AN: Happy New Year's everyone! 2014, here we come!
Summary: Let's be free – just this once, under an orange marmalade sky.
Orange Marmalade Sky
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Prisoner.
A petite girl dressed in a richly dyed purple furisode traditional kimono bowed her head at the perfect degree angle she's memorized since birth. Hands placed firmly on the floor, curved as each fingertip aligned perfectly facing each other. Her short dark hair threaten to slip out of its white flower clips as she bowed down in front of her superiors – her family elders and her older brother.
The elders whispered words of distaste as the petite girl with the kimono that was a size too big, fought the urge to ball up her hands into tiny fists as she listened intently on their harsh whispers. She knew that they didn't like her, felt ashamed of her, wished she was never born but what choice did she have – she had no one. No one until that one fated day.
Free of itchy traditional clothes and solid plain colors with the boring patterns, free of watchful eyes and mocking whispers, free to be herself – she skipped her merry way down the street.
Walking passed a park in the neighborhood, the color of bright orange caught her attention as she tilted her head and decided to greet this young man sitting on the still swing. Hands holding each other resting on the small of her back, she skipped her way, nearing the young man and his tears of sorrow.
Sobbing and hyperventilating; the young man with the orange bright hair sitting on the swing tried to calm himself down but to no luck. His heavy breathing and sorrow filled whimpers had him grasping the metal chain of the swing for dear life.
The petite girl with her brown steel toed boots, purple striped stockings, and cut up bleached jean shorts, stopped when she reached her destination – the back of the crying stranger.
Silently tugging the hem of her purple t-shirt, the girl would normally politely tap on his shoulder to get his attention but seeing the broken soul in front of her, she silently but gently wrapped her arms around him. Feeling him stiffen at the contact, the man did nothing to push her away as she closed her eyes and whispered, "Please, don't cry"
The young man shook and shook, teeth pulling on his bottom lip and muffled cries fought hard to be kept deep in his throat; he tried to cover his weakness but he couldn't when he felt so down and so much sadness.
"Please give me half of your pain" She whispered as she continued to hold him.
From then on, the petite girl continued to visit the tall young man with the wild orange locks. His lips in a permanent pleasant scowl with hazel eyes no longer somber as each day passed by. Bright violet eyes and soft pink lips smiled and for once – she felt free.
Now she was here – her home that didn't feel like much of a home. It wasn't warm and filled with love like his. She was being punished for 'running' away again with no escort. She didn't need someone to babysit her, she was a teenager and a responsible one at that! She didn't understand why she needed to tell everyone her business, let alone about him, but somehow they did find out about him and she was suddenly facing trial. She begged and pleaded, she cried and dropped to her knees – she would be obedient for her family but she would not stand for an arranged marriage. Coming from nobility and high power with connections – they stayed true to traditional Japanese customs but she would not marry anyone she did not love. She already felt like a caged bird with clipped wings, a fish with no water. She didn't need to add misery and emptiness onto the list.
The meeting ended with no words spoken directly to her, her presence was the only thing needed of her as she stayed sitting on the floor with her head bowed down, waiting for everyone to excuse themselves and go on with their very busy lives. She apologized to the walls for being disobedient, they seemed to be the only thing that listened to her.
Once she thought everyone was gone, she sighed and tightly closed her eyes, the threat of tears stung her eyes as she got up and brushed her kimono off from any lint. A deep voice clearing its throat froze her in place as she looked up to meet the stern gaze of her older brother.
"You're being warned. The next time I won't be able to convince them to not start looking for eligible suitors for you" He simply said and left the room.
The petite girl dropped to her knees and clutched her chest, her tiny hands clenching the fabric material of her kimono close to her heart. She would not cry in the public of the meeting room, she'd wait until she was safe and secure in the privacy of her own room.
Back against the door of her room, she cried, soaking her kimono as she held herself, she needed to get out before suffocating.
She needed to see him again.
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Scattered clothes and make up thrown all over the bed, the petite girl hurriedly changed out of her traditional clothes she would wear at home. Changing into ripped dark skinny jeans, a black halter top, and three inch red pumps – she sneakily avoided any of the elders and her brother as she escaped into the setting sun.
She would be twenty in the coming year and as such, she hated not being allowed to wear what she wanted. Walking down the road, she put on red lip gloss and made her way to go see him.
Hesitantly standing outside the door to his apartment, she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Tapping her finger against her arm, she sighed and decided to knock. She needed to stop feeling guilty for always running away and calm the knowing fear that if she were caught – everything precious to her could easily collapse and crumble in an instance.
A dark shadow hovering over her, she spaced out when his tall figure opened the door. He warmly smiled and offered her, his hand as she took it.
Little did she know how someone from her own family followed her, watched her wrap her arms around broad muscular shoulders, kissing lips, muffled sweet content giggles, and disappeared from view into the apartment.
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A smacking ruler.
Something wooden and hard.
She was being punished for being disobedient.
She needed to escape, desperately wanted to be free.
The petite girl cried into her pillow, hugged it tightly against her chest, wishing it were him.
Her orange haired lover.
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The new year would soon be upon them. The last day of this old year, filled with sadness, misery, pain, but with only one glimmer of hope that made everything bearable. She may have only known him for half the year but to her it felt like an eternity.
He was her ray of light just as much as she was his.
Black capri sweats, white chappy tank top, and white low chucks; the petite girl didn't care if anyone saw her. She didn't care if they yelled at her, punished her, threw her out onto the streets, or disowned her. She was sick and tired of living like a prisoner and being treated lower than dirt.
Just this once, she wanted to be free.
