Hey, all! This is my entry for IchiRuki's third contest. It's also my third IchiRuki fic (so far I do two a year) but it's my sixth Bleach fic. I'm REALLY getting into writing for Bleach. As always, please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite.

Confidence Redefined

By Nessie

He had changed her. Laying on her shelf in the closet she now for the most part considered hers, she stared up into the ceiling she couldn't see for the dark. Rukia had reasoned for weeks that it shouldn't have had such an impact on her. Her whole life had been about change – going from being a loner street urchin in the 78 area of Rukongai to becoming friends with Renji, becoming a Shinigami, being adopted by the Kuchiki family, losing her ability to use her Soul Slayer, being imprisoned by Byakuya to face execution, and then discovering that the will of her sister Hisana was the reason she had ever been adopted in the first place.

She was used to change. Change kept her on her toes like an encouraging, familiar friend. Rukia had become a very adaptable person, adjusting in things as minor as sleeping arrangements (her grand bedroom at the Kuchiki manor was a vast improvement from a dirt floor in Rukongai, and she was currently lying in a high school boy's closet) to relationships (Renji had once commented that Rukia now seemed at times ditzy, and she could only deduce that it was a result from spending time with Orihime-san).

As an effect of this familiarizing herself with new events, Rukia had begun to expect things to change, so there was very little that surprised her anymore. She had become comfortable in that fact.

And then, as was his function, Ichigo had ruined it all!

Thinking of it too deeply tended to frighten her, and she usually kept herself busy with training or trying out new lunches like the ones Orihime made or finding Renji and helping him with the work that Byakuya always piled on. But this week she had been asked by Ukitake to monitor things in Karakura.

Here, in the living world lying on a shelf in a pitch black closet, her innermost thoughts were reduced to what was focused on the least. And that, in a word, was Ichigo.

Turning on her side so that she faced the door, she shut her eyes and concentrated. It probably wasn't as big a problem as she thought, Rukia told herself. It probably wasn't a problem at all, but a passing notion…that was taking a little while to pass. Rukia was near Ichigo a lot. Most likely these feelings were just unspent emotions, and she was projecting them on the nearest male figure. It was completely psychological.

Interrupting her train of thought, the closet door snapped open without warning. Surprised, she fell off-balance on the shelf and started to tumble off the already precarious perch.

The dark haired Shinigami was caught and held before she could even gasp and, thankfully, before she could hit the floor. Heart beating rapidly, Rukia tilted her head back to look at her savior. "Ichigo!"

"Hey." Ichigo's eyes were intense, and he looked seemingly fine holding Rukia in his arms like a sack of potatoes instead of a live girl, albeit a petite one. Their proximity was close; she was half-pressed to his chest. His chest that was bare because the spring night was warm and he'd gone to bed shirtless. Her heart sped for a new reason…and there was nothing psychological about it.

"Do you mind keeping it the hell down?" he demanded, irritation coating his voice. "Your reiatsu's freaking high and I can't sleep. What, did you have a bad dream or something?"

Rukia was thankful for the dark because, with the way her face heated up, she could tell she had gone bright red. Fending off her embarrassment by transforming it into annoyance, she scowled up at him. "You might as well be a bad dream!"

"Right. What the hell does that mean?" questioned Ichigo. He gave an arrogant toss of his head that frustrated Rukia with both his confident attitude and the fact that the moonlight seeping into the room through the window gave an attractive gleam to his eyes.

Argh! Rukia gave herself a mental smack and thought that if only Ichigo wasn't holding her like a little rag doll she might thump her head against the wall for good measure. Giving him a murderous eye, she spat, "Are you ready to let me go yet?"

He went stiff. Only for a few moments, hardly second, but Rukia felt him tense against her, felt his spine go rigid and his arm harden beneath the hand she had put there to brace herself.

Then he was loose again and apparently sleepy, because he suddenly deposited her without grace back on her shelf. He muttered something under his breath, something like "What kind of question is that" but at Rukia's inquiring "What?" he only shrugged.

