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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
- 2
- 3
Anan: Well, at least I got this chapter done right? -sweatdrop-
I haven't sent the full chapter over to Yuusha for beta'ing (she's not on Y!IM right now) so this is totally raw for the most part, but I'll replace it with the fully beta'd one when I get it 8D
Yuusha: -tackleglomp-Haihaiiiii. (:
Yay for continuing readers! If you're there. –sweatdrop- hopefully you are, or we're going to have to send our little cutter Ichigo to teach you a lesson. D: And you don't want thaaaat.
I have returned from the land of Offline & Sleepytime to beta this fine work of angst and emo. I hope you enjoy... this was filled with much procrastination on my part and slave-driving on Anan's. X3
Ciaaaaaao/Yuusha3
DISCLAIMER: Bleach and all characters within belong to Kubo-sama. But I get to keep Ichigo's angst. :3
Pairing(s)/Warnings: IchigoxRukia, Ichigo centric, SERIOUSLY INSANE ANGST/EMO-ING, Self-mutilation, varied OOC-ness, lemons in later chapters.
9 Crimes Chapter 3:
‘If You Don't Shoot it’
"O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails, or thou lookest pale."
-Juliet, The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V
The first thing he noticed was the rain.
Rain.
Stupid fucking hard, cold, unforgiving, rain.
He hated it.
And not because of how it felt like fucking ice chunks burning into his skin and weighing down his shihakushō so it clung awkwardly and uncomfortably to his body like a second skin, heavy and wet with the large amount of water soaked into it. Nor how it made him shiver uncontrollably with the freezing temperatures, his skin and lips an inhumanly blue as he slowly succumbed to a hypothermia that would never happen. No. That wasn't the reason why he hated this rain so much.
He hated it because it meant he was alive.
Fucking ALIVE god damnit.
And he was pissed about it too.
Slowly, and with much effort, he cracked open the eye that wasn't pressed into the smooth, ice cold glass surface below him. Wincing at the sudden burst of dull light, mashes of grey blurred across his vision, taking some time for the monotonous world came into focus. Not that he needed to see in order to know where he was.
All of the buildings of his inner world were tilted slightly, including the one he was laying on. Not completely sideways, just...tilted a bit. And for some reason Zangetsu and his stupid Hollow weren't anywhere in sight. Which he was, god forbid, glad for. He didn't want to face the old man and his shit-eating horse right now. He felt too unstable, too emotionally erratic, too embarrassed, and oddly precarious.
Wait...what?
Since when was he feeling fucking precarious?
He decided he didn't want to know. With all this time he was laying here, letting idle thoughts occupy his fucked up head, the rain had steadily gotten harder, now lashing at his back like icy whips.
So with a groan, and a few muttered obscenities, he drug his arms under chest and pushed himself up on the shaky limbs. Sitting motionlessly for a moment, the strawberry took a few moments to collect himself, though with the rain continuing to batter mercilessly down on his weary body it was a lot harder than it should have been.
“Ichigo!”
The boy’s head snapped up as a lilting voice called his name. Confused, eyes narrowed against the torrent of precipitation falling downwards, he peered into the distance. He didn’t believe what he saw. “Ka… Karin?”
Smiling, his sister ran past him.
Wait… past him?
Ichigo turned, eyes following the small girl in a daze. She was talking fervently to a blurry figure, hands waving animatedly. A few moments later, Yuzu came from a different direction, laughing brightly.
“Onii-chan! Onii-chan!”
She grabbed onto the figure’s hand, jumping up and down lightly. Karin joined in, helping pull the person they were greeting forward. A familiar mop of spiky orange hair came into view, accompanied by smiling brown eyes, a wide grin, and a hearty laugh.
And then it hit. They were talking to him.
