It Always Comes Back to February
Prompt: 13 - February
Word Count: 2,888
Rating: T
Summary: Rukia never liked Februarys, but after a whirlwind romance with Kuchiki Byakuya, she now hates February more than ever.
Warnings: None, really.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach (sadly). Written for 50scenes on Livejournal.
Well, I embark on the first of my drabbles for Cadence! And here 'tis, a 50scenes drabble that is oddly funny and fluffy and sad. Haha. Well, hope you enjoy:D
Rukia had never liked February.
It was such a bleary, dull month, and it seemed perpetually confused, stuck between winter and spring. There was no snow, nor was there the rain and blossoms that accompanied snow.
That made, in Rukia's opinion, a very dull month that was really quite pointless.
February was symbolized by a steel-grey sky and strong, chilly winds that didn't bite as much as they had in December, or January, but not so warm as the humid, scented breezes of March or April.
Rukia had just thought of February as a month that bided time between the snowy, icy winter wonderland that January brought and the beautiful sakura blossoms that introduced the beginning of spring in March.
February didn't really matter to her, if you got her gist. She acknowledged that February was February, and nothing much else mattered. It was just the month between January and March, the two months that Rukia loved because they were the end of winter and the beginning of spring.
February was...nothing.
Until February one year, her opinion of said month changed drastically forever.
Rukia preferred to think of Kuchiki Byakuya as February, except that he simply wasn't February. He was too commanding, too domineering, and too godammned arrogant to be February, the month of nothing and dullness.
Rukia hated that she couldn't just cast aside Byakuya like she did February; he demanded attention and seemed to effortlessly soak it up, like a sponge.
Women threw themselves at his feet, begging for just one curious glance to send them whirling into indescribable states of bliss and oblivious, until the next time they met and Byakuya regarded the whole lot of them as bits of dirt and nothing more.
All of the shinigami looked up to him, the taichou of the sixth division, his prowess in combat and his thorough training of his bankai known to all. Everyone looked up at him with shining eyes (even Renji) but he just sniffed and continued on his merry way.
…The bastard.
He seemed to treat Rukia in the same away, and Rukia bit her lip and looked away and pretended to ignore this, chanting to herself that Byakuya was February and nothing else, because February was nothing, anyways.
…If that made any sense.
But after Rukia learned of what Byakuya had gone through before she had entered his life, and after he had nearly died on her after taking the cut from Ichimaru Gin that was meant to end her life (except that he didn't dare die on her, the prissy, arrogant, stuck-up bastard), Rukia looked upon Byakuya with newfound respect and she believed that he seemed to acknowledge her just a little bit more.
All in all, this made for some improvement.
The first time Byakuya kissed her (or maybe she had kissed him, the details were blurry), it was at a fete for Yamamoto-genryuusai's hundredth-something birthday. Every single one of the shinigami in the Gotei 13 seemed to be attending, and Rukia felt content to do nothing more than shrink against Byakuya's side and smile artificially at whoever Byakuya turned to address. They had been on a "talking basis", as Rukia dubbed it, for several months now, and Rukia had been amazed to learn more about the sarcastic, odd-sense-of-humor side of the mysterious, cryptic man that was her nii-sama and a respected icon in the shinigami world.
But oddly, that night Rukia's senses seemed to be heightened and aware to an almost hyperactive state. It frightened her, because the slightest brush of Byakuya's hand across her own sent her mind hurtling into incomprehensive states, something that she had never experienced before and she wanted it to stop, dammit, but she also wanted this feeling to last forever.
She hated how he was as cool and as composed as ever, seamlessly gliding from one dignitary in Soul Society to another, his deep, even voice (that Rukia never noticed before, how irresistible it was) exchanging greetings and occasionally asking about business or recent issues. Why wasn't he feeling this awareness of the senses that Rukia was constantly battling?
