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The World of the Living was a stark contrast to what Rukia was used to. Despite expecting exactly this before she had even landed there, she was still caught off guard.
There was an almost frantic hustle and bustle in the streets. Everything was…. fast. The very air seemed charged, and it felt like it was stinging her skin. However, Rukia assumed that had something to do with the lack of Spirit Energy. Every atom in Soul Society was constructed with Spirit Particles. It wasn’t surprising that the glaring lack of it was putting her on edge. She assumed that with time, she would grow accustomed to it. For now, it would just have to do.
Her dainty feet perched on the metal pillar, its limited width just enough to support her weight. She watched as the sun slowly set and the sky darkened, light after light blinking to life below her as the minutes slipped by. As busy as the town had been during the day, by some means it seemed to burst with excitement even more during the night. It reminded Rukia of the Harvest Festival in Rukongai, the few days a year when everyone would leave their downtrodden shacks and wander the streets with company. She remembered zooming between people’s legs, taking advantage of the crowd to pick up anything edible she and her friends could find.
Rukongai was a distant memory now. Her life had completely changed since then.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and clenched her teeth, struggling not to remember the Seireitei, her Shinigami friends. Struggling not to remember him.
Ah. This wasn’t working. But she was still new here. Time heals all wounds, no? She would eventually forget. That was her goal here, after all.
The heart of Karakura was lit like a festival, with shops and stalls attracting customers. The peripheries were more silent, a wonderful calm to them as people walked, cycled, or drove their way home after a hard day of work.
‘
What jobs did humans have anyway?
’
Rukia glided her way towards these more quiet residential areas, already fatigued by the buzzing of the town. Her phone remained silent in her pocket, with no alert of anything suspicious from the Intel team back home. She kept vigilant though. This was her first big mission since becoming a Shinigami, she didn’t want to mess it up.
‘Was the Living World that big? Usually low-ranking Shinigami were sent to patrol the Living World.’
Rukia didn’t mind at all, she jumped on the opportunity, no matter what this mission said about her power status as a Shinigami. However, she was sure Byakuya felt disappointed in her decision. It wouldn’t be the first time that she felt this way, as any attempt to communicate with her brother would always be met with a stare of disapproval. While Rukia always felt like she didn’t belong in her adoptive family, she couldn’t bring herself to care enough and accepted it as the norm.
She was going through the motions the best she could. And it was just as well. If she let her mind wander, it would inevitably bring her back to that fateful night, with his fateful touch and words of undeserved gratitude flowing in her ear.
“Thanks to you, my heart can stay here.”
Tears stung her eyes as Rukia angrily blinked them away. This is why she needed Karakura. This is why she decided this was the best mission for her. Rukia couldn’t stay there. Not with his memories embedded in every corner she turned, not with the ghost of his touch lingering over her skin no matter how hard she scrubbed it in the shower until her skin was red, raw, and throbbing. Until her fingers were pruny from the water and her knees could no longer hold her weight.
She needed to forget about the burden of his death. She needed these Living Souls and their foreign ways to take her away from the heart he had left behind in Soul Society.
The longer Rukia lingered, the more she dreaded that this was a Herculean feat that she wasn’t strong enough to accomplish.
………………………..
All in all, the job itself was fairly easy.
Every once in a while, maybe once in two days, some Hollow would manifest over the town somewhere, waiting to feast on a poor, lost soul. Rukia would always receive word of it in the form of the high-pitched beeping on her phone, and she would effectively deal with the situation. She would counsel the victim soul on its fate, and send it peacefully to Soul Society before reporting the event back to HQ, dusting her hands and calling it a day. It was a solid routine that would follow itself letter by letter almost every time. Rukia now realized why this job was for the usually weaker Shinigami. There wasn’t much she could do to make it any easier, it was already fairly simple.
A very thin blanket of calm had begun falling on her, the monotony of her job lulling her into a sense of stillness she hadn’t experienced in a long time. For so long her head had been muddled with chaos, that this strange quiet felt almost foreign, but oh so welcome. She relished in it, basked in the tranquility of it. Like the surface of water undisturbed under the moonlight.
