Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ She Will Be Loved ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )

She Will Be Loved

 

By Tituba

 

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

 

(A/N: Wow, I have so many reviews! It's just so fantastic! I love that people are enjoying this story. I also wanted to clarify that I wasn't mad at anyone for expressing their feelings in their review. Just the characters are twisted to fit the story so that's why they're a bit different. I'd never be mad at my lovely reviewers!

I also wanted to send a comment to Fried Deer… you have a very interesting screen name :D

P.S. My evil sister is coming home from college today, wish me luck!

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

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

A person with a brightly lit head of hair was sitting on one of the benches in the platform. His shoulders were hunched and his clothes were rumpled, and a creased jean jacket was thrown hurriedly over a well-worn school uniform. His eyes were watching the crowd of people, as if looking for someone in particular; Rukia felt her heart squeezing in her chest and vainly tried to hurry out of the platform. She couldn't, however, take her eyes off of him; she knew he was looking for her. She just didn't want him to find her.

 

He looked in her direction and his eyes immediately locked with hers. She was instantly frozen to the ground, her arms were shaking and her feet didn't want to move.

 

Ichigo got up from the bench and slowly began to walk towards her. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and his head was bent down a bit, as if he didn't want to seem taller than everyone around him. He still stood out. His handsome, grim, face and fiery hair could be located even if he were in the middle of a thousand bustling people.

 

Rukia swallowed hard when he came within ten feet of her. Her brain was screaming at her to run, to get away, to not start this again… but none of the signals were going down to her brain. She couldn't seem to do anything right now but wait.

 

He stood in front of her, his hands still in is pockets, his eyes averted from hers. Her fingers tightened around her tote bag and she looked down at her shoes. The silence seemed to be unbearable to both of them. Ichigo lifted his arm and let his hand scratch the back of his neck. Rukia coughed lightly and shuffled her feet. Anyone who looked at the two of them would have thought they were nervous lovers, finally seeing one another again after a long stay apart, not exactly sure what to do.

 

“How was your trip?” He asked softly, his voice scratchy, as if it hadn't been used for ages.

 

“Fine,” Rukia whispered softly, still staring at her shoes.

 

Silence.

 

“You went to Hiroshima, right?” He murmured, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

 

“Yes, to m-my, um, Uncle Jushiro's house.” She said.

 

He shifted his feet again and swallowed heavily. Her eyes were glued to the floor but she would occasionally look up, try to catch just a glimpse of him without him reciprocating it. But each time she looked up he looked down. Their eyes would meet for a fraction of a second before they would look away. She didn't know if it was embarrassment or anxiety or fear… she just couldn't look him in the eye—she used to be able to, even back when he would come for her in the night, but just not now.

 

A swooping sensation of horror took hold in the pit of her stomach. What if he came to pick her up because he `needed her'? Would he do that? After everything that happened would he actually do that? Her fingers tightened even more on the handles of her tote. If he did… she'd say no. She couldn't. She told herself she wouldn't.

 

She just hoped that he hadn't sunken that low.

 

His hand reached out and her skin prickled as he came towards her. Just his hand. The fingers were closed tightly but it was still coming towards her. She swallowed heavily and for a fleeting second thought that he would allow his hand to touch her potent skin, slide up her shivering arms, and then cup the back of her neck. Perhaps he would bend down to her height and kiss her soft lips. Would he do that? After she… and he…?

 

His fingers rested right below hers on the strap to her bag. Rukia's heart fell down further into her chest.

 

“I'll carry it for you.” He murmured softly, tugging it from her shoulder.

 

She let it fall off slowly. Her hand was still grasping the edges as he pulled it towards him. Her knuckles brushed against his worn jacket and she felt a tingle shoot up the ends of her arm. Her fingers released it immediately. Part of her wondered if he felt that electricity too.

 

He began to walk towards the exit of the platform and Rukia followed slowly. Her steps echoed with his and they slowly edged out into the bright, sunlit, day. People continued to mill around the doors. Rukia could hear them speaking loudly, laughing at funny jokes, hugging friends, and simply enjoying being in the company of others. Not so with the two of them. They were silent. They were not looking at each other. He was carrying her bag and she was nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

 

The silence was almost unbearable. They were walking along the streets, Rukia didn't exactly know where they were going, she simply followed him.

 

Rukia twitched her fingers and smoothed them over her dress.

 

“Ichigo,” she murmured, she couldn't take the silence, it was killing her more than his presence. He slowed fractionally when she said his name but didn't turn around completely. His head was inclined towards her and few tendrils of orange hair fell over his ear, the ear she knew he was using to listen to her. “Why are you here?” Her voice faded out as her sentence expired. She swallowed once again and smoothed her dress with her sweating palms. She wished Ichigo hadn't taken her bag from her; her hands needed to fiddle with something.

