Death and Strawberry: An Alternate Meeting

“I am going to school now, Nii-sama.” Kuchiki Rukia stands, grabbing her bag from the chair next to her and smoothing the already immaculate skirt of her uniform one more time. Her brother barely looks up long enough from his newspaper to give her a curt nod.

She hesitates for a moment, but by then the maid is already moving in to clear their plates, and she only murmurs a quiet goodbye before letting herself out of the house.

It’s February, and the cherry blossom trees lining the driveway are just beginning to bloom. The Kuchiki mansion rises up behind her, beautiful and stately, and for the hundredth time Rukia feels small and out of place in its shadow. It’s a reminder of every expectation that she’s ever failed to meet, and somewhere inside her brother still sits, and she knows that she must be a disappointment to him, too.

There is nothing special about Kuchiki Rukia, nothing at all except for—

“Hello.” Rukia smiles at the pigtailed girl kneeling in front of her, and reaches into her bag for a small bunch of brightly colored flowers wrapped in bunny-printed paper. “I brought you new flowers today; I’ll drop them off on my way to school.”

The girl’s one remaining eye widens in pleasure, and she rasps out a soft, bloody thank you.

Rukia shakes her head in reply, and girl and ghost wait in silence. By the time the Kuchiki limousine rounds the curve of the drive, the ghost is already gone.

 

~*~

Rukia’s been able to see ghosts ever since she can remember, and before Renji and Byakuya and the adoption, they were her only friends. She remembers asking them where they came from, where they went, and that one morning when the boy with no legs wasn’t where he always used to be. Ghosts came and went, almost as fickle as human beings.

Growing up, Rukia came to look forward to the days when a ghost disappeared for good, because it meant they’d done whatever they needed to do and that they’d gone on. It must be terrible, she thinks, to be stuck in between life and death, unable to reach either.

“Kuchiki-sama, we have arrived at school.”

 

~*~

Byakuya’s father—before he’d died—had turned his nose up when his son revealed that instead of going to an expensive private school out of town, Rukia would be attending the public Karakura High School. She’d been surprised too, because she thought for sure Byakuya would have jumped at any excuse to send her away. He’d adopted her out of the blue when she was twelve, and then had barely ever looked at her again. Rukia still doesn’t know why.

She has a roof over her head now, and a warm bed and a hot meal every night, but it’d cost her her only friend.

She’s never stopped being grateful to Byakuya for pulling her out of the system, but sometimes she wonders if the trade had been worth it.

“Ahhh, Kuchiki-san! How glorious to see your beautiful face every morning!”

Rukia gives Keigo a strained smile and pretends to rummage in her bag for some books so she isn’t drawn into the conversation. The people here are too loud, too exuberant, and she’s too used to the self-imposed silence of her brother’s house.