Pit-Patter
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Characters: Ishida, Rukia
Rating: PG
Warnings: pairing
Summary: rain will roll off her skin, but cling to his.

—x—

The first time she hears he had come to the Soul Society to learn of ways to become stronger, not to rescue her, as Orihime, Chad and most of all Ichigo had intended, she wants to laugh. To her, it's expected and she's never thought he would truly attempt to save just her.

Uryuu has been reaching for an ambition that seems to slip through the spaces of his fingers each day. The goal he wishes for reflects in his eyes, though he cannot grasp it. It's there but untouchable. Rukia tells herself that she doesn't understand such a feeling—there is nothing she wants anymore, other than to fulfill her duties as a shinigami.

(He's a Quincy, they're different, not shinigami, they live differently, maybe).

But she doesn't laugh. Because, honestly, she thinks there's something stopping her. And she only tells herself she doesn't understand once, because there's something that tells her otherwise. Just something, something, something…

—

pit-patter, pitter-pat, tap, titter

rain, rain

—

The first time she approaches him alone, he hears her say his name. He knows there is a laden statement beneath the tone. His name is spoken like any other (Ishida-san?). However, the approach is reserved and assured; not a hint of inquiry. His experiences towards these advances are quite wide, courtesy to his father's teachings in get-together business parties and odious openings. People of wealth and light backgrounds introduced themselves to him and his father often. It's a test to see if he can handle it. These presentations have lessened him to a better understanding of how to deal with the situations professionally.

However, at the moment, he wants to be anything but professional. And he wants to ignore this test.

She has her hands folded behind her back, leaning forward into the comfort of the shade of the tree looming over him. He frowns as he doesn't feel Korusaki's reistu anywhere near her. It's odd, considering it's as if she's missing a part of her whole being. It seems whenever he feels her reistu, he should feel Korusaki's, as well. But she is alone.

Her features are trained and he sees why they would call her a noble in the Soul Society. But he doesn't study her now; he's done that before and he has her memorized by now. No longer does he need to speak with her (he's only needed to do that once, and that time has long passed). The book he holds in his hands beckons his attention louder than her.

"Is there something you wanted, Kukichi-san?"

When he blinks to stare up at her, he sees she hasn't changed her facial expression. She's still testing him. He's not up to it, but he takes it anyway. Turning the page, Uyruu awaits her answer.

"It's not what I want," she remarks.

Pit-pat.

It startles him. A little. It's not a normal comeback. As they fully lock gazes, he sees something (something, something,) reflect in her eyes. That hidden statement, laden wish, he had known himself, is laced into her aura; wrapping its ribbon around her smooth skin. The desire suits her more—it's sophisticated on her, as an evening dress fits a wearer. But it does not mix well with him; it is akin to cold water running over his skin and it clings tightly to remind him of what he cannot achieve.

Suddenly, she closes her eyes and gives a small half-smile. Standing straight, Rukia looks to the side, gazing over to the trees by the front of the school. Frowning, he watches her more. Is the test over? Assuming, it is because she has seemed to loose interest in his presence so soon.

"Orihime wanted to know where you were," turning to go, she waves half-heatedly, ending her part.

Pit-patter.

There is no need to answer her. They hardly talk to each other (but so much to talk about, so much to listen to, so much to enjoy) and he doesn't see any other reason to start now. Korusaki does that for the both of them. If there's something important, Korusaki tells them or they tell him (never each other, because it's all about Ichigo, right?).

"Do you read, Kukichi-san?" he asks and the world seems to stop around the two of them.

It's just a question about books. Does she read books? He doesn't know; he's never seen her with one, unless it was a schoolbook. What are her hobbies? He doesn't know that either. She's not a mystery to him but he doesn't have her all the way figured out yet. He's never bothered before. It's always been too complicated to find out. But it means he's interested. And that alone sparks wonder between them; more on his part, however.

She pauses and spins slowly on her heel to face him. The moment he sees her face, he ducks his own down. That's failing the test. Looking down is surrendering. But he doesn't care because he knows she did the same.