 

Ichigo's brisk pace slowed even more until he was stopped. His body was rigid in the early fall breeze. His hair was ruffled lightly and a couple of leaves fell from nearby trees. Rukia watched as they dashed across his strong outline and then fluttered into the streets. The ten o'clock sun was shining down on him from an angle, the silhouettes of his hair were hiding his burning, amber eyes, his angular nose cast a deep shadow over his strong lips, and his body allowed a pool of deep blackness to gather around his feet. Her chest tightened at how beautiful he looked. Everything about him was dangerous and lovely and unattainable. She could barely breathe now that he was turned towards her, she couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not, but she knew that he was here, here with her, and it was precious enough.

 

His head shifted to the side and he glanced at the ground. His free hand rose to the back of his neck and he scratched it lightly. It was what he always did when he was nervous, but she didn't mind, it was a habit of his.

 

He cleared his throat, “I… I'm not exactly sure, really.”

 

Rukia expected her heart to fall; it did a little bit, but not too much. She told herself that she needed to be stronger when it came to him, she was going to do it, she was going to make sure that she insulated herself against him. She would succeed. But she would still love him. She would always love him. With every inch of her heart she would love him forever.

 

“I guess… I just needed to see you.” He rubbed his head again and Rukia wished at once that she could be running her fingers through his feathery locks. “I mean, you left and… that day before, when I tried to… I'm sorry Rukia; I didn't know it was Hisana. It's just… you left and I was, well, worried, and—and, you kissed me and…” He swallowed and looked away. “And it's all I've been able to think about since.”

 

He took her bag in his hand, turned sharply on his heel, and roughly began to stride away.

 

Rukia was left, speechless, staring into the empty space that had been Ichigo only seconds before. Her mind was frozen, numb, but not with the emotion she had been expecting, not with shock or surprise, but something she hadn't felt in such a long time when it came to Ichigo…

 

Hope.

 

He had been thinking about it. He had been worried about her. He had missed her. He hadn't wanted her body or the comfort she afforded him on those nights. He was worried about her, her wellbeing, and her safety. He was not worried where his next nightly session was going to come from.

 

Her mind was still plagued with doubts, horrid ones at that. Yes, he was still technically with Orihime, yes, he said that he wouldn't have whispered anything about needing her if he had known about Hisana, which meant that he would have still needed her if it had been any other day, and yes, nothing about their friendship had been repaired. But there was hope. A tiny glimmer. Nothing more than a simple fragment. It barely existed. It was a sliver resting on the tip of a needle.

 

But it was there.

 

A small, rare, smile appeared on Rukia's face. She felt blood surge into her legs and she hurried after him. She had hope. It was what she needed. She caught up to him but did not keep pace with him entirely. She strayed behind just a bit. Enough so that she might be able to look at him and watch him as his strong body move in the glimmering sun.

 

It was a long trek back to her house; she and Ichigo didn't speak for the rest of the time they were together. She saw his tense stature as he moved, he had slung her bag over his shoulder and it bumped against his back as he walked. She watched his strong legs as he moved, so lanky and lean. His hips swerved only slightly and the arm holding her bag bunched tightly. His form was nervous, jittery, and stressed… yet she was calm. There was no happiness in her stance, no joy, but she was level. Her glimmer of hope had not allowed her to think of `what ifs' and `could be's,' instead, it just permitted her the ability to keep her mind and heart from hurting.

 

They continued on for the better part of an hour. She stared at him until the streets and shops around them became more familiar, it was then that her eyes began to wander. She could see the place where she and he used to buy sweets whenever Haji gave them money, the place where Ichigo bought her special Chappy doll for her ninth birthday, and the place where they bought their favorite books—Ichigo liked Shakespeare, Rukia liked comics.

 

They soon reached the street her house was on. Her feet caught up with his and they walked side by side. Each one seemed to have different thoughts running through their minds. When they reached the gate, Rukia opened it by punching in a key combination, Ichigo could have done it as well, he knew the combination by heart. He never used it when he came though, he would always climb over the wall separating her lawn from the street. He continued on through the gate and walked her up towards the front steps.

 

Rukia knew that somewhere in the house Haji was watching from one of the windows. She stepped in front of the door and then slowly turned towards Ichigo. He was still holding her bag. It was grasped tightly in his right hand, the left was stuffed into his pocket, he was staring at the ground.

 

She cleared her throat. She felt like she was one some sort of a first date, standing at the front steps, waiting to see if her date would kiss her or not, wondering if her father was looking down from a window…

 

“Did you want it?”

 

His question was barely a whisper but she heard it nonetheless.

 

Her eyes snapped up to his and she frowned. “Want… what?”

 

He looked up at her and then back towards the ground, he couldn't seem to handle the intensity of her stare, he dug his sneaker encased foot into the ground and cleared his throat again. “H-His… kiss.”

 

Her eyes widened and her heart leapt into her throat. Her stomach tightened and she felt like she couldn't breathe. “H-How did… you…?”

 

But then she understood. The flashes of orange she had seen in her dream. It was him. It was Ichigo. He had gone to Hiroshima. He had seen her with Kaien. He had seen the kiss.

 

Her mind reeled. He had gone to Hiroshima. He had gone to Hiroshima.

