Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ She Will Be Loved ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

She Will Be Loved

 

By Tituba

 

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

 

(A/N: Sorry for the late update, today was a crappy day at school. Anyway, I officially love everyone who has reviewed this fic. I'm so appreciative you have no idea. I love all the comments I've gotten from people who are glad that I'm writing this fic or the comments that are from people venting their feelings and expectations. It makes me feel really good that lots of people appreciate this fic.

Plus, to VenusLegacy, when I read your review I squealed. Thank you!

 

Please, tell me what you think. Hugs and kisses.)

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

The train to Hiroshima was not as crowded as Rukia thought it would be. She found a nice spot near the head of the car and sat quietly for the ride. She knew that it would take no longer than a few hours.

 

Her head leaned towards the window and her eyes gazed unseeingly outside. The countryside zoomed past faster than anything. She could barely catch a glimpse of the buildings off in the distance or the little houses up close. Curves had her leaning towards the glass and her breath fogged the pane whenever she got too close.

 

On one of the stops an elderly couple came and sat next to her. She could tell that they would have wanted to talk to her about something, where she was going, the weather, the Prime Minister, or even show her pictures of their grandchildren, but Rukia avoided eye contact. She didn't really want to engage in a meaningless conversation with such a happy group. She was sure that they were lovely people and that they were quite content to sit in slight silence, only murmuring to one another when the situation required. But, try as she might, Rukia still found such a display a distaste. She used to think that she and Ichigo might have been like that. She remembered thinking, after their first time together, that Ichigo would overcome his awkwardness and eventually come to love her. Confess his feelings to her. Do something of that nature.

 

But no… he had had other things in mind. Rukia sighed and turned her head from the couple. She hated seeing what could have been.

 

She didn't know how long she sat there, simply staring out the window, the early morning dawn breaking over the country hills as the train paraded through town after town. Her seat hummed quietly and her body vibrated. She sighed and told herself not to slip into peaceful sleep. Oddly enough, she thought that the only way she could sleep now was on a train, suspended in a type of limbo between where she wanted to go and where she wanted to leave. She was in a place that didn't know her, that would never know her, that didn't even ask her name. She was just a girl, traveling to Hiroshima… that was all that mattered.

 

She stepped off the train after a few hours, leaving the elderly couple behind. As she went towards the exit she paused and turned to them, nodding softly before moving away. They smiled at her and continued reading their newspaper. It was disgustingly cute the way they had it divided up—he read the front page and the sports section while she took lifestyle and home economics.

 

Rukia sighed and stepped onto the platform. The smog and the smoke from the train clogged her lungs and she coughed slightly. She placed a hand over her mouth and continued to clear her throat. She tossed her tote over her shoulder and began to jog towards the station.

 

A couple of cabs were waiting for the people coming off the train and Rukia hailed one of them. She entered it quickly and told him the street. The older man in the front seat nodded and began to drive.

 

Rukia looked out the windows once again and sighed. Her eyes trailed over the large houses, the office buildings, the developments, the shops, and the markets. She sighed softly, in the back of her mind she was thinking of what the city must have looked like only sixty years ago, after the bombing.

 

The cab ride only took about thirty minutes and by the end of it Rukia almost wished that it lasted a bit longer. Just so she could ride around and look at the sights a while longer. The driver parked in front of a charming townhouse and she passed him a large bill.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured and grasped her bags tightly. Her nerves were beginning to well back into her blood. She never thought her nerves would start to come back at a time like this. Was she supposed to start crying as soon as she saw Uncle Jushiro and Aunt Retsu? All of the circumstances surrounding her made the idea quite plausible but now… after she had been so calm these last few hours… was it even proper?

 

Snakes began to curl in the pit of her stomach and she immediately felt like retching. She didn't know what she should say. Never before had she simply shown up at a person's doorstep, nor had she ever randomly asked if she could stay with someone for a week. She shifted her feet as she stared at the front door to the nice townhouse. She wondered how they would react to… everything. About Hisana, about her brother, should she tell them about Ichigo? Would they be able to help her in any way?

 

She swallowed and drew in a deep breath.

