Archive of Our Own

It’s rare to catch Yoruichi in any sort of disarray whatsoever so despite being bone-tired from sparring and hysteria-fuelled grinning over the latest developments in the saga of Renji and Rukia, Ichigo and Rukia pause in their way and peek inside the room they heard a furious growl coming out of. 

Yoruichi is scowling at her own white bodysuit-clad reflection which is a slightly extreme reaction, in Ichigo’s opinion, mostly because she has never lost her cool once in front of him and he doesn’t see why she would  now,  but also because, in his very humble and naturally orange-haired opinion, conventionally pretty people just shouldn’t be allowed to feel frustrated with their faces. It’s common decency at this point, right? 

“ That  is something,” Rukia notes, and Ichigo feels impressed at her bravery just then because surely, given the sort of face Yoruichi is making… it would be better if they weren’t caught standing and peeping where they are standing and peeping from. 

Yoruichi turns to them and her expression is still that of someone furious and vaguely pained but she speaks to them in an even tone and asks, 

“The outfit? Too much?” 

It has sequins. The front dips to her navel and the sides are sheer. The suit is backless. Ichigo is confused as to what exactly is holding it up over her body. 

So yes, indeed,  too much. 

“I mean, where are you off to?” 

“Restaurant.” 

“Yeah, no you need to take that off,” Ichigo states. 

Yoruichi sighs and turns back to the mirror. 

“It’s like no matter how old you get, no matter how many times you’ve had to dress yourself, this part is never easy.” 

Ichigo glances at the pile of clothes in the middle of the room, scarily close to where her cup of tea has tipped over and spilled over the mats. He winces. 

“I want something that says I am down to fuck but only if you are too.” 

Rukia lifts her brows. 

“Sexy but not too sexy,” Ichigo clarifies, bending over to scoop up the clothes nearest to the spilled tea and placing them aside. 

“Oh,” Rukia drawls. “Is it a date?”

Yoruichi rolls her eyes as if the answer should be obvious enough and Rukia throws Ichigo an exasperated glance. For the most part, he agrees with the midget. Isn’t Yoruichi already too ancient to date or whatever? He had assumed she and Urahara were the picture of domestic bliss or something but apparently not. 

Or she could just be going out with him but for some reason, Ichigo feels like she wouldn’t bother upending her whole closet for that. 

“I want her to know I want to screw her but that’s not all I want. Like I want to do this properly, you know?” Reaching back, Yoruichi begins tugging on the straps of the suit tied behind her neck and Ichigo rushes to close his eyes. “Don’t want to give her the wrong impression.” 

“Just tell her, then? Because we could spend all day trying to find the perfect outfit but I don’t think clothes can convey all that much.” 

Ichigo snorts. It isn’t that he doesn’t  agree  with Rukia but he also thinks it’s kind of rich that after  decades  of back and forth she feels qualified to hand out love advice the moment she landed the guy. 

“My words, sadly, don’t carry much weight anymore.”

She doesn’t sound sad but sadness, again, is one of the things Ichigo would not expect from her. The words are shocking, anyway, in their intimate vulnerability and Ichigo removes his hands from his eyes to glance at her which proves to be a mistake because she doesn’t see any problem with leaning over her clothes and looking for an outfit in the nude instead of  deciding  on the outfit first and then taking off her clothes like a normal person. 

He twists on his toes so his sight is safe from her and hears Rukia say, 

“Well, for what it’s worth, clothes still wouldn’t do the trick for you. Guess the key is to say it and keep following through.”  

“And,” he interjects, “If you still care, maybe you should wear something that’s her favourite colour.” 

Yoruichi decides that’s sound advice and starts looking for something in yellow. Ichigo sees his chance, scampers over to Rukia, loops his arm around hers, and makes a run for it. 

…

They end up in a coffee shop because Rukia’s gigai is dressed in a flowery frock that she insists should be worn in a coffee shop. Just to spite her, Ichigo runs home and puts on his frumpiest set of sweats only for Rukia to declare he is only going to help her stand out more. Thus having shot himself in the foot, he sits and scowls as she orders ridiculously expensive creamy beverages for the two of them and then grins at him.

He decides every single picture he takes of her is going to end up blurry and out of focus purely on accident. Byakuya gets sort of miffed if Rukia doesn’t show him pictures from her trips to the human world and Ichigo is eager for her to have to suffer through that. 

“So,” she tucks hair behind her ear and beams. Ichigo wants to be sulky and all that good stuff, but he is soft as a person and weak to her smiles especially when they come as rarely as they do. Rukia is, by default, a passionate person. Her expression is always  alive,  always alight. She wears Kuchiki indifference like a mask that barely fits her, dropping off her chin, the ties securing it at the back of her head too loose. She is rarely ever settled like this, mellow and content, and Ichigo can’t help but marvel and then feel a little proud of Renji because there’s no real doubt as to who has put that smile there. 