After dinner, and after a good deal of sake had been served (Rukia only lightly sipped her glass, and she noticed that Byakuya did the same), the band warmed up and the doors to the ballroom were opened wide.
Byakuya looked lazily at her, his eyes almost hooded and casting even more shadows on his indecipherable face. "Would you like to dance?" he asked courteously, extending a hand.
Rukia remembered faintly nodding, until her small hand had settled in the palm of his, and his long, elegant fingers had wrapped around it. He pulled her flush into his body, and Rukia dizzily noted that it seemed as if she fit perfectly into every angle of his body, matching it with hers.
Even though it felt as if she was walking on air, Rukia behaved in a surprisingly levelheaded manner, regurgitating all of the steps she had learned during grueling hours of dance lessons ("Learning to dance is always part of proper Kuchiki etiquette!" her crabby dance instructor had wheezed when Rukia had felt like giving him a good smack upside the head). Byakuya twirled her out, and then back in, and his arms wrapped around her body and she swore that his face was so close that if she had tilted her head up just an inch more, their lips would have met.
Rukia ignored the mean, greedy looks that the other shinigami women were shooting at her (Matsumoto had looked ready to absolutely devour him that night – it was rather scary), concentrating on Byakuya, only Byakuya.
"Shall we go out to the balcony? It's a bit hot in here," Byakuya purred into her ear, and Rukia's breath hitched at the warm breath teasing her sensitive skin and the soft sweep of his hair against her shoulder.
"Okay," Rukia responded, and then proceeded to mentally smack herself at conjuring up such a stupid answer as Byakuya pulled her out one of the large French doors that opened up to one of the several balconies that surrounded the building the celebration was being held in.
Rukia wondered why he had dragged her out to the balcony, of all places, before he shut the door and whirled her around. Her surprised eyes bored into his, and his lips slammed into hers and she moaned and opened her mouth (entirely not on her own accord, as she maintained, ignoring the paradoxical implications the situations held) and threaded her fingers through his hair and mentally grinned upon confirming that it was just as smooth and silky as she had thought it would be.
They broke apart, finally, when breathing became a necessity, and Rukia was secretly delighted as Byakuya pressed his forehead against hers and continued to stare at her with those mesmerizing dark eyes that melted her insides.
"What does this make us?" he asked, and his voice was still husky and rough and it made Rukia feel sweet and soft inside, and that was what she considered an understatement.
"I don't really know," she replied, her voice breathless and fluttery, her heart pounding in her chest, her skin soaking in the warmth that radiated from Byakuya, making her acutely aware of his proximity to her.
"But," she continued in a dry voice, "I think we just destroyed our platonic relationship."
Byakuya's eyes sparkled, almost, as he chuckled and then claimed her lips with his again.
They soon settled into a ritual, and as the nights grew colder, Rukia started sneaking into Byakuya's room and spending her nights tucked against his warm body, or moaning in wanton pleasure as he unashamedly ravished her skin. But more often than not, both of them were content to simply lie together and revel in the feeling of being together, after what Rukia commented was a "rough beginning" and Byakuya interjected and said that he preferred to call it "misunderstandings".
They developed an easy banter that had continued even before the bond of a platonic relationship had been shattered that night, and Rukia found that the best moments she had had with Byakuya seemed to consist of arguing about yet another topic that they had come across, of the illogical reasons they both used to fight dirty and win, and usually, Byakuya surrendered with a laugh and Rukia fell into his arms before he kissed her all over.
Those moments were so carefree, so different from the uptight, imposing, prissy, who-stuck-the-zanpakuto-up-his-ass person that was her first impression of Byakuya. She marveled at it sometimes, about how she never would have imagined these moments occurring before, and Byakuya offhandedly waved it off and said in that lazy voice of his that "times changed" and Rukia rolled her eyes and lightly slapped him on the arm and told him to think of a better cliché. This would then usually result in Byakuya rolling over and kissing her to shut her up and by the time he was done and asked her what she was saying, her mind was so addled that all she could do was stammer incoherently with her eyes glazed over until she finally realized what had happened and accused him of cheating.
