Log; ongoing

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

When; Directly following Rukia's arrival to The City
Rating; PG-13 [honestly does Ichigo EVER make it out of a scenario without a curse word? I think not.]
Characters; Ichigo and Rukia gloom and doom
Summary; Ichigo goes to pick Rukia up from the fountain.
Log; The air seemed neither hot nor cool and while nothing other than the word of comrades and the appearance in The City itself told her of its odd and supernatural qualities for certain, something about the feel of the place was indeed different than anything Rukia had felt before. She felt neither completely alive, nor dead, and while that was possibly the result of minor this-world-that-world-culture shock, it was just as likely that it was something far less logical. Eyes scanning her surroundings, she could not discern much about 'the place' they all seemed to have come to on the whim of what sounded to her like supposed deities. It was dark, but somehow that wasn't surprising. Above all she had been told to be careful.

Almost, a part of her laughed. She knew how to be careful.

It shocked her slightly how within what must have been seconds of her arrival, so many familiar voices greeted her, not all of them welcome. At the thought of the female Arrancar witch, Rukia wrinkled her nose in distaste, crossing her arms as she glanced behind her, not quite sure which direction the idiot would be coming from.

Comments

[strawberried.livejournal.com]

Ichigo wasn't coming from any direction she could see, because he'd slipped into a shunpo the moment he got out the door. He'd forgotten how cold and open it was outside, compared to the warm stuffiness of the apartment. Though, the stuffiness wasn't so bad sometimes.

It was easy to spot her standing by the fountain, and the moment she came into his sight, he faltered in the shunpo step, a hiccup, before he was gone again. She had the same look on her face as the legions of other newbies, only Rukia-fied, of course. He almost hadn't believed it, talking to her, that she didn't remember a thing. It was a joke, right? Wrong. The second he saw that expression on her face, it became real.

He stopped in front of her, appearing out of thin air, the sudden decrease in speed sending his uniform fluttering, stiff fabric cracking on the wind. Something weird made his chest feel tight, almost painful, like the time they're first met, her sword piercing his skin. He tried to shake it, mouth turning down in his customary frown.

"Yo, Rukia."

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

He was very much the Ichigo she last parted with when they split up to find Inoue, but a small part--Rukia wasn't exactly certain which part to be honest--felt different. She wasn't certain, as she gave him a quick once-over, if it was a change in him or in her, or perhaps a combination, but in any case, she noticed with a slight quirk to her brow and a shift in the way she stood.

"That was quick."

She arched a brow at him as if to say she was surprised he did get there so fast and also to ask him if there was a reason he was in such a hurry. Standing a bit straighter, she tilted her head, staring up at him as if trying to figure out his new strangeness. It wasn't as if he would tell her after all. This much, Rukia knew, and in some ways, she wouldn't press him about it.

"So, which way?"

[strawberried.livejournal.com]

It wasn't hard to catch the unspoken question laced in Rukia's words. He scowled at the insinuation that he'd rushed for her, though, really, that's exactly what he'd done. She didn't have to know that, though. And he hardly went down without a fight.

"It's dangerous," he mumbled by way of explanation -- or excuse -- absently shifting his weight. "And it's dark." As if that made a difference.

Frowning, he turned halfway away from her, towards the direction of building 5, a wordless gesture for her to follow him. He was taking her home, finding out about what was going on in Hueco Mundo, and not thinking about how she didn't remember. Not in that order.

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

"What's your problem?" she asked him, cutting to the point, not interested in dallying around it when they could just as easily have it out then and there. It was obvious that he would likely have none of this easy talking in regard to whatever was bothering him, but Rukia felt it would be far worse to not try to get through to him first at all. Tucking some hair behind her ear absently, she bit her lip before scowling at the familiar back in front of her.

"And danger and the dark are two very new things for me," she said, sarcasm no small part of her statement even as she added, slightly more seriously, "I can take care of myself Ichigo...what's wrong with you?"

He could turn away and evade it as much as he wanted because she could play this game too, and it was quite possible she was much better at it than he was, and twice as stubborn about figuring him out as he was stubborn about not being figured out.

"Why do I have my own room?" she asked him after a few moments, completely side-stepping the other subject for a moment of sheer curiosity and cast him a sideways look.

[strawberried.livejournal.com]

"Nothing," he said a little more forcefully than necessary, to get her off this line of questioning. He really didn't need her prodding there. He didn't even want to prod there himself, because... well, it wouldn't make a difference, would it? She was back, and she didn't remember, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But... still. His scowl slipped for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to be grumpy; thankfully, his back was turned to her.

"I'm getting you home before you do something stupid," he said matter-of-factly, as if she did stupid things all the time that he had to save her from, which was partly true. At least to him. Like that time DiRoy got to her, or that time--shit. He was thinking about it.

