended and fought to quiet his tone. Somehow, her answers were only making him angry, or maybe it was just the hurt, lashing out and seeking some sort of reprieve. “Can you even guess how it feels to constantly tell our children `I don't know' because you won't tell me either?”

 

She flinched. And he felt justified in it in some small fashion.

 

“I'll explain it to them.”

 

“That doesn't make it better.”

 

“I know,” Rukia answered rather loudly herself.

 

For a moment he was surprised by it. The cowed individual he saw in front of him sometimes didn't resemble his wife, but then, there it was. That steel he knew so well.

 

She squared her shoulders and drew up straight, finding the courage somewhere within her. A part of him was glad to see it. “I know it doesn't, but it's all I can offer you, Ichigo. I was the one who left, who made the mistakes.”

 

He worked his jaw. “I don't know how to fix it,” Ichigo responded, watching her closely, feeling something inside of him cracked. “Kami knows I tried. But I don't know how to fix... us. Not anymore.”

 

Her fingers tangled together, completely ignoring the steaming cup in front of her. “I don't know that there's a way.” She looked up at him, eyes taking on a pained sheen. “I hurt you. I can't just take that back.”

 

Ichigo knew in that moment that she wasn't even going to fight it, fight him for what they had. Despite her inability to make a decision, she had already resigned herself to the truth, to the facts. She was prepared to let him go, and it hurt more than he knew how to handle. Like the last grip on his restraint finally slipped free, leaving him to slide off the edge.

 

His fingers tightened around the cup. “No, you can't,” he said, voice thick.

 

It was his turn to slide his eyes away, staring out the window where people were passing by, so happy in their lives. Smiling and laughing. Parents and their children. A life that he used to have as well.

 

It was a testament to the passing time that he was willing to admit she had hurt him, and Rukia knew it as well as he did.

 

He took a deep breath. “You don't have to do anything, but sign the papers,” Ichigo explained, knowing that full disclosure wasn't necessary. Rukia understood what was coming as much as he did. “I'll get them approved and drawn up.”

 

He caught the emotions flickering across her face, a mixture of resignation and pain, the last remnants of wanting to cling to their old life. Though she put on the front of strength, that she was ready to accept whatever Ichigo decided, it was clear that Rukia couldn't simply walk away without looking back. She still wanted him, and Ichigo couldn't decide if that hurt more to know or eased the pain.

 

“You're that prepared to be rid of me?”

 

“Rukia.” He was aware that she was only expressing her own hurt, but it was still painful to hear her say it so plainly. As if he hadn't spent hours and nights lying awake, thinking about their marriage and their life together. “That's unfair.”

 

She sighed and finally reached for her cup. He took no pride in seeing the slow fading of the white on her knuckles or the ever-deepening lines in her face. She was too young to be appearing this aged, and he wondered if the same stress showed on his face.

 

“I know. It isn't even really my right to be so bitter either, is it?”

 

He didn't know how to answer that question, not sure what his wife was implying. The waitress chose that moment to wander by, politely asking if they would like a refill of their drinks. She was dismissed with equal courtesy. Honestly, neither Kurosaki had really touched their tea. It was simply there in front of them, a mask to hide the true reason behind their meeting.

 

Once the woman was gone, Rukia broke the uneasiness between them with the next question that Ichigo himself had been hesitant to bring up. “And the children?”

 

He froze for a moment, words failing him. He knew the topic would come up but hadn't been able to come to terms with it himself. He knew in most cases the mother was usually granted custody, but he also knew that he couldn't stand to be apart from his children. They were his life.

 

“I...”

 

“It's fine,” Rukia interrupted before he could so much as stutter. “The current arrangements seem to be satisfactory.” Yet, she couldn't completely hide the regret from her tone. She played at sounding fine with it, but inside, she was breaking.

 

He shook his head. “It is not enough for them,” Ichigo insisted as he thought of Kaien's sulking and Syaoran's increased attempts at proving to be just fine, to be happy even though she cried herself to sleep many nights. “Especially for the twins. They've barely gotten to know you.” And if things continued, they would never even know her. Ichigo didn't want that for his children.

 

The admission could not have been easy. Ichigo could only blink in surprise, watching his wife in stunned disbelief.

 

She exhaled deeply, unable to keep his gaze. “After all, I'm the one who abandoned them first. I don't have the right to be called their mother.”

 

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. “Regardless of what anyone says, you will always be their mother,” he stated firmly, unwilling to argue on that point. “I wouldn't dare try to take that from you.”

