Deliverance, a bleach fanfic

Deliverance

Word Count: 6,545

Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Author's Note: Edited as of 13/08/09. It was a little bare in parts so I hope it's improved now. It's so removed from what I usually write that I figured it needed to be its own story instead as of part of a collection. I'm very interested to know what you think, so if you read it, please review and leave your thoughts. If you find any spelling/grammar/present tense mistakes, please tell me.

Dum spiro spero.

While I breathe, I hope.

For late autumn, it isn't particularly cold. Ichigo is still toying with the idea of dragging his electric blanket from its hiding place in the linen cupboard, but that would mean he'd have to find the thing first, and the idea of rummaging through piles of sheets and clothes and who knows what doesn't particularly appeal to him. Outisde, a dismal layer of fog is threatening to block out the fat wedge of moon nestled happily among the stars, and the cherry trees, their slender stems just beginning to succumb to frost, cling to the last of their leaves with a fierce protectiveness that Ichigo is not at all unappreciative of.

Moonlight breaks through the window, and Rukia is still sleeping. Curled onto her side, one fist clenched around his sheet and the other tangled loosely in the ends of her hair, she makes so little movement that he wonders if she's breathing at all.

A quick check reassures him she is.

He sits astride his chair, arms folded across the backrest and his chin resting heavily on his forearms. The graceless quiet is deafening to him, and he has a sudden urge to wake her, if only to make up a flimsy excuse and apologise and have her scold him for it. He fights down the inclination to do so, knowing she needs all the healing she can get right now.

Abruptly he jerks forward and tugs the blanket up around her shoulders. She shifts then, the first time that night, and it slips to settle back around her hips. He gives up and instead traces his finger along the white gauze that runs from her earlobe to her sternum. Her skin is cold, and he makes a mental note to close the curtains and get an extra blanket. His hand rests there for a moment, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his palm, before decency gets the better of him and he stuffs his hands into his pockets and lowers his head again.

In a second his world is quiet once more. He counts the slow passage of time by the beat of his heart, the blood pounding in his ears and the slow, constant pulse of familiar reiatsu that he is drawn to focus on.

Nothing moves, nothing makes a sound, but Rukia is still breathing.

Thank God for that.

As one: are not intertwined

Ichigo feels the hollow a full 30 seconds before Rukia comes into his room to tell him. He swallows Kon's pill and tells her he can handle it alone, and is mildly surprised when she doesn't put up much of an argument, murmuring for him to be careful before moving to the window to watch him leave. She's swiftly shoved from his thoughts when a spike of reiatsu flares from the ground below. It's a large hollow, big enough to put a fist through the third storey of his high school, but not too large to take more than a minute to be dispatched. It's not until his feet touch the ground again and he's wiping the blood from his cheek that he senses the presence of someone else.

"Ah, Kurosaki..." Ishida pushes himself off the concrete wall, brushing plaster dust from his hair, and moves quickly across the courtyard. "Typical of you to be here." He stops a few feet from him. "How is Kuchiki-san?"

"Ishida. Shouldn't you be in bed?" Ichigo shrugs slowly and drags his feet to face him. "She's fine."

The Quincy's eyebrows knit together and he purses his lips but says nothing. A light wind that he hadn't felt before lifts his dark hair from his face, giving Ichigo a glimpse at steely blue eyes boring into him. For a long while they stand motionless, each waiting for the other to speak.

Ichigo sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"The same thing you're doing. To an extent."

An answer forms on Ichigo's lips but dies away. A quick-witted remark or an offhandish scowl couldn't go wrong here. On the other hand, Ishida's silence is beginning to make him uncomfortable. He says nothing and, with some difficulty, attemps to conjure up what he hopes is a patient expression on his face, hoping Ishida will realise it as a tactful invitation to voice his thoughts.

He doesn't.

Screw tact."Oi, you nerd. Is there something you want to say?"

