Chapter Text
Renji awoke in the middle of a dark December night, his toes freezing beneath the ratty blanket which was doing its best to keep off the winter chill. Normally he’d just roll over and try to fall back asleep, but he felt unsettled. He gave his eyes a few moments to adjust to the weak moonlight sneaking through the gaps in the roof before sitting up and scanning the room.
The makeshift dormitory for the Hanging Dog orphans offered limited protection from the outside elements, but it was enough to help most of them survive. They had allotted the few bunks and warmer blankets for those that were ill, the rest of them huddling together for warmth on the floor. The older kids had decided long ago that lighting a fire inside was too dangerous and the smoke would be detrimental for those who were sick. So far they had managed to survive the cold, but none of them would call the arrangement ideal.
He scanned the sleeping forms of his friends. Someone was missing. There was a conspicuous gap in the center of their huddle. It was uncommon but not unheard of for someone to slip away in the middle of the night and disappear. The Hanging Dog orphans had an unspoken pact to look out for each other, but their bonds were usually shallow, founded simply on self-preservation. If someone chanced upon an opportunity to improve their standard of living and move to a better district, he or she would simply leave. No one begrudged them their chance at something better; there was an unspoken understanding that any of them would take that opportunity if it came.
Renji used to think like that, too, until she came. Rukia . Something about her had shaken his world, imperceptibly altered his way of looking at life. He had had friends amongst the other orphans, but Rukia had somehow made them a family. Finding food and caring for each other were no longer acts of self-preservation but duties of compassion. Her spiritedness was magnetic, and she pulled them into the vortex of her will until they reshaped their reality through the lense of hope she insisted on looking through. She showed them theirs could be lives worth living, that they were precious to each other, and because she had given them this family, she was the most precious of all.
That was why he felt so unsettled. Rukia was the one missing.
She wouldn’t leave them for something better, would she? She had insisted many times that she would not leave them. Even after the discovery of her incredible spiritual pressure and control, she had promised she had no intention of becoming a Soul Reaper, even though it would guarantee her a warm bed, food, and some level of status. But if she had actually been approached by a recruiter, if she was actually faced with this choice, would she really stay? She had insisted they each had a better future before them. What if hers meant leaving them behind?
Renji could feel his chest constricting at the thought of never seeing her again. He was still just distrustful enough to think she might go back on her word. He couldn’t help expecting it, though his cynicism wouldn’t make it hurt any less if it was true. She had become indispensable and irreplaceable. She was the nucleus of their makeshift family. If she left, their hope would be shattered.
But she had given them no reason to doubt her. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for her current absence. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep without some sort of answer, he got up and picked his way across the cold floor, his years of scraping out survival in this crumbling building helping him avoid the squeaking boards and rusting nails. He made it to the door without disturbing anyone else. He pulled a pair of thick socks from a grungy pile--the best they could get to protect their feet from the snow. They had also converted some of their scavenged blankets into cloaks, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to venture very far into the night. He decided he could do without one for this excursion.
They had taken to propping a large board against the doorway to help the drape which normally served as a door keep out the worst of the winter. Renji noted it had been pushed aside just enough for a Rukia-sized individual to slip through. It could mean any number of things, but he felt very cold, and it wasn’t all from the frosty air seeping into their home. He moved the board away as quietly as he could so he could follow her into the night, sliding it back into place behind him.
It was deep enough into the night for the frost to have a strong grip on the outside world. It was chilly enough for Renji to momentarily regret leaving the cloak inside, but when he spotted the slight difference in texture of the frost on the ground he dismissed his discomfort. There was a trail of footprints heading out into the yard. The route was familiar, and as soon as he saw the direction, he released an unintentional sigh of relief in a billow of steam. He knew where she was.
Rukia liked sitting in the gnarled old tree that was the only semi-living thing in their yard. Renji suspected she just liked that it made her taller than everyone, and also that it gave her a degree of privacy when she needed it. It was such a strange place to hang out that she could sit there for hours without anyone thinking to look for her there. Renji often caught sight of her tucked into the crook of a branch watching them go about their lives with a thoughtful look on her face. She was less guarded in these moments, softer, letting the raging determination of her will fade. She was vulnerable and young. She had barrelled into their lives and given them unstoppable hope, but she also shouldered the burden of that hope. He could see how much energy it required to keep encouraging everyone else, so he let her keep these hours of semi-solitude and left her to her thoughts. She deserved at least that much for all she did for them.
He was inclined to do the same now, satisfied that she was safe, but he lingered for a moment. Rukia was perched in the tree like some strange bird, wrapped up in a cloak so only her head was free to the elements. Her dark hair was covered by a hideous hat he and his friends had pooled their meager savings together to buy for her birthday. It was handmade by a woman barely better off than they were who sold her feeble creations to make some semblance of a living. It was constructed with some strangely colored yarn that was mostly purple but also peppered with oranges and greens and pinks. There was also a touch of sparkles to it, just enough for her eyes to light up when they presented it to her. She wore it every time she went out in the cold. She might even genuinely love it.
