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They don’t. Everyone knows it before they do.
In another universe, this is what happens: it’s not something that they consciously decide on, or do on purpose; it’s just that this is something that blossoms so naturally between them that at first, they don’t even realise it for what it is. They have lived together, fought alongside each other, and they know the other person so well that this just seems like a natural extension of their relationship, like breathing, like living. It just is.
So it comes as a surprise one day during a scouting mission when Renji suddenly blurts out, “are you guys dating?”
“What?” They both say at the same time, two faces wearing identical expressions of surprise turning to stare at Renji.
They’re at the edges of Soul Society, where there aren’t even any dirt roads, where endless fields gone wild and overgrown give way to a large forest. There have been enough scattered reports of Hollows lurking in the forest that they’ve decided to check it out. Ichigo tags along, as he usually does anytime Rukia is involved, and he’s been such a frequent visitor to Soul Society that nobody even bothers to comment on it anymore. Every time they send Rukia on a mission now, they automatically assume that Ichigo will come along. Renji doesn’t know how Ichigo finds the time - he’s a busy pre-med student, with a full load of classes, and yet somehow, he’s always there, a constant presence by Rukai’s side, and honestly, Renji’s surprised that they’re surprised by his question.
“We’re not - we’re, that is, I mean - ” It should be amusing that this is all it takes to reduce Ichigo to a babbling idiot, but Renji more or less expected this from him. In some ways, Ichigo’s still that naive, clueless teenager, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.
Rukia’s far more composed as she says calmly, “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really. Because, you know, it ain’t just me wonderin’.” Renji stares at them, one skeptical eyebrow lifted, and Rukia stares back, poker-faced.
Even how they’re sitting is a dead giveaway: Renji’s resting under the shade of his own tree, and it’s a goddamn forest right, there are enough trees to go around that they don’t have to share, and yet the two of them are sitting side-by-side under another tree, their shoulders pressed against each other like they’re conjoined, passing a bottle of water back and forth between them. Exactly why they don’t each have their own bottle isn’t something that Renji bothers to ask. And they have the nerve to look surprised?
“Really,” Rukia says, and because Renji’s known her almost his whole life, he also knows when she’s lying, and this time, she’s not. They’re really not lying when they tell him they have no idea how’s he’s gotten the impression that they’re dating.
“But you’re-” Renji makes a vague hand gesture in their general direction and they look at him like he’s crazy.
“And you’re-” he points at the bottle, now in Rukia’s hand, and she looks down at it, puzzled, before staring at him like he’s grown a second head.
“And, and...” he trails off sadly when Ichigo cuts him off and starts talking loudly about heat stroke, and how one of the symptoms is confusion and disorientation.
Ichigo ends by saying dismissively, “maybe you should head back to Soul Society, Renji, you’re clearly delusional. That can happen you know, sunstroke can affect weaker individuals quite badly. We can carry on without you.”
All Renji hears is a challenge and he draws Zabimaru at once, eyes flashing. “Try me, ya lil’ jerk,” he says, and that pretty much kills the conversation right there and then.
They don’t give any more thought to Renji’s questions after that. They’re close, they always have been since the moment Rukia stepped into his life, and personal boundaries isn’t something that they draw between them since that time when Rukia spent months living in his closet. Ichigo knows how Rukia’s breathing changes when she falls asleep, the little noises she makes when she dreams, and it never once strikes him as strange that she is the only person that he knows such intimate details about.
Rukia comes to visit him in the Living World every time she’s there for a mission, and usually he’s not in when she drops by his apartment. He knows when she’s here though - he’s shit at sensing reiatsu, but he never has problems identifying hers. She crashes at his once or twice after she finishes a long mission, when she lacks the energy to open the gates.
Then one time, he comes back after a night class to find her sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes. Whatever mission it was hasn’t gone well - there are cuts all over her face that she hasn’t had the spare energy to heal, and the sheets smell like smoke and ash, but her sleeping face is soft and unguarded. Something twists like a knife in his chest, and he hates that he wasn’t there, that he couldn’t prevent this. He stands there for a long moment watching her sleep, fighting down the urge to go out and kill something, and then she stirs and sleepily says, “Ichigo?”
“Yeah,” he says gruffly, and then before he knows it he’s pulling back the covers and sliding into the bed next to her, and she’s automatically shifting over as if they’ve done this a hundred times before.
“Go back to sleep,” he says, drawing up the blankets and slipping an arm protectively over her waist, and she’s tired enough that she does.
They don’t talk about it in the morning, but the memory of his body curled around hers is something that either of them forgets. It just becomes part of their unsaid thing, something else that they do: them sharing a bed, him holding her throughout the night.
Gradually, their routine settles into something like this: Ichigo visits Soul Society every weekend, and when he does, Rukia shifts back into her old rooms at the Kuchiki manor, and he takes the guest rooms right beside hers, and at night they slide open the dividing walls and turn their separate spaces into one large room.
Byakuya has long ago given up on snarkily pointing out that Ichigo has his own relatives that he could stay with in Soul Society, and has grudgingly accepted the intrusion once he realised that they come as a matched set, and that if he wants to see Rukia, he’ll have to put up with the annoying carrot-top permanently attached to her side.
It’s automatic, this thing. When Rukia isn’t off on a mission, the household staff prepare the rooms every Friday morning, and every Friday evening Ichigo comes and they have dinner with Byakuya and Renji. Every Saturday they visit the Shiba clan and drink until dinner, then make their slow, drunken way back to the Kuchiki manor under the stars. It’s nice, what they have, and Ichigo doesn’t question it, until he does.
