Work Text:
Rukia looked in the mirror and huffed out an annoyed breath. Her shihakusho no longer fit despite her best efforts to rearrange the fabric and tie the belt as loosely as she could. The black fabric gaped open around her distended abdomen, exposing her pale skin. The haori was no better: though it still draped nicely enough over her arms, the white fabric was too narrow to cover her swollen stomach.
“Rukia, are you ready? We’re going to be late for the captain and lieutenant’s meeting,” Ichigo called. When she just stared into the mirror and didn’t respond, he slipped back into their bedroom and looked at her. “Rukia?”
To her shame, her eyes started to sting and Rukia turned to look at him, trying to cover up her stomach with the too-small haori. “My clothes are too small,” she mumbled at him. “I can’t go anywhere like this. I’m – I’m huge.”
Ichigo smiled gently at her, amber eyes soft as they met hers, and crossed the distance between them to tug her close to him. “You’re not huge, you’re almost nine months pregnant,” he reminded her. He kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her back in slow circles.
“Oh – keep doing that, that feels good,” Rukia hissed out. She had to turn to rest her head on his chest. “But I’m still too big for my clothes.”
Ichigo kept his hand on her back while the other reached down to rest on her belly. “Most shinigami don’t need maternity clothes, I guess.”
Rukia let out a wet laugh into the fabric of his uniform. “No, I guess they don’t,” she agreed.
“Hey – hey, are you crying?” Ichigo demanded, and pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. “Come on, it’s just fabric. You have black yukatas; you can wear one of those and we’ll get new uniforms for you after the meeting.” He rubbed the small of her back more firmly. “It’ll be fine.”
“But I’m just – oh…keep doing that,” Rukia repeated and pushed back against his hand. “I overheard what some of the other women in the noble houses were calling me. ‘Round as a pumpkin with sticks for arms.’”
He scoffed openly and tucked her closer. “That’s not true,” Ichigo said roughly, and tipped her chin up so that he could lean down and kiss her. “That’s not what I see at all.”
“Mmph…idiot, you’re biased,” Rukia accused when their lips parted, although her cheeks were pink. “They’re right, I look like I swallowed a melon.”
“You don’t know how good you look to me.” Ichigo paused to kiss his way down her neck. “And anyway, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, Zangetsu and I will make them regret it.”
That startled a laugh out of Rukia, and she pressed back against him as his mouth found the join of her shoulder and neck. “You can’t just stab anyone who insults me,” she protested. “You’re a lieutenant now, you have to follow our laws.”
“Hmph. Captain-Commander’s falling all over himself to make sure you don’t overextend yourself, and Byakuya threatened dismemberment if anyone touches a hair on your head,” Ichigo retorted. “That includes self-important noblewomen.” His hand brushed over her stomach again and he huffed into her skin. “I think she just kicked me.”
“Hmm, she did,” Rukia agreed. “We’re going to be really late, and my clothes are still too tight,” she mumbled against his chest.
Ichigo kissed her again and pulled away reluctantly. “Let me get your yukatas.”
Ichigo retrieved all three of the plain black yukatas that Rukia owned as she removed her haori and the too-small shihakusho. She looked in the mirror again. Besides her fundoshi, a white hara-obi supported her stomach, and a wrap covered her breasts, which had also gotten bigger during her pregnancy. “Here, let me help,” Ichigo said and held out the first. Rukia slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled the black fabric on. It was too tight at the waist and at the chest, and she huffed out a laugh.
“I look like Rangiku,” she protested. Ichigo handed her the next and then the third; all three were too tight, and she found her eyes tearing up again. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
“Hold on.” Ichigo left the three yukatas on the bed and went back into their closet. He pulled out one of his yukatas – the shortest one he owned. “Try this.”
“That’s yours!” Rukia exclaimed.
“It’s just black fabric,” Ichigo huffed at her and held it open. “Come on, before Kyouraku sends someone after us,” he urged.
Rukia reluctantly slipped into the cotton garment. This one closed fully around her waist, although it was a little long and the chest was too big. “It could be worse,” she mumbled.
“Yes, it could.” Ichigo grabbed the white belt from her uniform and used it to tie the yukata shut above her waist. Then he helped her back into her haori. “There. It’s almost the same. It’s good enough for the meeting, anyway.”
Rukia looked back in the mirror. Ichigo was right – mostly. The upper half of the yukata draped open a little more than she’d have liked, but save for the lack of hakama she looked almost like she was wearing a standard uniform. “Alright. We have to hurry, though.” She slipped her feet into her sandals.
“Yeah.” Ichigo bent down and lifted Rukia into his arms.
“And what are the other captains going to think when they see you carrying me?” she asked as he strode from their bedroom and down the hallway to the entrance of their home.
“I’ll put you down just outside,” Ichigo promised, and stepped into flash-step.