Still silent, Ishida scrutinises him for a moment more. He turns on his heel and walks to the gate. "Take care of her," he throws over his shoulder, before disappearing into the half-light of dusk. Surprised, Ichigo turns and follows him with his eyes. "Bye," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. He surveys the mess he's made of the school yard. Oh well. Nothing he could do about that. He leaps up onto a rooftop to begin the journey home. The Quincy's words run muddled through his mind as the first drops of evening rain begin to fall. Take care of her? Wasn't that what he had been doing?

By the time he reaches home the sun is almost gone and the rain is falling softly, leaving drops of mist on the ends of his hair. The crisp, cold air stings as he breathes it in and considers his entry options. He can feel Rukia's reiatsu moving around downstairs and then coming to a halt in the living room. His father's booming voice reaches his ears, even outside, as he corners the poor girl and asks her a highly embarassing question regarding Ichigo's performance in certain manly pursuits. Rukia's innocent but enthusiastic response - including a "go for it, Ichigo-kun!" - does little to hide her horror as her reiatsu flutters in his direction.

Best to use the window.

Kon is pacing around his room when he enters. "Hey -" His words are cut off as Ichigo immediately returns to his body. About to fish his plushie out from under his bed, he reconsiders and tosses the pill onto his desk beside a daunting pile of unfinished assignments. Grabbing a jacket from his now-full closet, he heads downstairs and out the front door, passing off Yuzu's offer of dinner with a wave of his hand.

The absence of moonlight makes it difficult to see the inscription on his mother's tombstone, but he runs his fingers along the grooves and speaks her name aloud. It is peaceful here, without his family. No excitable chatting from Yuzu, no obnoxious father -

No Grand Fisher.

He breathes deeply and pushes a bedraggled lily back into place. Fractured memories of that day pierce his mind, their broken edges leaving imaginary trails of blood down his skin. The unbearable heat, Rukia's bizarrely oversized hat, Karin lying unconscious on the concrete, and the vague sensation of Rukia's hands on his chest, pleading with him to let Grand Fisher go. The light in her eyes, then and when he returned to the cemetery, overwhelms him now just as it did then. How did she have so much feeling in her then? And more importantly, how had he forgotten it was there in the first place?

"Mother..." he murmurs, and tilts his face back to the sky. He turns to leave.

The rain is pouring heavily as he steps up to his door. It runs rivulets through his hair, trails down his forehead and drops off the ends of his eyelashes. Karin gives him a curious look as he trudges past her and up the stairs, pushing a sodden lock of hair out of his eyes. He takes a towel from the linen closet and pushes open the bathroom door, but stops short of stepping inside.

Rukia stands in front of the mirror, holding her pyjama shirt, slipped off her shoulders and unbuttoned to her ribcage, loosely to her chest. She stops inspecting the narrow wound on her shoulder and meets his eyes through the mirror. For a moment they do nothing, then Ichigo looks away and Rukia shrugs her shirt back onto her shoulders and fastens the buttons. When she is finished, she gathers her composure, crosses the tiled floor silently and stops before him. Ichigo looks back at her curiously.

"You're wet," she notices, and stiffly lifts an arm to his hair.

He nods, still staring.

"Ichigo?" Rukia brings her arm back to her side and frowns slightly as he searches her eyes for what he needs to find. "Is something wrong?" Her eyes are a beautiful mix of curiousity, worry and confusion. He can see her breathe now; a slow, even rise of her chest and an almost imperceptible fall. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, gently grazing her thumb nail along the hem of her shirt sleeve.

It's a long time before he speaks. "No," he says softly, still trying to remember how she would have responded when they first met.

Neither of them move. He continues to watch her breathing.

As two: do not share the same form

It's not until they are back at school that Ichigo notices it.

He is the first to get to the rooftop for lunch, and wonders whether it will be the last day the weather permits them to do so. Swollen grey clouds lazily nudge against one another, disturbed only by a gentle breeze that brings with it the smell of woodsmoke and ash. Ichigo shivers inside his jacket and and pulls his sleeves a little further over his hands.