She should’ve known a stone would fall into it, breaking the surface and causing ripples to go through it, droplets cutting free and creating a splash. Leaving the water to sway as the stone sank and settled on the waterbed, forever an intrusion in her deceptively calm mind.
She felt that a stone had lodged itself into her throat as well now. Sitting here, leaning against an electric pole and pressing a frantic hand into her bleeding torso, she watched the orange-haired boy before her, begging,
pleading,
for some way he could save his sister. She had met him mere minutes before and in his bedroom of all places.
Rukia had bickered with the boy, and he had shocked her with his awareness of the dead, yet when she tried to restrain him with Kido he had broken free with his power. Then as the hollow had tried to consume the souls of the boy’s sisters, she protected them but had gotten gravely injured in the process.
So much had happened in so little time, that’s the justification Rukia gave to herself. There was no other reason she could think of that she didn’t notice immediately the likeness that this boy held to the one person she was trying desperately to forget. She noticed it just now, as he frantically looked between her injured form and his sister who was gripped tight in the hand of a ferocious hollow. Rukia looked, really looked, and she felt her world come crashing at her feet.
He had Kaien-dono’s eyes.
Her world was blacking around the edges, she was looking at his eyes, the cut of his jaw,
the same as Kaien-dono.
Those eyes that were filled with horror and panic, the horrific feeling that you get when you are about to face a lot of pain.
Every muscle in Rukia’s body tightened, every voice in her head screamed.
‘Save him! Save Kaien-dono! You failed him once, you can’t do it again!’
Then she was offering her shinigami powers to him, shoving her blade into his gut, pouring her reishi into him the best she could. She begged the gods to save him and his family, to do anything to make sure she didn’t destroy more people that she held responsibility for.
She had a name to put to the face, It wasn’t Shiba Kaien.
But instead, it was the name Kurosaki Ichigo.
………………………..
Kurosaki Ichigo was…… peculiar.
He was hard-headed and stubborn, a bit similar to Rukia. Ichigo seemed to live with a permanent scowl on his face. He talked and handled things roughly, being aloof to the role he now had to play as substitute shinigami.
Sometimes, there came rare moments when Ichigo was perceptive, being able to adjust himself according to the situation at hand. He could read his friends well and often responded to their moods. Somehow he had even become friends with Ishida, albeit reluctantly. When they had first met, Ichigo had stated countless times that he hated the blue-haired Quincy teenager, yet despite that Ichigo would still invite Ishida to have lunch with the rest of his friend group. Little moments like that made Rukia realize Ichigo wasn’t tough as he liked to appear.
Then there were the clear parallels.
His eyes were the same shade of almond in an elongated shape, the eyelashes having the same color. The hair, though shockingly different from Kaien’s calm black, resembled the spiky and unruly style while Kaien was still alive. He was almost just as tall, but due to the lack of any meaningful training to fight, Ichigo was far skinnier than Kaien. Even their mannerisms were shockingly the same, down to the smallest details.
Every time she noticed more parallels between the two, her heart would ache in agony.
She had longed to leave Soul Society, to get away from any memory of Kaien and the reminders of her failure to protect him. Yet here stood a teenage boy who seemed like a perfect clone of her former friend and mentor. It was inexplicably freaky how similar both men were to each other.
For Rukia however, it seemed like fate.
It was hypocritical of her to insert herself into every aspect of Ichigo's life. His school, circle of friends, even down to his closet which she transformed into a makeshift home.
‘What am I doing? Why am I doing this?’ Rukia asked herself. She came to the world of the living to get away from her failure, not to become friends with human teenagers. She came here to forget Kaien, yet here she was, trying to spend every moment she could with the boy who looked exactly like him.
For so long she had yearned for one more moment with Kaien, one more chance to bask in his presence. Here, it seemed fate was giving her that chance in its own twisted, indirect way. When she was around Ichigo, she felt a very subtle calm fall over her, something that Rukia hadn’t felt in a very long time.
He wasn’t Kaien, yet Ichigo’s newfound presence was like a band-aid placed on top of a stab wound. However, a band-aid was better than letting the wound bleed freely.
