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9 Crimes	By : FoxeyFoxey Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female > Ichigo/Rukia Views: 3111 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Anan: OMFG I ACTUALLY MADE A SECOND CHAPTER.
Well, not just me actually, I have someone new to introduce!
I’d like you all to meet….YUUSHA! 8D
She’s my new Beta/Co-writer, say ‘Hi!’ Yuusha!
Yuusha:
Hullo. (:
Uhm, well, I'm Yuusha!
Anyways, the one thing you probably all want to know is -- why I'm introducing myself. Being friends with Anan involves lots of yaoi, Bleach, and fanfic'ing... so here I am. Fanfic'ing Bleach. XD No yaoi though (Anan: Yet)... so. Yeaaah.
I hope you guys like it... it's the first time I've actually fanfic'd anything.
Ciao ciao! enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I no own the Bleach plz. Only story line plz.
Pairing(s)/Warnings: IchigoxRukia, Ichigo centric, SERIOUSLY INSANE ANGST/EMO-ING, Self-mutilation, varied OOC-ness, lemons in later chapters.
9 Crimes Chapter 2:
‘If Somebody Knew’
Ichigo lay motionless on his bed, a bandage job - slightly overdone - concealing the bloody butchery of his wrists.
Rukia sat in a chair across the room, rubbing her eyes wearily. The shock of finding the substitute shinigami unconscious, soaked in blood on the bathroom floor, was slowly fading away... but the questions remained unanswered.
She tried drowning out the sound of pouring rain in the dark room, tried to concentrate, but to no avail.
‘What... what would drive him to this? Why would he... why did he feel the need to do this...?’
The small girl sighed again, not coming to a conclusion.
She stood and began pacing the room, a nervous habit in which she was chastised by her brother many a time for. But she needed to think right now. She needed to know why.
Rukia walked into the house around five-thirty-ish in the afternoon, kicking off her shoes and making her way through the living room after coming back from yet another Gigai check-up with Urahara. Glancing out the window, she shuddered. The skies had steadily become darker as she was walking back home, gloom wrapping itself around Karakura Town like a wet blanket.
“Looks like a storm…” she muttered to herself.
It was then Rukia noticed the silence.
She knew that Yuzu and Karin were at a friend’s house for the weekend, and Isshin was also away for the weekend on a business trip, but where was Ichigo?
Not a second had the question lingered in Rukia’s mind when she heard a loud ‘THUMP!’ come from upstairs.
She turned towards the sound, running up the stairs as quickly as she could. It took only a few strides to reach the bathroom door, but when the small shinigami attempted to open the door, the bitter resistance revealed the fact it was locked.
"Ichigo? Ichigo!? Is that you? Open this door right now!"
The bathroom remained silent, increasing Rukia's panic.
“ICHIGO!? OPEN THE DOOR DAMNIT!”
Silence was, once again, the only reply to her plea.
And then Rukia felt it.
The slow pulsing of a terribly weak reiatsu coming from within the bathroom. Ichigo’s reiatsu.
Her panic transformed into full-out hysteria as she backed up against the opposite wall of the hallway, shoulder braced, and rammed into the door at full force. Wood from the framing splintered as a loud crack sounded sharply through the house, the weak lock of the bathroom door only holding for a few moments before giving way abruptly.
She knew something was definitely wrong when the figure collapsed on the floor didn't respond to what was surely a racket loud enough to wake the dead.
"Ichigo!" Falling to her knees, Rukia grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him up. Blood dripped steadily from his clothing, darkening the already thoroughly soaked floor. "God damn it, what the hell is wrong with you!?"
The boy shifted slightly in her arms, one of his own dangling to the floor, fully revealing the self-inflicted damage.
Horror-struck for a moment, Rukia could only stare wordlessly at the seeping wounds on his wrists.
"What the hell... what the fucking hell."
With her instincts now kicking in full-gear, she gently set Ichigo back down on the floor and stood, ignoring the redness spreading across her dress, then ran for the clinic.
‘There has to be something here... there has to be...’
The bell that hung from the top of the clinic door rang in alarm as Rukia shoved it open, sending it crashing into the wall. Rushing across the room, the girl yanked open cabinet after cabinet; and after that search proved futile, began to rip drawers from their cubbies. Various packages of pills, ointments, and syringes were tossed to the floor as she dug through the medical paraphernalia.
And there it was - a rather large first aid kit was shoved all the way back inside a deep drawer.
She almost sighed in relief, but the adrenaline fueled tension remained tight in her shoulders as her hands hugged Ichigo's one chance at salvation to her chest. The rooms became a blur as Rukia rushed back upstairs, falling yet again to her knees at the orange-headed boy's side.
"Shit..." The first aid kit resisted opening, its latch firmly shut until it was broken in two by Rukia's prying fingers. "The hell I'm going to lose to you..."
Bandages, mesh, and disinfectants poured from inside the now open container, and Rukia scrambled to pick things up. A moment later, she had emptied almost an entire bottle of benzyl peroxide on Ichigo's wounds, wiping away the fizzing whiteness with a cotton swab and smearing Neosporin on immediately after. Wrapping his forearms with gauze and cloth strips was easy, seeing as the boy was unconscious and wasn't resisting at all. Though if he hadn't been... she didn't want to think of the screaming that would be coming out of him at the moment.
Finished, the girl sat back for a moment, panting. Her heart was having a hard time catching up with her, especially when she was sitting on a gore covered bathroom floor. Finally, she was able to catch her breath, so with shaking arms, Rukia slowly leaned forward and carefully hauled Ichigo up over her shoulder. Then, with great difficulty, she stood and half-carried him out of the bathroom and across the hall to his bedroom.
As she laid him down on his bed and covered him with the sheets, checking over his now slightly pinkish bandages first, the adrenaline from the previous shock began to wear off, and with its leave, Rukia began to feel the aching of her limbs. The tenderness of the swollen purple bruise on her shoulder from breaking the bathroom door in, the sharp stinging of the many small cuts on her hands and fingers from when she had carelessly searched through the drawers in the clinic, not caring about her own safety.
Looking down, she saw her once light blue dress was now painted with sick colour of crimson, sticking uncomfortably to the skin of her belly. Her hands were also stained with the grotesque shade which looked black under her short fingernails.
Rukia finally looked back up at Ichigo and she could suddenly feel the bile burning in the back of her throat.
His complexion had taken a ghostly sallow hue, sweat visibly soaked his body and his breaths were pained and shallow. She reached out a shaky hand and felt his forehead, which was burning to the touch.
“Shit…” she muttered and ran back to the bathroom, careful not to step in the blood; she grabbed a small washcloth and soaked it with cool water. Then she dashed back to the bedroom and laid it on his brow, pushing his hair out of the way though it would make no difference.
Rukia stood back and watched him for a few moments, letting the fearful questions and thoughts she had been ignoring till now flow freely through her mind.
‘Why would he do this to himself? Why did he try to kill himself? Did he mean to? How long has he been doing this? What’s wrong with him? Was it something I did? What could I have done? How could I have let this happen? What…? Why…? How…?-‘
“Fuck.” She shook her head vigorously, trying to shake the questions from her head for they were bringing on a migraine, and that’s the last thing she needed right now. Sighing, she pulled the chair from Ichigo’s desk and sat across the room from the bed, watching him silently. Listening to every strained breath meld with the soft patter of that rain outside the window, which she hadn’t noticed even started, and waited patiently for the boy to wake up.
Anan: Well gang, you know what to do!
In order to continue, read and review! 8D
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9 Crimes