15Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Summary: Their lives. He's haunted by his past; she's made peace with hers.
Author's notes: I'm sorry for the long delay, but I guess you guys pretty much get the gist, right? ^^;
Warning: HEAVY fleeting moments of nostalgia. Beware.
Chapter Four: Their Lives, Now
Aqua green eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the dimly lit surroundings. Instinctively, he turned his head to his left, and the first sight that entered his retinas was the sight of long, tousled dark raven hair splayed over complete whiteness of the sheets. It was her, his beloved. The small figure enveloped by the white bedspread was quiet, with only the soundless, steady breathing of her heart the only movement provided.
He took a deep breath, careful not to make even the smallest noise as he inched closer towards the small resting form of his fiancée, gliding skillfully underneath the coverlets. He did not wish to wake her up, because he loved the even tempo of her breathing while she was asleep. Very carefully, he positioned his frame so that it will remain out of her line of sight, one strong arm set down to support his upper body from crushing the petite woman in front of him. When he felt that his position was right and comfortable, he peered over to watch her sleeping face.
What he saw momentarily stopped his breathing; deep, intense violets stared right into his cooling aqua greens, watchful of his every move. A knowing smile danced on her cherry lips, he found his air again. She was already awake.
"What were you doing?" she asked; her voice hushed, but still audible. It was laced both with fleeting curiosity and placid sleepiness, the fatigue from her demanding work hours, and their previous lovemaking sessions still very much evident. It was Kaien's turn to smile, but impishly. "Nothing," was all that he said, his voice but a tender whisper.
"Nothing?" she questioned again, still in a hushed manner; but this time the sentence sounded even less like a question. To this, Kaien said nothing in reply, but let his big, warm hands reach for her tiny frame. He grasped her exposed shoulders gently, moving her so she would now lie facing him. He wanted to see those enchanting orbs in its fullness, so that he could drown in the intensity of them and hope to never be saved.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his large hands tracing the contours of her lovely face, leaving ghostly touches on her porcelain skin. She closed her eyes, shivering slightly at his ministrations, relishing in the contact of his warmth against her icy skin. She felt Kaien caressing her cheeks, his thumb and index finger occasionally twiddling the lobe of her ears.
"Rukia," he was murmuring again. Rukia didn't open her eyes; instead there was a smile on her face as she let herself concentrate in Kaien's movements on her. Kaien looked at her, a sly smile playing across his lips. Cupping both her cheeks, he tilted her face upwards. Their lips met at the softest of touches, barely brushing. They kissed for a little while, their lips seeking out one another in a slow, passionate dance. Rukia's thin arms involuntarily snaked to the back of Kaien's neck, her fingers now helplessly lost in locks of wild, spiky raven hair.
"I love you," he whispered to her ear, once their mouth was no longer on each other's. Rukia stared at him, her purple irises boring deep into the ends of his aqua green pools. He was so gorgeous. She shifted her body a little, and planted a chaste kiss on Kaien's lips. Her tiny hands found his angular jaw, the index barely brushing his lower lip.
"I know," she answered finally, as Kaien just watched her. "I love you too."
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His sun-kissed orange locks waltzed noiselessly, following a soundless rhythm, as the first morning breeze of the day brushed against his bare skin through the wide open window. It was only seven on a Saturday morning, and yet Ichigo was already up, freshly awaken from his slumber. The spacious balcony of his condominium unit provided an amazing view of the world beneath him – he could see the whole span of the city he lived in, and even make out some of the early birds that were already up and about. Some were walking their dogs, while others were out to buy breakfast. Ichigo retracted his gaze from the city streets, and guided his eyes to the faraway distance, staring at the sky and hovering clouds that decorated the Heavens.
He wondered briefly what Rukia would be doing at the moment; picturing her cute little pout on her beautiful face when he told her specifically not to get onto his bed, and how his pajama top had looked like it would consume her whole as she insisted to invade his bed anyway (with him only in his pajama bottoms too). It was not long until the image of a certain spiky, raven-haired male suddenly intruded his imaginary apparition, replacing the picture of what was his past with the now, the eyebrows of the raven-haired stranger drawn together in silent arrogance.
He shut his eyes instinctively, his mind trying its best to protect what was left of what used to be, while his heart hammered painfully away in his chest. Ichigo found himself clenching both of his fists unconsciously then, knuckles turned almost white. He heaved a heavy sigh, and shook his head slowly in resignation. Opening his eyes once again, he tore his gaze from the skies outside, making his way back to his unmade bed. A thin, silver-coloured electronic device lay against his cylinder-shaped bedside table, barely catching his attention.