"I said we should get to sleep. We've got a test tomorrow." Ichigo turned away, leaving her to shut her closet door again.

At first, Rukia didn't move. She simply sat on the shelf, legs dangling over a pile of Ichigo's unlaundered shirts (one of which he'd discarded only two hours ago), and watched him. Ichigo either didn't notice or ignored her peculiar lack of action. He pulled up his askew coverlet and slipped underneath them. His eyes were shut when his head hit the pillow.

Rukia didn't know the words were coming until they were out. "Was that what it was?" He voice sounded hollow and far away, as though it wasn't even she who was speaking. "A test…?"

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, not in impatience but with awareness. Those dark eyes slid over to her. "Huh?"

"Was that why you came to rescue me?" She wasn't watching him now. Her gaze had dropped to the carpet. "So you could test yourself?"

His pale eyebrows lowered. "Rukia—"

"I told you not to come."

"Rukia."

"I told you I wouldn't forgive you." Her tiny hands clutched into fists, the size of which might have been comical to Ichigo in their lack of threat if she wasn't being so serious. "But then you—"

"Rukia!" Confusion and exasperation melded to raise his voice to an angry-sounding growl. Rukia's head jerked up, and she saw he'd positioned himself like he would if provoked to fight – sitting on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor, eyes staring at her with a degree of shock. "What the hell? You're bringing this up now?"

"Yes." Although she wasn't entirely sure why, Rukia felt this was necessary. "Ichigo…your strength had tripled since I first transferred my powers to you. Did you decide to come to Soul Society so Urahara would train you beforehand? Or so you could challenge yourself? Or beat Ishida? I need to know…" Her brow knit in profound thought, plus a little disbelief she still retained as she now recalled that time. "What kind of person opens themselves to the possibility of being annihilated for someone they barely know?"

Ichigo stared. "It wasn't just me. You know that. Chad, Ishida, Inoue, Yoruichi-san, and Ganju…they all—"

"No!" Rukia felt anger, white-hot and completely unexpected flare up within her. It was like a forest fire, springing up from seemingly nowhere and licking at her very soul. "They came for you. Yes, they helped to save me and it's a debt I'll never repay. But you know they came for you!" Her shoulders began to shake as she half-shouted the words. "Chad because you two are like brothers, Ishida because you're rivals, Inoue because she's loyal to you, Yoruichi because she wanted to look over your progress and Ganju! Ganju only came because Shiba Kuukaku forced him to and both of them still wish I was dead!" Rukia was further incensed when she felt hot, humiliating tears come to her eyes. "Don't you see? I should have died there, Ichigo! You don't understand how horrible it is to have to face my brother each day knowing that he should have let me be executed because I broke the law! Laws that are there for a reason! Laws I knew about and altered when I shouldn't have, Hollow or no Hollow! I—"

"Shut up."

The two little words and the tone they were used with were enough to make Rukia do just that. Her mouth closed, but her eyes were still brimmed with tears that had yet to fall. Thrown off by his abrupt order, she couldn't remember what point her tirade had been at. She didn't even really know how or why she had begun it, but she had felt it, felt all of those things and was horrified that they had been revealed so nastily.

Ichigo seemed no happier about it, and far more pissed off. "Is that what you see in them when you look them in the eye? Chad, Ishida, Inoue, Yoruichi…do you really see them as my friends and not yours?" He glared at her. "What the hell is wrong with you!" He ignored her flinch and plowed on. "People don't risk their lives for a friend of a friend, Rukia. They do it for people they care about. As for freakin' Ganju, whatever! It's freakin' Ganju! I don't know what all went down with you and their brother, but he's not dumb, Rukia." Ichigo paused. "Well, I mean…yeah he is, but I think he at least realizes you didn't deserve to die!"

