A/N: So I have rewritten the third chapter now, again, I changed some plot elements to make it more fitting and added some major items to lead into the build-ups. Again, this is a slice-of-life kind of fic, but there's more to Rukia's mystery. 😊

I do not own Bleach.

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I don't care if it seems wrong.

I don't care if it looks rushed.

I don't care if it's crazy.

What I care about… is her.

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She's mysterious and all. Compare her to an abstract painting, if you will. At first you cannot make out the details, but you would see yourself appreciating it more as you discover more things about it. And then you would be craving for more and more, looking closer and closer to see the finest lines, the smallest of strokes.

Don't get me wrong though—not all things I find out about her is exactly ideal. Nobody is perfect after all.

But still, it's Rukia… And Rukia's… Rukia.

Do you even get what I mean?

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Session 3: Guarded

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Rukia was the first thing that I saw on the corridor leading to my clinic.

It was all effortless: her dark tresses heavily contrasted with the white backdrop of the wall she was leaning against, and it made the milky skin on her neck stand out even more. I always thought that my type was different, you know those tall, curvy types that made men swoon. But this woman… she demanded attention without knowing it. From her stance down to the smallest movements of her lips while sucking on the end of a consumed ice pop, and with just that she stirred my rather healthy imagination.

I cleared my throat to drive away my thoughts and she lifted her gaze from her feet to my face in response.

"Oi, doctor. Took you long enough."

"Those are for my kid patients, y'know. Can't eat it as you wish."

"Come on, Ichigo. Just this once." She pulled out the lollipop stick from her mouth and wagged it before chucking it into the trash box at her side. Rukia's eyes went brighter as she ran a look from my head to toe as if in appraisal, and then reached out to me to tug on my sleeve.

"I can't believe you're this old and you don't know how to do this shit." I realized she was fixing the folds of my dress shirt and did it more neatly than earlier.

"Amazing, smidge. Don't you know this is very domestic? Aren't you very domestic to me?" It was meant to be a tease. The smaller figure chuckled in response, mumbling something like dummy something something moron under her breath, and then took a step back with a finger on her chin.

"Hey, you look good on this. Pink button-down, denims, a fluffy pair of blue slippers and scowl that looks very well on your chiseled face…"

Then she took an effort of straining her legs to tiptoe—just to mock-punch me on the cheek.

"You're a doctor everyone has the hots for. Except maybe me."

Ah, this woman.

Rukia should consider herself lucky for ending up in my place, I decided. I wasn't just getting possessive. If she behaves like this in front of another person with low self-restraint, then she'd surely be in trouble. No amount of judo would protect her from wild, rabid animals out there.

And I thank all of that is holy for not making that happen.

"Shut up. I don't have the hots for you either." I cringed away in faux disgust, although I might have been lying. She started laughing heartily—one of the few times that she lets her guard down completely—and it made her more fascinating.

But that's just sometimes. And by that I mean just a fraction of a second.

Whenever I noticed it, she immediately snaps back to her unpredictable, unfathomable state. She does it in perfect timing. Every. Single. Time.

She stopped laughing when I darted a glare towards her direction, both her hands which were covering her mouth fell limply to her side and there was a ghost of an expression in her face that I couldn't identify.

"Really? You don't?"

I dragged my eyes off her and focused on something else. "Yeah, I don't. So shut up. Why do you care?"

I went for the Claude Monet painting on the wall opposite her... but… I could tell she wasn't ready to let it go. Ignoring her, by the way, felt like an itch. Try as you may to not pay attention to her but the itch would just get worse.

From my peripheral, I saw her quietly walk towards me, only to stop a foot away. Without looking I knew her stare was trying to pierce me, like she was digging deep into my thoughts, and then spoke her prophetic statement.

"It's alright. People aren't born ready."

I fought so hard to not tell her anything. Yet. Things were getting physical, and I was trying to not give anything away to not appear indecent. It wasn't all sexual. I wasn't trying to get into her pants as soon as I can. I was genuinely interested in Rukia, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

I didn't even know why we were getting to that point or why my opinion mattered. I was under the impression that all the touching, the kissing, didn't matter to her. That it was just casual like everybody does these days.

Before I could give a coherent answer, the doorbell rang—my first patient of the day.

By the time I brought back my attention to her, Rukia had already retreated elsewhere.