 

She had kissed Kaien on Tuesday, she had found out the truth about him on Wednesday, he left of Thursday, and she had gone home on Saturday. All that time she was gone, yet Ichigo had gone to see her. He had to have come on Tuesday, or the day before, or even before then. How long had he been there? Had he seen her before? Did he stay in the shadows just to catch glimpses of her?

 

He had seen the kiss. His tone… it was laced with sadness and guilt, but there was also something else… something she had never heard before.

 

Jealousy.

 

It was barely there, hardly recognizable under the layers of melancholy and shame, but it was there. She could practically taste it on the tip of her tongue. He was jealous that she had kissed another man. And now, he wanted to know if she had desired that kiss. He wanted to know if she favored the affections of another. He wanted to know… he needed to know whether or not she had moved on.

 

It was selfish of him to want to know such a thing. He had used her. He had taken her affections for granted. He had never given her anything in return. Her mind kept spinning with the reasons why she shouldn't allow him the comfort and passion her love would afford him. He didn't deserve her. He hadn't wanted her. He had thrown her away. All of these causes added in her mind and she couldn't ignore them.

 

Yet she also couldn't ignore the feelings she had for him. She couldn't ignore the fact that she had grown up with him and had loved him even then. She couldn't ignore how her heart spun whenever he entered the room or the way her mind buzzed whenever he looked at her. She simply couldn't ignore it. She loved him. That was how it would always be. It was her destiny.

 

The silence brought her back to reality. His question still hung in the air, terse and unanswered.

 

Had she wanted it? Her mind couldn't formulate the answer. Maybe deep down, she wanted to think that she really was kissing Ichigo. She had felt like she was kissing his double, Kaien looked so much like him, maybe in her mind she truly wanted to be kissing Ichigo. Was that the only reason she returned the kiss? Her mind heated with the thoughts. Kaien, no… she didn't want to kiss him. Ichigo… Ichigo was another story entirely.

 

She wanted to kiss Ichigo so deeply that his taste would never be rid of her mouth. She had already kissed him once, gotten a taste of his hot and spicy flavor filled with exotic zest. She wondered if he felt the same. Her insides shivered when she thought of that kiss now. She hadn't been able to appreciate it in the grief she had been experiencing when she had done it, but now, an entire week afterwards, she could still feel his lips tingling on hers, feel his tongue rubbing sensually against hers—he had reciprocated her kiss, even if he hadn't intended to. His lips had been soft and warm even though she had been so cold. Kaien's kiss hadn't been like that. She had felt no electricity when he pressed his mouth to hers. She didn't get a butterfly sensation in her stomach whenever she replayed it in her mind—there was only frustration and dirtiness. His lips had been colder, somehow, less heated and even slick. It was not warm and inviting… simply chilled and glossy.

 

She knew he was watching her. She cleared her throat and raised her head. Her eyes looked straight into his. She saw the desire for knowledge burning deep inside of his gorgeous tawny irises. For a brief, fleeting moment, she wondered if Orihime loved his eyes the way she loved them, if his girlfriend noticed that delicate ring of honeyed gold that surrounded the pupil, or the tiny sliver on the outside of all that abundant amber. She wanted to pull his face towards her and press kisses to both of his eyelids.

 

“No,” she whispered quietly, “I didn't.”

 

A small rush of breath came from his lungs and he looked away. He was relieved.

 

“I think… I only did it…” she continued, her voice was so quiet, but she knew that he heard every word. She looked up into his face and stared at his eyes, even though he was not looking at her she knew that he could feel the power of her gaze. “Because I wanted him to be someone else.”

 

Ichigo's eyes widened and his mouth opened just a bit. She could feel her cheeks heating as his breathing hardened and his blazing stare flickered from her eyes down to the soft line of her lips and then back up, again and again.

 

Rukia saw him leaning forward by infinitesimal amounts, she knew that if she stood here much longer his mouth would connect with hers, and then they would kiss.

 

But she had had enough of that. She didn't want to kiss someone who already had a girlfriend. She was also tired of trying to kiss anyone who still had a girlfriend.

 

So instead of touching her mouth to his—something that she had wanted to do for so, so long—she reached towards his hand and pulled on the handles of her tote. His fingers released it immediately and she smiled at him softly as she accepted the weight. He seemed to be in some type of daze, like he was wondering what was happening to his mind and his body. Was he really pulling forwards? Was he really trying to kiss her? He had never done so before… why now?

 

She smiled at his expression and shook her head. “I'm sorry Ichigo. You have no idea… how badly… but I just…” she looked up at him with her soulful eyes and smiled sadly. “I can't have half of you. I just can't. It will end up killing me.”

 

His gaze widened and he swallowed, he looked away, his head hung in shame.

 

She lowered her eyes as well and sighed. Her hand tightened on her bag and she opened the door to her home. Haji was inside waiting for her. Ichigo's eyes followed her as she disappeared through the door. She shut it softly with a click.

 

She didn't know how long he stayed on her front steps, staring at the door she closed. She had never closed a door on him before. Yet something told her that that door, the one she had just closed, the one that separated him from her, would be the one thing that would keep him awake tonight.