Ichigo sauntered across the carpeted floor, one hand stretching out lazily to reach the device. There was the shape of a letter, with the digit two flashing next to the image on the screen. One was from Yuzu, his youngest sister, asking about whether he'd come over to the family home (their old house, his sisters and the moron with goatee still lives there) today for the usual, weekly family grocery shopping.
Ichigo scowled, but quickly typed a short message informing Yuzu that he would definitely come over so that neither of them would have to put up with their old man's antics. Ichigo sighed. He knew Yuzu won't mind, though she might start to flood his inbox and mails with frequent reminders to remind him to have his upcoming weekend free . . . ah, blame it on her overly-maternal instinct.
As for Karin, well let's just say that she'll start with ruining his life by creating multiple, obviously fake accounts under his name again in a dozen homosexual-based find-your-soul mate websites, which will also feature photo shopped photos of him wearing only a pair of orange-colored underpants with the caption, "I love womanly men."
Ichigo only discovered his tomboy sister's evil side when a gay guy who works as a clerk at the pet store where he used to temporarily work asked him out. Luckily, Rukia was there to save his at-the-moment extremely bewildered butt. A grin almost grew on his lips as he recalled how she had just waltzed in into the pet store not knowing how big a heroine she had been that day.
The other one came from Keigo, which was not entirely unexpected. He's kept up a steady line of texts to Ichigo, many of which were either too stupid or too crazy for Ichigo to really care about (doesn't the guy have even the slightest speck of a serious bone?). There are also the occasional, so-called important relationship advices from 'Dr. K. Love' – as Keigo puts it. Ichigo absent-mindedly wondered where that weird name even came from, but stopped short at Keigo's text. It seemed as if Dr. K. Love has just bestowed upon him an important relationship tip.
"Yoooo, Ichigoooo!" The guy sounded just like the Karakura High Keigo. To this, Ichigo scowled, the memories of the old days come to life in his head; the most vivid was their group lunches on top of the school roof every afternoon. It was them together: him, the other boys and one pocket-size midget whose respected seat was reserved to be right next to him.
He remembered everything: Keigo yapping away about how Rukia was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, Mizuiro casually adding to Keigo's depression about not having a girlfriend (and informing everyone about his series of outings with older women), Ishida quietly munching on his bento that he prepared by himself, Chad just being him and eating his food, and the warmth that radiated from Rukia who sat beside him.
.
.
"Ichigo."
"What, midget? I'm trying to have my lunch."
"Help me open this."
Rukia held out her juice box to him, a seriously grave expression painted on her face. Ichigo scowled.
"You seriously can't do this on your own, right?" Ichigo replied as he took the juice box away from her tiny hand. Rukia only rolled her eyes.
"Can too. I'm just offering you to do a favor since you're always scowling," the midget answered casually.
"Yeah, and then maybe freaking Buddha will reward me with a handsome smile," muttered Ichigo.
"Maybe."
"Where's the straw?"
"I don't have it."
Ichigo stared at her. "What do you mean, 'you don't have it'? Did you lost it?"
"Maybe. Just open it up for me. I'm thirsty."
Ichigo snorted, and crossed his arms.
"Then you'll stay thirsty. I'm eating lunch, I do-ow!"
Rukia gave a malicious smile, satisfied with the punch she landed in his exposed side.
"Fine fine, evil midget witch. I'll open it up for you."
"I thought so."
Ichigo scowled at this, but returned her juice box anyway.
"Here you go."
"Thank you, Ichigo."
She took a quick sip of the fruit juice, her lips curved into a grateful smile. Ichigo grinned in return.
"No problem, but don't you lose MY drinking straw now, midget."
.
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The next few lines of the message zapped him back to the present, and he found his eyes blinking a few times just to make sure: "Seen the new mag I mailed to you yet? There's Kuchiki in front of it. And don't throw away the mag this time, it was expensive! I BOUGHT IT FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE STUBBORN AND I'M A GO-"
The bedroom door flew open in a flash (no, he can't shunpo). Ichigo's tall figure loomed over his mailbox seconds later; his upper body slightly hunched forward, hands eager to retrieve the big bulk that was his mail. He brought them all inside and laid them on top of the low table in the living room. There was a huge pile of old letters, all of which the envelopes have yellowed. Discarding those aside, Ichigo quickly fished for a transparent plastic case containing the magazine which was supposedly mailed by Keigo from Thailand to him.