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After my three-hour session with Hanatarou, I discovered that my other patients were already at the waiting lounge.

There were eight of them, six were my regulars: Omaeda, Hisagi, Kira, Inoue, old man Sasakibe and his nurse Isane… The other two had just placed their appointments the day before, a child with a tacky name called Wonderweiss and an enormous dude who introduced himself later on as Yammy.

What surprised me is that another certain someone was wearing the bright pink apron that my sister left ages ago, someone who busied herself with offering candies and other whatnots to the patients.

And you guessed it right.

My new, unpaid, mysterious receptionist was Rukia.

I found myself with a smile as I silently watched her, thanking her inside my mind for the effort that she was giving. She looked sincere as she grinned on my patients, especially on Inoue. However, my grin turned into grimace as I noticed the males (except Sasakibe, since he's sort of forgetful already) were looking at her with slightly pink faces and mouths formed into 'O's. Omaeda was actually holding his hand out like he was waiting for a an opportunity to squeeze something.

Damned perverts.

"Ehrm,. Omaeda-san, are you there already?" I called out to him immediately, not wanting him to get the chance to get his hands into anything.

When he came forward, he still had his eyes on Rukia—he even grabbed a cookie from her plate. How I wished he would trip and bash his head on the floor already.

"Oh, come here you big oaf." I said irritably without thinking. He stopped and looked at me inquisitively.

"What did you just say, doctor?"

"I said that's a big oat cookie, Omaeda-san." I grunted, then I stepped out and shoved him inside the room. "Now, now, let's start."

Before I went in I saw that Rukia was talking to Inoue and quite oblivious to all the ogling earlier. Fortunately, Kira and Hisagi were still looking at me, and I gave the best glare that I could muster. Well, if there's something that every person needs to learn, the ought to not mess with their shrink or any person related to their health care. Or it will get pretty ugly real quick.

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The day went on more easily and more peacefully, with Rukia's aid. At lunch time, she knocked and halted my torturing—counseling—of Omaeda for a while just to bring in my lunch. When it's Hisagi's turn, she went in to bring tea and milk; in Kira's she brought re-heated cookies.

Actually, even though her services meant that my refrigerator and cupboard are losing their contents more frequently, I am somewhat smug. Especially when Isane asked something when I was giving prescriptions to old man Sasakibe.

"Ano… Kurosaki-san, who's the girl?"

"Oh." A question like that was expected—I mean, it's the first time they saw someone else in the clinic. "That's Rukia. My… ah…receptionist."

"Hmmm, okay…"

My head bobbed automatically towards her seat, noticing her tone. "What is it, Isane-san?"

She smiled timidly. "I thought she is your girlfriend or something. You look good together despite some notable differences."

"Oh no. You got it wrong." I forced myself to sound hoarse. Her words actually made it hard for me to prevent the twitching on the corners of my mouth all day, because my lips wanted to disobey me again and smile eternally.

But of course I couldn't. Because I look good with a scowl on, according to a certain someone.

When it was Inoue's turn, I was about to talk to Rukia and tell her to rest already. However, I looked around and she was gone. Yammy and Wonderweiss weren't around either. There was a bit of anxiety in me, although I was convincing myself that Rukia could take care of herself.

"Ano… Kurosaki-kun…" I was snapped out of my thoughts when Inoue greeted me. As much as I want to look around for Rukia, I had a patient waiting, and my profession was almost always the first thing on my list. Almost.

"Ah, Inoue. Let's go." I motioned for her to come in the room, while my eyes travelled around for the last time, hoping that Rukia was just lurking out of my line of sight. But she wasn't, and I sighed.

Where could she have gone this time?

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At last, I bid goodbye to Inoue. It was 7PM already, the clock and my stomach both said in alarm.

First things first though. I dashed upstairs to search for Rukia. The apron unceremoniously chucked on a chair on the second floor, the plate of cookies was on the table. Painstakingly, I slowed down my pace when I was on the stairs to the third floor. My heart was thumping a bit faster than normal and my hand was sweaty against the doorknob of my room.

Two questions were always there when she disappears. A) What do I do when she's not there? B) What do I do when she is there.

It was the second question that came to fruition. I couldn't help but felt relieved when I saw Rukia sitting on my bed, in front of the television, wearing a new set of clothes and… her hair wet and framing her face. She seemed to notice my arrival even before she saw me. She smirked and waved a hand towards my direction.

