Our Reunion

By Tituba

(A/N: This is based off of the Bleach Manga Chapter 317, it's on youtube if you want to check it out. It was also kind of a challenge for the IchiRuki Love group on yahoo—which was formed by the amazing gokusgirl, by the way, hooray hurrah!

So this is basically Ichigo and Rukia seeing each other for the first time after the Winter War and after they've recuperated a bit in the Seiretei. Keep in mind what the aftereffects of war can do to a person.

Also, I'd like to wave to Bleachy-nii who had the same idea I did! Love your fic!

Read and enjoy! And if you feel like it, REVIEW!)


"Tsugi no mai… hakuren!"

Ichigo's head whipped around so hard he was nearly afraid that his neck cracked a bit. That voice… it was the voice he thought he would never hear again. Her voice…

Her reiatsu was strong and pulsating above him. It was like a comforting blanket just wrapping itself around his entire body. He felt a shudder of… something run down his spine. It was happiness and joy and apprehension and relief all mixed together inside of his mind.

Then her name was pushing through his throat, it was bubbling inside of his mouth and ripping out from his lips. His tongue twisted to form the word perfectly as his eyes latched hungrily onto her petit form hovering before him.

"Rukia!" He screamed. It had seemed like forever since he had last said it in hope and anticipation instead of fear and panic.

Her head shot towards him and he could have cried out at the relief he felt pouring into his stomach. Just seeing her alive and whole was filling him with brutal elation.

Though she was injured, he could see it even from this far away, and such a sight caused a hot flash of anger to be sent through each of his limbs. Her body was battered and bruised. He could see a few cuts and scrapes on her legs and arms. Her grip was tight on her sword but he noticed the fatigue that was swamped around her entire form. There were dark purple circles under her eyes and her hair was tinted red. Flecks of blood stained her face.

But she was alive. Alive and fighting with him.

His gaze swept up to her face and his jaw tightened at what he saw. Her eyes were furrowed into a solid look of determination. The blue-violet irises were shining—no, burning, hot as a raging fire. It seared through him, piercing him like a blade, restoring him and invigorating him. He felt like he could do the impossible.

Then she spoke and it was as if the relief he felt at seeing her alive had doubled instantaneously. Her strong voice carried to him and her words pressed into his ears. He was ecstatic as they jumped into his mind and resonated firmly inside of his brain.

"Save the reunion for later!" She shouted. "Hurry up and go!" Her body twitched in the air and her reiatsu wavered just a tiny bit.

His eyes widened as he fully comprehended her words. She wanted him to what? She wanted him to go when she was right here… right in front of him? He swallowed hard and had to force himself to remember. He was here to save Orihime, who was, at the moment, trapped inside of a room with a very dangerous Arrancar. Once he had rescued Orihime and made sure that she was safe he would come back. He would come back and hold Rukia so close that she would become forever molded into his body. He would press his face into her neck and make sure that her scent, her shape, and her reiatsu were totally burned into his soul.

His eyes were intense. He could feel the rigid frown lines imprinted onto his face as he looked up at her. She stared back down, unafraid, unabashed, and unaware of anything else going on around them. It was just the two of them. Alone on this battlefield. Connecting to each others souls just by staring into one another's eyes.

"All right." He said, his voice was low and even a bit gruff. His bangs fluttered into his eyes, on that slight breeze he thought he caught the distant scent of cherry blossoms and snow… Rukia's scent.

Her gaze, which was still furrowed and determined, flickered ever so slightly down to his lips when he spoke. She was watching, hoping, and even yearning… but he wouldn't allow himself to think too much into the future, not when it was only a precarious dream resting on the edge of his blade. Yet everything in the way he spoke and the way he looked at her screamed that once this was over he was coming back for her.

He turned away from her, even though his body was yelling at him to just jump up, grab her, and hold her close. He sped in the opposite direction, away from her, away from what he really wanted. He knew that her eyes were following him. When he was further away he hazarded a glance back in her direction. Her lips were curled into a soft smile. Her stance was solid, one hand on the hilt of her sword and another on the sheath. He flashed her a quick smile before turning away once again.

Ichigo sped off into the distance, swearing inside of his soul to come back and for Rukia again.

He didn't see her cross her arms, worry her brow, and whisper, "Maybe…"

His lungs were straining, sweat was rolling off of his forehead, his muscles were aching, his body was trembling, his side was aching, and his feet felt like they were burning.

Ichigo had never run faster in his entire life. The entirety of his mind was focusing on catapulting his body as fast as he could through the expanse of the Seiretei. He was nothing more than an orange and black blur to the many people who glimpsed him as he whizzed past. He was even able to pass Kenpachi without that crazy bastard coming after him. His haori flapped harmlessly in the wind as he struggled on. He needed to keep going, needed to continue on.