It’s a night just like any other Saturday night. Kukaku breaks out the good sake and they drink until they’re both smashed off their faces, stumbling back in the dark, and Rukia’s humming softly to herself, old childhood songs that he doesn’t recognise, and he looks over just as she trips. It’s instinctive - he immediately reaches out to steady her, his hands warm on her shoulders, and she leans in close until she’s practically in his arms and says, “don’t tell anyone, it’s embarrassing to see a captain drunk.”
There are stars tangled in her hair and her laugh is a warm thing that wraps itself around him. “Your secret is safe with me,” Ichigo says, then dips his head to kiss her. The way her mouth shapes itself against his feels so natural that he doesn’t even think about what they’re doing, just enjoys the press of her lips against his, the little soft sounds that she makes as he slides his tongue into her mouth.
It’s only when she says his name that his brain comes back online and he realises that his arms are wrapped around her and pulling her tight against him, and she’s holding a fistful of his uniform from tugging him down to kiss him back. Ichigo stares dumbly down at her, and Rukia’s got an equally blank look on her face as she looks back at him.
“Erm,” he begins, and then stops, because what is he supposed to say, exactly? He’s drunk, but he isn’t that drunk, and he was aware of what he was doing and still did it anyway because it felt natural, because he couldn’t think of a reason why they hadn’t been doing this sooner. At the back of his mind he’s wondering when he missed all the signs for this.
“Huh,” is all Rukia says, and he realises that he’s still holding her, and it feels right. She feels like she has always belonged here, in his arms. He doesn’t step back. She doesn’t pull away.
“Right, so, yeah,” Ichigo says, and if anything tips him over the edge it’s this, the way she looks up at him, open and trusting, and he can’t help himself as he kisses her again. She kisses him back, and his hands are tangled in her hair as he explores her mouth, tries to tell her with his tongue and his lips what he feels but doesn’t know how to put into words.
“Yeah,” Rukia echoes faintly when they finally part, and she sounds breathless. Ichigo can’t resist the smirk that creeps onto his face, knowing that he did that, and she responds by pinching him. “Don’t get smug over one kiss.”
“I’m not,” he says, still smirking, and she rolls her eyes.
“I guess Renji was right after all,” she murmurs, and that wipes the smirk right off his face because goddamnit, of all people, how did Renji know before he did?
“We’re not going to tell Renji that,” he says, still holding her. Then he thinks for a second and says decisively, “and anyway, it isn't official until I take you on a date.”
They go on a date. Ichigo brings her to a movie and buys her popcorn and they hold hands the entire time, and she’s entranced by the novelty of it all.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner,” Rukia says, as they walk out of the movie theatre into the bright afternoon sunshine, and he’s not sure if he’s dazzled by the light or by her smile.
“Because I’m an idiot?” he says, and means it. He’s a dumbass for taking this long when all this was within easy reach, when all he had to do just reach out and touch her.
“Finally! I’ve been telling everyone that for years!” She laughs at him, teasing, and he reaches out and pulls her close.
"I'm your idiot," he says softly, and her answering smile as she tugs him down into a kiss makes his heart beat painfully with joy.
Then the next weekend, Byakuya sits them both down for tea and asks him what his intentions are towards Rukia.
“My intentions?” Ichigo says blankly, as Rukia chokes on her tea. “I - er - I love her?”
“Yes, I already know that,” Byakuya says impatiently, “despite your extreme lack of courtesy in duly informing me as the head of the household. Now. You’ve been dating for a while, and our families have yet to be formally introduced. This is not proper.”
“Er,” Ichigo says, “actually... we just started dating.”
Byakuya stares at him. “...what?” he says finally, and there’s a dangerous note in his voice. “Do you mean to say that you’ve been taking advantage of my sister all this time without the intention of making her a formal offer?”
“No! There has been no advantage taking of any sort!” Ichigo does not miss the way that Byakuya’s fingers dance on Senbonzakura’s hilt, but Byakuya hasn’t murdered him yet, so he talks quickly. “We never did anything, we were just friends all this time, and I never realised how I felt about Rukia until recently because... because I’m an idiot?” He offers, shrugging helplessly.
“Well, that I did know,” and although Byakuya’s eyes narrow, he sets down Senbonzakura, and they heave a small sigh of relief. Then he frowns. “Kurosaki Isshin referred to Rukia as his third daughter. Wasn’t this years ago?”
“Yeah, turns out everyone knew before we did,” Ichigo says, running a hand through his hair ruefully, and Byakuya actually snorts and looks at Rukia, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.
She nods. “I’m afraid so, nii-sama.”
“Well, then,” Byakuya says, sounding unhappy, “I suppose you’ll have to make your mistakes first before you can learn from it. I will inform the elders that we will discuss the formal introduction of the families at a later date.” He collects his sword and gets to his feet, and sweeps out of the room in rustle of expensive silk before Ichigo has time to realise that he’s just been insulted.
“Hey!” He says indignantly to thin air, and Rukia pinches him.
“Quiet, you fool,” she says, “Nii-sama has just given us his blessing.”
“‘Blessing’ might be a bit of a stretch,” Ichigo mutters, and she pinches him again.
“Just be grateful that nii-sama hasn’t tried to kill you.”
“Yet. He hasn’t tried to kill me yet,” Ichigo says, and she’s laughing as he pulls her into his arms. “Even if he did, it’s worth it,” he says softly, right before he kisses her, “you’re worth every bit of it.”
The light is no mystery,
the mystery is that there is something to keep the light
from passing through.
Richard Siken, Visible World