"What's up, doctor?"

"What's up your face." I sighed, before leaning on the jamb. "Hey, er… thanks. I really appreciate your help earlier."

Eyes till glued to the TV, she shook her head. Rukia's attention seems to be drawn to the commercial with lots of bunnies on it. "It's nothing. You're letting me stay here for free."

"Oh yeah." I said, wondering about her lack of response. She was less hostile and there was less enthusiasm in her voice. PMS maybe? Was she sick?

"Oi, Rukia. Is there a problem?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you like that?"

She rolled her eyes and finally looked at me. "What? Lacking response? No, not really. I was just thinking. Thanks for interrupting my train of thoughts."

I pressed on, now my arms over my chest. "About what? Murdering me?"

" Would I get your properties if I kill you?"

"Wh-! You were really thinking of killing me?"

Her laugh tinkled against the ambient sounds. "Hey, Inoue's pretty." She stared at me like she was expecting an answer but rolled her eyes again as I kept my silence. Rukia held out her arms in my direction, her finger pointing at me like I was guilty of something.

"I was pointing out, Kurosaki, that your patient has the hots for you but you are so dense to notice."

There she goes again about finding me a girlfriend. Clearly, I am not the one who is missing the point. "Shut up, bird-brain. Do you even realize what you're getting at?"

"Yeah. It's a brilliant suggestion. Why not date her? She's pretty and curvaceous, very heartwarming too. I wanna hug her to be honest."

"Dammit," I was guessing that my frown was deepening further after my grunt. "She's fine, but that's…"

How do you phrase it? It wasn't illegal per se, but a little bit low on morals.

Just to be clear, not all patients of mine were horribly crazy (like, suffering from dementia, schizophrenia, or bipolar disorders), but the thing is, most of them are… different.

Some would have severe anxieties, denial, or extreme phobias. Yeah, I remember one patient that had vestiphobia. It is an irrational fear of wearing clothes. Then try to imagine going out with that person—or any person whose weaknesses are all laid out in front of you. You were supposed to help them, not to take advantage of them.

The point is, the whole thing was…

"Monstrously repulsive." I finally came up with a term to perfectly describe the situation.

Her grin widened unashamedly. "So you don't like dating patients?"

"You don't seem...disappointed." I narrowed my eyes, then sent her another glare as I was reminded of another important thing. "And please, don't try to make relationships for me. It's annoying."

"Ah. So you're stuck with me?"

"Yeah—" I paused when I choked mildly. "I mean no!"

"So you want other women—"

"No!"

"—so just me—"

"No!"

"—so you want me and other—"

"Hell no! I'm just…! Happy as it is!"

I slapped my hand in my forehead whilst slightly panting, non-existent ringing making a buzz in my ears from the sudden shouting. When I recovered from my outburst, Rukia was already in front of me with her lips pressed together.

"I was just messing around." A finger prodded me on the chest, her amethyst eyes wide and somewhat glittery. I realized she as giving me the shoujo eyes. "Idiot… Your patience needs a professional intervention."

My shoulders fell further. She was right—although she's the only one that could rile me up this much. "You keep on annoying me, it's unbelievable."

"Hah. Speak for yourself, Ichigo."

I liked how she breathes my name out, how she plays with it in her tongue.

I very much would like to kiss her right then and there, unfortunately my stomach heaved an enormous growl that broke whatever tension was forming between us. Much to my chagrin, I was subjected once more to endless teasing by the woman.

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There was total darkness when I opened my eyes. I reached out but touched nothing. The silence was deafening me and it felt very suffocating. Terrifying. It was then that I saw her.

"Icchi-kun…" The child emerged from the blackness, her eyes were almost glowing as she stared. Tears were pooling in them as she approached, her hand held out as if she was expecting me to pull her in.

"Wh-Who the hell are you?" I shouted back but I found myself moving in. The details were slowly getting clearer; the dress she wore had bloodstains on it—even on her skin. The contrast was eerie and haunting, but I was getting the feeling that I knew who she was. A forgotten memory… a lost friend…?

The child stopped walking when she was a foot away. Her tiny hands touched my face and cradled it as if I was more fragile. "Help me…Please."

"How…?" My heart was aching and I couldn't breathe; I realized I was sobbing. My entire body was shaking while she watched, and everything shifted around me until finally the light broke through.