The familiar complex rose before him only moments later. He dashed through the gates—surprising two of the guards—and practically ripped a hole into the doors as he barreled down through the house. Corridor after corridor he flew, never seeing or hearing or noticing anything else but her. Her reiatsu, which was pulsating so calmly in the back corner of this enormous mansion.

He thought of calling her name but his lungs wouldn't comply. His breath was completely taken from him. He didn't care, he could sense her, he could feel her, and hell, she was so close that he could almost taste her.

Ichigo rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. His legs screamed in protest and his heart shrieked for mercy but he ignored them both.

She was there, standing at the end of the hall, her body swathed in a small white robe and an expression of shock spanning her face.

He saw her gulp and then she took a tentative step forward. "I-Ichigo… what are you… doing here?"

She began to walk towards him in earnest now. An expression of concern furrowing her eyebrows and pouting her lips. Ichigo's face was solid and steady as he moved his protesting feet forward. His heart—his poor, injured heart—was beating even faster now. The closer to her he got the harder the organ in his chest seemed to thrum. He could smell her unique scent of cherry blossoms and snow, he could see her milky white skin, he could gaze into her blue-violet eyes, and he could hear the light swish of her hair against the nape of her neck.

They were barely two feet apart and neither of them showed any signs of slowing. Rukia reached out her arms and Ichigo did the same.

They crashed into one another, pressing body to body, limb to limb, and heart to heart. He held her so close that he could feel the thundering inside of her own chest. He relished holding her like this. He didn't know why he hadn't ever done it sooner. She was more precious to him than anything else in this world. He wanted to hold her like this until the day he died.

The only question was... why had it taken a war to get him to realize this?

"Oh fuck Rukia," he whispered, pressing his nose into her hair and inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his body but left his stomach empty. His hunger to have her even closer to him began to drive his senses into mania.

"Ichigo," she whispered, her voice was muffled against the fabric of his shihakusho. "Ichigo…" Her arms tightened around his waist and she smothered her shaking body against him. "You're alright… you're okay. Oh thank God… when I didn't see you for… for a few days I thought—"

"Shh," he whispered, holding her even closer, "I know… I felt the same."

One of his hands snaked up from her back and she shivered against him. His fingers teased the nape of her neck before sliding up into her hair and gripping the silky black locks with a resolute grip.

Gently, he tugged and pulled her head back a bit. She complied immediately and looked up at him with eyes that seemed torn between crying in relief or in happiness. Ichigo felt like he could be drowned in those eyes. Her stare was so deep and probing that it was nearly impossible to look away. He felt like her very soul was touching his.

"I'm here now," he murmured hotly, "Like I said."

She shook her head lightly and let out a wet, weak, chuckle, "Like I said, idiot."

Ichigo could have laughed at the offending appellation had he not taken it as an endearment instead. He was so overjoyed to hear her call him an idiot. It was like coming home.

"I'm here, Rukia," he whispered, his voice filled with so much meaning that he nearly choked on it. He leaned down until his lips were merely a breath away from hers. "I'm here for our reunion, Rukia."

He didn't need to say another word. Rukia surged up onto the tips of her toes and crashed her mouth against his. Ichigo couldn't help the mindless moan that ran through his throat the moment their mouths finally made contact.

He berated himself at how stupid he had been for never doing this before. Rukia's lips were as soft as petals, full and pink and tantalizing. His grip on her hair tightened even more and he angled his head, smashing his lips even closer to hers. She whimpered softly and Ichigo's hunger grew. Her fingers were desperately clawing at his robes, seeking and finding purchase where ever they could. His arm wound around her waist and he held her there as tightly as humanly possible.

He slanted his mouth over hers and ran his tongue over her lips, both begging for entrance and tasting her at the same time. She gasped at the intrusion and Ichigo took his chance. His tongue rammed into her mouth with the force of a tsunami. Never had he felt so frantic to be this close to another person, he had never felt this primal need, this animalistic desire to be intimate with another human. But he needed her, sweet God he needed Rukia.

He gasped in surprise when she met his forceful kiss with just as much yearning. She pushed back against him as hard as he pushed her. Their tongues moved together hotly, searing everything around them until the fire began to spread even more. Down their throats and into their stomachs it raged, burning and flaming until their bodies were too hot to comprehend anything else but their passion and need.

Her hands around his waist snaked up his back and she groaned hard against him. She maneuvered her arms until her fingers were able to fiercely grip his hair. She tugged him hard, pulled him closer to her mouth until his nose was nearly broken against hers. She whimpered eagerly and Ichigo kissed her ferociously.

She cried out when his mouth left hers to travel down her neck. Her body was shaking in his grasp and her knees were trembling so badly that he knew his arm around her waist, and her hands clutching his robes, were the only things supporting her body now.

