Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Stray No More ❯ Story ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach; the characters belong to Tite Kubo and are licensed by Shonen Jump. This is a work of fan fiction that means no harm to the anime or manga.

He frowned profusely as he marched down the familiar passageways that resembled an intelligence maze, all but with the electrified floors. Not that it would stop the Vice Captain from reacting more than with a subtle flinch.

Soft silk of his kimono sleeves fluttered behind his arms like banners. The fuchsia flowers decorating the white fabric contrasted against the sturdy bandages wrapped around his tattooed torso. Usually the markings were only visible to those privileged enough to see him topless only wearing hakima. Some would accuse him of strutting like a cockerel with his newfound status, reflecting the icy cool demeanor of Captain Byakuya Kuchiki. Renji Abarai was filled with the pride of his accomplishments, a pride only marred by the seriousness of recent circumstances.

Still he greeted his comrades and underlings with a grunted `good morning'. He had not slept well and hated being called into work on what should have been a day off. Most who knew any better stayed clear of the flame haired warrior. It was a bad habit to spin the keychain carelessly around one finger but he did not give a damn at this point. All that he was worried about was on the other side of the massive door he now stood before. Underfoot the polished wooden floor yielded to a different texture that cooled the souls of his feet perceptibly.

Perhaps as perceptibly as the silence of the prisoner within. Stoic as her brother she faced away from the bars. A few words between him and the guard confirmed what he had expected. Renji guessed it was an act, for he suspected that it took much effort for her to ignore his voice. Alternatively, was he merely wasting his time? For the first few minutes, he challenged her and only resulted in her provoking him with old buttons pushed. She knew him too well, Renji cursed to himself.

“Dammit, she can still get under my skin,” he thought to himself. No matter how much time passed she still saw him in some ways as a kid she ran the streets with and scraped a living out of close to nothing. The scum of the soul society and lowest of the low where everything was shared by those with fierce loyalty. He was still a cur beneath the fine silk as she was, yet she had been given a pedigree. What did she do with it?

Smear it. Dirty it and sully it. Bringing disgrace to the Kuchiki name. Still she emulated her brother's façade well, but Renji wondered why he insisted on prodding her verbally so when she insulted his recent promotion, his attitude, and his eyebrows.

Rukia could picture him as if she had eyes in the back of her head. She shivered internally with fresh images of her childhood friend the night of her recapture. Ever since entering the academy she had seen the progression of his tattoos. For each new deed, a new mark was added. Until he was barely recognizable as her childhood friend. She barely knew him anymore as he stared down at her feral that night he had attacked Ichigo. Bright crimson spikes against the dark night sky. Moonlight gleamed off those damned expensive sunglasses obscuring the markings on his forehead.

Now he had to be content with a cloth wrapped around his brow instead. Strange how he always covered up those dark marks. All Soul reapers had their expressions of individuality despite their standard black robes. Her brother was privileged with the silver hair ornaments only a noble could sport. Others wore helmets or hair accessories. She had kept her own look simple and businesslike.

Am I but a stray dog to a high-class bitch like her? Renji fumed.  No privileges were good enough for her. How could she throw it all away on some…? HUMAN?

The bitter verbal pot shots were exchanged and Renji all but cursed her to her fate. Yet something turned him back around to grip the bars when she said his name.

“Am I going to die?”

“Of course!” he answered. Nevertheless, seeing the calm stoic acceptance on her face tugged deep in his chest.

Violet eyes regarded him from that fall of silky smooth hair, penetrating his series of marks and laying them bare. He saw the look he had long missed, the vulnerability of a fellow orphan plaintively blinking at him. Then it vanished behind sadness.

“I was only joking!” he found himself babbling. He was rewarded with softness in the eyes he could not divert his gaze from. Long fingers wrapped around the bars, squeezing them tightly as if Renji himself was locked in the cell and she was free.

“Were you?” Rukia asked, gracing him with more of that softness. It penetrated his core.

“Well…” he trailed off, unable to know quite what to say.

“I had you going there, didn't I?” she then answered, with a mischievous gleam.

Muscles in his face twitched along with a growl in his throat. “FINE! See it as a joke! See how much you'll be laughing when you're torn to the four winds!”

“And you'll be watching right next to Nii-sama, as a good vice captain should,” Rukia retorted.

