Dear Diary...

Summary: Rukia confides in her diary...

Author's Note: I don't own Bleach. Never have, never will.

Dear Diary,

Laying back in this closet brings back so many memories. I like this closet. It's so dark in here, and for some reason, it makes me comfortable. I like to think of it as my work of art. The darkness is my canvas, my eyes are the ink, and I can paint it whatever I so wish.

It's ever so kind of Yuzu and Karin to let me share their room but I always creep back to the closet in Ichigo's room. I'm always careful, building up pillows where my body should be and waiting until they're asleep. It doesn't take too long, they're only small humans. Then I creep down the hallway, knock once on Ichigo's bedroom door and slip inside, knocking Kon aside as I go. I bid Ichigo goodnight and crawl into the open closet, shutting it behind me. The pyjamas are already inside, clean and folded neat and tidy on the pillow, like he's been waiting for me.

Waiting for me... Ichigo will never see it. He will never see how much he means to me.

Rukia K.

Dear Diary,

I'm worried about Ichigo. He's been distant with me today. So different, like he's in a world of his own. He didn't laugh and joke with us at dinner time. He just brushed them aside and kept himself focused in his own world.

I wish he would tell me what's bothering him. I tried asking him what was troubling him at lunch, and at dinner, but all I got was a waved hand.

I can hear him now through the closet door. He sounds angry. Like something has really riled him. It's not his father; Isshin is downstairs. Kon was in Yuzu's room being tortured, so it wasn't him. Karin keeps out of his way. The only other thing I could think of was Renji, but he stayed at Urahara's store when he was in the world of the living.

Ichigo, why won't you tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help you. Just let me into your heart Ichigo, and I can be there for you. Please let me.

Rukia K.

Dear Diary,

I... I cannot find words as to how I'm feeling, except scared. I can't believe this. I won't believe it. It isn't true. But it is. And we can never escape the truth, no matter how much we try to fight it.

He came to me tonight. I'd heard the closet door creak open and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Rukia..." I heard a voice hiss. I turned my body to face the doorway and saw him. Well I thought it was him.

"Ichigo," I smiled at him.

I heard a laugh. A sharp shrill laugh that had never suited Ichigo and never will. In the light, I saw Ichigo's figure climb into the closet, shutting the door behind him.

"Rukia," he hissed again.

And that's when I realised it. It wasn't Ichigo. Frantically, I tried to scramble away, but in such an enclosed place, there was no such luck. I felt a cold rough hand grasp my thigh and tug me downwards. In retaliation, I swung a small fist and felt satisfied when I felt it hit the side of his face. Before I knew what was happening, my wrist had been grasped and was now by my head. I tried again with the free hand and at the same time jerked my knees upwards.

It didn't work and now I found myself pinned. My breathing grew heavier and my heart beat faster.

"That wasn't very nice, Rukia dear," the voice hissed, closer to me ear. I felt a cold wet tongue touch my earlobe ever so slightly and I jerked away.

"Let me go! Who the hell are you?!" I shouted out.

I could see a huge grin forming on his face.

"How about I never let you go? That fool Ichigo was too dumb to notice and now he's too late," the voice said ever so calmly.

"Where is Ichigo?!" I yelled.

"Patience my dear," the voice said slyly. "Now, Ichigo is here, just slightly indisposed off..." The voice tailed off and I struggled against the strength above me.

"Who are you?!" I tried again.

"I have... No name!" The voice cackled and without warning, he pressed his cold lifeless lips to mind, pressing his body down upon me. He forced his tongue into my mouth and when I felt the intrusion, I bit down. Hard. He groaned in pain, pulled his head away and murmured, "Feisty, aren't you?"

I gave him a steely look and he grinned again.

He manoeuvred over me, so that one hand grasped both my wrists together above my head.

"Ah, Rukia!" he sighed. He bent down and kissed me again, his free hand snaking inside my pyjama top. His hand found a breast and he squeezed it gently. I gasped at the cold shock, yet he interpreted it as something else. He squeezed harder and his fingers roamed until they found what they had sought. He pinched my nipple hard and I cried out from pain.

"Like it rough, bitch?" he spat, and he moved to my other breast to give the same treatment. Again, I cried out. I could feel his face inches above mine, but my eyes became shut and kept tightly closed.

His hand roamed down and I felt the bottoms of the set tugged down. My arms were brought to my side and he gripped them there.

"Ichigo doesn't know what he's missing!" he laughed manically. And with that he lowered his white head and plunged his tongue into my insides. I cried out and screamed for Ichigo.

All I could do was clench my eyes shut and scream, until he had finished probing me with his tongue. I felt something harder and thicker there now and I began to thrash about as best as I could as an attempt to escape, eyes still shut.

"Stay still and I won't hurt you... As much!"

I screamed as I felt him enter my untouched area. The pain was unbearable. Just the feel of him inside me made my stomach churn. I had wanted my first time to be special and meaningful, not frightening and... There was no other word for it: this was rape. I wanted my first time to be with Ichigo, yet this was his hollow. The hollow was taking control of his body, so in a strangely messed up way, I was making love with Ichigo...

"Open your eyes," the hollow commanded.

Cautiously, I opened a violet eye. He was barring down upon me, his mouth twisted in a wide sadistic smile.

"Both eyes," he snarled. "I want to look in your eyes and watch how helpless you are beneath me, you pathetic excuse for a Soul Reaper!"

I opened my other as he had told me to.

With both eyes open, all he did was stare into them. For almost a moment, I felt that I could see my Ichigo struggling within this creature, but I blinked and he was gone. Instead, here remained the hollow.

With a flash of his teeth, he sank them into the delicate skin of my neck. I shrieked from the pain as I felt the skin break. Tears slowly slid from my eyes. His tongue lapped at my neck, where the blood was slowly pooling down.

"You taste so sweet," he whispered.

"Please," I whimpered, "just let me go!"

"I don't think so dear," he whispered again, and he began rocking his hips into mine. The pain slid from my neck downwards...

"I want you to call my name. Call me. Scream it. Moan it. Hichigo," he breathed.

"H-Hichigo," I said, voice quaking.

"Good girl," he smirked, and began rocking his hips harder and faster. There was nothing I could do...

*

When I awakened, I was lying on a clean white futon in unfamiliar surroundings, wrapped in a clean white robe. Kisuke Urahara was knelt by my bedside, a cup of water in his hands. So I must have been in the Urahara Store. He pressed into my hands, nodding his head and left the room quietly.

And that's when he entered. Ichigo. My Ichigo. The strawberry...

"Rukia," he whispered eyes downcast, "I'm so sorry!"

All I could do was cry.

Tears for me and my broken body. Tears for Ichigo, the one I loved. And just plain old fashioned tears...

Rukia K.