Chad is the first to arrive, and greets Ichigo with a slight inclination of his head and a grunt. Despite his size, he manages to ease down to the ground and sit cross-legged rather gracefully, with the efficient familiarity that comes from performing the same maneouvre all one's life. They sit in content silence for a while, Ichigo fingering the tab of his Coke and wishing for some sun, before their peace is interrupted by the rooftop door banging open and the rapid discussion of something highly unedible between Orihime and Rukia. He says hello to Orihime and nods at Rukia as the girls sit and exchange food, and is just about to bite into his sandwich before he pauses. It was true, that was more or less the way he had always outwardly greeted Rukia - a subtle acknowledgement of her presence - but this is the first time he realised he didn't have to fight the inward desire to do any more than that. He sighs wearily and drops his sandwich. Leaning back against the wire mesh fence, he turns his head to look at her as she stabs her juice box, gives a victorious cry of glee and downs the whole thing.

It's not as if he's gone off her, or something like that. He enjoys her company, and they're still friendly to each other (well that part was a lie, they were only occasionally friendly to each other, but no less than usual). And it's not like he's been on her either - he hasn't quite managed to bring that topic up for discussion yet - except for the time he tripped over Kon and fell on her, in a position that for any other person would have been a perfectly good way to start (he could almost hear Kon thinking the immortal line "while you're down there"), and all the action he got from that was a smack in the face.

The beeping of her cell phone and his badge startle everyone. "Ichigo!" Rukia looks up at him.

"Yeah." He gets swiftly to his feet, his body still propped against the fence, now lifeless. "Come on."

"What?" She looks surprised. "Ichigo, this one's hardly a challenge, I'm still injured -" She gives a yelp as he loops one arm round her waist and tosses her onto his back.

"Kurosaki-kun..." Orihime frowns as the two bicker for a moment. She twists the hem of her skirt in her hands and lowers her head as Ichigo leaps out of sight.

"Was that Kurosaki?" Unbeknownst to the others, Ishida had settled himself beside Orihime. "Emergency," he explains, when Chad looks at him with marginally more curiousity than he usually did, "stuffing everywhere." He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Good thing I always come prepared." He brandishes his sewing kit in Orihime's face to emphasise his point.

She's still gazing in the direction Ichigo had dragged Rukia off in, paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else. "Kurosaki-kun isn't himself today..." She murmurs, and looks down at her nails. Ishida clears his throat loudly and her head shoots up to look at him. "Ishida-kun!? When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. Look," he says, his voice softening to a point where Chad feels uncomfortable, "it's none of my business what's bothering Kurosaki. And it's none of yours, either." He regrets his words when Orihime recoils in hurt. She looks away from him, back to where she last felt Ichigo's presence, before gathering her things, murmuring an apology and fleeing downstairs.

"Well," Ishida mutters dryly as Chad blinks at him impassively, "Kurosaki's probably having more fun than I am."

"Ichigo..." Rukia glowers at the back of his head as she directs. "This was not necessary. Left."

He casts a glance over his shoulder and grins. "C'mon, Rukia. I wasn't looking forward to history anyway."

"Well I was. I said left!"

"Oh, right." He drops to the ground in the centre of a muddy field and dumps her off his back before she has a chance to get her footing. She shrieks as she stumbles and slips on the wet grass. "You'd fail it anyway."

"It's behind you."

He has half a second to swear at her before the hollow takes a chunk out of his shoulder and Rukia lets out a cackle. Using its leg as a stepping stone, he jumps onto the hollow's back and plunges Zangetsu into its head, narrowly missing the mask.

"You idiot! You missed!"

"I can see that!" Ichigo shoots her a glare before attempting to yank his sword out. The hollow jerks sideways, throwing Ichigo to the ground, and howls in pain. He rolls out of the way as it swings one fist towards him, just managing to scramble onto its head and wrench Zangetsu free. He leaps off its back as it rears up again and twists mid-fall, slicing the sword through its mask and down its abdomen. He lands heavily on the ground and rubs his shoulder. "Oh, man. That was a pain."

