No More Dreaming of the Dead
Ichiruki. Not!Angst. Further ruminations on sword spirits and Rukia’s bankai, also for @deathberryprompts weekly drabble theme from a week ago, ‘release’. ~1600 words. Companion piece to And Silver On Our Tongues
Ichigo wakes up in a cold sweat for weeks afterwards, dreaming about the sharp crack of ice shattering against stone.
The first time Rukia achieves bankai, they nearly lose her.
Hakka no Togame is beautiful – all white dress and ribbons and a glittering crown of ice – but Ichigo can’t stop thinking about how Rukia’s skin was cold as frozen iron and her gaze turned from vivid violet to the thousand-yard lilac stare of someone looking beyond the veil of life and death.
He can’t stop thinking about how the air around her froze so quickly and so cleanly that a rain of frost dusted his robes white and left everyone around them gasping against the knifing cold in their lungs. He can’t stop thinking about how, instead of billowing outwards, her reiatsu spiraled in, tighter and tighter, until he could barely feel her, even though he was standing as close as he had been told he safely could.
The moment of release still knocked everyone backwards.