 

“Thank you.” Her voice cracked, betraying the emotion she had been trying so desperately to hold back.

 

The both of them were pretending here, discussing their future like mature adults, feigning a lack of hurt for every word and choice. Ichigo wondered which of them would break first or if it even mattered. The hot burning behind his eyelids, threatening to make a fool of him certainly thought different.

 

“I do love them,” Rukia added quietly. “And it pains me to be apart from them. But my division will be starting our extra patrols soon, and I have to lead many of them. I may not be able to see the children as often as I'd like.”

 

“Whatever time you can manage will be all they ask for,” Ichigo assured her, trying to ignore the niggle of worry worming its way inside of him. He knew what patrols Rukia meant, remembered their discussion at the captain's meeting a month prior.

 

His wife was strong and very capable, but he couldn't help his worry. Strange and new Hollows stank of Aizen and his experiments. It meant they couldn't be certain of anything, including assessed strength and abilities. It meant she had to be extra careful.

 

Rukia inclined her head, fingers rubbing at the elegant detail on the outside of her cup. “How are they?”

 

Ichigo hesitated at the seemingly simple question. He knew that if he answered her outright, the truth would hurt, bring her even more pain than she was already suffering. And she was already bearing most of the burden of their separation. He couldn't do that to her.

 

“The twins are maturing more and more each day,” he answered, edging away from the query. “Kaien is still quite determined to enter the Academy, pestering Ikkaku even more than usual for training. And Syaoran's becoming more of a mini-Byakuya every time I turn around.”

 

Her lips curl into a small smile, a light chuckle escaping from her lips. “Sometimes, I wonder if they are our children or Soul Society's.”

 

Ichigo's fingers tangled together, one finding the gold band and smoothing over the inscribed metal. “They'll always be our children.”

 

A heavy silence fell between them.

 

Rukia took a great breath. “Ichigo… I know that words are useless in the long run, but I feel like I should apologize. For everything.”

 

Her shoulders hunched as she curled both hands around the cup, absorbing what little warmth remained within it. “You didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my frustrations. And I wish I had never made that mistake.”

 

Ichigo was left speechless, watching his normally proud wife apologize to him. Admitting her own mistakes. He never expected an apology, hadn't been waiting for one. And yet, here she was, freely giving the words.

 

Truthfully, he had forgiven her long ago.

 

He closed his eyes and forcefully pushed away the worming thought that he was making a mistake. “Thank you,” he responded simply and uncurled his fingers from his untouched tea.

 

Ichigo rose to his feet, dropping some money on the table to pay for their drinks. He felt her eyes lift towards him, such a beautiful blue.

 

One truth deserved another, as did one apology.

 

He paused next to the table. His fingers lingered on the polished wood, though his eyes found the exit, cloth hanging in front of the door to block the warm air. “I think that I'm beginning to understand what you meant,” Ichigo murmured and then dragged his gaze back towards her. “About me and your brother. For what it's worth, I never wanted it to be this way.”

 

“What a coincidence.” A faint smile, dry and cracked around the edges. “Neither did I.”

 

With nothing left to say, Ichigo knew he needed to leave before he broke down in public. But he hesitated, lingering by the table, wishing he had more words. His fingers fell away from the top, and then, he was gone. He left his wife behind in a cafe somewhere in Rukongai. Ichigo knew that it was more than that though, that there was more still sitting in that seat than just the woman he loved.

 

Forty years were there. Time spent together. A life they had worked hard to build. There were battles fought side by side and embarrassing moments of awkwardness into new love. There was still love, though it remained on opposite sides of an uncrossable chasm.

 

He wasn't sure what he felt as he left the coffee shop, stepping out into the warm and humid sunlight. He felt numb, emotionally drained, even empty. He wasn't happy at the outcome, nor relieved. He didn't feel accomplished for finally gaining the ability to move on. In fact, part of him wanted to return to the stagnancy, simply because it meant he still had the choice to make.

 

Ichigo also knew that there was no turning back. He had made his decision, and there was nothing left but to sign the papers.

 

Raking a hand through his hair and biting down on a frustrated sigh, Ichigo longed for a fight. Something simple, something easy to understand. Where the enemy was clearly defined and all he had to do was win. Where he could jump in recklessly and rely on his damned Kurosaki luck to come out victorious.

 

What he wouldn't give for a sudden ryoka invasion.

 

- - - - -

 

AN: A bit shorter than usual.