“You act like it's a damn joke. Like I'm a damn joke,” Renji dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Would you get your head out of your ass and see what's happening?”

“I know all too well what's happening,” she answered, rising off the chair to stare him directly in the eye. Like amber, they gleamed, feral and defiant, daring her to spar as always. Trying to rile her up and perhaps draw her away from despair?

“I'm sure even NOW your brother is pleading your case…”

“Renji, he'd kill me himself,” she answered.

The words slammed into Renji, knocking his spirit backwards and stunning any response. Rukia saw the dark brows lift as his eyes widened with shock. Good, so he does give a damn, part of her thought. For whatever consolation that offered. Now he gave her that unguarded look she had given him. All he could do was stammer, “But surely your own brother…”

“Never once has he looked at me, Renji. In all the time I came to live with him,” Rukia explained. Her voice wavered slightly, betraying an undertone of sadness.

“I… I see,” Renji answered, at a loss for words yet again. Poking his chin through the bars, he leaned as close as he could. Silence predominated now. Frantically Renji plunged through racing thoughts, trying to find something… anything to say. Making her angry had only worked so much. Now he faced cold dread. Just what had he failed to notice in all this time? He served his Captain with only a few questions, leaving most of them unasked for fear of the icy reprimand. Byakuya did not suffer fools gladly.

Rukia closed the gap, striding within inches of him. She rested her hands on the bars lower down, not gripping them as he did. She whispered something that prompted Renji to bend down so he was almost at eye level with her. Locking gazes Rukia repeated, “It's your turn to get your head out of your ass, Renji.”

“What was that?”

“I know you all too well. Don't think that just because I've grown up as a noble that makes me know you any less than you do me,” Rukia whispered fiercely.

The hissing of her whisper puffed warmly into his face. He immediately answered, “You are the idiot for throwing it all away on a lowly human…”

“Don't give me that Renji. I never asked to be someone's fucking role model,” she continued. “Never able to make a mistake. Well I have, and I'm paying for it. Does it make you happy?”

“How dare you ask me that, you ungrateful…” Renji snapped, and then silenced his outburst. Now his amber eyes were hard and cold. Leaning closer he whispered, “All right, you're cutting the bullshit. I'll deal. Since you're throwing your status away anyway, it obviously doesn't matter what I say.”

“I'm not interested in whatever it is you have to say anyhow,” Rukia challenged.

“Is that so?” Renji asked a small whine in his voice. It startled them both because it sounded so familiar. Blasted feelings that he had long suppressed, that every soul reaper possessed were now getting the better of him. Soul reapers had feelings, but there were those that were more burdensome than others were. Anger and frustration could be shunted into battle readiness. Sorrow and regret were those useless and most prudent to lock away.

No one would see now. Renji's left hand released the bar he clutched and passed through the gap between them. He caught hold of her chin, cursing his impulsiveness. Yet she was a prisoner and she had relinquished her rank and accepted her punishment. Her skin trembled against his fingers and he felt the hardness crumble.

“Damn it,” Renji whispered.

“Let go,” Rukia warned. Renji swept out his other hand, grabbing her shoulder and tugging her slim body so it almost collided with the bars.

“You're but a prisoner,” Renji murmured, glancing disdainfully down at her. However, his eyes betrayed a softness that saddened Rukia. For all his claims and accusations that she had a human expression, the one in his eyes at that instant was almost like the baleful gaze of Ichigo. All too soon, it passed and her lips were level with his.

“What are you doing, idiot?” Rukia huffed.

“I know you too well, Rukia. Acting the noble still though you claim yourself no better than I do? What a load of crap you're giving me. Which are you? A stray like me or a pedigree?” Renji asked.

“Does it matter? I'll be dead in 25 days,” Rukia answered, blinking up at him.

“Yeah, I guess that's the case,” Renji grumbled. “Damn it. You just had to be stupid. Just had to get caught up in that human world. How could you?”

“Don't play big brother with me, Renji Abarai! Looking down your nose at me because I'm not living up to my oh so exalted position,” Rukia snapped, jerking her chin. However, Renji's grasp tightened, and she felt the hot exhalation puffing against her cheeks.

“Rukia, you think I enjoy seeing you about to die? You think I want to see the last of my friends in a grave? Damn you,” Renji shook his head, growling.