Growling, Ichigo bit down hard onto her neck, lifted her, and slammed her against the wall of the corridor. Her legs parted immediately and she had them wrapped around his waist within seconds. She was panting freely now, holding onto his hair like an anchor, arching her back against the wall in a desperate attempt to touch him.

Brutally, Rukia's hands tugged his lips back to hers and their oral battle resumed. Lips were split by wild mouths, tongues soothed the marks, and hands clawed at each other for more.

His arousal was evident as he pushed himself against her. She cried out into his mouth when he pushed into her roughly, rubbing her body with his. The friction of their clothing only added to the heat between them.

Ichigo's hand wretched itself away from her tangled weave of hair and ran down the entire length of her side. Feeling the side of her breast, the dip into her tiny waist, the small bump of her hip, the expanse of her thigh, and the delicacy of her calf before beginning anew, from the bottom up and, this time, pausing at her breast.

A sharp cry echoed from Rukia's throat and when Ichigo pressed his thumb into her aroused nipple. She whimpered uncontrollably and pulsated against his body, grinding her wet heat into his throbbing arousal.

"Oh… G-god, Ichigo!" She gasped, craning her head back and gasping wildly for air. Her chest heaved against him and she groaned when he tugged down the fabric of her blank yukata to reveal her ripe breast. The nipple was peaked and hard and the shade of a full blood rose.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she shuddered helplessly as he palmed her. His fingers teased and tormented, tweaked and twisted, until the inside of her thighs were sticky with her juices and her center was throbbing for completion.

"I-Ichi-g-go," she rasped, her throat was parched. "M-my room, pl-ah!-please!"

He didn't need to be told twice. In the next second she was pulled from the wall and Ichigo was stumbling fitfully into her room. He slid the door open and pulled it back, thrust the two of them inside, and shut it behind him.

They tumbled onto her tatami mat, his arms making sure to cushion her against the hard wood as they fell. And then he was kissing her again. Another violent, frantic, kiss that had her lying limp on the ground, powerless to do anything else but writhe, moan, and recklessly rip his clothing.

The top half of his shihakusho was in tatters on the ground. Rukia's hands were running traces of flame over his entire body. She traced over his scars—old and new, those he had risked to save her, those he had risked to save others, and those he had risked to save their worlds. He groaned into her mouth and began to run his hands over her body once again. He was sweating and trembling under her touch and she was doing the same under his. Their bodies cried out for each other. She arched hard against him and dug her nails into his back. The exquisite torture was driving them further and further into frantic ecstasy.

Rukia's yukata had vanished. She lay bare before him on the mat, his hands running everywhere over her body, touching every part of her. The soft skin under her arms, the tenderness of her breasts, the base of her thighs, the curve of her back, the flatness of her abdomen, and the yielding flesh between her legs.

She panted hard as he probed her, testing her wetness with his fingers, sliding his knuckled between the silken folds, rubbing her tender nub again and again. She thrashed mindlessly on the mat and her hands gripped hard at his hair. She kept chanting his name as though it was a prayer. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin as she felt the overwhelming tightness in her belly and the blazing fire in her abdomen.

She wailed in pleasure and arched her back when he sank two of his delicious fingers deep inside of her. In and out he slid them, stroking her insides and teasing her small, erotic, bud until she was writhing in ecstasy. Her face flushed hard and her body poured with sweat as he continued. He reached up and caught her lips with his as she rode his fingers. Again and again he kissed her, probed her, and pleased her, until she could take it no longer.

Her body contracted against him and she screamed into his mouth. His wet tongue intercepted every sound she made. She had never felt like this before. She was so hot, so consumed with this fantastic heat that it was all she could do not to fall unconscious beneath him.

And then he was before her, his eyes met hers and the intensity of his gaze brought on another wave of heart wrenching happiness. His body shook as he made his way above her entire body. His knees were anchored between her legs and his arms were planted above her shoulders. She reached up to touch his face. Her fingers smoothed over his lips, his eyes, his brow, and his chin. She trembled and sighed when he brought his own fingers to his mouth and placed them inside. She gasped when she saw the slickness of the tips and realized that he was tasting her, that the lips stroking his fingers were sampling her most intimate essence.

She felt his body shaking and knew that it was from both arousal and something else. Something that resembled both panic and relief. Something that was driving him to touch her and to feel her completely around him. He had been afraid for so long. He was afraid that he might lose her, that he might never see her again, and afraid that he might never get to tell her, show her, how he feels. And now that he was here with her in the most intimate sense imaginable, the frenzied worry and the calming release mixed together and made his body quake.

