Something I wrote last night, all cymry's fault.

Title :: Ideals
Setting :: Bleach
Characters :: Renji
Words :: 543

Even back then, Rukia was the embodiment of something intrinsically better. Better than the life they led, than the people around them (including everyone but her, truth be told) and the petty actions they indulged in every day. Not an object of love, despite what some might even think to this day, so much as an object of admiration. An aspiration to something more, something better and bigger.

Even as their friends died one by one, victims of either illness or ill intent, she still shone through somehow. Looking forward, hoping for the best, untainted somehow by the filth and baseness surrounding them. He'd never wanted to truly be a shinigami, up until the moment where he realized that it might be the only, the best way to preserve that innocence which somehow still lingered about her, echoing through her actions and words like a beacon of light in the dark.

That she was adopted into one of the most influential and respected noble families and became Kuchiki Rukia within mere years of their arrival at the academy only served to prove him right. She had the same remoteness they did, the same penchant for long moments of silent and inner reflection (though she did do her best to spoil that particular belief whenever she beaned him on the head for some perceived offense, far too often to his taste.)

And as he lost himself in the anonymity of the students around him, his only standout features being his bright shock of red hair and his uncultured manners, he watched her from afar and made sure not to get in her way. She'd finally taken off, having taken him part of the way to where he stood now – it was only fair to let her earn what was rightfully hers, regardless of what the sullen and envious whispers (often ended with a foot to the back of the head) sometimes murmured in the hallways between classes.

He looks ahead now, over the human world, missing the feel of Zabimaru resting comfortably against his hip, wishing idly that he might have the extra time to work on furthering control over his bankai rather than sit here thinking too much. He has a world to protect – two worlds, even. And a duty to conserve and one day pass along to others, in sacred honour and trust. It never occurs to him that despite his belief that Rukia is somehow better than he is to this very day, nonetheless, the one who is currently a vice-captain is Renji, not Rukia. The one who has achieved bankai on his own through both need and hard work, to the surprise and astonishment of all those watching is Renji, not Rukia. It never even brushes his mind that the one who strove the most and pushed harder, going from a guttersnipe living in one of the worse districts of the Rukongai to a respected and well thought of protector, is Renji.

Not Rukia.

The one who has in fact come much further, both in spirit, body and soul, who has come through the trials and tests set before him with unparalleled grace (and a great deal of swearing colourful enough to peel the paint from the walls)...

...is Renji.