Of course, there was no game, but Rukia just liked being able to accuse Byakuya of something. It made her feel powerful, lording over the head of the Kuchiki house and the esteemed Kuchiki-taichou.
The rest of Seireitei eventually grew to accept their rather dysfunctional, but all the same happy, relationship. They received a few odd stares the first time they stepped out together, but a few famous Kuchiki glares from Byakuya set them all in their right place, as Rukia liked to say, reliving those days.
Matsumoto was more than a bit put out by these turn of events, but the last Rukia heard, Hitsugaya-taichou just scoffed at her, raising his eyebrow in that arrogant way (just like Byakuya used to do, now that Rukia thought of it – except, that he still did it and it annoyed Rukia to no end because she couldn't do it) and piling more paperwork on his fukutaichou.
Rukia had visions of a happy future in her mind, of marriage and of living together until they were as old as Yamamoto-genryuusai and perhaps even a family one distant day.
But as all dreams would, hers were horribly bashed one cold, drizzly February day.
It was always back to February, wasn't it?
The final culmination of Aizen's demi-war against Soul Society took place on that particular cold, drizzly day in February. Aizen had supposedly rounded up thousands of Hollows, and coupled with his Arrancar and what was rumored to be all of his Espada, Aizen planned to attack Soul Society and take it over for himself, once and for all.
Ichigo and company arrived in Soul Society once they heard to help out with all the preparations. Unohana-taichou directed her division with a grim face, gathering supplies and making sure that all of the Fourth Division's reiatsu powers were up to par.
Byakuya seemed more stressed than usual, but that was to be expected, and Rukia did what she could to soothe him until that bleak, grey morning, when all of the Gotei 13 stood on high alert in the streets of Seireitei, where Aizen's attack would be concentrated. They held their breath as the sky ripped open and the first Menos Grande stuck its head through, a feral screech echoing through the tense silence.
As the Hollows and Menos Grandes descended in hordes, the shinigami exchanged one last grim look with their comrades (even Zaraki Kenpachi) before springing into action.
Rukia slew Hollow after Hollow with practiced ease, but her mind was whirling back to just the previous night before.
"Tomorrow will be a long day," Rukia remarked, settling under the covers next to Byakuya, seeking comfort by burrowing into his side.
"Mmm," Byakuya remarked, oddly pensive and silent.
Rukia bit her lip, hesitating, before she looked up into Byakuya's eyes. "Promise me you won't die on me." It wasn't a request, but an order.
The familiar light jumped back into his eyes and he smiled at her, running his fingers affectionately through her hair. "I promise."
At last, the fighting seemed to dim a bit, but the once-pristine streets of Seireitei were now covered in the blood of shinigamis, and the wailing of Hollows and Menos Grandes as they dissipated into darkness seemed to be permanently ingrained into Rukia's head. She had acquired an ugly cut on the arm that after a quick stop to the Fourth Division's medical tent, she had had it hastily wrapped up so that at least it didn't hurt as much anymore.
Rukia worried her lip, as she usually did when disconcerted or upset. She hadn't seen Byakuya, or his famed bankai, since the beginning of the fighting, when all of the shinigami had separated and rushed to face various attackers.
Making her way through the dwindling Hollows and Menos Grandes that still descended to fight the battered shinigami that awaited them, Rukia's eyes frantically flicked through all of the faces until she saw an Espada – Ulquiorra!
It wasn't Ulquiorra that caused Rukia to gasp and step back, slightly, but rather, who was battling Ulquiorra.
It was Byakuya.
Rukia felt her throat constrict and she tightened her hold on her zanpakuto, watching as Byakuya and the Espada traded blow after blow, the battle to see which one was stronger.
Byakuya was bleeding from several wounds, and Ulquiorra wasn't exactly looking top-notch either. Both of them seemed worn and weary, and to Rukia, it seemed like the battle would only end when one of them died.
