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The dream is always the same. He has no wounds, and he stands in front of Soul Society's fallen captain. There is no sword in his hand and he faces Aizen with nothing but his fists and his determination. He expects death and terror, the disappearance of every soul he's ever cared about, and the maniacal laugh of that damn man who so desires to be a god. Aizen laughs at him, and all he can do is watch and hope not to fall with the rest.
This time, however, it's different.
This time, he can feel them die. He can feel each presence disappear, each reiatsu waver and then completely split. It attacks his inner being, like a stab to his side multiple times. Like an erratic heartbeat that jumps. He cringes in pain on the ground, shaking and screaming.
There--Ishida. And then Chad. Then Inoue. Renji. Dad. Karin. Yuzu.
Mom.
That one pushes him to the brink. He chokes, clutching himself and yelling at no one in particular. This is a new kind of pain. His blood is spiraling out of control inside of him, and he feels the rain coming, it's just about to fall--
Rukia looks up at him, the same way she did before he lost his powers, the same way she did when all of the what-if's in the world could have happened--
Her reiatsu snaps, takes her away.
Rage. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Misery. Heartbreak. Everything hits him all at once, like the way a million blades clash and ring through the world. He feels every emotion, and yet nothing at all. There is no spiritual pressure anywhere left for him. He can't sense a single soul.
The silence booms in his ears, and it suffocates him. There's too much noise in a world with no sound, and the overwhelming quietness hits. He closes his eyes, wills it all to go away. Stop, stop, stop.
Something hits his cheek and he wonders if it's a raindrop or a tear from his eye.
Wake up, Ichigo, wake up!
He gasps as his eyes open, sweat trickling down his forehead. He raises a hand to his head but it reaches his eyes first and--has he been crying?
He looks above him, and right on top of him sits the last thing he saw before closing his eyes.
Her.
She's sitting so pleasantly on his lap, cradling his face, with an expression of worry.
He blinks. What's going on?
He sits up and glances around, gathering his surroundings. She moves with him and adjusts herself as well, facing him just so. They're in his room, everything in the exact place as it was before he went to bed. The only change is her presence, and her--alive and well--reiatsu. He gulps.
It takes another moment of him catching his breath and wiping his sweat (and tears) off his face before he can face her again.
Violet eyes meet brown, and one thought crosses his mind.
Why does she look so pained?
He suddenly notices how close they are, with the way her hair trickles on his nose and giving him an itch. She leans her forehead against his, as if it was just there a moment ago.
It dawns on him.
His hand wraps around hers, both on his cheek. He stares into her eyes, trying to find an explanation... and reassurance.
Is he still dreaming?
The first thing she notices when she dashes into his bedroom, clad in a gigai with an explanation as to why she's been gone so long, is that he's shaking, and shaking bad.
Why is he shaking?
She rushes to his bedside, watching him intently. He's shaking so violently, and his reiatsu is off the charts. How is no one with any sense of power noticing this monstrosity?
Is his hollow trying to take over? Probably not, he hasn't been doing anything for so long...
It's just a bad dream, it has to be.
She sits on his side, observing him, trying to find a solution. Waking him up would be suitable, obviously. She tries this approach by simply nudging him, but he suddenly spasms as if he's been electrocuted. She sits back and a hand comes out to steady him. The sensation on his reiatsu is so odd, and it throws her back. Now she's sweating.
It seems like he's so deep in the dream that it's affecting him this much. She leans in closer, when she realizes--
He's crying.
Full blown tears, running down his cheeks. She furrows her brows.
He can keep his cool in the daytime, but here, in the vicinity of his room... his demons come out to play.
Even a hero like him can't run away from weakness.
This time, she crawls on top of him, willing herself to calm down. Her fingers delve into his hair, pushing strands back softly. The steadiness of her hands soothe him for a brief moment, and the shaking finally stops.
She lets out a deep breath, thinking that it's finally over. He's okay now.
Except it's not, because a split second passes before he's trembling again. His face is so scrunched in pain that it actually hurts her as well. His reiatsu spills out tenfold, much more wild than it was before she touched him.
He just needs to wake up. Why won't he wake up?
The tears won't stop, and she has to keep wiping them away, all while slowly giving him jolts to wake up. None of it works, and she is left with one option.
She takes a deep breath, and hopes he will forgive her for what she's about to do. Slowly, her hands slide from his hair, moving down to his cheekbones.
Wake up, Ichigo, wake up!
She cradles his face, leans in, and presses her lips to his tightly, all in one fluid motion.
Her plan works, and in the next moment, he's gasping for air, looking around in a frenzy--before his eyes meet hers.
His expression still screams confusion and fear, and she keeps him in her grasp, just in case he might drift away again.
Oh, Ichigo, she thinks, what the hell happened to you?
They sit on his bed, facing each other, and he starts by saying her name.
"Rukia..." He sounds so quiet, barely above a whisper. She listens to how mellow his voice is, a fraction of sorrow laced in it.
She wipes another tear that falls, gravity taking over. "Ichigo," she leans back. "What was that?"
He doesn't answer, staring at her like he's just seen the end of the world and--
And he's finally reached home.
They gaze at each other, trying to figure out the situation. She narrows her eyes, scrutinizing his vacant expression. He seems so out of it, yet he isn't at all. If anything, his reiatsu has done nothing but calm down... just a bit.