As much as Ichigo reminded her of Kaien, there were parts of him that were so unlike Kaien that it was almost jarring. He had a fresh innocence to him, like a boy who hadn’t been tainted by the world and its horrors. When she learned of his mother and watched him fight the hollow that took her life away, she found that he was maybe just as broken as she was.
The thought brought a strange comfort with it, like the idea of kindred souls. In moments like this, sitting in the rain with an exhausted Ichigo in her lap, Rukia had to remind herself that, even though it felt like she had known Ichigo all her life, he was still a stranger to her in many ways.
So why did it feel like his soul was somehow linked to hers?
As time passed, it seemed that Rukia’s bleeding stab wound began to fill in. Like performing painstakingly difficult kido on it, knitting the fibers of muscle together inch by inch, until the skin was angry and swollen, but in one piece.
For those few months, the world was limited in Rukia’s mind. She was in a bubble that contained only her and Ichigo, and the life she had built for herself in Karakura. With every day that passed, Ichigo became clearer in her eyes. The image of Kaien that she had imposed on him in her head started to blur. She began to enjoy Ichigo’s company. Instead of closing her eyes and thinking of Kaien, her gaze would be trained on Ichigo as he complained about something else that she was making him do.
With every new whacky thing they seemed to get themselves involved in, Kaien would become a distant memory in her head. He would not be forgotten, but she no longer used Ichigo’s eyes to cope with his loss. Instead, she would see herself in the fire that burned in them, swept up by his passion and care. She seemed to get more and more entangled in his life as time passed on, wanting to be around for him , and no longer for the memory of Kaien.
That was what stopped her in her tracks.
This boy, whom she had known for merely one Spring, seemed to care for her more than anyone had done her entire life. Ichigo was attentive to her in a way no one had ever been. In the shacks of Rukongai, or the vast gardens of the Kuchiki Manor, or even under the watchful gaze of Kaien. She had been so busy falling for Ichigo, that she had failed to notice that maybe he had been falling for her too.
‘No! No no no!’
This couldn’t go on. She couldn’t stay here, not like this! Even with the threat of punishment hanging over her, she knew she would be found someday and face the consequences of the crime of transferring her powers to a human. Undoubtedly, if Soul Society found her with Ichigo, he would be in harm’s way as well, not even her closest allies in Soul Society would spare him. Rukia would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Ichigo due to her actions.
She was too damaged for him to be around her. Ichigo had nothing to gain by tying himself to her broken self. Every day that passed, he was getting closer to her, even though the thought of requited love made her own heart fill up with joy, she couldn’t possibly doom Ichigo that way. She didn’t deserve this torment but more importantly, Ichigo deserved someone better than her.
She needed to get away.
So Rukia packed her bag and ran, leaving him a note of farewell. She understood better than anyone the pain of having someone you loved snatched away, but she would rather break his heart than risk his life. Ichigo would heal eventually, just as he had healed her. One day she would be a distant memory for him. Maybe someday, he would be able to forgive her for leaving him behind at this very moment.
As her luck would be, she ran into Renji and Byakuya that same night.
Rukia didn’t know what exactly she had planned for herself. Did she want to run from Karakura and hide in the Living World? Wait until her powers recovered? Or did she want to return to Soul Society and face her punishment? Regardless, it seemed she no longer had a choice. She stared at the two Shinigami before her; her childhood best friend who was now estranged, and her adoptive brother who seemed to not care at all.
Rukia’s heart ached as she compared them to the relationships she had built in Karakura Town. To Ichigo and his friends. There seemed to be no comparison.
Rukia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shun these thoughts. What was she doing? Friendship, affection, jealousy. These are not fitting emotions for a Shinigami! They should have no place in her heart.
Yet… They do. He does.
Renji’s attack nearly sliced right through her. Either she had jumped back at the right time or he had purposely held off on the power behind the swing.
“Talk, Rukia,” Renji’s rough voice interrogated. “Where’s the human who stole your powers?”
Her heart skipped, fear gripping her chest.
“Wh- what are you talking about? My powers weren’t stolen.”
