Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ She Will Be Loved ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

She Will Be Loved

 

By Tituba

 

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

 

(A/N: You do not know how badly it's killing me to update on an actual schedule. I mean, it's 20 minutes into the 20th and I'm updating. Urg I hate schedules.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed.

Once again, tell me what you think. Hugs and kisses!)

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

“Hey Rukia,” Keigo asked thoughtfully as they walked down the sunlit sidewalk. “Are you doing anything for homecoming? I mean, you didn't do anything last year, and this is your senior year. Are you going?”

 

Rukia shrugged lightly and rolled her eyes for show, “You know Nii-sama, he might want me to stay home and recite The Iliad.”

 

Ishida gave her a snide look, “You've memorized The Iliad?”

 

“Not by choice.”

 

“I remember,” Ichigo chimed in, his voice low and gravelly. “When Rukia was seven her brother made her read all of Shakespeare's sonnets. In English.”

 

Rukia made a face but was silently rejoicing Ichigo's involvement in the conversation. “I hated all of them. But you actually understood them, once they were translated.”

 

Ichigo grinned in the way that he grinned, a frown still on his face but a slight quirk on his lips nonetheless. “You were so mad. You didn't understand why I was getting it and you weren't.”

 

“What can I say?” She sniped, her heart was thrilled that Ichigo was speaking to her like he used to, even though it was probably because he wanted to keep up pretenses, but… still. She didn't care so long as she could hear his contented voice. “I hate poetry. All that gibberish with the rhymes and the rhythm, ugh. I especially hate all the hidden meaning that supposedly buried somewhere underneath all of that crap.”

 

Ishida chuckled and shook his head. “You, Kuchiki, are too much of a cynic.”

 

Rukia grinned, “But honestly, do you really think all those poets from hundreds of years ago actually thought that they could hide some deeper meaning of love beneath loads of prattle about… about… I don't know, insects or some rock on a hill or whatnot?”

 

She raced ahead of everyone and turned so she would be walking backwards, facing her friends. “I just hate how poets take forever to say something simple. Why can't they just get it out immediately? `I love you.' Done. It's that easy!”

 

“But Rukia!” Orihime interjected, silently, Rukia wanted to punch the girls face in. She and Ichigo were talking. She didn't want Orihime to interfere at all. “The whole beauty of poetry would be destroyed if they all said what they wanted to say.”

 

“Don't worry,” Ichigo told his girlfriend, “She's just angry because she can't understand poetry very well.”

 

Rukia scowled at him, “Of course I can understand poetry. Well, after a while anyway. I just hate how poets sugarcoat messages to showcase their talent or ability. Not to mention, sometimes, people interpret the poem wrong while others don't even try to get the gist of it…” she sighed and threw her hands into the air. “The business of reading poems is just too complex to even be bothered with.”

 

Ishida, Keigo, and Ichigo let out short chuckles and inside Rukia could feel her heart soaring at the sound of Ichigo's laughter.

 

Orihime giggled and slipped her hand into Ichigo's. Rukia's heart immediately stopped soaring.

 

“You know what my favorite poem is?” The orange-haired girl asked teasingly to her boyfriend, stroking the inside of his arm with her fingertips. Ichigo was wearing a short-sleeved uniform top, giving Orihime more room to fondle.

 

“What?” Ichigo asked, clearly not at all interested at all in the poem Orihime was about to recite. He didn't, however, seem to mind her hand touching his.

 

Orihime giggled and ran up to join Rukia at the top of the procession. She began striding backwards, her large breasts bouncing as she skipped along the sidewalk. “The earth is brown,” she clapped her hands in front of her and giggled again, her shiny hair gleaming in the sun, “The grass is green,” the girl twirled once more before lifting her hands in the air for a dramatic finish. “And all the worms live in between!” She burst out laughing at her own joke and twirled around once again. She opened her eyes at the gaggle of people before her and smiled widely, “Isn't it great?”