"Took you long enough." Rukia smiles and comes over to him. "Let me see." She bats his hand away and inspects the wound. "It's tiny! Ichigo, I didn't know you had gotten so weak." Wisps of kidou move from her fingertips to his skin.

"Shut up," he grumbles, turning his head to watch. She laughs quietly and grins up at him, and for a moment he remembers how much he missed her looking at him like that, like he was the only one who'd ever see that smile. In another moment he realises he didn't even know she had stopped.

Of the third: we simply don't have eyes

Ichigo stirs from the dredges of sleep and awakens to complete silence. His alarm clock glows 3:04. Groaning, he pulls the covers up to his chin and squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, the clock reads exactly the same. Outside the sky is clear and littered with stars. The moon has dwindled to little more than a bright scratch against the darkness.

He yawns stiffly and pulls himself from his bed. He arches his back, willing his limbs into consciousness, and wanders down the hallway. In the kitchen, he stares blindly into the fridge for several precious seconds before grabbing a bottle of juice and swigging half its contents. He pads back through the lounge to the stairs, scratching his head and already thinking of the cozy covers waiting for him in his bedroom, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye and freezes. He wouldn't have noticed Rukia at all, sitting on the couch with her knees tucked up to her chest, if it weren't for a stray glint of starlight outlining her hair. He moves around to see her face and reaches out a hand, wondering if she's fallen asleep in some sort of zombie-like state. She shifts suddenly and lifts her eyes to him. "What, Ichigo?" She murmurs softly, her fleeting gaze a fascinating mix of ink, twilight and the universe.

Despite his increasing weariness, he gives her a crooked smile. "You looked pretty spaced out. I was about to check for a pulse," he jokes. His grin fades when she returns to looking out the window. "Oi, are you listening to me?" He clamps his hand on her shoulder and shakes her. "Stop zoning out, moron!" He's a little stunned when she grasps his hand and pushes him away. About to move towards her again, he falters when she leans, ever so slightly, further away from him and presses herself into the couch.

Words fail him. He waits for a while, but she continues to say nothing. She doesn't even look at him. Fighting the desire to turn and run, he sorts through his options and comes up with none. He has no idea what to say or do, and that frightens him. Had they really become so out of touch with each other?

"You look tired, Ichigo." Rukia's voice startles him. "Go and get some sleep."

He makes a non-committal noise and shrugs, and, hooking his foot around the leg of the armchair, he drags it closer to the couch and drops into it. He rubs his knuckles against his eyes and peers at her through the gloom.

"Go back to bed, Ichigo."

He fights back a yawn and slumps further down. "I will when you do, Rukia."

She flinches at the sound of her name, and Ichigo wants nothing more than to sit next to her and feel her warmth against his side. But she's already forgotten him, lost in starlight and the smoky scratch of moon and her place in the universe and he's afraid she'll shatter if he touches her and drags her from her thoughts. So he stays where is, fighting sleep while Rukia fights something he feels is too close to him.

In the morning he wakes to a crick in his neck and an empty couch.

Of the fourth: we have no hope in that direction

Ichigo avoids her for most of the day, until he realises there's no need to now that he has absolutely no idea where she is. His family eat dinner in relative silence, with him brushing off her absence with a shrug and a slight grunt. He retires to his room early, and spends a good hour or so stuffing Kon in his closet and wondering where Rukia had gone, until the little bastard gets out again and he has to repeat the process. All in all, he doesn't get a whole lot of wondering done. Eventually he yanks the soul candy from the plushie's mouth and puts both items in his drawer, debating whether or not to just go to bed. He figures he may as well, more out of boredom than any real desperation.