She brought his head down and cradled it between her breasts. He buried himself into her skin and breathed in her heavenly scent. His hands ran over her sides, up and down, from breasts to thighs; patiently, he pressed his ear to her chest and listened to the frantic beating of her heart. The erratic but constant thumping soothed him like nothing else. He had never felt like this… so completely comforted even though he was hungry and aroused and dying to be inside of her. He did not move, he did not wish to move, not when he was here with Rukia, not when she was cradling his head and stroking his back and whispering to him.

"It's alright, Ichigo… I'm here… please…"

His hands continued to slide over her skin. She was beginning to tremble anew as he feathered light strokes and gentle touches on her body. His mouth began to move to lick and suckle her breasts while he placed his palms flat on her stomach, running both of his hands over the level expanse of white skin.

Suddenly, his mouth and his hands ceased their explorations. He paused for a few moments before raising his head slightly and looking down.

Rukia knew what he was staring at before he looked up at her with his amber eyes seared with wordless pain. Ichigo had opened a window into his soul that she had seen only a few times before. Self-hatred, blame, despair, and loathing clashed within his irises. She felt her heart break for him.

She cradled his face with both hands as his remained on her stomach. He touched each one of them once. He ran his pointer finger over each line, top to bottom, making her shiver in response.

There they were, the three scars running diagonally across her stomach. The three scars to represent the three prongs that had pierced her stomach. The three scar to remind her of the three blades that had nearly killed her. The three scars that marred her otherwise flawless skin. The three scars to represent the battle that had nearly claimed her life and her soul.

"Ichigo…" she rasped, her voice was filled with a type of agonizing pain that she had never felt before. He didn't look at her though. He only stared down and shook.

His fingers didn't linger on her stomach. They came to the tie on his pants and he thrust the garment down before climbing over her once again and thrusting into her with a power and force unlike any she could have imagined.

Her sharp gasp rang out in the empty bedchamber and she clutched hard at his back. She wheezed softly when she felt his enormous length stretch inside of her. Her heart beat faster than she had ever known as he pulsated and throbbed within her.

He gave her no more than a few moments to revel in the pleasure of his enormity before withdrawing and thrusting back. Rukia cried out and arched her spine, pressing herself so closely against him. She held him as tightly as she could, one hand on the small of his back and the other around his neck; her legs were hooked around his and her hips swayed fervently against his every thrust and pull. Her mind fizzled and her heart burned as he pushed desperately into her. Finding her erotic center once again, he angled himself to slide in and touch both, to bring her so much pleasure that she became frenzied and mindless. She gasped and groaned when one of his hands came up to toy with her nipples. He rubbed and teased and pleasured and thrust until they were both carried to the brink of exquisite pleasure.

Rukia let loose a choked cry when she came, twice as powerful as before, around him. He grunted and panted against her neck as he spilled himself into her. He jerked sporadically and moaned before the last of his strength left him. He collapsed on top of her. His mind was spinning and his heart was beating faster than he ever knew it could.

Rukia lay beneath him in a daze, holding onto his shoulders, clenching and unclenching her fingers, holding him close to her, close enough to feel every beat of his heart.

"Ichigo," she whispered, "Ichigo…"

He rolled onto his side and lay beside her. His eyes were drooping and halfway hidden by the array of orange bangs wetly hanging over his forehead. His stare was intense and she shivered when it rested on her. She reached out and touched his face with her hands.

He reached to her as well and pulled her into his arms. She folded perfectly against his chest. His wet skin slid against hers and she pressed kisses onto his sternum. Her eyes were heavy and lethargy was beginning to creep over her entire body. She moved closer to him and draped her arms over his waist, stroking his back softly. She sighed quietly and he cradled her against him.

He was whispering things into her ears: promises, oaths, and pledges never to let anything happen to her, to love her everyday, to keep her safe, to make everything up to her.

Rukia shook her head against his chest and raised her eyes to meet his. They were filled with so much emotion—guilt, happiness, fatigue, contentment, and sorrow—that it took everything she had not to let tears slip from her eyes. She raised her hand and pressed one finger to the front of his lips. He silenced immediately and merely looked down at her.

She offered him a small smile and whispered, "Just hold me, Ichigo."

And he did. He looked at her for only a moment longer before enveloping her into his arms and holding her tightly. She sighed softly and laced her fingers into his. His breath was constant on the top of her head. With his steady breathing and his pulsating heartbeat there to rock her to sleep, she slowly closed her eyes, and sank into darkness.

As Ichigo looked down Rukia, now sleeping soundly in his arms, he felt all the feelings of the war come rushing back into his body. All of the determination, the hope, and the outright terror that he had felt with each waver of her reiatsu unfolded freely from his body.

He was here to fulfill his promise, the oath he had made when he had gazed upon her tired and bloodied form. He was here, she was here, and he was holding her so tightly to him. She was now imprinted—body, smell, and spiritual essence—onto his soul.

She was here, she was safe, and now... she was his.