 

Ichigo jerked his head in response and Rukia felt like throwing up. How Ichigo had ever chosen someone like her was completely beyond Rukia's comprehension.

 

As the group rounded the corner, still discussing poetry in it's various forms—Ichigo loved the Shakespearean sonnet, Rukia was more preferential to ballads, Orihime enjoyed limericks, Ishida liked sestinas, Chad read free verse, and Keigo hadn't picked up a poetry book in his entire life—Rukia's large house soon came into view. She broke off from the path and gently waved her friends away, her eyes lingering for just a bit on Ichigo before she turned and began to walk up the driveway.

 

“See you all tomorrow!” She waved. Yes, she would see them tomorrow. Ichigo would not be coming tonight. She didn't need to wait for him.

 

“Rukia!” Keigo called, she was almost to the top of the steps leading to her house. Keigo's voice was faint but she could still hear it.

 

“What?” She called, a large, false, grin on her face.

 

“You never answered my question about homecoming!” He shouted, his hands cupping the sides of his mouth to let the sound travel a bit further.

 

Rukia's chest constricted slightly and she had to take a deep breath before answering. “I'll tell you tomorrow!”

 

She turned and rushed into her house, Keigo's voice floated just a bit into the room but she ignored it, she didn't want to talk about homecoming.

 

“I'm home!” She called into the rather empty house. A maid was in the foyer dusting and greeted Rukia formally as soon as the young girl saw her. Rukia said hello in return and asked if Haji was home.

 

“I believe he's in the billiard room, Kuchiki-san.” The elderly woman said kindly.

 

“Rukia,” she corrected immediately, “And thanks.”

 

The woman nodded and Rukia sighed. No matter how hard she tried to convince them to call her by her given name the servants in the house still addressed her formally. Rukia sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed a red apple from a basket in the top and absentmindedly munched on it as she weaved her way to the billiard room.

 

The Kuchiki Estate was the largest building in the entirety of Karakura Town. When her brother-in-law had purchased the manor many years ago the rumor was that it had once been a home-away-from-home for European royalty. The building had three stories; the first floor was designated for an elegant dining room, a kitchen, a patio, and a few gaming rooms. The second floor was strictly for family use, it had numerous bedrooms and bathrooms which greatly outnumbered the three of the Kuchiki Clan and all of their servants. The third floor was greatly unused and was simply a massive storage area for priceless memorabilia, Kuchiki family antiques, cleaning materials, and when she had been younger, an unmapped treasure trove for Rukia. She couldn't remember how many hours she had spent in the third floor, simply going from room to room, pulling open boxes and unlatching cabinets. Byakuya had gotten angry at her when she accidentally pushed over a priceless tea ceremony set over two thousand years old but Hisana had simply laughed the indiscretion off, saying that it was the nature of a child to break things and that they should be thankful that she hadn't destroyed the Ming Vase. From then on Rukia had been forbidden from going into the third floor.

 

It had been Ichigo who had egged her on and encouraged her to continue investigating the treasures that rested in the upper floor. For hours they would sneak inside while Byakuya was at work. Sometimes Hisana would join them and together they would look around the endless alcoves for gleaming vases, strange instruments, and tiny figurines. Once they had even found a couple of kimono's over one hundred years old. Rukia had been afraid to touch them but Ichigo convinced her to try them on. She remembered feeling like a princess as she dressed in the colored cloths and wrapped garments. She had giggled when she came out and paraded in front of Ichigo and her older sister. The kimono was huge and hung off her tiny body pathetically but no one truly cared. Rukia had danced around the room prettily. Hisana was laughing softly and goaded Ichigo up to dance with Rukia.

 

Rukia never knew that Ichigo could even blush until she felt his bigger hands wrap around hers smaller ones.

 

They had moved to a slow beat, provided by Hisana tapping her foot on the floor. Ichigo guided Rukia slowly, her goofy smile brightening the room around them. They were only eleven. She would occasionally tap her feet wildly and add a different jig to Ichigo's stoic steps.