Even so, sleeps comes easily with an exhaustion he didn't know he had, and he remains undisturbed until the slight creak of his window rouses him. He sits up just in time to collide with Rukia's foot as she leaps past him, causing her to land unceremoniously on the floor. It takes him a moment to realise that she isn't getting up as soon as she should, and he peers over the edge of his bed.

"Ichigo..." she mumbles, pushing herself up and leaning back against his desk. Her breathing is ragged, her cheeks flush with feverish pain, and one hand clutches at her bleeding collarbone. "That hurt."

"Rukia!" Tinged with guilt, he slips off his bed and grasps her wrist, gently pulling her hand away for a closer look. "What the hell happened?"

She winces and pushes lightly at his hand. "A hollow. I'm fine...I just worked too hard." She raises her hand again and tries in vain to heal the reopened wound. "Stay there," Ichigo commands, and leaves to get some bandages.

When he returns she has her eyes closed, but stirs when he presses a piece of gauze to her neck. "Why didn't you call me?" He says, not entirely harshly, and checks to make sure he's satisfied with the wound. He can tell she doesn't want to talk to him, but he holds her eyes with his until she gives in and turns her head as much as she can to look away. "I was out...you didn't show up."

He frowns and tidies the dressing. "I've been sleeping."

"Besides," she glares back at him, "I don't need you to take care of every hollow. I managed it on my own before - before I met you, and I can manage it now." She closes her eyes again and doesn't open them when he responds. "It doesn't look like it," he mutters, but the fact that she hasn't hit him yet tells him to leave it at that.

She's silent as he retrieves her gigai and nudges her into it. She sighs and opens her eyes, glad of the pain now only in her mind.

"C'mon," Ichigo mutters, and helps her to sit up. "You need some rest."

Without much protest she crawls into his bed and sighs wearily again. Ichigo tucks the blanket around her and gets up to leave when the urge to sleep overwhelms him once again. He sits back down on the bed, and after a slight hesitation, stretches out beside her, aware that she is awake and not altogether caring. He rolls to face away from her and pulls the covers to his chin. "Ichigo?" Rukia's voice is thick with some emotion he can't recognise. He mumbles a reply and closes his eyes. She pauses, struggling to find the words, before burying her head in his pillow.

"Goodnight."

She wakes with sunlight streaming in through his window, the troubles of the previous night forgotten with the rhythmic beat of the sun's rays that warm her from the inside out. For a moment she forgets where she is, and stretches languidly, reveling in the morning's repose, and her elbow nudges against Ichigo's side. She twists her head to look at him. His sheets are tangled around his legs, one arm draped across his stomach, the other twisted under his pillow. She smiles, rubs sleep from her eyes and rolls to face him. She slips one hand under his shirt to rest just above his heart. His skin is warm from sleep. His steady heartbeat comforts her. She shuffles closer until she's settled against his side, just to see what it's like, and she decides she likes it so much she's going to stay there.

Lying as close to him as she can get, she presses her other hand against his ribs and rests the knee of her right leg on top of his. Her breathing slows to match with the beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingertips, and she tilts her head to rest her cheek against his arm. She's unsure how long she stays like that, reacquainting herself with Ichigo's rhythm, until the sounds of his awakening family drift up to her from downstairs.

She reluctantly slips from the bed and heads to the door, giving a lingering glance back to him before making her way downstairs to tell Isshin what a wonderful time she'd had at Inoue's sleepover.

At the fifth: therein lies the heart.

They walk home in silence. Rukia trails behind him, swinging her bag around her knees and humming a vaguely familiar tune. Ichigo stops suddenly, so suddenly that she walks right into him and almost falls over. "Why'd you stop, idiot?!" She growls, clenching and unclenching her fist. She grips her bag dangerously.

"Oi, Rukia." He turns to look at her. "Want to go get some food?"

She brushes off his ignorance of her question and glowers suspiciously at him. "Are you paying?"

"Are you offering?"

"Of course not." She hoists her bag onto her shoulder and walks ahead of him. "Hurry up then."

