Memories

Rukia Kuchiki remembered the first time they saw each other. It wasn’t her clearest memory, but she remembered. Behind all of the smudges made from time, she could still see the shock on his face when he saw her jump from the sky. The amazement in his eyes when she took down that Hollow. The excitement when she glanced at him. The fear when she gripped her Zanpakto.

She remembered how he kicked her when she entered his room for the first time. How she binded him. How he broke the spell. How she lived in his closet. How they got closer.

She remembered it all vividly. She remembered how they would run to school, and how she would steal him away from class for Soul Reaper business.

Yet, the memory she cherishes most, the memory she kept closest to her heart...

                                                                -------

“Rukia, are you OK?”

She glared at him, blowing a lock of hair from her eyes. “I’m fine, Ichigo,” She said, sarcasm dripping from each word. “My arm’s broken, and I have a sprained ankle, but everything’s fine.”

Ichigo sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I know sarcasm, Rukia,” He said, unrolling his pack of bandages. “You don’t need to use it against me.”

Rukia pouted, her black eyes shooting daggers. Pushing her foot from under the blanket, she muttered, “I don’t owe you anything.”

Ichigo laughed. “Did I ever want you to?”

“Ichigo, this is all your fault.”

“Ouch, that hurts. Why?”

“You’re a Soul Reaper, Ichigo. You have to take better care of everyone around you!”

“So, one person got hurt. No big deal...” Ichigo shrugged, taping the edges of the bandage together.

Rukia slapped her pillow. “What if it wasn’t just me? What if you had also injured some innocent by-standers?” She fumed. “I don’t think you see the importance in this!”

Ichigo sighed, pushing Rukia’s foot back underneath the blanket. “Look, Rukia, it’s bad enough that I had to carry you into my house at 2 in the morning,” He rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb. “Not only will my dad tease me about this for forever, if word gets out, my image will be ruined!”

Rukia crossed her arms, blowing the lock of hair from her eyes. “Yours and mine, Ichigo,” She muttered. “Your peers are vicious. They’ll start spreading untrue rumors, and soon we wouldn’t be able to leave class to take care of a Hollow without a trail of students behind us.”

Ichigo’s lips twitched upwards as he stood. “True,” He said, smoothing a wrinkle from his jeans. “But, why untrue?”

Rukia stared on plainly.

He stepped closer, laying the roll next to Rukia on her nightstand. His hand flicked from the nightstand to her face. Pulling the lock of hair behind her ear, Ichigo muttered, “If it’s true, we won’t have to worry as much, ne?”

Rukia blushed, his hands lightly brushing her cheek. “N-no...”

Ichigo smiled softly—an ability Rukia had never known Ichigo had. Dropping to his knees, he kissed her.

The power of fire and lighting ran through Rukia, a feeling of needing churning in her stomach. Her hand subconsciously grabbing Ichigo’s, pulling him closer, as her other greedily ran across his face.

With the feeling of parting lips, Rukia slowly opened her eyes, her hand tightening her grip on his.

Ichigo smirked slightly before he leaned in again.

                                                                 -------

Of course, Rukia constantly reminded herself of that incident. At school they let on no signs of them being together, yet sometimes the “Hollow alerts” didn’t even involve Hollows.

Breaking her promise to the Soul Society—to herself, even—Rukia had finally became human. Even though she was in a gigai, Rukia had learned and gained human traits.

Rukia Kuchiki had fallen in love.

Feelings were now spiraling through her—misery at a failing grade, excitement at the class trips, pleasure with her friends, and love with Ichigo. Everything was now vivid; clear; alive.

Especially pain.

                                                                 -------

“Why?” Rukia sobbed, her hands gripping the bloody cloth. “Why me?”

Ichigo smiled weakly; softly. “Rukia, don’t be sad. It’s not a good look on you,” He whispered.

“No!” Rukia shouted, startling Ichigo. “Why can’t I be stronger?”

Ichigo closed his eyes, his breathing ragged. His orange hair was sickeningly stained with blood, the same with his clothes. “That’s not the right...word...” He trailed off.

Rukia opened her eyes, vision blurred by tears. “What?”

Ichigo’s lips twitched upwards. “The right word...Why can’t I be stronger? Me, Ichigo. Not you, Rukia.”

Rukia squeezed her eyes together, biting down on her teeth. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on Ichigo’s face. “But...I let you—“

“You warned me, remember?” Ichigo muttered, lifting his finger from Rukia’s lips. “That night...To be careful...”

Rukia gripped tighter, her nails digging deeper into her palm. “But...”

Opening his eyes, Ichigo frowned slightly. His black eyes were distant; cold; unclear; blurry by blood loss and the tears building up at the corner of his eyes. “I wasn’t...Rukia...”

Rukia bit her lip, wishing for the situation to be reversed. “Ichigo...”

He slowly raised a hand, stroking her cheek lightly. Rukia lifted her hands, bleeding from self inflicted wounds, to his hand, and cupped it in hers.

“So one person got hurt...No...big...deal...” He muttered, taking ragged breaths in-between words.

Rukia leaned in for one last rush of love.

For one last memory.