They didn’t believe her, and the fear prevailed. This was exactly what she had dreaded, Renji wasn’t joking when he said he would kill Ichigo. Transfer of power, especially to a human, was a grave offense. Soul Society had sent Renji and her brother here to capture her, and to exterminate Ichigo.
Throughout the fight, Rukia struggled as her mind raced, trying to think of some way she could get Ichigo out of her mess. Either both shinigami kill her here or take her back for punishment in the Seireitei. However, Ichigo could be saved from herself, she had to save him.
It was funny, witnessing the irony of the one person she wanted to protect, showing up to protect her.
“You fool,” Rukia’s voice shook. She tried to keep it steady. “Why did you come here?”
Ichigo was focused on taking down his opponent, not rising to Renji’s goading words. Rukia watched his face tense when Renji told him he should have stayed home, that she had run away to protect him.
He didn’t look at her.
Was he angry? Was he pissed that she ran away or that she had gotten caught up in this mess? Rukia’s eyes grew damp, struggling to hold her tears back. Why did she care so much for a human boy she just met?
One swing from Renji was all it took to pour blood from Ichigo. Renji raised his sword, and Rukia instantly lunged at him.
“Run Ichigo! Get out of here!” She screamed at him as she and Renji struggled.
She kept begging and pleading for Renji to stop, but it seemed her words fell on deaf ears.
Of course, Ichigo wasn’t running. It went against his very nature to admit defeat, stubborn as he was . Rukia was reminded of Kaien, of his rigid habits, and she almost mourned over how cruel fate was.
That damn idiot…
This was all her doing. Her head had made this connection between Ichigo and Kaien, and she had run with it. The stupid, reckless memories of Shiba Kaien, and her unheard feelings for him had all culminated in this very moment.
Ichigo bled on the ground, while she struggled against Renji’s hold, desperate to save him from death.
“I understand, Rukia.” Byakuya’s voice spoke out calmly, “This child looks very much like him .”
She froze.
The air became stiff as Rukia’s skin prickled, her muscles becoming stiff. She felt that if her mind were clearer, she would likely hear the cruel laughter of fate’s design. When had she offended the gods so much? Was it when she stole to feed the orphans and herself? Surely, she couldn’t be faulted for that. Maybe it was when she tormented the Rukongai adults in the name of fun and games.
Byakuya’s words seemed to make the cogs in her head fall into place. Rukia knew, when she saw his face and heard Ichigo’s staggered breathing, what she must do.
She kicked his hand, hard, making him drop the hem of Byakuya’s shihakusho. She spilled words from her lips that she did not believe. Cruel words, sharp as knives, belittling Ichigo. She made sure to crush his spirits the best she could.
She knew him, despite only spending one spring with him, she understood his heart the same way she did with Kaien. She knew he would come after her to save her. Soul Society would inevitably destroy him if he attempted anything that foolish. Before that could happen, she had to stop him.
“Move one inch from there,” her voice shook. “Try to come after me-”
She finally looked at him, with teary eyes and a broken expression. She internally begged him to understand.
“Try to come after me- and I will never forgive you!”
She knew he would live and would recover, so she lied. Anything to make sure her brother did not deliver the final blow. She could barely look at his slack face, eyes wide with shock.
It’s those same eyes .
Rukia’s vision swam with her tears, with a shaken expression. Her nerves were pulled taut with her desperation, she had to make him understand, she had to hope that he did.
Rukia had already failed her first love, killing him with her bare hands, and bringing his body back to his family. She had felt his warm and sticky blood splash against her cheek, his weight press against her shoulder. She could not bear to feel Ichigo’s blood on her skin too. There are some wounds that time just can’t heal, this was one of them.
She stepped through the Senkaimon, not only bearing the grief of her and Ichigo’s untimely goodbye but also with the bittersweet hope that he might live and forget about her. They weren’t meant to last, destiny would not allow it. This is something she would accept, her punishment to live out the rest of her days with the consolation that she did not cost Ichigo his life, that at her folly did not sacrifice another Kaien.
For once, her conscience could be clear, no matter how broken her heart might be.