He smiles and jogs to catch up with her, regretting his offer as soon he sees how much she wants to order.

Sipping her milkshake, she swirls a chip through her sundae and watches as the ice cream melts through her fingers. "So what's the reason behind this, Ichigo? Are you apologising for something I'm not aware of?" He scowls and swallows the rest of his burger. "No. I was hungry." He pushes a serviette across the table to her. "And I thought it'd be rude if I went without you."

She smiles, sticks the soggy chip in her mouth and wipes her hands. "Are you going to finish those chips?"

"No." He nudges them towards her too, half hoping she'll smile again, just so he knows she still can. He gets better than that. Her arm jerks as she laughs, blowing a puff of soft serve from the top of her sundae to puddle in the middle of the table. This makes her laugh even more, uncontrollably; she balls her hands into fists, her shoulders finally relax and her eyes light up -

There. That was it.

Before he can stop himself he's staring at her, hardly daring to breathe, as a smile spreads across his face. Now he remembers how she could once have had so much feeling inside her. And he knows, he's sure of it, that she still does.

Eventually, she gathers enough dignity to wipe a serviette over the melted ice cream, another smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She glances up at him through the curve of her hair and looks amused. "You'll catch flies, Ichigo," she chides, and throws a chip at his face. But she's grinning too, and the burger bar staff can't help but watch the two smile at each other like a couple of loons.

We all die as we are born. We always find the end before the beginning.

They trace the lines of Sereitei, winding their way through the streets in silence. He can't help but be edgy - this lazy stroll seems like a too-casual way to pass time, and he'd much rather be running around fighting and yelling at people. But Rukia seems content to walk in silence, slowly, but never stopping; just slow enough that she can cast an eye over the buildings and people and breathe it all in. Inevitably they are drawn to Soukyoku Hill. Ichigo watches the wind lift her hair from her face as she stands on the execution grounds, surveying the cloudless sky.

His stomach twists as the recollection of the day she left comes back to his mind unbidden. He felt her terror as part of his the last time their eyes met - his desperate, hers pleading and brimming with tears, and how his own, physical heart felt like it was aching when he knew she was gone for good. The dull pain crawls its way back into his memory.

"Rukia," he calls softly, just so she will look at him. Her smile eases his soul.

His determination to save her never surprised him as it seemed to surprise everyone else. Watching her now, pacing the edge of the cliff, he can't imagine doing anything different. What does surprise him is how easily he forgot the closeness they shared so quickly. The intensity of their relationship developed from the time she first told him her name, and he saw that intensity reflected in her eyes when she looked at him in those first few months, and it burned him to the core.

A tremor sparks in his mind and travels down his spine at the image.

He almost misses her as she walks past him to look up at the Senzaikyuu that once held her, in what seems to be an eternity ago. He finds his feet follow after her. He waits for her to speak, but she doesn't. She just stares up at the tower, burning a brilliant white against the sky. He sighs and shifts further into her line of vision. "It's time for me to go now." The wind catches his words and carries them past her. She nods without taking her eyes from the tower.

"I'll see you soon, Ichigo." Finally she drags her gaze to him. "Take care."

"Yeah." Half a grin forms on his face. "You too."

He leaves her then, surrounded by the fiercely blue sky, as she tips forward onto her toes and stretches her arms above her head, feeling closer to absolution with each beat of the sun.

To finally see the subtlety of the end,

and understand it completely, is what it means to die

Ichigo forces himself to listen to his friends ramble about the state of their impending English test, and nods at the appropriate times. He's silently thankful when their teacher enters the classroom and snaps at Keigo to sit down and shut his mouth. He shares a grin with Chad before glancing at the door, yet again. Orihime leans forward and smiles encouragingly. "Cheer up, Kurosaki-kun!" She beams at him. "Kuchiki-san's not due 'til this afternoon anyway, isn't she?"