 

They would. She knew they would. Besides, “Uncle” Jushiro used to be her tutor, she used to always beg his wife, Retsu, to bake the cookies that only she could make, and she used to play with their adopted son, Kaien, all the time when she was younger. A softening feeling came into her heart and she swallowed for courage. They wouldn't turn her away.

 

She took a step towards the building and heard a clicking from the door. To her surprise, it opened wide. Wide enough so that when she saw the person standing at the door, the shadows of light from the threshold didn't hold back the large grin that permeated his features.

 

Kaien was standing in front of the door, a childish grin plastered across his face. Rukia blinked twice at his sudden appearance and let her lips twitch into a small smile. He crossed thick arms over his muscular chest and leaned against the doorframe.

 

The first thing she noticed when she stared at his shining black hair, which was glistening in the sun and his strong arms layered over his cut chest, was simply how much he looked like… him.

 

It was true. The facial features. The cocky grin. The body type. The height. Even the hair style. It was all almost the same.

 

There were differences though. Kaien's face was wider and his grin seemed permanent. He didn't have the constant scowl Ichigo always seemed to have. Kaien was also a bit taller. His body was bulky and tall where Ichigo's was of slightly lankier build. Ichigo had tight sinew across his arms whereas Kaien bulged just a bit more.

 

Yet the only thing that would actually stop them from being almost identical was the color of their hair. Kaien's was black as night. It was like ink. Ichigo's was bright. His was the color of the setting sun.

 

She slowly looked at her friend as he stared her up and down. She knew that he could tell something was wrong. She knew that he could see the circles under her eyes. She knew he could see the stoop in her once proud shoulders. She knew that he could see the paleness of her skin.

 

Finally, his eyes came up to meet hers. She sucked in a breath and tried not to seem like she was waiting for his… his… approval.

 

The last time he saw her he knew her as a proud, confident, and stubborn Kuchiki. She wondered what he saw now… it must have been the complete opposite of her former self. Even she knew that she felt littler. She felt so tiny. She felt like a single grain of sand beating against the entirety of the ocean.

 

She wondered if he could see it.

 

He let a hand wander up to his scalp and scratched a tiny itch. A slow grin spread over his face and she felt a cold wave of relief go sweep through her body.

 

“Well,” he said casually, turning around and throwing her one last look over his shoulder, “Are you going to come in or are you just going to stand there all day?” He turned away and walked into the house.

 

Rukia smiled softly and hefted her bag higher up into her arms. She walked up the steps and silently thanked the gods for giving her this one piece of good fortune.

 

*~*~*

 

Haji Shikion found the letter when he rose at five. His expression was neutral as he read the elegantly dressed words as they flowed on the page. He folded the paper and pressed it to his suited breast for one moment before sighing and beginning to walk around the house, almost aimlessly. He seemed to always have a purpose when he managed this gracious house, but today, he just couldn't seem to muster the appropriate amount of effort to get anything completed.

 

The hours passed just like any other day. He ordered the other servants around, he made preparations for the garden and the upcoming winter, and did a bit of paperwork Kuchiki-sama had sent him. The day flew by just like normal. Except it wasn't like normal. Rukia wasn't coming home at three. He was usually waiting for her when she came. He always checked the window at two fifty five, just to make sure he would see her walking up the driveway with her friends. Then when she came in he always hid himself just inside the billiard room, waiting for her to announce her presence before coming out and greeting her, just like normal.

 

Nothing was normal anymore.

 

She had been hurting for such a long time. Almost two years in fact. He could see it in the change in her demeanor almost immediately. The days when she would come downstairs and not want to eat anything for breakfast. The days when she would come home from school and go straight to her room to sleep. The days when she was so dead to the world that hardly anything roused her from her stupor.

 

He missed the old Kuchiki-san. He missed that little, headstrong, stubborn, gleeful girl who used to play in the yard or go out with friends or simply laugh once in a while.

 

He paused and sighed, finding himself in the billiard room once again. He didn't know why he liked this place best out of all the rooms in the house… it was probably because this room was quiet and so cut off from everything else. It was barely used by anyone and he seemed to be the only one that ever came to clean it.

