Drabble: Sunny Places With You

[tamabonotchi]

Title: Sunny Places With You
Fandom: Bleach IchigoxRukia
Disclaimer: Bleach by Kubo. Takes place in Hueco Mundo during Winter War. Character death.
Word Count: 434

She felt the presence of a hand on hers, squeezing tightly. She looked to see the only distinguishable image of orange, and hear a loud voice.

"Rukia, hold on- please!" She didn't need to think to know instinctively that it was Ichigo that was holding her tightly, calling out for her to stay with him.

"Rukia, you can't go! Stay with me-"

"I-Ich…go…" She muttered, feeling the bitter taste of blood in her mouth.

"Rukia! Hold on, stay with me!" Ichigo said, gripping onto her even tighter. He was shaking, make her body tremble.

"Let... Me pass…m- heart to… you." She said. It took her a moment to say everything, pausing after every bit of pain.

"Don't talk like that, Rukia! You'll be staying here, with Inoue, Ishida, Chad, Renji, Byakuya… you'll stay here with me." Ichigo muttered, seeing Rukia wasn't even going to fight anymore. He didn't want her in pain any more, but he couldn't let her die. It was his fault she was in this state, covered in her own blood from her wounds.

"I'm… happy… you're-here. Thank-you…Ichi…" Rukia tried to smile, but it only looked like a grimace.

She had no feeling now- it was much more pleasant than having to the feel of the sword pierce her anymore.

She could not see anything, not knowing if her eyelids were closed or not. The noise of battle began to jumble together, somehow creating the erratic beats of her heart.

"Rukia, no!  You can't thank me!" Ichigo could see her eyes lose focus and glaze over. She attempted to breathe some more, but no air could go into her damaged lungs.

"I…go." She gurgled out one last time, not knowing if he was still there, holding her frail form.

"Rukia…" He muttered. He wrapped his arms around her body gently, like she would break if he held any tighter. He looked to see her eyes slowly close as he leaned closer. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, avoiding the cut right below her left eye.

He stayed in that position, holding the limp figure, staring down at her serene face.

His friends stood behind him, staying silent as they watch him brush a stray strand of hair off her face. Several of the shinigami came, alarmed to see him holding her, doing nothing but holding her hand in front of him. The winds in Hueco Mundo rustled her matted hair, but she still looked peaceful in his arms.

She was gone.

She was dead.

He wanted her back, wanting to see her eyes again.

Both of them felt cold.