True to his word, he set her down just outside the doors of the First Division’s gathering hall, and made sure that Rukia was steady on her feet before he let her go. Then he pushed the door open and allowed her to walk in ahead of him. Twenty-four heads turned at the same time to look at them, but Rukia lifted her chin and walked calmly to her place at the end of the line of captains. Ichigo stood a few steps behind her.
Kyouraku hummed under his breath and looked at them but just nodded to himself and spoke. “Excellent. Now that we’re all here, we can get started.”
Rukia’s cheeks heated but she spotted her brother looking at her – no, at Ichigo, behind her. Whatever silent conversation was going on over her head, her brother seemed satisfied.
“Too big for your uniform?” Mayuri purred next to her. “I can get your little anomaly out quickly, if it’s getting to difficult to carry it around. It would make a good subject for study.” Rukia’s hand covered her belly protectively but it was Ichigo who stepped forwarded and put himself between them, hand on the hilt of Zangetsu’s smaller blade. His reiatsu pulsed dangerously.
“Is there a problem?” Kyouraku spoke up in his pleasant, low voice. Captain Hitsugaya was staring at them, and one hand fell to the hilt of his zanpakutō as well.
“Captain Kuchiki is out of uniform,” Kurotsuchi said in a particularly sibilant tone. “I was simply inquiring after her health, given her…delicate condition.”
“I am fine, Captain-Commander Kyouraku,” Rukia spoke up, voice flat and her facial expression as neutral as she could make it.
“And you, Lieutenant Kurosaki?” As Rukia watched, Ichigo glared at Kurotsuchi until the man took a step away. She suspected that it was easy to forget that Ichigo was stronger than any of them, given how easily he’d stepped into the roles of lieutenant and doting husband. Just now however, with his reiatsu blanketing the room so heavily that a few of the lieutenants were finding it difficult to breathe, that fact was more than readily apparent.
“There seems to have been a misunderstanding, Captain-Commander. I’m sure it won’t happen again.” Ichigo’s voice was rough as he stepped back, taking his place behind Rukia once more. His reiatsu slid around her comfortingly before Ichigo managed to pull it back in.
“Hn. Thank you, Lieutenant Kurosaki.”
When the meeting ended, Kurotsuchi hurried out of the room as though Ichigo might chase him. But Ichigo just stood quietly as the others filed out.
“Kurosaki. I trust there isn’t a problem?” Byakuya asked as he approached them. He glanced down at Rukia and the stern expression on his face softened just a little. “Are you well, imouto?”
“Ah – I’m fine, Nii-sama. Just fine!” Rukia hastened to brush off his concern.
But Ichigo’s hand slid lightly to the small of her back as he spoke. “Kurotsuchi implied that he’d like to get his hands on your niece,” Ichigo explained in a low growl. “He said something about getting her out quickly and called her an anomaly.”
Byakuya’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”
Above her, her brother and her husband looked at one another; since the announcement of her pregnancy Byakuya and Ichigo had developed as close an accord as she’d ever seen between them. Whatever silent conversation they had, it ended when Byakuya strode toward the Captain-Commander and Ichigo guided her from the assembly hall. “Quartermaster’s, then?” he asked.
“Yes. And stop hovering, I’m fine, Ichigo,” Rukia ordered as he walked her toward the Fourth Division.
“Captain Kuchiki! Lieutenant Kurosaki!” a cheerful voice called as Ichigo held open a blue curtain so that Rukia could step inside the small office of the quartermaster. The wooden flooring was polished smoothly and the room smelled of old paper and fabric. A heavyset man stood behind the desk, his chin covered by a thick black beard. He was otherwise bald.
“Teshima-san,” Ichigo greeted in turn. “Can you help with some new uniforms?”
The quartermaster grinned as his dark eyes looked over Rukia. “Ah, I see. Yes, Lieutenant, of course I can help. Captain, if you’ll remove your haori so that I can measure you?”
The process only took a few minutes, and Ichigo took the paper-wrapped package of new uniforms from Teshima. As he and Rukia stepped out of the building, an explosion nearby caught their attention. Ichigo’s free hand came up to grab for Zangetsu, but fell away again as Kurotsuchi flew over their heads, running with his zanpakutō in one hand.
Captain Zaraki followed, the bells in his hair jingling as he laughed. “Come back here, you bastard!” he called as he ran across the rooftops.
“You don’t think Byakuya has anything to do with that?” Ichigo questioned as he pushed the package into Rukia’s hands and then lifted her into his arms again.
“Nii-sama wouldn’t—Ichigo, I told you not to manhandle me,” Rukia protested as she clutched the folded uniforms to her chest.
“You did, but I’m not sticking around to deal with those two. You know what’ll happen if Zaraki sees me,” Ichigo muttered, and flash-stepped back to their home as fast as he could.