"Because." He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his hakama sulkily, grimacing. "Unless you wanna stay in the closet?"

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

"No, I don't want to sleep in the closet," she replied shortly, not quite shuffling after him, but definitely with a sort of feeling like she was dragging her feet. Something seemed to be bothering him, whether he admitted it or not. It wasn't a big deal, as he often seemed to have some semblance of a chip on his shoulder, but the fact that he avoided any eye contact at any seeming cost.

"You're acting very strangely."

Calling him out on his unnecessary behavior was also nothing new, but she found herself listening particularly closely for his response, not in what he said but in what he didn't say, since one could never quite rely on the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo to 'say' everything...or even anything for that matter.

Maybe it was that she had been here before, and this was like starting over, she reasoned and then tossed that idea. What was there to worry about? The City seemed relatively straightforward in its insanity, give or take, which Ichigo could do nothing about. There was not much to be concerned with in regards to her return and not remembering her previous presence here, as far as she could tell.

But something about it bothered Ichigo, and that was something Rukia was about as likely to miss as she was to miss a sign with a huge bunny rabbit on it.

Not very.

She fell into step beside him rather than behind him, because this felt more natural for reasons that she would never feel the need to address and they walked in silence a bit longer before she glanced over at him again curiously.

Weird, Ichigo, she thought with a wryness bordering on amusement.

[strawberried.livejournal.com]

Ichigo didn't notice her dragging her feet, because really, he was doing the same. Taking her home seemed like an oydessy right now, though he couldn't quite figure out why. A part of him hoped she would walk in and go, 'oh! I remember now,' even as the rest of him wanted to kick himself for hoping for something so stupid. It was like he didn't quite want to believe it really was real. They had to start over. Did they?

It occured to him that this Rukia -- and it didn't help that she kept referring to herself that way -- might not feel the same way as the last Rukia -- he should really stop thinking about this. It was fucking depressing.

"Mmph," he grunted by way of reply, not trusting himself to talk to her normally. Normal for them, anyway. Normal for them before, actually. Not that things had changed much, except he got his berry popped.

She fell into step next to him, and he felt himself automatically slowing down to accomodate her shorter legs. Was he really acting weird? He'd have to try not to. At least for now, he'd pretend nothing was wrong. She only just got here, right? It would be kind of crazy to have her find out about... them and freak out about it. Last time, she'd already... known.

He scowled. It was too complicated.

"Why are you staring at me?!"

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

She bit back a smirk and a laugh, settling for a deadpan look and then a shake of her head.

"Because of that stupid look on your face."

Really, didn't he know the answer to these kinds of questions was often the same? Or more likely always? Apparently not. Sighing quietly, Rukia managed to make her frown more of an impassive look, the kind of look ore than one person could tell her was transparent if one knew her well enough---but to be fair, not many people knew her well at all, one of the meager perks of an unseated, perhaps.

"You're thinking too hard about something," she commented and passed him, regardless of the fact that, well, she had no idea where they were going.

[strawberried.livejournal.com]

He shot her the perfunctory scowl and unamused glare, more out of habit than anything else -- maybe it wouldn't be so hard, trying to act normal.

"My face isn't stupid. And I'm not thinking too hard." But as she surged out ahead of him, his expression turned inward again, and he barely noticed what she was doing. It didn't occur to him that she didn't know where she was going.

Did this mean she was going to move out? To carry on like she didn't need him at all? Not like she really ever needed him, but it was nice to pretend, to wake up and have to sneak out of bed so he didn't wake her, to come home and have her and Yuzu on the couch watching stupid soap operas.

Fuck. Was he domesticated, or what?

[wingstock.livejournal.com]

Rukia slowed her pace, a bit grudgingly perhaps because with no idea of where to go, they would likely get lost with the way Ichigo was acting. He probably didn’t even notice, she mused lightly, not particularly caring that he was off in his own world, but admittedly curious—some would call it nosy—as to why he was there and what he could possibly be thinking about so deeply. As long as she had known him, Ichigo was more the person she would associate with quick firm thought and a great deal of brooding rather than deep thought. But then, maybe he was brooding, she realized, quirking an eyebrow at him as if to ask this very question of: well, are you? And if so, what about?

She didn’t altogether expect an answer from him of course but it was the asking that counted in this case.

Walking next to him felt no different to her than before, but she gathered that if asked, Ichigo would not feel the natural sameness, for whatever weird reason his mind seemed to be stuck on.

This wouldn’t be a problem, she thought with mild irritation, if he would just spit it out already. He was a really terrible liar anyway and whatever it was, she’d figure it out soon enough with his help or without it.