The magazine was slightly thicker than the month's copy of Architectural Lens, the architectural-based publication that he was featured in. Ichigo felt a rush of excitement surging in his veins, as the rate of his heartbeat silently doubled. He turned the magazine over carefully, his fingers shaking slightly from the excitement. The Kuchiki, no, the Rukia he saw on the front cover almost stole his breath.
It was Rukia in a bright yellow dress; the silky material that was the cloth accentuated her extremely attractive form, sending a throbbing sensation throughout his body. Her dark hair was set loose; the single strand of lush ebony decorated the center of her forehead. She'd formed her perfectly-shaped lips into a lovely smile, and Ichigo noticed she'd also applied glossy lip balm which glitters to the contours of her luscious lips.
"It's probably strawberry."
The thought was abrupt, purely intuitive. He didn't know if he guessed right, but right now that didn't matter. What mattered was that she loved the flavor, and the fact that he remembered.
He remembered that he had bought one for her way back when they were still just high school students, with the miniscule paycheck he received from working part-time. It wasn't expensive, but he'd had it nicely wrapped in colored paper as a surprise birthday present. He had pretended that he'd forgotten all about her birthday, choosing to hang out with his other guy friends instead of celebrating her birthday with her; just the two of them, like they always did, every single year.
She had sulked when he purposely appeared to be ignorant about the very special date, even going as far as asking her 'what was the big deal with January 14th'. She'd stomped on his feet (with a force so powerful Ichigo was forced to walk really slowly when walking for three whole days) and had stormed out of his room without another word. He didn't went to see her at her house until later that day, knowing better than to disturb a Kuchiki turned fiendish. Even for midget-sized Rukia, she can still compare to a monster when she's angry. He'd found her laying quietly on top of her bed in her bedroom, surrounded by lots of soft toys from her childhood, all neatly lined up. Her tiny hands were clutching her favorite plush, Chappy the Bunny.
He boldly sat next to her on her bed, looking at her frozen face. She didn't budge at the additional, unwelcomed weight pressing her bed. Ichigo frowned. He didn't think she'd be this affected by his harmless little joke. At other times, she would have normally hit him on his head, telling him to get off off her bed. Trying to fish a response, Ichigo gently touched her hand.
.
.
"What do you want, Kurosaki Ichigo?" thundered the petite resting form. Ichigo winced at her cold, unfriendly tone she had just used.
"I didn't mean it to be like this, Rukia," replied Ichigo bluntly, seriously. Rukia didn't open her eyes, but opened her mouth to speak.
"It hurts, you know."
Ichigo felt a piercing pain at the back of his throat. His stomach felt sick as he fumbled for the right words to say.
"Wish me 'Happy Birthday', idiot," Rukia continued slowly, her voice dreary. She had finally opened her eyes.
"And quick," she urged. Ichigo tried to speak out, but his voice refused to come out. Realizing this, Rukia let her small hand rest on his arm.
Familiar warmth spread like fire across his skin. Ichigo stared at her.
". . . I'm sorry," his voice croaked finally.
Rukia nodded, a half-smile plastered across her face. "And?"
"Happy birthday, Rukia. This is for you."
And the birthday girl smiled her widest.
.
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For a moment his mind was in a blank state, but as he plopped himself on top of the couch his train of thoughts gradually returned to him.
"So she's an ad model now, eh?" he mumbled to the open space before him. He allowed himself a long breath, eyes still fixed to the cover page version of Rukia. Her smile was full of energy and her violet orbs shone brilliantly. Personally, Ichigo thought that she looked nothing less than breathtaking. Yeah, as if that isn't already always the case for him (not his fault that he finds her beauty otherworldly).
Rukia has always been able to punch him in the gut and plant solid kicks at his shins (which can be lethal, no joke), and more than anyone else Ichigo knows that she hates thick makeup; says it's unnatural and stuff – but look at her now. Who would've ever thought of a model Rukia having her own cover page? Shaking his head and slightly grinning, Ichigo stood on his feet. He needed to get ready for his activities today.
His sisters are waiting for him, and he certainly wouldn't want to get on Karin's bad side – not unless he can help it. Womanly men really aren't his cup of tea, after all.
Author's thanks: Thanks for reading people! I know, I take ages to post my next update, but my creativity takes quite some time to be shaped into meaningful, coherent sentences. XD