At last, Byakuya used his remaining reiatsu to enter the shuhei, hakuteikan phase of his bankai, the glimmering wings unfurling from his back.
Ulquiorra snorted and made some snide remark, before he unsheathed his zanpakuto and released its bankai.
Byakuya rushed at Ulquiorra, and Rukia felt that she rushed with him as her heart pounded frantically in her chest. The Espada turned, the strikingly green eyes staring right through Byakuya as Senbonzakura buried itself into the Espada's side.
Hatred surged through the Espada, so intense that Rukia could almost feel it herself, and then the scream died on her lips as Ulquiorra raised his zanpakuto and scored it across Byakuya's triumphant body.
The two enemies seemed to fall at the same time, Ulquiorra in a defeated heap, while Byakuya lay there, pale and bloody, but Rukia saw that he was still breathing shallowly.
Rukia forced her legs to move, and she scrambled up the hill until she reached his side. His eyes were open, and his hand lay loosely next to a covered-in-blood Senbonzakura.
Please don't be dead, she prayed, as she laid a trembling hand on his skin that was too cold for comfort.
"Byakuya," she ventured, struggling to hold back the tears that wanted to slide down her face.
His eyes focused on her face and he smiled, almost dreamily. "Rukia…"
"Byakuya," she said again, her voice choking up. "Don't move, stay right there, I'll go get Unohana-taichou—"
"Don't," he said, his weak voice scaring Rukia and the well of hope she harbored diminishing with each moment.
"What do you mean, 'don't'?" she demanded, trying her best to act serious even though all she really wanted to do was collapse over him and cry and tell him not to die.
"Unohana-taichou won't be able to heal that," he said, his voice coming out in soft, rasping breaths. "It's too severe."
Rukia's knees buckled and she slid onto the churned ground, her hands grasping his. "Don't die on me," she murmured, averting her eyes, before swinging her head back to look at Byakuya. "Don't you dare die on me, Kuchiki Byakuya, you—"
"—prissy, arrogant, stuck-up bastard," Byakuya finished, a familiar glimmer of humor creeping back into his eye and he smiled weakly.
Rukia laughed hollowly before the whole surreal situation became too much for her and she pitched forward, burying her face into Byakuya's torn and bloody captain's haori, breathing in his familiar scent through the sweat and blood and letting the first tear drip onto his skin.
"You promised," she said, almost petulantly, her voice muffled in the fabric. "You promised me that you wouldn't die! We were—we were going to go and get married and have children and live to a ripe old age and still argue about Chappy the bunny every day—" her voice broke at that point and she looked up through her tearstained face at Byakuya.
"I'm…sorry…" he murmured, and Rukia was horrified to hear that his voice was growing fainter and his pulse seemed to be slowing down.
"Byakuya!" she cried.
"I love you, Rukia…" were his last words before a sigh escaped his lips and his eyes closed, forever.
Rukia choked on a sob and she buried her face on his chest, smudging his blood on her face, the tears coming full force. The lack of a familiar heartbeat that had beat in time to her own bit at Rukia and she simply lay there and cried, cried for the loss of Kuchiki Byakuya.
He had died on a cold, drizzly day in February.
It always came back to February.
-fin-
A/N: Okay, yes, he really died, I'm sorry! so don't even bother asking me if he's alive.
Um, each drabble is it's own "universe" with it's own events and I most probably won't continue except for some special occasions, and it will be clearly stated that this drabble is a continuation of "this drabble" and such.
But. I hope you enjoyed it, because I wrote it in the time span of oh, two or three hours. -dies- I have definitely been reading too much DracoGinny fanfiction.
I am also taking requests for future drabbles in Cadence! Just request what "prompt" you would like me to write about and any other specifications, and I'll try to address everybody's drabbles. But only ByakuRuki, please, since it is a ByakuRuki drabble collection. ;)
And of course, review!!