 

Yet, that wasn't it… when Kuchiki-sama and his wife lived here, and not in Tokyo, they would spend hours in this room. They would talk about their days, his work, Kuchiki-san, the household… anything that came to mind. Sometimes Kuchiki-san would even be with them and the two of them and they would tease and laugh at her. He would watch them when they were in such a mood. The cold demeanor of Kuchiki-sama would always slip away during such times and his true heart—the heart that had begun to show when he married Hisana-sama—reddened and warmed with love for his new family.

 

But now she was broken. She was hurting so much. He only wished he could do something to help.

 

Killing that Kurosaki boy might be a start.

 

Haji glowered softly and ran his forefinger over the top of the counter. Not a speck of dust came off onto the pad of his finger.

 

He knew. He knew because the boy never came over like he used to. He knew because each and every time he mentioned his name her face fell and her heart shrank. He knew because he could see the way her gaze lingered of his form as she stood at the door before entering the house. He knew because he knew her best of all. He knew because he could see her pain. He lived it as if it were his own.

 

The doorbell rang and Haji absentmindedly glanced up at the clock and frowned. It was three o'clock. But Kuchiki-san wasn't even here. She was somewhere and he didn't even know if she had gotten there safely. Had she taken the right train? What about a cab over to the house? He would have to call later tonight in order to make sure that she was alright.

 

But if he knew Kuchiki-san, and he did, he knew that she would be able to take care of herself. At least, she could take care of herself physically… emotionally was a different story.

 

The aged butler opened the door to the massive house and blinked out at the group of people now standing before him. In his mind, their names ticked off. The girl in the very front, with the large breasts and long orange hair was Orihime, the girl Kuchiki-san never liked. She was also the girl currently dating Ichigo Kurosaki. His eyes shifted to the back, where a large megalith of a man standing near the back. His skin was darker than the rest of his friends and Haji knew him to be Chad, well, Kuchiki-san had told him that his real name was Sado, but everyone called him Chad. Standing next to Chad was a lithe boy with shoulder-length brown hair. He seemed to be twitching on his feet and was perpetually dancing about. Haji knew of him to be Keigo. Kuchiki-san told him that this boy was always joking and always goofing around. Standing before Keigo was the boy with straight black hair and a pair of severe glasses. Ishida, the smart one who liked to sew.

 

Then in the very front, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of Orihime, was the one who was breaking his Kuchiki-san's heart into a billion tiny pieces.

 

His eyes were downcast and he seemed to be avoiding Haji's severe expression with all the strength he had in his body. His shoulders were slumped a bit and a reddish tinge was on his cheeks.

 

“Hello,” Haji said, his voice would have had warmth and life in it had it not been for Ichigo Kurosaki standing before him right now.

 

“Hello,” the girl with bright orange hair said quietly. She smiled heartily at him and cocked her head to the side, resting her pretty orange hair on Kurosaki's shoulder, a supposedly cute gesture but Haji could see through it. He knew how much gestures like that hurt his Kuchiki-san.

 

She smiled at him again and his hand tightened on the door. “We were wondering if Rukia was inside.”

 

Haji cleared his throat a bit and tried his best to keep the slight irritation out of his voice. Kuchiki-san was right, her voice could get on anyone's nerves. “I'm quite sorry,” he said politely, “She's not here.”

 

The boy with the glasses frowned, “But sir, she wasn't at school either.”

 

Haji nodded, glad to be focusing his attention on Ishida and not Orihime. “Yes, I'm afraid she's gone away for a while.”

 

Ichigo's head rose and his eyes widened just a bit. Haji saw panic spread across his face for just a moment. Haji narrowed his own eyes and wondered if Ichigo was thinking about who he would torture if he did not have Kuchiki-san.

 

Thankfully, it was Ishida who continued, “But then… if she wasn't at school and she's not here… where did she go?”

 

Haji swallowed and forced down the swell of worry that had grown exponentially in the pit of his stomach, “She went to Hiroshima this morning.”

 

“Alone?” Keigo asked, his eyes were wide with histrionic horror.

 

Haji nodded.

 

“You let her?” Came a harsh voice. Silence descended upon the group and everyone turned their heads towards Ichigo. His shoulders were taunt and his body rigid. His arm was no long around Orihime's shoulders but was at his side, his fist balled in abrupt anger. Haji looked up at the boy his Kuchiki-san once considered her friend. He had never seen the boy look so angry.

