Fandom | Pairing: Bleach | IchiRuki
Those were the very hands that he used to hold his zanpakto.
Ichigo stood in front of his house, his pockets full of his hands. He pulled them out from his pockets and stared at them, his face void of any expression. It has been weeks since the very last particle of reiatsu fluttered out of his body. Since he last stood there, wearing his purple jacket. Since... since when he last saw her.
Those were the hands that he used to hold her sword and pierce it unto his body afterward, for the sake of saving his sisters as well as her.
He continued to stare at them. When would he see her again? When would he hear her voice once more? Would it happen if he died, so that he could become a Shinigami? No, there wasn't any assurance about that, and he knew it. Besides, if he would even try to kill himself, he was certain that she would scold him... and reprimand him of how idiotic that would be.
And because of that, she was almost exiled, but she was spared for life once more when he went to Soul Society to save her.
He raised his right hand to the sky, wondering that if ever he did, could he touch even the tips of her black hair?
He chuckled to himself. Rukia was small, right? So it would be impossible. He lowered his hand and...
He touched her soul with his hands.
...felt the wind brush between his fingers.
Those were those hands.
The wind was unexpectedly warm.
"Was that how it was really supposed to be?" Ichigo muttered to himself with the usual smirk spread on his features.
And she touched his soul with her own.