"So, what do you think, Rukia? …Rukia?" Renji turns around when Rukia doesn't answer, only to find himself alone. He glances around in puzzlement before looking up and finally catching sight of her. Rukia remains at the top of the muddy bank above Renji, face turned away from him. Her chin is tilted toward the sky—a swirling infuscation of orange and purple as afternoon bleeds into evening above her—slender arms folded across her chest. She startles at the sound of his voice, and then blinks down upon him as though just remembering he was there.

"Oh! Sorry."

"Get your head out of the clouds, willya?" Renji says, gesturing down into the murky water with his pike. "You want to eat, right?"

"Yes, of course," Rukia says distantly, and Renji frowns.

"Well, get a move on it." Something twists at the pensive state of her. Silhouetted against the sky like that, wind ruffling her hair, she looks so wistful, so lost. Renji wonders, as he has wondered many times before, just what Rukia is thinking. He watches her kick off her shoes and make her way awkwardly down the bank, wincing every time cold mud squishes between her toes. She gives a tiny gasp when her feet touch the icy water.

"A real bitch, huh?"

Rukia nods as she rubs her arms absently, trying to soothe away the goose bumps. Renji watches her for a moment, marvels at how something so tiny and frail-looking can prove to be so resilient. The mood is a somber one tonight—they're the last ones left.

"What are you looking at?" the dark-haired girl demands, and she sounds more like Rukia now. Renji exhales in relief before fixing her with a crooked grin.

"Yer ugly mug."

"I may be small, but don't think that doesn't mean I can't kick your ass, Renji," she tells him crossly, and as though to prove a point, she lashes out with those tiny hands and grabs a fistful of his tattered rags. Renji looks down to where she grasps him, lifts an eyebrow at her.

"Rukia, what are you going to do? I bet you don't even weigh seventy pounds. A fierce enough breeze could knock you over." He's not exactly that big himself; he's still more boy than man, but he's taller, sturdier. Her fist is like a tiny cupcake when she punches him.

"See? I'm invulnerable."

And then suddenly she throws her full weight into him, and he's sent reeling backwards through the air. His pike goes flying as both hands flail uselessly, and Renji cries out in surprise as he falls flat on his ass in the river. The backsplash it produces reaches Rukia, who shrieks as the icy water drenches her.

Renji groans: there's sand in his shorts. He reaches around blindly in the water, frowns as he's unable to locate his pike. "Great job, Rukia," he grumbles, getting awkwardly to his feet and trying to shake the water droplets off in a manner not unlike a stray dog's. "There goes our means of finding food."

"I wasn't that hungry anyway," Rukia huffs, before the corners of her mouth begin to tug upward in a wry smile.

"What?"

"You've got a water-lily on your head." She snaps her fingers at him and he obligingly leans forward. Even then, she has to stand up on her tippy-toes to reach him. His whole body tingles as her nails gently rake across his scalp, pulling the flower free from his scarlet ponytail.

"There."

When he straightens, Rukia is not longer looking at him; she's staring down at the sodden lily in her hands fondly, wistfully. Something about those dark, sparkly eyes, and the oncoming twilight makes him suddenly want to kiss her, and Renji has never been any good with impulse control, so he does. She makes a questioning noise in the back of her throat when he gathers her hands into his own, ducking down and kissing the space in-between her fingers where the rivulets of water trickle through. It's hardly sanitary, but Rukia shivers anyway.

"You cold?"

When her eyes meet his own, he's surprised at the half-lidded intensity he finds there. He wonders ifhis own desire is as plainly evident, scrawled across the planes of his boyish face.

"Let's go home, Renji," Rukia says quietly, and Renji nods. Daringly, he slings one arm across her shoulder, anchoring her against him; for once Rukia leans into him instead of swatting him, and the two of them make their way back up the bank together.