He growls a reply and shifts his attention back to the teacher. His attention, and the rest of the students', is shattered when the door is swiftly slid open.

"Good morning fellow students!" Rukia traipses into the classroom, hands clasped behind her back, gazing at them with larger-than-Ichigo-remembers eyes. She bows low to the teacher. "I apologise profusely for my recent absence, sensei." She clutches a hand to her heart. "I was suffering from a severe case of rickets."

"Well that's no good, Kuchiki. Still, at least you're back in time for your English test." The teacher thrusts a sheaf of paper at a surprised and disgruntled Rukia before turning back to her desk. She mutters her thanks and slips into her seat beside Ichigo. Turning to face him, she nudges his leg with the toe of her shoe. "Yo, Ichigo. Long time no see."

"Not long enough, if you ask me." Ichigo grunts and kicks back at her leg. He meets her gaze and she sees the smile playing in his eyes. "Welcome back, Rukia."

"Thanks. Now what the hell are the answers to this test?"

He waits for her at the school gates afterward. "So, how was it?" He asks as she joins him. "And rickets, Rukia? At least you look malnourished enough." She responds by tossing her bag to him, and he responds by hurling it back at her face. She grumbles and flounces ahead. "So, Ichigo," she swings to look at him, "did you miss me?"

"Are you kidding?" He shoulders his own bag and heads after her.

We cannot help ourselves from growing wiser.

He finds her kneeling in front of his mother's grave, talking softly as she winds lilies around the headstone. He almost feels like an intruder on the scene, and clears his throat loudly. Rukia smiles and gets to her feet, turning to greet him. "I was just telling Kurosaki-san about what a horrible son you've been lately."

"Yeah, whatever." He grins and moves next to her. "Hello, mother."

They stand in silence for a while, until Rukia's voice startles him out of his thoughts. "Are you happy, Ichigo?" She keeps her eyes on Masaki's grave. Ichigo tilts his head to one side and blinks at her. Her eyes, soft and pensive, shift between deep blue and indigo in the fading light, and a stray strand of hair threatens to obscure her smile. He has a mad desire to brush it back where it belongs. Instead he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and shrugs. "What sort of question is that?" He sighs when he realises she still wants an answer. "Yeah, I guess. I wouldn't say I was unhappy."

"Good." Her voice is hardly more than a whisper. "That's all I want for you, Ichigo. To be happy."

He stares at her, rooted to the spot as a chill wind whips dead leaves against her arms. She turns and smiles at him. "Come on, let's go home."

"Yeah." He shivers and peers up at the sky. "Look's like it's about to rain."

Rukia lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes. When she opens them again he swears they're brighter than before. She blinks slowly a couple of times, as if she's committing the clouds to memory, before looking back at him. "I thought it might." She takes her umbrella from its place beside the tombstone. "That's why I brought this."

They both turn and leave together, and in hindsight, Ichigo can't help but wonder if she already knew what was about to happen.

Those who are helpless to their search for knowledge

When it comes, it comes quickly.

His family are finishing their dinner. "This stew is simply wonderful, Yuzu-chan!" Rukia crows and bops Ichigo on the head. "Isn't it, Ichigo-kun?"

"S'alright." He pierces a chunk of carrot and inspects it with a bored expression. "Dearest Ichigo, must you be so cruel?" Rukia carries her plate to the kitchen, then returns and pats his hair condescendingly. He jerks his head away from her, and she responds by stooping swiftly and kissing his cheek.

"Night, Ichigo-kun!" She waves and heads up the stairs.

Panicked, he twists his head to watch her go. "Don't be weird!" Avoiding the eyes of his father, he clears his own dishes, thanks Yuzu for the meal and retires to his room, only to find Rukia sprawled on his bed reading a manga. "Oi! What are you doing in my room?" Dropping into his chair, he scoots over to the bed and pokes her shoulder. "Get off my bed."