“Karin… Yuzu…” They didn’t seem to hear him, continuing to chatter away to. He wasn’t going to accept this. The hell he would. That wasn’t him, they couldn’t be talking to him…it was a fake. It had to be. Struggling to his feet, Ichigo stumbled forward, a hand outstretched towards his sisters. “You guys… hey…”
Time seemed to freeze, the scene shifting suddenly. It began to blur, running together to form Chad and the river bank as the clock resumed its duty. The fake Ichigo was sitting next to him, mouth moving in silent dialogue.
What the… what the hell.
Ichigo sank to his knees, eyes wide. He remembered this moment, this flickering image. This was… a memory. Speechless, the strawberry could do nothing but sit back on his heels and watch, entranced. What struck him most was not the fact that he was seeing this in the first place, but the smile he could see on his face.
Since when… had I been so happy?
He was caught off guard as the scene cut off abruptly, blending together once more. There were two small children, battling it out in twin white karategi, faces flushed with exertion. One, a dark-haired girl, landed a blow on her orange-haired opponent, sending him to the floor. The little boy’s eyes filled with tears as he recognized his defeat, shoulders shaking with what Ichigo first labeled as sorrow… before catching sight of the half grin on the kid’s face. He’s… laughing. He’s… I’m actually laughing.
This time, when the memory morphed into the next, Ichigo was prepared. Little Tatsuki grew up into the petite Rukia within a split second, a scowl scrunching up her heart-shaped face as she attempted to discover the secret of accessing the contents of a juice box clutched in her hands. The strawberry watched his other self age instantaneously, proceeding to take the juice box from his shorter companion and show her how to open it successfully with a wide smile, deftly stabbing the box with the straw.
Sitting so far away, Ichigo could only continue watching sadly, his mind in a whirlwind.
All these memories.
Were they trying to tell him something?
Deep in the recesses of Ichigo’s mind he suddenly felt it. Throbbing and flowing through his veins and squeezing at his heart like a vice. Pulling at every string until he began to feel his long dried up tear-ducts overflow, saline clinging to the edge of his eye lid, threatening to spill over.
He was so stupid.
So goddamn fucking stupid.
He was so caught up in his own depression that he had forgotten about all the good things he had in his life, all the people he had to live for, everyone who cared for him and loved him. He was just about to throw all that away.
How could he be so selfish?
And then the memories suddenly stopped. They froze and began to melt and fade away with the pour of the rain Ichigo had been strangely numb to during his moment of nostalgia.
And that’s when it all came crashing down.
Strong gusts of wind howled suddenly, blowing the torrent of rain into his face. A flash of lightening followed moments later by an ear-deafening crash of thunder and the slick glass building below him suddenly giving way.
And he fell.
He fell for what seemed like eternity through a seemingly endless space of pitch blackness.
There was a soft of patter of rain on the window as Ichigo slowly opened his eyes, lids tugging momentarily on crust that had collected on his lids; he saw only darkness in front of him. Taking in a gasp of air, he felt as if he’d just pulled himself out of a pool of water that weighed down on all of his limbs.
He stayed still for a few moments to let his bleary vision adjust to the darkness, the room around him slowly coming into focus. There was a dim blue hue glowing through his curtains where a streetlamp was lit just outside, and it gave him enough light to recognize the room and bed in which he was currently situated, was in fact, his own.
How did I end up here…?
He shifted his arms and hissed as a sharp pain seared up from his wrists. Glancing down at them, he understood why. His forearms were wrapped heavily with white gauze, all the way up to about three inches below his elbow. Where his cuts were.
Sighing, Ichigo stared back up at the ceiling, suddenly coming to a decision.
With a grunt he pushed himself up on his elbows, eyebrows taut with concentration and pain as he struggled to get into a sitting position.
“…Ichigo?”
He froze.
(Precarious - dependent on circumstances beyond one's control. In this case, he's dependent on Rukia's actions.)
Anan: REVIEW, CAUSE I'M A WHORE FOR THEM AND I'LL UPDATE FASTER IF YOU DO LOL.
I LOVE IT WHEN ICHIGO CUTS HIMSELF. IT'S SO HAWT. X3
Yuusha: XDDDDDD
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9 Crimes