Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ The Father-Daughter Dance ❯ The Father-Daughter Dance ( Chapter 1 )

The Father-Daughter Dance

By Eilan-san

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If she tried hard enough, she was able to ignore Isshin's insane antics in the morning, what with the barging into Ichigo's room and the attempted physical beatdown by Ichigo on his father that would inevitably ensue.

She would listen quietly from Karin and Yuzu's room as she dressed in the morning for when Ichigo told his father he was an idiot and march downstairs with an air of authority uncommon in most children his age.

Her brother would have been embarrassed beyond belief to see her now, in this place, with these people. He might have liked the routine, but she doubted it. Chaos conflicted with Byakuya's nature, and even though it was consistent chaos, it was still chaos.

At least, that was what she'd thought.

It was definitively not chaos. Or, more importantly, it was a tightly controlled atmosphere of chaos.

It was merely the appearance of chaos, and everyone in that family, even Rukia herself, had been fooled into thinking it was the real thing.

He was that good.

She would eye him amusedly from the breakfast table as he complained, yet again, to Masaki's memorial portrait that his daughters didn't love him anymore. Yuzu would attempt to diffuse the situation and Karin and Ichigo would simply look on with matching annoyed faces, utterly convinced of their father's stupidity and incompetence.

Before, Rukia would sit quietly, hiding her contempt behind a fake smile and polite tonal inflection. She was no better than Ichigo, really. But now… now she was unable to do anything but watch in awe as Kurosaki Isshin danced circles around his children, lest they discover that their father was infinitely more capable than any of them knew.

It was precise and perfectly choreographed. Watching it could take her breath away with its apparent ease and simplicity and now she too took part in this secret familial waltz. He had asked only that of her, and she had agreed that it was the least she could do in return for all that he had done for her. It was not altogether that different from what she was used to as a member of the Kuchiki clan. The steps were different, and the intentions different, but it was a dance all the same.

It was their secret, this dance, adapted slightly so she could participate, in the wee hours of a late December morning. She knew that the original choreography involved his wife as a partner, but he had assured her that a daughter would do just as well.

Initially, she had been unsure of this. How could this man, so seemingly insane, really be what he was? Kurosaki Isshin, a shinigami captain? But the pieces fell swiftly together, and by now it was the only thing that made sense, the only reason why Ichigo was Ichigo.

It was also the only reason she could fathom why, for the briefest of moments, she allowed herself to entertain the notion that she and Ichigo could work.

It was never spoken about, but she knew that, unlike her, he didn't really need a reason; he never needed that example in front of him of how it could work. He just knew that it could. It was in every gesture, every flicker of his eyes when he looked at her, lying just underneath the surface. And she knew that she followed every one of his movements with her own, even if she didn't want to.

She and Ichigo had their own secret dance.

Isshin knew about that too. He'd smilingly mentioned once that his son's resemblance to the former vice-captain of the thirteenth squad hadn't escaped him. At the time, she'd simply gritted her teeth and promised herself to harm Urahara the next time she saw him, but now, she was almost glad that he knew.

He understood her weakness, her apprehension about all things concerning Ichigo, but also understood their deep connection, even though he never voiced it except through teasing.

That, too, was one of their secrets. It, too, was part of this dance.

He'd called it the “Father-Daughter Dance” once. She hadn't really understood at the time, but in the months that she'd been a part of this family she realized that she'd be proud to have him as her father. Ichigo was lucky to have him, even if he didn't understand why.

It was because of Isshin that he had his powers, it was because of his mother's heart that allowed him to be as powerful as he was, and it was because of both of them together, and the life they chose to live, that he had come into Rukia's life.

And it was because of them that Rukia was beginning to allow herself to love Ichigo, allowed herself to enjoy dancing with him.

“Rukia-chan,” Isshin crooned over the breakfast table, “Surely, you would not begrudge an old man grandchildren, would you?” He pouted, pretend-innocent. “You and Ichigo must begin immediately, lest I be too old to enjoy them!”

Turn and dip and…

Ichigo's foot met with Isshin's jaw and the elder Kurosaki was on the floor again bemoaning his lack of grandchildren and an ungrateful son.

Slide and cut in.

Someday the song would be over, and the dancing would end. But not today.

Rukia smiled. Perfect execution, Ichigo.