Untitled

A Bleach One-Shot

by Langus

--

Note: This scene takes place during manga chapter 237 "Good Bye, Halcyon Days", in the hours before Inoue Orihime's arrival.

--

She'd left the window open as an after thought. A light breeze wafted through it now and sent goose bumps rippling up her arms. Outside, the night was quiet. A steady hum of cars drifted up from the street. The city slept so peacefully, as though what'd happened earlier that day had never happened at all. She wished that were the case.

Rukia frowned and breathed out a weighted sigh. Her fingers tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear while her eyes lingered on Ichigo's chest. She'd only just finished re-wrapping his wounds and blood was already seeping through in a few places. It was taking longer than normal for him to heal, a thought which had her nibbling at her lower lip with worry.

Her fingertips ghosted across the wrappings on his shattered hand. She'd done her best but it wasn't enough. Hachi's words continued to haunt her – "There is a chance," he'd warned, "that he may never hold a sword again."

It didn't seem possible. She couldn't picture Ichigo without his zanpaktou. Since that first night, when their souls had connected through the tip of her zanpaktou, it'd been a part of him; an extra limb that was always present, like a hand or a foot. Ichigo and Zangetsu, they were two halves of the same whole. One simply couldn't exist without the other.

That was what made Hachi's words feel so ominous. They were the reason why her stomach was churning with worry. A quiet voice inside her mind whispered what she already knew to be true - it was her fault. If only she'd arrived sooner… If only she'd been stronger… If only she hadn't underestimated that arrancar… Her mind was filled with 'if only's and regrets. She looked down helplessly at her hands and fisted them atop her thighs. Damn him. He always left her feeling so useless.

"Ichigo, you big idiot," she chided softly. "You're too reckless."

He'd been sleeping since they brought him back in pieces. He couldn't keep going like this – diving head first into every fight without any control over his own power or any knowledge of the enemy's strengths. It was reckless and irresponsible of him and it was tearing her apart, piece by piece.

She could feel herself starting to unravel. It'd been decades since that rain-filled night when she'd held Kaien-dono's body in her arms. Yet every time she felt Ichigo's blood on her hands or wrapped a fresh set of wounds, it came rushing back like it'd happened only yesterday. It made her heart clench inside her chest. It made her lungs burn when she tried to breathe. It made her fingertips tremble as she wrapped gauze over the various gouges carved into his flesh. She couldn't keep going like this either.

Realizing that there was nothing else she could do to help, she packed up what was left of the bandages. Her eyes made one last sweep across his sleeping form before she made a move to stand. She should be out there trying to find information on the arrancar, or the vizards, so that next time they'd be better prepared, not moping about his room like some lost puppy. A stirring from the bed caught her attention.

"Rukia…" His voice sounded hoarse from lack of use.

"I thought you were asleep," she commented, betraying none of the worry that made her throat tight.

He groaned while his brow furrowed. She noted the way his hand trembled as he tried to shift his weight to look at her. The pain had to be excruciating. There hadn't been an opportunity to give him anything for it earlier.

"Do you want something for the pain?" she asked, already reaching for the bottle of pills on his bedside table. Typical stubborn idiot that he was, he shook his head 'No'. Slowly his eyes opened and drifted until they met hers. They were glassy and unfocused. He was conscious, but just barely.

"Are you leaving?"

This time it was her brow that furrowed. His words were wounded and filled with fear. His vulnerability caught her off guard. This scared boy staring up at her from the bed wasn't the same man who'd saved her life mere months ago. Where was his suffocating ego? Where was that cocky smile that annoyed her so much? She found herself missing it... Missing him.

Before she had time to over think it, she was seated on his bed once more, offering him a patient smile. "I'll stay a little while longer."

The tension seemed to evaporate out of his body with his next breath. She watched as the frown lines along his forehead and mouth relaxed. It wasn't long before his breaths returned to the even rhythm of a deep, dreamless sleep.

She didn't have to stay, she knew that, but she would. He needed her, and that was reason enough. Her eyes fell to the spot where his hand remained loosely wrapped around her wrist and a smile lingered on her lips.

It seemed she'd managed to help after all.