"I'm reading," she replies, before closing the manga and sitting up suddenly, almost cracking her forehead against his jaw as she goes. When she lifts her head, her eyes meet his and he feels like the bottom of his stomach has dropped out when they reflect something he hasn't seen in a long time. Cheeks burning, he makes a small noise in the back of his throat while trying to figure out if he's ever actually seen that particular look before. She frowns a little, her eyes never moving from his. "What are you looking at, Ichigo?"

"You."

She clenches her hands around the hem of her dress and looks almost hurt. "Don't," she says softly, and lowers her eyes to the floor.

"I can't help it if you have a weird look on your face."

Her shoulders jerk forward then, and she bows her head and curls back into herself. He's not sure if she'd let out a sob or a laugh. "Shut up, idiot."

He moves forward and pulls her to him, slipping one arm around her back and resting his chin on her shoulder. She stays still for a while, in case he changes his mind, before gripping his t-shirt with both hands and turning her face so her forehead rests against his cheek. "Careful, Ichigo. People might start to think you're soft."

"You're the only one here."

"Well, I might."

Before he can respond he hears the beep of her cell phone and the deafening crunch of shattered plaster at the same time that a blast of reiatsu makes its way through the floor, and the house shakes. "Ichigo!" He hasn't even realised she's out of her gigai and has the door open. "I'll get your sisters; find your father." She's gone before he has the chance to say anything.

A terrified scream propels him to move, and he shunpos downstairs in time to get the wind knocked out of him as a beam of wood strikes him from behind. "Ah, Ichigo, my son! What are you playing around down there for?" The looming face of his father comes into his blurred vision and he extends his hand to him. Ichigo grabs it and is swiftly pulled up.

"Protect the girls, son." Isshin says, his voice low. He grips his shoulder and their eyes meet briefly. Ichigo nods numbly and heads quickly upstairs. As he steps into the hallway the crushing spiritual pressure of an Adjuchas grinds into his brain. Yuzu stumbles from her bedroom, taking a few steps before her legs fold beneath her and her head meets the ground with a crack. "Yuzu! Hey!" In a second he's crouching beside her, lifting her in his arms and wiping the blood from her face. She flinches as his fingers brush a deep gash just above her brow. Struggling to focus through the screeching roar of the hollow, he gets her downstairs and hands her to his father. "Dad, have you seen Karin?"

Isshin tucks Yuzu's head to his shoulder and turns toward the clinic. "The girls were together," he pauses and slowly looks back at Ichigo. "...Can you hear that?"

"Hear...what?"

His father tightens his grip on Yuzu. "Exactly."

Ichigo turns to look back at the stairs, at the falling dust making circles on the carpet, the drops of his sister's blood staining the walls. The utter silence is more deafening than the shattering crashes and screams he had heard only moments before. "Karin?" He whispers, before taking the stairs two at a time and throwing open the door to her room, only just realising that breathing comes easier and the reiatsu is gone.

Particles of dust sting his eyes as he searches through the gloom. He makes out the shadowed form of Rukia lying with her back to the wall, cradling Karin in her arms. "Karin!" He crosses the floor and pulls his sister to him, tilting her head to check for a pulse. She sits up suddenly and chokes on the dust-filled air, turning terrified eyes to him. "Ichi-nii?" She gasps, before throwing her arms around him and clutching his neck.

"Hey," he murmurs, hugging her. "Are you ok?"

She nods, still trembling, and pulls back. "Is Yuzu ok? Where's dad?"

"They're downstairs." He stumbles a little as she lurches out of his arms and heads for the door, calling her sister's name.

"Karin -" He moves to follow her and suddenly remembers Rukia.

"Oi, Rukia," he turns back to her. "Thanks -" He tilts his head to one side, his smile slowly fading. He reaches out his hand to her.

Moonlight breaks through the window.

She makes so little movement that he wonders if she's breathing at all.

His heart skips a beat when he realises she's not.

Are those that cannot transcend death.

In hindsight, Ichigo thinks it's less like it's aching, and more like it's being clawed apart.