~AN: First Bleach fan fic - so if I failed at delivering, then you know the reason why... o.o

R & R please guys! Lemme know what you think! 5+ reviews and I'll post another chapter :] (not...pressuring you or anything *coughs/side glances*)

LOOK, we all know I can't afford to get sued and its OBVIOUS that I don't own Bleach, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this and be stalking Ichigo instead. He's hot. Case closed.

SUMMARY

Rukia is dying and Ichigo is too busy falling in love with the wrong person to notice. Will it be too late? [Ichirukia x Hichirukia] and epic amounts of Ichihime bashing :]


{ Raven soul }

Ichirukia x Hichirukia

Anti-Ichihime

Rated: T

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P R O L O G U E

A vicious roar came from her side.

Sode no Shirayuki reflects the surface of the moon along the length of its blade as it dances through the midnight stars. Plum eyes follow the dance as both of their bodies gracefully became one – puncturing the chest of a vehement Hollow.

Rukia Kuchiki watches the dance end and the mask shatter into the night sky. The Hollow's body becomes rigid before concaving into nothingness.

The fight was done. Another lost soul was sent to Heaven.

Rukia leapt down to the earth, sheathing her sword as her sandaled foot tenderly kisses the ground. Kurakara's night life hums around her, the town is still fast as sleep, barely rousing from the conflict above.

The Shinigami stumbles after her gracious landing, and almost falls over before her hands catch her knees. The world spirals around and the air fuses with the dirt. Her midnight eyes are wide.

W-what's happening?

As soon as the dizziness came, it disappears and she regains herself cautiously. Rukia quickly assesses her body. Physically, she had no injuries and her Soul Form was perfectly fine. So if dizziness wasn't because of the fight then what from?

A stronger, virile reitsu faintly tastes hers, letting her know of its presence. Rukia's plum colored eyes flicker across the opening, where the moons unearthly illuminates the deserted park in a milky glow. It stirs in the shadows underneath the cherry blossoms. She sighs, benevolent, "Ichigo."

It's been two years since the events of Hueco Mundo and Ichigo's control of his final Getsuga Tenshou. He reminds her more of Ichigo then as he approaches her. His auburn hair is longer and wilder, haloed in the moon. His face has lost the last bits of baby fat leaving his face with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that would make any fan girl fawn at his feet. His body was lean and hard from the years of training and Hollow harvesting. It was shown through his walk, his aura: Ichigo had worked hard for this body and was proud of it, welcoming it as a gift that the gods had given him.

That Rukia had given him.

Her temples prickle in the oddest sensation and Rukia notices she's holding her breath. She lets out a sigh as the nineteen year-old Shinigami gives her a funny look, "why are you looking so on edge for, Rukia?" His lips curve up slightly.

"What do you mean?" She plays dumb and inwardly frowns at her retort. "You've been keeping me waiting!"

Even under those heavy folds of the black kimono, Rukia still notices the physique. She swallows thickly.

"No, you're just impatient," Ichigo tells her. He leans in closer, his hand on his chin as if he was figuring something out in front of him. "Why the rush? Have an important date with someone?"

"N-no!" Rukia eyes are wide as her face heats up. She hopes her voice doesn't sound as strangled as she thought. "H-how dare you think - i-idiot!"

Ichigo grins, seeing how he's hit a nerve on the smaller Shinigami and teases, "Who is it? Chad?" he asks, watching as Rukia's face turns from embarrassment to horrified, another blush building up on the other. "Or Ishida? Maybe its Renji?" he muses. Not that he would be surprised…

WHACK! Rukia replies with a hard punch at Ichigo's skull. "Idiot!" Her eyes are flaming. "I'm not dating anyone – a-and if I was – which I'm NOT – it would be none of your business!"

"It doesn't mean that you can throw punches at anybody!" Ichigo shouts back.

"You deserved it!" Rukia yells at equal intensity.

"Excuse me for trying to have a civilized conversation with someone," he ridicules, rolling his eyes.

"Asking if someone has to neglect Shinigami duties f-for a date is not something "conversational" rather – one shouldn't be talking about such foolish things!"

"Oh, sorry, it seems like I'm talking to Byakuya. Can you tell me when Rukia gets back?"

Rukia turns her back to him and crosses her arms over her chest, spluttering, "idiot, this whole argument is pointless. I-I'm not the one throwing indictments about relationships everywhere."

"I was hardly accusing you," Ichigo replies. "But seeing how tense you are, maybe a relationship isn't a bad…"

His voice fades as Rukia glowers at him. "Because you're the one to talk?"

It was harsh, she knew, but Ichigo didn't take it to offense. It was at that moment Rukia realizes that Ichigo has never been a relationship with anyone. It wasn't like he didn't have any friends, or that he was unattractive. Rukia knew of many Shinigami and humans alike who had their experiences Ichigo Kurosaki. But … he was alone like her. She lets her mind wonder as she stares in those amber eyes of his. Was… he waiting for someone, like she was?

Ichigo's eyes soften at her and Rukia's more than aware of the thrumming in her chest. "I'm just looking out for my best friend," he says.

Best. Friends.

She tries to ignore the little split of rejection inside her. You're going to keep on hurting yourself if you try and let him see you, a voice says in her mind. Brain over heart. Like it always was through Shinigami training; like it was when she grew up. Like it was as a Death God.

He leans an arm over her shoulders and the fact that his hard side is against her arm makes her face burn. To him, the touch was mutual; a sign of how their friendship was to him. To her, the touch makes her heart slip a beat. She inwardly groans.

Kurosaki Ichigo. You're so unfair sometimes.


AN: Short chapter, I know, but the first ones always are, aren't they?