She wishes he would explain himself. Usually, his eyes said it all, but right now... there was nothing to read.
"Bad dream?" she asks.
He looks away, and she notices. Finally, he speaks. "You could say that."
Neither speak for a moment, with her watching him, and him avoiding her. His fleeing eyes are nothing but a warning sign to her, so she pushes forward. Their positions haven't changed, with her still sitting lightly on his lap.
She removes her hands from his face, and a sudden coldness seeps into the space between them. After a moment, she settles for leaving them pressed on his chest.
"Was it that bad?"
He closes his eyes, still trying to figure out this dream, or this reality. His mind is still jumbled, and he doesn't know whether or not he's still imagining things. He still doesn't reply, but she already knows the answer to her meaningless question.
"Idiot," she sighs. "Tell me."
He doesn't want to look at her, because if he does it might all just be true. He might just be awake after all--and he doesn't know if he wants that or not. With the way her fingertips spin gentle circles on his chest, he has no idea what to think.
This touch--that was real. That was Rukia.
So he just asks her, straight up. "Am I still dreaming?"
She stills, all movements stopping suddenly. He can feel her, and he knows that this reiatsu is that midget. Her soul is here, so strong and so pure. But the feeling of that energy being taken away from him, that crimson ribbon slipping from his fingertips so vividly--
Please tell me it's not a dream.
"Fool, you're awake."
And there it is.
Every muscle in his body gives out in that moment, and he leans forward, laying his head on her chest. She doesn't react the way he thinks she will, because instead of shoving him away, she moves her hands around his neck. He takes this silent moment and breathes.
"It felt so real. It didn't feel like a dream at all." he says.
Her hands find their way into his hair again, and he thinks this is familiar. "Sometimes that happens."
"If your 'sometimes' means 'often,' then you're right. It's been happening a lot. It hurts."
"But at least you're awake now."
"I guess." He huffs and closes his eyes, letting her scent consume him.
Silence falls between them, as they take in each other's presence bit by bit. The only sounds that linger are their breaths and their heartbeats.
"Rukia." He says her name like he's finally realized that she's here. Finally here, after months of being alone and having to deal with the night. Lately, he's been hating the dark, what with the nightmares and the loneliness.
And the fact that there hasn't been a moon for him to look at for some time now.
The lingering question she's been expecting finally arrives.
"Where have you been?"
She sighs. "Where I've always been. Being a lieutenant keeps me busy."
"It's been months, and I can't-- I can't sleep. The dreams keep happening--everyone keeps dying--"
"Shush." She sets her chin on top of his head, and his face finds the crook of her neck. "You always mope around when I'm not here. Stop doing that."
"It's not my fault. You're the one that goes away, not me."
She closes her eyes. "I'm not totally gone, idiot. It's not like before."
Before, he thinks. Before as in those dreadful seventeen months, right after that final battle with--
She can feel his heartbeat increase in pace, and she realizes she's triggered the thoughts again, damn her.
"Ichigo." She's about to move when he tightens his hold on her.
"No," he says, locking her in his arms. "I'm okay. It's okay. I'm just--" He finally moves from his place on her neck, glancing up at her. "I just have to remember you're here now."
"Oh hush." She presses her lips to his forehead. "It seems that now you need my kisses to think clearly. Idiot."
He freezes, before he fully sits up, wide eyes abound.
She raises a brow. "What?"
"You--" he points at her lips awkwardly. "You just kissed me."
"And?" she crosses her arms. "I did it a few minutes ago, too."
Words are at a loss for him, and his pointed finger simply falls down in shock.
"What? How else do you think I woke you up?"
He still doesn't reply, mouth agape.
"I tried the simple nudge, but it turned out giving you the opposite reaction. So I kissed you."
No reply, still.
"Ichigo, you fool." she slaps him, but he is unmoved. "Say something!"
He gulps. "This has to be a dream."
"Hm, are you saying that you dream about us kissing?"
The sweat on his forehead runs. "Well, yeah--wait no. I meant no. I--what!"
She smirks, watching his reaction to her fully sink in. She kissed him, yes, but she would have never expected him, Soul Society's hero, to react so... wildly to that. Not after the near panic attack he was about to have.
Her heart kind of swells at this thought.
She doesn't get any more time to dwell on this, though, because suddenly he's pulling her back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck again.
"Ichigo," her eyes widen. "What are you doing--"
He holds her tiny waist in his arms, and kisses her like there is no tomorrow.
Her eyes widen for a moment, but reality sinks in and she soon moves after him, meeting his lips with the same energy they share.
He kisses her like the rain has come and gone, but the storm still holds him down. He kisses her like he's trying to break free, like he's trying to wake up.
But she kisses him back like he's always thought she would, like she's telling him, the rain has stopped. She kisses him like she's reminding him of reality, like she's his anchor and his strength. She kisses him like the way the light kisses the earth (his ray of light, that's what she is).
Soon enough, he leans back into his bed, pulling her with him. Their bodies press together insistently, clinging onto each other so tightly. He recognizes her lips, and he knows she's telling the truth about kissing him awake. No way he would ever forget the feel of her lips, not like this.
She pulls back and catches her breath, looking into his eyes. He has to know, he has to believe that he's awake now.
He smiles, and she's mesmerized.
"Yeah," he says. "Definitely not a dream."