 

She remembered how she had giggled and how he had laughed as they danced and danced around the room.

 

Rukia's heart heaved with a heavy sigh. Only five years from that happy day she was currently sleeping with him.

 

“Hi Haji,” Rukia muttered through a crunchy apple as she pushed open the door to the billiard room.

 

Her elderly butler raised head and smiled softly from his inspection of the small bar near the edge of the room. “Well good afternoon Kuchiki-san.”

 

“Rukia.” She responded sourly. “Haji, you've been with me since I was two, I think it's all right for you to call me Rukia.”

 

“If you say so Kuchiki-san.” Haji said with a smile.

 

Rukia rolled her eyes dramatically and took a seat one of the bar stools. Haji had been a servant to Byakuya since he was a small boy and when the noble Kuchiki heir married Hisana, Haji had followed him with a smile and a loving heart. He was always around when Rukia was growing up. Always ready with a smile. He made her favorite soup when she was sick and read her stories when Hisana was out with her husband. He was like a very loveable uncle who was just always there.

 

“So,” Haji said as he polished another spotless glass, “How was school?”

 

“Dull,” Rukia answered automatically. “As usual.”

 

“You just need something new to learn.” He said, his voice calming her tense mood. Rukia sat on the stool and munched on her apple as Haji continued to wipe the glasses. It was a comfortable silence, one that had developed over years of close contact and security. Rukia simply loved just being with Haji; it made her feel warm and safe.

 

She used to enjoy sitting like this with Ichigo, normally they would be outside, perhaps in the park or even on his lawn. They would simply sit, staring at the skies, occasionally pointing out interestingly shaped clouds or counting the number of birds that flew above them. It never used to be awkward. It never used to be forced.

 

“How's your friend Kurosaki-san?”

 

Rukia raised her eyes to Haji and swiftly looked away. He was staring directly at her as he asked the question, knowing that she would answer with a quick glance in his direction. She hoped he didn't see the pain in her eyes.

 

“He's… he's fine,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice a bit cheerier than it had been previously. “We have this new project coming up in, um, science. We have to, um, build a replica of an animal cell.”

 

“Oh?” Haji asked.

 

“Yeah,” Rukia's voice started to lower and she knew that she couldn't keep the pain from creeping inside. “We might, um, work… together.”

 

Haji nodded quietly, his knowledgeable head bobbing silently in agreement. “That boy used to come around quite frequently,” he murmured softly. “I wonder what he's doing after school these days.”

 

“Probably necking with his girlfriend.” Rukia could not keep the tone of bitterness out of her voice. She glared at the counter and felt little drips of apple juice flow down on her fingers, “Orihime.” She finally spat out bitterly.

 

“Ah.” Haji said gently.

 

They sat in silence for a few moments. Rukia licked away the bits of juice that had fallen from her apple.

 

“Well, you should invite him for dinner one of these days.” He said.

 

Rukia blinked up at her aged butler and wondered if he knew something he wasn't supposed to know. Ever since she and Ichigo had started… well, doing what they were doing Haji had never asked her any odd questions. She remembered after the second time Ichigo had come to her she had cried the entire night. She came down to breakfast and was not hungry for anything. She knew that Haji saw her red-rimmed eyes and the purple splotches decorating her face. He did not, however, question her at all. He simply encouraged her to take a small nap when she arrived home from school.

 

Now, however, Haji had a certain look deep within his iris. It twinkled softly and seemed to color them just a bit darker than normal. Rukia swallowed softly at the thought of Haji discovering what really happened that caused those mornings filled with stomach aches and red eyes.

 

She blushed and looked away. “Yes, I should.”

 

But won't. She told herself.

 

Haji continued polishing the glasses and Rukia smiled, “So, Haji, you wanna give me a shot of sake?”

 

Haji grinned gently at her and pressed a wrinkled hand to his heart, “My goodness, Kuchiki-san, a young girl like you?”