Giving a slight cough, he raises himself.

"I suppose we should go now," he passes her still form (something else passes through the both of them, something mutual and mystifying), "For Orihime-chan's sake."

She doesn't answer, but she follows a step behind him until they arrive to the others.

—

titter, pit, tap

rain, rain, go away

—

The first time she actually said his name, he is confronting the shinigami coming for Rukia. Later, he learns they were her brother and friend (supposed to be, but shinigami are like that, he's not, maybe).

Without looking at her, he knows she's saddened. She's supposed leave—rip herself from Korusaki and the rest of this world. She means to carry it alone. (But, you see, he carries a burden too, the same kind, but it's killing him). Her stare is like a glow—not comforting but not horrible either. It's warm and almost dries the wet and cold desire from his skin. Clearly, she isn't aware of the small affect she gives him. He really isn't either.

"Uyruu…"

Pit-pat.

No honorifics. Complete familiarly. With the knowledge of being torn from this world, she seems to throw nobility and care away. Everything is stripped down to how she views everything else. This is a part of who she is—no act.

He doesn't respond to her. It's not important, he tells himself. He doesn't have to. They get interrupted and there's no room to wonder what could have happened, what she would have said, what he would have done. Just no more time. And somewhere in the back of his mind, there's a little restlessness and question if they'll ever get a chance. Did now, of all times, have to be the only opportunity they are given?

"I'm not gonna ask again, four-eyes," the crimson haired shinigami swings his sword towards the Quincy, "Who are you?"

And the world spins yet again.

—

tip, tatter, pat

come again another day

—

The first time he says her name is when he introduces himself to her. Kurosaki won't allow him to see her; apparently business that has to do with Rukia is now Kurosaki's too. (Well, now it's all his business too; she's part of his life now, not just Kurosaki's). Uryuu doesn't take mind. He creates a plan, a diversion and sets it into action.

He needs to speak with her and when he finally does, they're not completely alone. The mod soul is there, who is ignored.

"So this is your handwork," she means the hollows.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, I should say," he means to give her a test (it's the test, will she pass?), "I finally get to speak with you privately, Kuchiki Rukia."

He tells her things. Tells her that fighting the hollows have meaning; to save others, to prove he's more worthy than a rookie shinigami. No will die, he says—he won't let anyone die. He'll protect everyone.

Their eyes meet. She almost recoils. Almost. She's interested and fascinated. They have something in common, he can see it. It's the first time he sees her without the walls and acts. And it's the first time she sees someone from the outside looking in. (Because, let's face it, she's usually that person; always alone, looking in—now she's sharing that space with someone else and it's okay with her).

She can catch sparks of determination glitter in his eyes, or is that just the sun hitting his glasses? He's so sure of his goal, whatever it is. But he's so unsure about himself. Is that it? He knows how to accomplish his goals, just doesn't know himself enough to do it. For a fleeting moment, she realizes that is her. It's how she's lived her sorrowful melodious life. And she finds herself inwardly asking what type of life has he truly led.

And as they enter a little world of just the two of them for the first time, she thinks there could be time enough to ask him herself.

"What are you…going to do…after this is all over…?"

It seems safe enough to ask. They're still in their own world and he looks comfortable to answer it.

A loud shriek rips a hole into their world and they're pulled back. With dark intention, the hollow lunges towards Rukia. Hurriedly, he raises his fingers and gathers the energy needed for his arrows. But before he can shoot, the monster is disintegrating already. Leftover particles of souls don't even touch the girl. She turns back around, her disturbed eyes lingering on the Quincy before they glow with recognition as she stares past his shoulder.

"Found you, Ishida."

Kurosaki.

Of course.

There to save the girl.

(He thinks the bad boy always gets the girl in the end, not the gentleman.)

—

Patter, titter, tap

we want to come out and play

—x—

End part one.

The "pit-patter", "titter-tap" is supposed to symbolic rain.

EDIT (1/21/11): Okay, so since this site is such a jerk when it comes to formatting, I have to redo the page breaks in chapters 1 through 7. Ugh.