warnings: crack; ooc, i suppose; a bit of violence; swearing
summary: it's kind of like an abusive relationship, but in the best way possible.
note: dark!rukia is from the third bleach movie; she is sooo badass. also, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
disclaimer: i do not own bleach.
The Hollow was bored.
His tone said a lot of things: "I'm bored." "Entertain me." "Pay attention to me."
Still, the woman across the room did nothing. The silence was cut only by Ichigo's indignant huffs at being ignored and the screech of Rukia's marker against her notebook. Narrowing his eyes, the Hollow stood up and sliced the table in half with one clean cut. His maniacal grin only widened when he noticed Rukia stiffen at the sight of her ruined picture.
It was fairly decent this time, surprisingly enough. Sure, despite her new Hollow-fied status she still kept that stupid affinity for all things Chappy, but at least her doodled rabbits were getting better. He actually sort of liked this one; it was of the two of them – albeit as fucking bunnies – standing over a lovely pile of slain shinigami. There was another rabbit head skewered on his sword, but it appeared Rukia hadn't been able to finish the picture before he cut it up so he didn't know who it was supposed to be.
He sincerely hoped it was Byakuya.
"You ruined my picture," she intoned.
"I'm bored," he whined, cutting the halves of the table into smaller pieces to amuse himself.
Rukia tilted her head ever so slightly and the Hollow scowled at her. He wasn't sure if he liked this version of her yet. She was so disgustingly Kuchiki nowadays with her silence and holier-than-thou attitude. Well, fuck her. One day she was going to give him that who-are-you stare and he would slice her head off. Yeah.
"You ruined my picture," she repeated.
"Well, it was fucking ugly anyway," he pointed out, lifting one half of the doodle. He pointed to the version of himself. "Seriously, bunnies are stupid—"
He was too busy hating his bunny self to notice her throw one of the table legs at him.
"Ow!" he shouted, pressing a hand to the bleeding cut on his forehead. "What the fuck?"
"You ruined my picture."
"Shit, yeah, I got that—" He was cut off when she materialized in front of him with her scythe raised above her head and about to come down on him. "Fuck!" he muttered as he dodged her vicious strikes. "Crazy bitch!"
The smallest of smirks graced her usually apathetic face as she mocked, "I thought you were bored."
And he was. Things had gotten pretty lame in Soul Society since they'd gotten rid of Yamamoto. (He'd graciously allowed Rukia to chop the old bastard's head off for the whole execution stunt a few years ago.) Sure, there was the occasional shinigami who came out of hiding, thinking they could do some damage, but those fucking pansies didn't last too long in battle. Nowadays, the only formidable fights came from Rukia when the head of the empty House of Kuchiki deigned to give him a bit of attention.
The Hollow grinned at her and fell into a fighting stance. She mirrored his position, letting one creamy leg poke out from the folds of her dress as she raised her scythe again. The blood from his forehead dripped to his mouth and he licked his lips. Then he smirked.
"Woman, I'm gonna fucking wreck you."