I- Confessions in the Moonlight


"We have to split up," Renji concludes. After following some hollows through an old warehouse, Renji, Chad, Ichigo and I had come to a four-way intersection, unsure of which way to go.
  “Are you sure that’s okay?” Ichigo asks, his eyes instinctively wandering towards me.
                  “Please!” I yell out, a little too loud, “I don’t need you protecting me!!” Ichigo’s face saddens as he looks to the ground, ashamed.  
          “To question a warrior’s strength….” Renji murmurs in disgust.
    “…Sorry…..’ Ichigo mutters, still ashamed.
     “All right!” Renji shouts, shaking it off, “everyone, hands in!”  We all look at him like he’s crazy.
“What?!” He protests, “It’s a soul reaper battle tradition!” With one look at Ichigo I know he’s lying. Ichigo spent a whole week with the eleventh squad. If any squad did that it would be them. None-the-less we all put our hands in.
“Before we part, we hope that we may have strength,” Renji makes up on the spot, “that our blades will be sharp and will not shatter, and that later, on this very spot, we may all be reunited.”
   “Break!” we all yell in unison, heading off in four separate directions.  

                                                       ♥~*~♥

I run straight forward, both arms ready for battle. After all, the whole “let our blades be sharp and not shatter” thing didn’t really apply to me. All I need are my own two fists. The narrow corridor opens t a wide room filled with rubble from the falling-in ceiling. On the opposite side of the room there is a doorway identical to the one I stand in. Except in that one….
“Chad?!” He yells across the expanse of the room.
   “R-Renji?” I ask. We meet in the middle of the room.
“If we both ended up here does that mean that Ichigo and-” He begins.
   “Will end up in the same place?” I finish, “Yeah, probably.” His face contorts into a worried scowl. A huge pressure suddenly crashes down upon us. Renji closes his eyes and grins wickedly.
“Well, I suppose now’s not the time to worry about that,” He resolves, “Ready Chad?”
I grin back.
“Of course.”

                                                        ♥~*~♥

I race down the hall. Although the only reason I’m running is because I can feel the spiritual pressure up ahead. It seems familiar….but I just can’t figure it out. Is it a human? No….a soul reaper?.....a hollow?.......or an arrancar? No. It’s Ichigo. That….ugh! I told him I don’t need protecting!!! So why did he follow me? Wait no, he’s coming from the other way. And he couldn’t have followed my reatsu, when it comes to stuff like that Ichigo sucks. The end of the hallway opens into a vast and empty room, with white-washed walls. Just the color of the walls dredges up bad memories. On the other side of the room stands Ichigo. I walk to him, and he starts explaining how he didn’t follow me here. I ignore his prattling and lean against the wall next to him.
“Ichigo,” I begin, staring intently at my feet, “Why is it that you always insist on protecting me?” He steps in front of me turning so his eyes meet mine. He places one hand on the wall next to my ear. He looks at me sadly, his eyes as if he’d seen centuries of sorrow, although he’s only 16.
“Because,” he chokes out, “last time I failed to protect someone, it cost them their life.” He starts to tremble with silent sobs.
“I-Ichigo,” I grasp his hand pulling him to the ground with me.
  “Not protecting you is harder than you know.” He whispers.
“Ichigo,” I try to console, “would now be the right time for you to tell me your story?” He looks up at me, tears glistening in his eyes, pleading, promising to tell me later. And for a split-second I catch a glimpse of a younger and more vulnerable Ichigo, the way he must of looked at nine, when it had all happened.
“Oh…Ichigo.” I sigh and wrap my arms around him, our foreheads almost touching. His sweet breath mingles with mine.
“Do you-” He begins to whisper.
“Huh?” I question.
  “Do you think,” he sighs, “that you could ever love me, Rukia?” I pull away just enough to see his face. He looks up at me like a sad puppy, no like an innocent little boy, who cannot find his way. I bring my lips to his, so that they slightly brush. He automatically turns red, suddenly intrigued at staring at the palm of his hand.
“If that’s yes you could have just said it.” He mumbles, then looks back to me, ‘If that is a yes.”
“Fool,” I sigh, leaning back to him, “Of course it’s yes.” This time he kisses me, and I kiss him back. And out of the corner of my eye, I see, standing in the doorway, a brown-haired girl with wide eyes. Orihime.