Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ She Will Be Loved ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

She Will Be Loved

 

By Tituba

 

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

 

(A/N: Okay, I updated early because I was able to vote for the first time today! I mean, talk about an American democracy rush! It was so freaking cool! So here's your chapter one day early! Woot woot!

Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed. A huge thanks to Keirachan for creating a profile just to review and to Amy corE who's from Russia, which I think is SO COOL just because it's awesome that my fics are read all over the world!

I really adore every comment that I get. So please, to everyone, thank you. Thank you a million times, thank you!

Please tell me what you think, hugs and kisses.

 

P.S. UPDATE: I changed forties to fifties, just because the arguments you guys made were pretty convincing.)

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

“Rukia!” Aunt Retsu cried as the small girl walked through the door and into the foyer. She raised her glasses from her face and set down the medical journal that she was reading. Her supple body moved from the couch and walked over to Rukia.

 

The young woman smiled at the elderly lady before her. Still dignified as ever, her light eyes sparkled with delight. Her long, thick, dark hair was parted in a special braid that wrapped around her front and flowed elegantly down her center. She was dressed in a simple pair of gray slacks and a white shirt and sweater. She must have been in her early fifties but she was still as kindly and as beautiful as ever.

 

She stepped before Rukia and wrapped her hands inside her older, more leathery, ones. Her smile was soft and special and Rukia immediately felt warmth wash through her, like everything would be alright now that she was here.

 

“Rukia! Oh my goodness,” she pulled the girl forward and pressed her into a hug. Her sweet smell swept through Rukia, who immediately recognized lavender and a type of potpourri that gave off an absolutely wonderful scent. “What are you doing here? Not that I mind. Oh, never mind, it's so lovely to see you again. You haven't visited in so long!”

 

“It's nice to see you too, Aunt Retsu,” Rukia murmured, hugging her tighter.

 

Something must have shown in her stance, her grip, her voice, her breathing, or it might have just been Aunt Retsu's inhuman ability to simply know when something was wrong… she didn't know, but soon Aunt Retsu was holding her away. Her hands were on Rukia's shoulders. Her eyes were scrutinizing her as though Rukia was a patient and she the doctor. Which was a tad silly, Rukia thought in the base of her mind, because Aunt Retsu was, in fact, a doctor.

 

“Rukia…” she murmured softly, her eyes flickered over to the edges of the room, Rukia knew that their son, Kaien, was watching and listening to their conversation, yet still, right now, when everything was teetering on the brink of sanity or insanity, Rukia didn't care.

 

“There's something else,” Aunt Retsu said quietly, “Isn't there?”

 

Rukia could feel tears building at the base of her eyes. The pain was washing over her once again. But this time was different. This time she had a shoulder to cry on. Her mind faltered slightly and she grossly hoped that she hadn't come all the way to Hiroshima just in the hopes of burdening these kind people with her problems.

 

She heard Kaien come up behind them and stand by her, “Rukia? What is it?”

 

Rukia's bottom lip trembled and her body began to shake once again. She compelled herself to look to the ground and saw her tears slowly drop to the ground. “Hisana's dead.” She forced herself to say. Her tongue burned at the words and she bit her lip once they were out. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to drive the images of Hisana, cold and unmoving, from her mind.

 

“Oh… Rukia…” Aunt Retsu whispered, she pulled her forward and wrapped her arms around her body. Her solid comfort was what Rukia needed. It was what she had come for… to escape and to be comforted and to live for a while around those who would not judge her for just a while… just a while…

 

“Come on,” Aunt Retsu murmured softly, hugging Rukia just a bit tighter. “We'll get you some tea and then you and I can talk.”