 

Rukia twirled her hands in the air and pretended to be a little floozy at a bar stool. “I'm not young! C'mon, you can definitely gimme a shot!” She erupted into giggles and rested her forehead on the spotless counter. Her heart was light as she joked around with Haji.

 

Truth be told, he was really the last one left that she could act silly in front of. Sure, there were her friends but… Rukia sighed and folded her hands below her, pressing her cheek against her palm. She wished she had new friends.

 

Or at least the old Ichigo back.

 

She sat up and hopped off the stool, smiling at Haji while she moved, “I'm going to go do homework.”

 

“Alright. Do you need anything?” The elderly man asked.

 

“No,” Rukia waved him away and walked up the stairs to her large room.

 

Sighing softly she placed her bag on the bed. Her eyes traveled to the large mattress and covers. Her throat tightened as she saw her body, lying down on the bed spread, his pulsating form above hers, her legs were open wide and his breath was short. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment and wondered why her knees suddenly felt so weak.

 

Calmly, she went to her full-length mirror and stood silently before it. She hated doing these body inspections but… but she just couldn't help it. She needed to know that there was nothing wrong with her. She needed to know that Ichigo was not with her because there was something wrong with him. Not her.

 

Her hands went to her uniform shirt and she slowly began to unbutton it. She glanced at her small hands and spidery fingers. Her nails were left unpolished. She slowly slipped the garment off of her fingers and sighed at the smallness of her frame. Her shoulders were narrow and tiny. Her waist was small but held none of the delicious curves that made Orihime so desired among the male population of the school.

 

But Ichigo had her. He wasn't letting go.

 

She stared at her breasts through the thin material of her brazier and she sighed. Nothing short of drastic surgery would make them as large as he wanted them to be. She raised her hands and cupped them lightly. She always thought small breasts were better. They didn't get in the way and she could sleep on her stomach without feeling any pain whatsoever. But Ichigo… he never once touched her breasts.

 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved her hands to the back of her skirt. She pulled the zipper down and let the cotton fabric slide down her legs.

 

Her little legs topped off with even littler feet. She turned herself to the side and whimpered. Why was she not there? Why did the gods feel fit to create such a slip of a creature? She must have been made as something of a cruel joke. She was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

 

Then… “Why?” She whispered, her teeth biting her lower lip shakily. “Why do you love her but use me?”

 

She wanted to stop it. Each and every time she wanted to be the strong one. To push him away and demand that he tell her what they were. She wanted to know. She needed to know. Each time she wanted to shove him back out her window and watch him creep shamefully down the tree. She wanted to wake up Haji, call Nii-sama, alert the authorities. She wanted him to hold her, to let her kiss him, to touch her the way any lover should touch her. She wanted to escape the power he held over her. She wanted so much to be free of him.

 

But she couldn't.

 

She loved him.

 

Rukia let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. How could she? How could she possibly love him after all that he had put her through? How could she after he came and used her so many times? How could she?

 

She hated herself for loving him so completely. She truly did. She wanted to be able to break free… she desperately wanted to… she just couldn't. Not when he needed her so much. Not when she loved him so much.

 

The tears fell freer than they ever had.

 

He was the reason she hated life. Yet he was also the reason she needed to keep living. Someday… some glorious day she might come to school and see that Ichigo had finally broken up with Orihime. That he might look at her and kiss her for the first time. She wanted him deeply. She wanted him intrusively. She wanted every part of him. She wanted all of him to love her. Every last part.

 

Half of her was disgusted for feeling like this. She hated that she was so dependant on the feelings of one boy. She despised the idea that she would wait for him. She loathed the fantasies she would have of him coming to her spontaneously and kissing the ever loving life out of her. She couldn't stand how weak she was when it came to him. She was a smart, talented, and resourceful woman. His words, his smiles, his rumpled hair, should not hold such a great power over her.

 

She hated herself. She loved him. It was a vicious cycle.

 

Rukia slowly placed her robe over her shoulders and climbed softly into her bed. Her tired mind was telling her not to dream of him.