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Running.
She ran until her lungs burned as if liquid nitrogen replaced her oxygen.
She ran until her heart felt like it would leap right out of her chest.
She didn't care that she left without a sweater.
Didn't care that it was snowing outside.
The setting sun shone with faded hues of yellow and red, colored like the orange she loved so much. Her shadow growing longer with every sprint, telling her the sun would soon leave, welcoming the night and eventually the new year.
The petite girl desperately wanted to see him but she knew that someone would eventually figure out she had escaped again once they'd knock on her door and get no response. They'd go after her for sure, drag her back home, and force her back into traditional clothes.
They already knew where he lived; she didn't need to provoke her family any further to the point where they'd threaten to do something to him. She stopped running and briefly closed her eyes. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing through her nose, being able to see her own breath. She calmed her racing heart as her chest heaved up and down painfully.
Opening violet eyes, she realized her body led her to the park. The very same neighborhood park where she first met him. Smiling, she hugged herself and watched the setting sun when she felt something warm cover her cold shoulders.
A black slim military jacket covered her small shoulders; the hoodie covering her eyes as she playfully rolled her eyes and took the hoodie off, grasping the jacket securely as big strong arms wrapped themselves around her petite waist. Wild orange locks clouded her vision as sweet kisses made their way down her exposed neck.
She smiled and bathed in the warmth of his touch.
This felt normal.
This felt like freedom.
Her escape.
The petite girl turned around, facing him as she tip toed to gain an inch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in and rested her forehead against his. Cold air turned warm as their breaths mixed together, closing the gap, she tenderly kissed him. Pecking his lips time and time again, they stayed still holding each other, as the orange marmalade sky faded into twilight.
"I want to be with you…" She meekly whispered.
The tall man softly chuckled and nodded, "Forever"
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice, and he kissed her until they forgot it was snowing all around them as the night lights turned on around them.
They stayed together in the park, sitting and talking, holding each other and playing in the snow. Laying on the snow covered ground, they held hands. The swings, the slides, the see-saw – everything was covered under a cold white blanket. They laid there; he watching her as she formed snow angels.
Time passed and not once, did she ever feel cold.
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Countdown.
The end of the old year would soon leave them.
An entire year erased and the start of a new one.
"Rukia" The orange haired young man said as he took her cold hands in his.
His warmth made her feel safe, at ease, and most of all – loved.
10.
A kiss to her cold hands.
9.
A kiss to her forehead and the strand of hair in the middle.
8.
A kiss to her cheeks.
7.
A kiss to her cute nose.
6.
A kiss to her tear filled eyelids.
5.
A kiss to wipe away the hot tears.
4.
A kiss to her dark beautiful short hair.
3.
A kiss to her pink lips.
2.
And another.
1.
And another.
Midnight – a new year.
"Marry me" He firmly said.
Violet eyes widened in disbelief.
"Ichigo…" She whispered as he pulled her in and kissed her deeply.
"Marry me" He said again, sure of his decision, "Start the new year with me" He stated.
A crackle.
A shot.
Bright colors illuminating the dark sky.
Rukia jumped a little at the sound of the fireworks as her heart skipped a beat. Ichigo patiently waited for her answer, the permanent scowl replaced by a nervous unsure look.
Let's be free – just this once.
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Silence.
Long silence passed them as the minutes ticked by of the new year. The streets were filled with distant cheers, happy yelling, bells ringing, and joyous laughter.
"Yes!" She finally answered.
"Yes" Rukia said again as she wrapped her arms around Ichigo's neck and tip toed to reach his lips.
"Yes" She whispered against his lips as he leaned in and kissed her back.
In the coming year, she would turn twenty.
In the coming year, she would leave her strict abusive family.
In the coming year, she would plan her wedding.
In the coming year, she knew she wouldn't be able to wait.
In the coming year, she would be Mrs. Kurosaki.
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Months.
Seasons came and went, changing the weather outside as their lives changed with it.
Rukia and Ichigo – as one.
Together they loved, they laughed, and they shared each other's pain and sorrow.
They shared their happiness, strengths, hopes, and dreams.
One couldn't live without the other.
Walking hand in hand, Rukia held a brown grocery bag against her chest, the simple yet elegant wedding ring sparkled in the setting sun. Ichigo held a plastic grocery bag in his free hand as they passed by the park that held so many memories.
She met him there and he proposed to her there.
Rukia left her family; leaving them with a slight hint of sadness and guilt in her heart for leaving her older brother – Byakuya.
And Ichigo – his family welcomed Rukia with arms wide open. His little sisters Yuzu and Karin accepted her fully, teasing their big brother about having a young wife. Isshin – Ichigo's father constantly got on his nerves for demanding grandchildren but he knew that his old man meant well as he gave Rukia the endearing title of his third daughter.
Gently squeezing her hand, she smiled and squeezed his firmly as they continued to walk home with the setting sun in its hues of yellow and red. Their two long shadows fading and turning into one.
The brilliant orange she loved so much.
Let's be free – just this once, under an orange marmalade sky.
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Done!
I'm a little disappointed that I was unable to upload this by Jan 1st but oh well, better late than never!
If anyone is reading 'Missing' I will be uploading/updating that very soon!
Please look forward to a new fic as well! Hint: Nekojin!Rukia.
A furisode kimono is a kimono most commonly worn by unmarried females as well as used for the Coming of Age celebration when a girl turns twenty.
Remember to R&R! Plz & Thankies! :]
I don't own Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, and all other characters used in this fic.
Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo.
I just own this idea/plot/story/whatever you want to call it~ lol :P