 

“I—I don't mean t-to impose,” Rukia blubbered, her nose was already dripping. She sniffled and looked up meaningfully at her beloved Aunt, “I just… I didn't know… I mean, Byakuya he—he…” Rukia pressed her face to her hands and sobbed once again. “I didn't know where to… go…”

 

“Shh…” Kaien said, coming over and resting a hand on Rukia's shoulder. His warmth flowed through her. Rukia sobbed once again when he mind began to turn, Kaien looked so much like Ichigo, if only Ichigo were standing here, resting his hand on her shoulder, comforting her like this pseudo-family was doing right now. “It's alright. You can stay with us as long as you like, can't she mom?”

 

“Yes,” Aunt Retsu said softly, leading Rukia into the kitchen. “Yes, she can. Come dear, I'll make you tea. We can talk at the table.”

 

Rukia wiped her nose on her arm and coughed. She began breathing hard, her head was spinning and seemed to be filled with lead, her feet were sluggish and when she was offered a seat she sat without presumption.

 

As Aunt Retsu busied herself making tea and Kaien got out a few snacks, she rested her head on the table and murmured, “Where is Uncle Jushiro?”

 

“He's at work,” Aunt Retsu said, “He's taken up teaching a class at the local college.”

 

Rukia, desperate to find something else to talk about, something other than the death of her older sister, asked, “What does he teach?”

 

Her Aunt smiled and nodded, “He's teaching the `Mythologies of Death in Different Cultures and Countries.'” She looked at Rukia and her smile softened, “It's quite different from what he taught you, I'm sure, but he's well qualified. He's been talking about doing something like this for the past couple of years.”

 

She set out the cups and allowed the teabag to float in the water, its pungent taste seeping through the boiling water. Rukia closed her hot eyes softly and pressed her cool hands against them. Everything just seemed so warm right now. Her body, her mind, her surroundings… it all seemed so overheated that it was all Rukia could do not to let her tears run like sweat down her body.

 

A cup was set before her and hot tea poured in a moment later. Aunt Retsu sat beside her while Kaien occupied the seat across from her. Her body quivered softly and she raised her hands to the cup, desperate to try and quell the pain. She blew the steam away softly and drew in the sweet aroma of tea.

 

Aunt Retsu poured herself and her son a cup before sitting down at the table. Her fingers splayed against the top for a moment and she breathed in the steam as well. Her body move gracefully as she scooted in her chair. Rukia's eyes burned a bit as her faux aunt stared deeply at her. She sipped the cup to try and quell her aching heart.

 

Aunt Retsu took a sip and placed her decorative cup down on the table. Her soulful eyes looked deeply into Rukia's and she sighed. “Do you want to tell me what's happening? Or do you want to wait a bit?”

 

Rukia's fingers dug into a little dip in the top of the table. She swallowed and hated herself for not being stronger than she wanted to be. Stronger with her feelings. Stronger than her thoughts. Stronger than anything.

 

She shook her head and bit the inside of her lip. She wanted so much to tell them everything. But how could she when all she would do is just cry and cry and cry…? Her throat tightened and her eyes burned as she pressed her colder fingers against the lids.

 

“Hisana died,” she whispered, “Two weeks ago.” She scrunched her eyes together with her fingers and tried to steady her breathing. “And Byakuya didn't tell me.” She just couldn't seem to keep still. Her fingers wanted to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “He sent me a letter. I only got it yesterday. He told me that he would arrange a day for me to come up and pay my respects.” She sniffled as the tears started coming down. “After I read it… I just turned into a zombie. I did something to one of my friends that—that I regret, and after that I came home and started crying. God I cried for the entire night. And after that I got up and… and I didn't know where to go so I—I just kind of c-came he-here.” She let out a tiny sob and pressed both hands to her face. “I'm so sorry to just impose but I—I…”

 

Aunt Retsu shushed her and stood up slowly. She walked around the table and bent over until she was able to press Rukia into her arms. The young girl gladly accepted and she pressed her face against her aunt's breast. The older woman enveloped her in her arms and allowed Rukia to sob. Kaien pressed a hand to her back and rubbed awkwardly. Rukia could sense his discomfort and knew that he wasn't used to handing women crying.

