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Ichigo kept his promises.
It was something Rukia noticed almost from the first moment they met, just a Shinigami and a human boy facing off against a hollow. Oh, he’d balked when she told him that he had to take on her duties until she regained her powers, but once he committed to protecting everyone who needed it, Ichigo had kept that promise.
When he promised to save her, even though she begged him not to and told him she wouldn’t forgive him for following her – Ichigo kept that promise as well, facing down some of the strongest fighters in Soul Society and not stopping in his quest until she was safe. He’d saved her again when nearly the whole world had forgotten about her, even when her own brother and former best friend thought it was hopeless.
He’d sworn to protect as many people as he could, even at the cost of his life, and lost his powers until she returned with a blade to give them back. He’d told her brother that he would save Soul Society from the Quincy, and he had defeated Yhwach.
He’d stood before Captain Kyouraku and promised his loyalty to the Gotei, and said the same to Captain Hirako, so that he could stay in Soul Society – with her. Then he’d stood before her just a few years later and promised to love her for the rest of their lives.
“More paperwork from the Fifth, Captain,” Sentarou announced from the open door of her office and shook her out of her musings.
Rukia looked up from the already-sizable pile before her with a sigh that softened into a smile when she saw Ichigo just behind her Third Seat. “Thank you, Sentarou. You can come in, Ichigo.” Sentarou just smirked and when Ichigo stepped around him and into the office, he pushed the door shut.
“The Fifth has an awful lot of paperwork for me lately,” Rukia commented as Ichigo crossed the short distance to her desk and offered her a pile of papers.
“Yeah, well, Shinji is a stickler now,” Ichigo drawled. But he leaned down to kiss her, one hand bracing himself on the desk as he bent nearly double to reach her lips.
“Mmn,” Rukia murmured against his mouth. “And is it just a coincidence that he always sends his Sixth Seat? I would think you’d be busy with training the unseated squad members.”
Ichigo just grinned at her. “I promised that even when I joined the Gotei that I’d spend as much time with you as I could. I’m not going to protest when Shinji makes it easy for me.”
Rukia’s lips found his again, but then she leaned back in her chair. “We’re on duty, Ichigo,” she reminded him. But he hummed in the negative and leaned closer to nip her lip.
“You’re on duty. My shift ended once I got here. I’ll have dinner waiting when you get home.” He straightened up from her desk and walked back to the door of her office. “I asked Sentarou to kick you out if you’re not done by eight.”
She leveled a glare at him. “Since when do you command my squad members?” Rukia asked, though there wasn’t any heat in her voice.
Ichigo crossed his arms. “I don’t, but you haven’t come home until midnight the last three nights running. You need to eat and rest properly. You’ll like dinner, I promise.”
She didn’t know when Ichigo had turned into a proper cook, but he kept that promise as well – when she returned to their home almost two hours later he had a hot meal waiting for her and her favorite sleep yukata spread out on their bed for her to change into.
“There’s mochi for dessert too,” he told her when she sat down across from him and he began to serve her some of the steaming rice, vegetables, and teriyaki chicken he’d cooked. “From that place you like in the Southern shopping district.”
Rukia beamed at him and picked up her chopsticks. “Spoiling me, Ichigo?” she asked, and they both said “Itadakimasu” before starting to eat.
Ichigo shrugged; he’d changed out of his shihakusho and was wearing the navy yukata she’d bought him for his last birthday. “You work hard, and you still don’t have a lieutenant. The least I can do is make things easier by making sure you eat. Otherwise you’d get so tiny that you’d disappear.”
Rukia scoffed at him but under the table her leg brushed against his, and she ate her meal with a warm feeling that nothing to do with the temperature of the food. “No one’s exactly stepping up to volunteer for the job, and Sentarou isn’t really…lieutenant material,” she said, though a curl of guilt found its way through her mind at the words. Sentarou had been very helpful in the wake of Ukitake’s death, when she’d had to face a grieving division decimated by the Quincies.
Ichigo set his chopsticks down on his bowl and looked at her seriously. “The only reason I haven’t volunteered is because we’re married. I didn’t want you to think I was looking for special treatment or needed to live in your pockets.”
“I don’t have pockets,” she said, puzzled, and Ichigo snorted.
“It’s a living world expression, midget.”
She picked at her rice. “Would you take the Lieutenant’s exam if I asked?” she said after a moment of quiet. “Shinji’s made noises about how you’re wasted as a Sixth Seat but he doesn’t want to replace Momo.”
“Momo’s a good lieutenant,” Ichigo agreed. He rubbed the back of his head and looked at her from under bangs that were starting to get too long again. “If what you need is a lieutenant, yeah, Rukia, I’ll do it.” He eyed her carefully. “But how will the rest of the Thirteenth feel about it? I know they’ve had it rough the past few years, with Ukitake’s death and the way Kyoraku Soutaicho dragged his feet appointing you as captain.”
“I don’t think there will be any objections,” Rukia said, a thoughtful look on her face. “It’s not like you’re an unknown who waltzed into the role. And you’ll have to pass the lieutenant’s exam like everyone else did.” Then she grinned at him. “My female officers will probably thank me.”
Ichigo scowled and his foot nudged hers under the table. “You’re the only one I want looking at me, Rukia, you know that.” He ducked his head but peeked out at her from under those bangs again, and Rukia’s heart skipped a beat. “We’d get more time together. Would you be okay around me all day?”
She smiled, and at the heat in her gaze Ichigo’s cheeks flushed. “I like looking at you too.”
He cleared his throat and rubbed his calf against hers. “Finish your dinner, Rukia,” he managed.
Rukia grinned – she loved that she could still get a rise out of him and that he still blushed even though they’d been married for four years. “Yes, husband,” she murmured overly-demurely and looked up at him from beneath her dark eyelashes.
“After dinner,” he said in return, and the heat in his gaze promised more than just mochi for dessert.
Ichigo kept that promise, too, and they were both late for duty the next morning.
He kept another a few months later, after passing the grueling Lieutenant’s exam and turning in his transfer paperwork to Shinji – who by all reports had just smirked and told Ichigo that it was about time. As Rukia tied the Squad 13 Lieutenant’s badge around his arm, she thanked fate that she’d been the Shinigami assigned to Karakura that first night.
Yes, Ichigo kept his promises.