The two faced off for a few seconds, meeting hard look for hard look. They could have sat glowering at each other for as long as it takes a single drop of water to traverse a whole river and reach the sea, but it was finally Ichigo who relented. His shoulders sagged, his eyes moved from hers, and he sighed. He rose from the bed and Rukia tensed impossibly further. He took slow steps toward the closet again, and in three strides he was there. Close enough now, he could see the water shimmering just above her lower lashes, and a slight pang bolted through him.

What the hell? The wielder of Zangetsu studied the small girl who occupied his closet. She was the same Rukia that he'd always known, and yet ever since rescuing her in Soul Society, she had been different, more mature and somewhat more reserved. Granted, she was still surprisingly loud for her smallness, but she wasn't the energetic Rukia now. Right now she seemed…defeated.

The notion made something in his chest squeeze tight, and all at once he acted. For once, it wasn't a quick, rash action, but neither was it planned out. His simply lifted his hand close to her face and, with the pad of his thumb, brushed away the tears in an action that could only be described as tender, even though it was Ichigo doing it. And "tender" was not a word often used to describe Kurosaki Ichigo.

Whatever his motion was called, it seemed to be too much for Rukia, who dissolved and openly cried in front of him. He had seen her cry before, but never like this. Her whole body shook with the strain of her emotions, and he felt totally useless. Hands hanging at his sides, he scrambled for some kind of words that might comfort her but there were none. Ichigo's methods were rarely soft, so he went with what he always used; firmness.

"Look, you're not stupid." She didn't so much as glance at him, but the big gasping breaths she'd been heaving out slowed somewhat as Rukia listened. "Rukia!" He made fists of his own as feelings he'd scarcely known he had burst forward. "The first day we met, you saved my family by sacrificing yourself. If that doesn't make someone remember a person, then nothing does. I'll never forget you, and I'm not going to try. There's never going to be a day when you won't know me, do you realize that?" She paused, and he gripped her shoulders. "Look at me!"

She did. Deep brown met soft indigo like fresh earth that holds up new violets, and she felt burned – but even in her grief it was a pleasurable fire that scorched her. Confused, she just shook her head. "Ichigo…"

In a far more Ichigo-like but far less expected gesture, he surged toward her, pressing her to him once more, and Ichigo kissed her.

Rukia felt everything inside and outside of her go blank, as though her entire memory had been suddenly wiped clean. Eyes wide, her first instinct was to struggle. She'd been held forcefully like this before, but it had been to restrain her, to imprison her.

As she slowly went lax and her eyes closed, she felt an unbelievable sense of…freedom.

Ichigo drew back without hurry, their lips parted, and Rukia mouthed something wordless as though to protest. When she opened her eyes again, Ichigo had a stare aimed at her but seemed more directed at himself. It was obvious that he was in disbelief of what he had just done.

He soon came back to himself and, after a moment to gather his thoughts, said, "Do you get it now? If nothing else…I…I want you here with me."

Her heart was racing again. "Ichigo." Tears welled up again but this time there was a smile accompanying them. "Thank you."

The words were meant for more than what had just transpired, and he nodded because he understood that. "Don't mention it." She scoffed a little bit – what a very Ichigo reply.

A second passed, and her smile faded to be replaced by a suspicious expression. "Ichigo…did you mean to do that?"

The light served her well enough, and she couldn't hold back a grin when color flooded his cheeks. He coughed into his balled-up hand for a minute, and then looked down at his bare feet. Getting over it, he smirked in her face with his usual arrogance. "I'd been holding that back for awhile."

With that, he gave her legs a teasing swing, and his strength turned her until she was stretched out on the shelf again.

"'Night, Rukia," he called just before shutting the closet door again.

Rukia sat, listening to him get back in bed. She peeked through a crack in the door and saw he was lying on his side with his back to her. Her mouth spread wide in a mischievous smile.

Using stealth she'd acquired in Shinigami training and her time as a thief, she noiselessly opened her closet door for the second time that night and jumped to the floor without a sound.

It was Rukia's turn to have all the confidence.

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