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tampered2007-04-08 08:08 pm
juicebox-woes.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-04-08 08:08 pm
Log: Complete (?)
When; April 8
Rating; PGish?
Characters; Kuchiki Rukia![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
juicebox_woes, Hitsugaya Toushirou icepetals
Summary; Rukia takes her leave to try and work through the shock of Ichigo's sudden departure.
Log;
It was warm again. Like that night. That night that seemed so long ago, the one that had changed both her fate and his and set them on the inexorable path towards each other. Rukia closed blueviolet eyes that somehow seemed so confusingly tired, face expressionless as the salty breeze softly beat it's wings against her cheeks, the slight grit of the salt and sand contrasting with the silky feel of the air currents as they smoothed raven-black hair, sending loose strands to play against her skin.
The kiss of the wind was soft and gentle, almost playful in a way, with a slightly hesitant note to it's tender caress. Unbidden, the corners of her mouth turned up a mere fraction, curving for just an instant into a faint and wavering smile.
Like his touch....gentle.
Opening her eyes, dark lashes sliding back from pools of deep amethyst, she bit her lip slightly and tightened her grip on the snowy-white blade in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, moving robotically through the motions of a simple kata. Focus. She had to focus. The petite shinigami didn't really know why she was training, why she was going through the motions. Maybe it was a grasp at emotion, a flailing clutch for something that felt real. Because right now, it seemed as though nothing DID anymore. She was walking in a dream, hollow and echoing around her.
Denial was something that Kuchiki Rukia was intimately familiar with, though she might have argued otherwise. But this...this knawing emptiness, the crushing numbness didn't feel like that. Denial had been all that time she'd tried to ignore how much she yearned for his touch, how much she craved simply being near him. Denial...wasn't this. It wasn't this thick feeling that clogged her throat and her chest, that slowed her movements and filled her ears with inaudible noise that was there and yet wasn't. Denial...had never felt like this before.
With a whirl of the blade, she felt the press of reiatsu as the plain metal shifted seamlessly into the pure white shikai form with her simple command. And as pointless as it might have been to stand on a beach and create columns of ice with no discernable purpose or reason, before she was even really aware of what she was doing, the shifting sands were pockmarked with ice-encrusted circles.
It wasn't enough, not enough to make her feel, to break through the invisible ice that seemed to have surrounded her since she had felt the sudden absence of the presence that bouyed her and supported her. And...she couldn't understand, couldn't see why that glass that held her back from her own emotions wouldn't break, wouldn't shatter into the million razor-sharp shards that Rukia knew it should be. Afterall, she'd suffered loss before. She knew how it was supposed to feel, how the sharp sting was meant to blossom into a knawing, burning pain that crushed every other thought out of your mind with it's sheer ferocity. Even knowing that he was safe, alive, simply somewhere else...that should have been enough. It should have at least been able to make her feel relieved, happy even. Afterall, he wasn't here with her any longer but...that meant he was home. Safe, because Aizen and most of his Arrancar were here. And the rest of the captains and vice-captains were there as well. It was...better this way, right?
But what she didn't understand was why something felt like it was breaking inside her. Not pain. She knew pain, knew the way it felt. And this...this was different. It was a breaking, a shattering of more then just her calm.
He's...really gone....
As though watching herself from a distance, she could feel the smooth hilt of her zanpakutou slip from fingers that suddenly seemed too weak to hold even a simple pencil. As the blade fell to the sand with a soft thud, Rukia wondered to herself why her cheeks were wet, why her legs had suddenly given out, why she could feel herself breaking.
Hands fisting in the sand, she hung her head as the tears finally came, quiet sobs increasing in pitch as she wrapped her arms around her middle and howled her pain to the wind as it's gusts picked up in speed, whipping dark hair around her face and fanning the tears that streaked her cheeks.
Rating; PGish?
Characters; Kuchiki Rukia
juicebox_woes, Hitsugaya Toushirou icepetalsSummary; Rukia takes her leave to try and work through the shock of Ichigo's sudden departure.
Log;
It was warm again. Like that night. That night that seemed so long ago, the one that had changed both her fate and his and set them on the inexorable path towards each other. Rukia closed blueviolet eyes that somehow seemed so confusingly tired, face expressionless as the salty breeze softly beat it's wings against her cheeks, the slight grit of the salt and sand contrasting with the silky feel of the air currents as they smoothed raven-black hair, sending loose strands to play against her skin.
The kiss of the wind was soft and gentle, almost playful in a way, with a slightly hesitant note to it's tender caress. Unbidden, the corners of her mouth turned up a mere fraction, curving for just an instant into a faint and wavering smile.
Like his touch....gentle.
Opening her eyes, dark lashes sliding back from pools of deep amethyst, she bit her lip slightly and tightened her grip on the snowy-white blade in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, moving robotically through the motions of a simple kata. Focus. She had to focus. The petite shinigami didn't really know why she was training, why she was going through the motions. Maybe it was a grasp at emotion, a flailing clutch for something that felt real. Because right now, it seemed as though nothing DID anymore. She was walking in a dream, hollow and echoing around her.
Denial was something that Kuchiki Rukia was intimately familiar with, though she might have argued otherwise. But this...this knawing emptiness, the crushing numbness didn't feel like that. Denial had been all that time she'd tried to ignore how much she yearned for his touch, how much she craved simply being near him. Denial...wasn't this. It wasn't this thick feeling that clogged her throat and her chest, that slowed her movements and filled her ears with inaudible noise that was there and yet wasn't. Denial...had never felt like this before.
With a whirl of the blade, she felt the press of reiatsu as the plain metal shifted seamlessly into the pure white shikai form with her simple command. And as pointless as it might have been to stand on a beach and create columns of ice with no discernable purpose or reason, before she was even really aware of what she was doing, the shifting sands were pockmarked with ice-encrusted circles.
It wasn't enough, not enough to make her feel, to break through the invisible ice that seemed to have surrounded her since she had felt the sudden absence of the presence that bouyed her and supported her. And...she couldn't understand, couldn't see why that glass that held her back from her own emotions wouldn't break, wouldn't shatter into the million razor-sharp shards that Rukia knew it should be. Afterall, she'd suffered loss before. She knew how it was supposed to feel, how the sharp sting was meant to blossom into a knawing, burning pain that crushed every other thought out of your mind with it's sheer ferocity. Even knowing that he was safe, alive, simply somewhere else...that should have been enough. It should have at least been able to make her feel relieved, happy even. Afterall, he wasn't here with her any longer but...that meant he was home. Safe, because Aizen and most of his Arrancar were here. And the rest of the captains and vice-captains were there as well. It was...better this way, right?
But what she didn't understand was why something felt like it was breaking inside her. Not pain. She knew pain, knew the way it felt. And this...this was different. It was a breaking, a shattering of more then just her calm.
He's...really gone....
As though watching herself from a distance, she could feel the smooth hilt of her zanpakutou slip from fingers that suddenly seemed too weak to hold even a simple pencil. As the blade fell to the sand with a soft thud, Rukia wondered to herself why her cheeks were wet, why her legs had suddenly given out, why she could feel herself breaking.
Hands fisting in the sand, she hung her head as the tears finally came, quiet sobs increasing in pitch as she wrapped her arms around her middle and howled her pain to the wind as it's gusts picked up in speed, whipping dark hair around her face and fanning the tears that streaked her cheeks.