 

Ichigo was just the same way.

 

That thought made the tears stream down her face with even more insistence.

 

Rukia sobbed even harder into her Aunt's tender body. Her arms fastened themselves around her waist and she poured out her heart onto Aunt Retsu's white sweater. Rukia didn't know how long she stood, clinging to her. She didn't know how long Kaien sat there, rubbing her back. She didn't know how long she stayed there, crying and crying and crying.

 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the tears began to dry, and her mouth began to choke on everything that was rising from her throat. Aunt Retsu must have motioned to Kaien, because he stood after a moment and bent to pick her up. He carried her like a bride up the stairs. She cried even harder when she realized that she wanted Ichigo to do this, to carry her, to hold her…

 

Kaien took her into the spare room in his parents' house and laid her down on the bed. She continued sobbing and he stood awkwardly as his mother entered. Aunt Retsu nodded towards him and sat beside Rukia, rubbing her back, soothing her with nonsense words, and promising that everything was going to be okay.

 

Rukia just lay on the bed. Crying with her Aunt. She was shaking badly. She couldn't help it. All she wanted to do was cry.

 

*~*~*

 

When Rukia woke up the sun was setting in the darkening sky. Aunt Retsu wasn't beside her anymore and her body was once again frail, shaking, and tired. Her head felt like jackhammers had been applied liberally to her temples. She sat up and practically heard the creaking of her body. Her dress crinkled around her knees as she swung her legs to the side of the bed. She pressed a warm hand to her hotter forehead and groaned. She hated crying… but what she hated more was that she seemed to be doing it much more often than she should.

 

Her body quaked as she attempted to stand straight. Her mind whirled with the sudden verticality of it all and she pressed a hand to the bedpost. The pattern of the wood was unfamiliar to her fingers and she gingerly ran her fingers over the carving. The delicate swirls and knobby motifs wrapped around the oak and her nails scratched it softly. This was a very nice fixture. She loved old things, elderly pieces of history that just had so much to tell. If only she could hear what they had to say.

 

Her fingers traced the smooth wood once again. How many lovers had joined on this bed? Had there been any births on it, many, many years ago? How many people had slept on this bed, night after night, whispering words of love? How many coos to small children to soothe nightmares? How many?

 

She smoothed out the sheet she had slept on and sighed. She needed to go downstairs. She needed to let everyone know she was alright.

 

Her legs wobbled as she walked down the steps. She could barely hear her footsteps as they tiptoed down. She frowned when she realized that someone must have removed her shoes when she fell asleep. She tread down the steps and curved around the side of the stairwell. Her socks pattered on the wooden floor and her ears perked up at the sound of murmured voices, soft laughter, and raspy coughs.

 

Uncle Jushiro, her mind reeled and a small smile appeared on the top of her face and she walked towards the voices. She appeared from around the corner and timidly stood on the threshold.

 

Kaien was the first to see her. She was sure that with her rumpled hair, her tired eyed, and her ruddy face she did not look as elegant as a member of the Kuchiki family should have looked.

 

The conversations stopped immediately as her presence was known in the room. Aunt Retsu turned from her side of the table and gifted Rukia with a small smile. Rukia tried not to frown at her aunt, she knew that smile; it was one of sympathy but contained traces of pity. Ichigo gave it to her all the time.

 

Kaien was also looking at her. His eyes seemed to be filled with confusion piled atop of fear. She couldn't blame him either, if she had been in his position and had watched her cry… well, Rukia would be a bit afraid of herself as well. The only person that was looking at her through fresh eyes was the man she had once loved as closely as a father.

 

Uncle Jushiro turned and she leaned the sides of her mouth up in a small smile. “Hello.” Her voice was tiny and it quaked softly.

 

He moved to stand from his chair but Rukia was faster. She knew that her uncle was not well and that he would do best to rest. She came beside him quickly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don't get up,” she said quietly, “Please.”