I was on a garden now. There were sunflowers everywhere, children running on the background. It was a scene that was mildly familiar, although I cannot pinpoint yet where I've seen it. Maybe a movie, or a novel that I've read somewhere.

The child still was holding me in what little grasp she had. At first I thought she had gotten taller—but no—it was me who turned shorter. I looked down and realized I was wearing the same clothes when that thing happened. I was back in my lost years, in my teens.

"What's your name?" The child shook her head at my question. "How old are you?"

"You… don't remember, Icchi-kun?" Her voice hit me with immeasurable loneliness and guilt. She knew me, yet I didn't have a clue to who she was. The child started tearing up again, repeating the same words like a mantra.

"Help me… Help me."

The space around us warped again; it was as if time was being rewound and we were being swallowed again by the wicked shadows. I tried to hug the child but hands appeared and dragged her away. She was shouting, thrashing, and I was screaming in frustration before I could get to her. I suddenly recalled her name.

"No! Come back! I remember!" But she was gone, I could only hear her pained wailing. When there was nothing left but me in the void, a cold hand gripped my shoulder and pulled me back.

"N-no! What about her! The child!" There was no sense in fighting it back. I was clearly heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help… Yukio! YUKIO!"

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A stinging in my cheek prompted me to break free of the gloom—a couple of blinks and then I was back in my room. Rukia was hovering atop me, my body between her legs, her hand raised in a pre-emptive strike.

I was dreaming. Which was a surprise, everything felt raw and realistic.

"Do you need another slap?" She screeched in anger. Her eyes said otherwise. "Are you okay?!"

Was I okay? It was a weird dream and I still couldn't breathe properly. However, with the concern that she was giving me, everything strangely felt better. All I needed was a look at her face. I was starting to depend on Rukia like she was some sort of therapy of my own kind.

"I guess…?"

"Who's Yukio? You kept on shouting that name in the middle of the night! I thought you were dying!"

"I don't know."

Yukio… That was the child's name, but I still couldn't recall where I met her. To be honest, I couldn't remember much back then, back when mom had the accident. I learned later on that it was selective amnesia-my brain tried to cope up with grief and it blocked out important details that were related to a traumatic experience. Perhaps she was of importance. Perhaps I needed to look for her. Perhaps not.

"...It was kind of a nightmare." Words aren't enough to describe the strange pain that was eating me up. "Yukio might be a part of mom's memories...which I forgot... It's from way back. Urgh..."

"...Don't talk, dumbass." I thought she was going to slap me again but her stance relaxed and instead she left her palm to rest on my cheek. It was warmer than usual. And with her being this close, I could indulge myself with her sweet scent that was filling my lungs.

"You don't need to tell me everything." Her face drew nearer with her brows gathered at the center. "As long as you're alright."

I nodded and ran a hand to her shoulder down to her touch, giving it a light press.

"Yeah. I am."

The next thing I was aware of was that our kisses were greedy against each other.

I pulled her hastily, and she crashed into me. Everything was in a blur. My hands roamed everywhere that they wanted to and she breathed sharply against my kiss with every touch. The softness on her skin was enough to drive me insane—on her thighs, on her back, on her neck. Her small moans played music in my ears. Her lean figure felt breaking with the urgency, but the way her nails dug into my skin as we kissed told me otherwise.

Rukia, rukia, rukia... I was calling her name in my mind, repeating it as if I was afraid that I would forget her like I did with Yukio.

"Ichigo…" She finally breathed out when I pinned her down, nibbling at her neck. Rukia called me back to reality; and when I did, I saw the state of mess and undress that we were in.

It made me ponder whether to take the chance, but going by her expression, we both knew we were playing with fire. Defeating my own desires, I helped her shift beside me on the bed while never breaking the connection with our stares.

She spoke first after some minutes of silence, and perhaps deep contemplation of what we were doing with ourselves.

"I might have to consider sleeping in your closet now." It seemed like she was seriously considering it, which I found funny.

"You're a dummy." I sent a poke to her forehead and for a moment I thought I saw the same look that I saw in Yukio's face. A heavily masked solitude, a soul searching for some much-needed help. It was only a dream, but I couldn't afford for it to happen in real life.

"Hey, just stay with me, midget. Here."

I patted the bed cockily for emphasis. Rukia didn't say anything, but she moved closer to snuggle against my chest.

That kind of answer was enough, I decided.

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End.

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