 

His gaze remained icy, something he had learned from Kuchiki-sama after the years of working for him. He fixed Kurosaki with a cold stare. “She left without my knowledge. She was gone before I woke up.”

 

“Why?” He asked. The desperation in his voice was plain to anyone who stumbled upon the scene at that moment.

 

Haji swallowed, the worry and hatred he had been trying to swell came back in full force, he tried not to let it show in his voice but it was difficult. This boy who had come and destroyed Kuchiki-san's life was now demanding to know where she was and why she left. As if he had any right to the information. He ruined her. He ruined her so badly that he wondered constantly if she would ever recover.

 

His old fist on the door shook and he took a step forward, now nose to nose with the one child who turned to much happiness into so much pain. His old eyes blazed with fire and his wrinkled forehead dipped low in heat.

 

“Kuchiki-san left this morning for Hiroshima to visit her former tutor. If my instincts are correct, she went there so she might get away from everything here.”

 

Ichigo held his ground but Haji could see how uncomfortable the boy was. “Get… away?”

 

Haji drew in a breath, his old heart beating just a bit faster than he supposed it should, “If you haven't noticed, Kuchiki-san has been… depressed lately. Now, with the death of her beloved sister, you might see why she wants to get away.”

 

A gasp resonated through the group. Ichigo's eyes widened. Horror, shame, and panic mingling in his eyes all at once.

 

Orihime was the first to animatedly speak. “What? Her sister… died?”

 

“Yes,” Haji said, his eyes not leaving Kurosaki's face, “She found out yesterday. I presume during school. Her brother sent her a letter to read. Her sister passed away two weeks ago. She was not even allowed to attend the funeral.”

 

Four pairs of eyes cast themselves downward, only one, belonging to the orange-haired boy, remained as they were. Glazed, horrified, and terrified.

 

“She's left for some time to recuperate.” He murmured finally, moving back towards the door, “And I suppose that's for the best. After all,” he stared long and hard at Ichigo Kurosaki, “She's had so much happen to her. She needs time.”

 

The silence was now overpowering. Haji could practically see the five minds spinning before him. One of them in particular was whirling out of control. Haji could see everything reflected in Ichigo Kurosaki's eyes.

 

Everything: Pain. Shame. Revulsion. Shock. Dismay. Want. Need. Worry.

 

Yes, Haji thought as he looked at Kuchiki-san's “friends,” I want you to worry, Kurosaki, worry for her. Feel some of her pain. Not just your own.

 

He inclined his head towards the group of teens and murmured his goodbyes. He slowly backed from the door and pushed it shut. He paused for a moment, holding his hand on the gold gilt knob.

 

The group stood on the front step for a while. Haji could hear them talking even through the front door. His old ears turned towards it and he frowned. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking about now. They were muffled, but he could still hear.

 

“Wow…” it was the skinny one with glasses, Ishida. “I can't believe Hisana-sama died. The way Rukia talked about her you'd think that she'd live forever.”

“But wasn't she really sick?” The big one, Chad, said, “I thought she had cancer of some kind.”

 

“She did,” the goofy one, Keigo, commented, “She went to Tokyo with her husband so she might get better.”

 

There was a gasp; Haji knew it was the girl Kuchiki-san despised. The chatter among the boys stopped and all attention seemed to be turned towards her.

 

“But Ichi!” She cried, “That means that she didn't mean it!” There was a giggle then a bubbly laugh. “She didn't kiss you because she likes you!” Another laugh. Haji could almost see her grasping Kurosaki's hand and jumping up and down. Actually, he thought he could hear her shoes tapping on the ground. “She kissed in front of everyone because she didn't know what she was doing! Don't you see?” She squealed once again and her voice started fading, Haji wondered if she was dancing around back towards the street. “This is good! She didn't kiss you because she liked you. She was just having a bad day!”

 

Her voice faded completely and Haji heard the rest of the boys leave.

 

Anger welled in the pit of his stomach once again. He could truly see why Kuchiki-san didn't like that girl very much. Sighing, he left the door and went back into the billiard room. Wondering if Kuchiki-sama would mind if he poured himself a bit of sake.

 

Honestly, he was getting too old for this.