 

He sat back in his seat and instead. His tired eyes looked up at her and for the first time Rukia could truly see the wrinkles on his face, the lines that swam out from his eyes, the paleness of his fine face, the gently fuzziness from his five o'clock shadow. The only thing that hadn't changed were his sharp, calculating, and warm gray eyes. When he was looking at her with those eyes she felt like she was the only person in the room. His gaze was intense and she loved him for it. His face was also still framed by his lush waves of snow-white hair. She remembered how he used to let her braid his hair when she was little. She her smile widened a bit and she leaned down to hug him.

 

“Rukia,” he whispered into her shoulder. She had to bend a bit to hug him, but not much. Her smile widened even more and she sniffled. His spicy old scent was reviving her senses wonderfully.

 

“Hi Uncle Jushiro,” she murmured quietly. She sighed into his shoulder and rested her head against him for just a bit longer. It was funny how she never really realized how much she missed him until now.

 

She pulled back after a moment and glanced at the seat next to Kaien, it was unoccupied and had an empty plate on the tablecloth. It was only then that Rukia realized there was food on the table. The smells permeated her nose and she greedily drank them in. Steamed vegetables, fish, and rice. It was the type of home cooking that someone like her yearned for after a while.

 

“Sit down Rukia.” Kaien commanded cheerfully and Rukia complied, grateful to be sitting instead of standing awkwardly. She walked to his side of the table and he pulled back the chair. Her small body settled in after a moment and she looked up once again at her former tutor. He was smiling at her and looking her over as if he were a father concerned for his daughter's health.

 

She looked at him in those gray eyes of his and nearly felt like crying again. She saw nothing more than purely, unadulterated, happiness. His gaze sparkled as he saw her, sitting at his table, eating with his family. Rukia felt warmth blossom inside of her and she smiled even more. She finally felt like she was in a place where she belonged. There were no pitying whispers, there were no harsh words, and there were absolutely no judgments.

 

“It's good to see you again, Rukia.” Her uncle said softly as he reached over the table and squeezed her hand. She squeezed it back and nodded, tears of a different kind misting in her eyes.

 

Aunt Retsu began to set foot onto her plate. Rukia gladly accepted anything that was put there and drew in the scent of the wonderful food. She sighed and slowly picked up her chopsticks.

 

“Rukia,” Uncle Jushiro said softly.

 

Rukia's stomach dropped further inside of her body and she wondered what he was going to say next. Was it going to be something pitying, something about how wonderful her sister had been, how it was so sad that she had passed away and that the next few months without her would be hard to bear? Rukia didn't want to hear anything along those lines. She wanted the grief to be gone. She wanted—

 

“I hear your brother is letting you go to the United States for your graduation present this year.”

 

Rukia's chopsticks loosened in her fingers ever so slightly and her mouth dropped just a bit. Her uncle just smiled at her and ate a piece of his fish.

 

Rukia tightened her grip on her utensils and began to eat, her appetite suddenly returning, “Yes, he's finally agreed to let me go to New York City. I'm going to go see the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Statue of Liberty, Broadway, Ellis Island, and so many other things…”

 

“I bet that'll be fascinating,” Kaien said cordially.

 

“I've always wanted to go to the United States,” Aunt Retsu said dreamily. She ate a bit more of her food and placed a hand on her husband's forearm. “We should go there when we retire.”

 

Uncle Jushiro responded kindly and soon the conversation at the table was flowing freely. Rukia loved the things they spoke of, numerous topics ranging from vacation trips to hilarious stories about a young Kaien when the family went on holiday. The words just seemed to pour from everyone's mouth as they continued talking. It was soothing to hear. Just talk. Nothing irregular. Nothing painful. Nothing to remind her of Karakura. Nothing to remind her of who she left in Karakura.

 

Just talking.

 

Rukia fell comfortably into the conversation. Her voice melded with the rest of the sounds in the room—the clinking of chopsticks, the shifting of chairs, the cars running past outside… everything.