IR Month day xxiii & xxiv: promises kept & I love you.
Also available to read on AO3
Have you ever fallen in love with a name?
It’s a powerful thing — a name.
The way it wields its sword, unrelenting. It won’t let you forget. Every memory attached to that name will infect every artery, every vessel, every breath, everything. It consumes without apology. It takes without warning. It is greedy. It is devious. It is inhumane.
But it is also love. It is the sweet freedom you had been searching for within a century, given to you in a glance and a kick. It is the chance to live — the excuse to breathe. It is the chance to become more than what you resigned yourself to be, but more importantly —
It is also him. Everything about him.
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There is no meaning when a name cannot be said. It tracks much less like a shadow in the rain, and it escapes like a breath on a cold winter’s day. It’s meaningless to attempt to catch smoke with your bare hands, after all.
How would you describe the name you could not forget? Haunting? Demonic? Irreplaceable?
Does it follow you into your dreams without permission and violate sleepless nights, daydreams and night visions? Would you accuse it of taking your life or giving you life? Has it shackled you to a place? A time? A memory?
Can you forgive it? Can you forgive them?
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It becomes the bags under your eyes, the salt crust underneath that tells the tears from the night before to stay at bay. It allows a day to become a year, for time has been granted permission to lay waste to all you ever were until you let her go — powerless and screaming. It is every skipped heartbeat, every dull ache, every choked out sob, every yearning moment — every mentionable pain.
But gods be damned — it was her. It was her. It was always her. It was always going to be her.
Because where there is space for fear, there is strength in a name. Where there is doubt that clouds judgement, there in light within a name. When bones are shattered, blood spilt, there is hope within a name. When there is nothingness, she gave you life within your name.
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Have you ever fallen so irrevocably in love with a name?
Countless nights spent searching for a reason to move onto the next day, fearing the rain, fearing a white raincoat and burnt hair soaking red — she said your name and gave you purpose.
Soul screaming out a buried pain that cannot be healed, fearing death, fearing the loss of his presence until it came floating down with a cloak and a cocky smile — he said your name and gave you purpose.
Presence separated, unlinked, unchained, painfully free, the rains came back and never stopped until a sword pierced flesh unbleeding when nothing greeted you like an old friend — she said your name and gave you purpose.
Fingertips brushing knuckles, bruised and calloused, promises spoken into sunsets, swords sheathed and peace settling, Kurosaki Ichigo said Rukia’s name and swore to never lose his purpose again.
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