“Just leave me be,” Rukia snapped, grabbing the front of his floral kimono and tugging on it. Renji smirked, feeling the anger in her rise and the gleam in her violet gaze. Always as children, they would forget adversity in rivalry.

“I can't, Rukia,” Renji answered, his nose brushing against hers. “If you value your life so little? I value it far more… but I can do nothing…”

“Then you don't wish me to die?” she answered, with a slight smirk.

“Not before I. But what good is that now?” Renji asked. “Unless…”

“Unless what? My brother pleads for my life. You are a fool,” Rukia clicked her tongue.

“Says the one behind bars…” he trailed off, breath pulsing and panting. Her pale flesh twitched and he relinquished the grip on her chin. Rukia could not suppress the shiver as his fingers brushed her cheek, then caressed it with the lightness of a feather or a butterfly's flutter. Again, he repeated it, sliding his hand around to fully cup her face. Still his other hand clutched her slender shoulder in its firm grip.

“You should leave,” Rukia whispered.

“Do you really want that?” Renji murmured, further poking his face through the bars. His nose brushed her cheek while he tugged her towards him. Rukia twisted the cloth of his robe and yanked him forward. Awkwardly his lips collided with hers, and the shock caused her to part hers. For two seconds they lingered, their mouths ghosting against one another. Not fully pressing but merely tasting the briefest soft touch of skin-to-skin.

Transferring his left hand from her shoulder to her neck, he angled her head to the side. Her lips opened wider, allowing him access as her hot breath surged across his palate. Hungrily he claimed her mouth that she offered so freely and surprisingly. Releasing his kimono, she danced her fingertips over the dark marks on his throat, and then progressed over his scarlet sideburns. Then her hands clasped behind his neck and his mouth yielded to hers. Tasting and smelling something like brassy bronze and heat, while he tasted what was like melted snow from the highest mountain. Fire and ice collided, their tongues brushing past one another.

For that one moment, they had forgotten one another's roles. Sharing the torrid breaths, they hungrily fastened their mouths and drank deeply. Through the kiss, she felt a steady strength reaching out and sweeping over her. Saying all the things, he wanted to but did not dare with each massaging stroke of his fingers tunneling through her silky midnight hair. Cold metal bars pressed against Renji's chest and her breast as they locked together in an embrace that was limited but no less passionate.

He inhaled her scent, taking in all the softness and feel of her hair on his rough fingers. Memorizing her taste and the pulse of her breath, they shared, and the way her tongue danced against his and how she fought to dominate the kiss. All too soon, they parted, when the cold bar brushed his cheek and the reality of their situation impinged once more. Rukia's dark lashed eyes were only half-open as was his, and they still gripped one another's kimonos and the backs of their respective necks. She rested her forehead against his cloth-covered one, catching her breath. Renji felt his blood pulsing and his heart pounding like it did in the heat of battle. Why had he never kissed her before now? When he could do nothing but watch her waiting to die? If only she would at least show some anger or remorse. However, she denied him even that.

“Curse you, Rukia, how can you do this?” he found himself panting.

“I should ask how you can wait till now… to ask me that,” Rukia answered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I don't know, curse it,” Renji murmured, before pressing a small rain of kisses on her cheeks and then pressing a last one to her forehead.

“I didn't throw anything away. Not for a mere human, Renji,” said Rukia gently, caressing his cheeks. She gave him a brave smile that twisted his stomach with grief. How dare such emotions burden them both?

“I should curse him for what feelings and expressions that damn boy's burdened you with,” Renji panted.

“You fought him yourself, Renji. You think I threw my power away?” Rukia asked.

“He was an amateur, a hopelessly outclassed fool, Rukia,” Renji sighed.

“So you say,” Rukia disagreed. She allowed him to grip her hands tightly and thread their fingers together.

“Idiot,” Renji murmured. Rukia sadly nodded. Moreover, the two of them lowered their facades for another precious few moments, knowing her days were numbered. Until they flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Nii sama,” whispered Rukia. Quickly they pushed one another away, as if their touch was poison. Renji snapped to his feet, and Rukia quickly retreated to her chair. Once more she sat down, her back facing the prison bars while Renji turned away and pressed his back to them.