Despite the warmth of the hat and the cloak, Rukia’s cheeks were dusted pink from the chilly air. There was still a ghost of a smile on her lips, and her large violet eyes glittered like the frost when it caught the weak moonlight, though her eyelids were drooping with fatigue. She was the image of tranquility. Renji couldn’t help but note how cute she looked, even in that strange hat and ratty cloak. It was like the moment they were fishing in the river at sunset and she got distracted by the flowers floating by in the current. These moments were wholly insignificant, noteworthy only because Renji was caught off guard by how unguarded she was. They were still too young to have any fully formed ideas about love, but he grew suddenly warm and ached in a way that wasn’t physical. He only knew that whatever the future held, he wanted to see Rukia happy like this as much as possible.
But really, she probably shouldn’t be falling asleep perched in a tree in the middle of a winter night. Her eyes were nearly fully closed, eyelids only fluttering half-heartedly as a corner of her brain told her to stay awake. Gravity had pulled her chin down into her chest and the warm folds of the cloak. If she shifted much more, it would pull her down to the frozen earth. It was time to step in before that happened.
“You’ll probably freeze to death if you sleep out here.”
Her eyes snapped open, and she wobbled a bit as the shock woke her up. A teeny tiny part of him was disappointed she didn’t topple out of her perch as she was incredibly difficult to surprise normally, but she also had incredible reflexes. He would have to settle for the momentary look of wild surprise that crossed her face before she realized it was him.
“Renji! What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that. It’s freezing!”
“You should’ve grabbed a cloak, dummy.” Her violet eyes glinted with amusement as she watched him shiver below her.
“Well I’m not crazy and go wandering around in the middle of the night during the winter.”
She just hummed in response and turned her gaze to the moon. He should’ve been annoyed, but it was so rare to have a conversation with Rukia alone that he didn’t want it to be over so quickly, even if he was freezing his butt off. He simply waited for what she would say next.
“What do you suppose the moon is?”
“Huh?” The question was so random he couldn’t think of any other response.
“The moon,” she repeated, glancing down at his bewildered face. “What is it?”
To be honest, Renji had never given it much thought. He knew its name and he knew it came up at night to replace the sun. Beyond that, it wasn’t particularly relevant to his life so he didn’t spare it another thought. Rukia’s question seemed ridiculous.
“It’s just the moon. What else is it supposed to be?”
“But what is it made of? Is it alive? Is it friendly?”
“Wha- Is it friendly ?” He looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. Was the cold making her crazy? “What are you talking about?”
“Someone told me a story once,” she replied softly. “The sun and moon were lovers, a goddess and a god who traveled the skies together, until one day the moon god killed another goddess. The sun was so angry, she refused to share the sky with him, and no matter how hard he tries, the moon can never catch up with her to apologize.”
“Huh.” Renji thought it all rather strange. If the moon really was a god, he thought, he ought to have the ability to trap the sun or catch up to her somehow. He had been under the impression that gods were capable of anything. And why would he travel along the same path every night? It was too ridiculous. But Rukia seemed to be giving it some serious consideration. It was surprising from someone who was normally so down-to-earth.
“Whoever told you that story must have had a great imagination.”
“Maybe…” She looked a little troubled. “I can’t remember who it was.”
They fell silent for a moment, pondering the moon, searching its blotchy surface for some clue as to the truth of its being.
“But what if something like that is true?” Rukia asked suddenly, picking up the idea again. “What if there really are gods governing this world? What does that mean for us?”
“Rukiaaa.” He could practically feel his brain splitting from the idea. “It’s the middle of the night. It’s also freezing . Can’t you do this some other time?”
She looked at him and laughed. There were few things as beautiful as Rukia’s laugh. It almost warmed him up enough to ease the knots she had tied in his brain. She jumped down from her perch and began walking back to the dorm, still chuckling. Renji forced his frozen legs to follower her, looking forward to the warmth indoors.
Right before they ducked inside, Rukia turned to take a final look at the moon. Its light reflected in her eyes and shone on her face, making her skin sparkle like the frost around them. The sight of her took Renji’s breath away. Or it could simply have been the cold.
He couldn’t help sighing through his teeth as they slid the makeshift door closed, relieved to have finally made it out of the sharp cold of the winter.
“Sh!” Rukia hissed.
“It feels like I’m being stabbed with needles all over,” he whimpered quietly. It was a painful price to pay to warm up. He rubbed his arms and legs to speed up the process. Rukia rolled her eyes, but she smirked at his discomfort.
“That’s what you get for being an idiot.”
“ I’m the idiot? You’re the one who was sitting outside in the cold!”
“But I brought the right equipment,” she countered, dropping her cloak onto the pile by the door.
“Whatever.” He shivered. “I’m going to bed.”
He picked his way across the rough floor and between the sleeping bodies to his discarded blanket. He wrapped it tightly around himself and curled up, desperate for what little warmth the covering provided. He tried to ignore his shivering, breath hissing through his chattering teeth, willing himself to relax enough to sleep. He needed to rest and preserve his energy as the usual chores always seemed twice as difficult in the winter. As one of the older kids responsible for more of their needs, it would be difficult for everyone if he got sick.
After a few minutes of struggling and shivering, an extra blanket dropped over him and a warm back lay down against his. He froze, the surprise chasing some of the uncontrollable shakes away.
“Goodnight Renji,” he heard Rukia whisper behind him.
Warmth was leaking through his body. His cheeks felt like they were on fire.
“Goodnight Rukia.”
A few minutes later, they were both asleep.