“So.” 

Her grin widens. She swings her legs under the table and in her flowery frock with her blushing cheeks, Ichigo feels as if she has never belonged more in the human world than she does now. 

He can’t believe he had fought and defeated Renji once and then listened to him beg and plead like that, so completely heartbroken. He feels a pointed twinge in his chest, a weak flutter of nerves, really. It reminds him, anyway, of sparkles rising at  her  temples, flashing across the sky like glowing butterflies and he clenches his fist on the tabletop. 

“So,” she repeats.  This is not the time,  he tells himself   because she is wringing her fingertips now like she wants to talk and Ichigo does want to listen. After all, this love story has been doing a number on everybody’s nerves for a while now, especially his, considering Rukia is his best friend and they have talked  at length  about exactly how attractive she finds Renji. Also, his first decent conversation with Renji was basically an emo simpfest. Really, he is very pointedly involved in their story. 

… and he would much rather focus on everything that is looking up for them than everything that is  not  looking up for himself.

“Have you done it?” 

Rukia’s expression shifts and she shakes her head, nearly wailing when she says, 

“No! And I don’t even know why! It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Or I don’t want to. I guess he would like it to mean something though and we’ve been so busy. I almost cancelled coming to see you guys just so I could shag him, you know?” 

“I would have understood,” Ichigo admits. 

Their coffees arrive and just like the names had suggested they are as sugary and syrupy as they can be. Ichigo doesn’t necessarily hate them but he usually prefers for his coffee to taste of coffee. 

“My reputation has gotten an upgrade in the SWA though now that they think I am screwing Renji. He was very high up on the list of desirable bachelors.” 

Ichigo raises his brows. 

“Really? I thought it’d have been the other way around. You’re no less popular yourself, you know? And guys are usually more…  like that  about things like this.” 

“Oh, his friends are pretty fucking insane actually. I have been told that they were waiting for this as eagerly as he was.” 

Her face twists up and she tries to appear inconvenienced but her cheeks are red and Ichigo is trained in seeing through her bullshit. 

“That is a little creepy. But mostly sweet.” 

Her foot jostles his leg and he kicks out at her. 

“Madarame-san threw a success party for him and then dragged me over because I was,  of course,  the most important person ever for that night. I was down with a headache. It was so bad, I had taken a leave!” 

The thought is funny and Ichigo laughs. She glares at him and lets her mock protest end there. 

“I would think Byakuya would have more of a problem with someone dragging his sick sister out of bed like that.” 

Rukia snorts. 

“You won’t believe how pro team Renji he is. Also, it was an excuse for him to hang out with Zaraki-taichou so,” she shrugs. “At least Hinamori-fukutaichou wrestled me out of there in under half an hour and before the crowds really came in. Apparently, that was going to happen when Matsumoto-fukutaichou and Ayasegawa-san began their stripping contest. I didn’t stay to watch.” 

“Every new thing I learn about Rangiku-san makes me feel increasingly weird about how close she is with Inoue.” 

Rukia snickers. 

“What’s up with you? See you and Orihime came together today.” 

She wriggles her eyebrows and Ichigo wishes he could feel teased. He only feels upset, and vaguely like he wants to put his head in his hands. 

“And that was it. There’s  nothing  happening.” 

Rukia clicks her tongue, sipping at her whipped cream tower with perfect poise. 

“You’re still a lil chicken shit then.” 

Ichigo would protest except she is right and he is sick of having this conversation with her again and again so he remains silent and he follows her lead, taking tiny sips out of his drink. 

“I don’t get it,” she throws her hands up in the air, dramatically exasperated. “What’s the hang-up?” 

Ichigo glances to the side, takes a second to resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t find a  good  way to put this, an accurate way to put this. He frowns down at his nails. There’s dirt underneath his right pointer and absentmindedly, he picks at it. 

“She’s just always surrounded by… really attractive people.” 

Rukia narrows her eyes. She pauses a handful of moments as if really considering what she is about to say. In the end, she lands on nothing useful and goes with- 

“That’s stupid, Ichigo.” 

He scowls. 

“It’s not, midget.” 

There’s no heat behind his words though. They seem almost untrue, incapable of conveying what he actually means because he knows it's not that. Yes, he has been very pointedly aware of the sort of attention she gathers everywhere she goes for a bit now but that’s not  why- … his scowl deepens till his expression appears positively thunderous. 

He is nervous. He is fucking terrified. 

He doesn’t know how to admit that after defeating world-threatening… well,  threats,  he is scared of asking a girl out. 

… except it’s not just a girl. It’s  the  girl and Ichigo is very aware of how stupid it sounds but he thinks it makes a world of difference somehow. 

He doesn’t think Rukia will get it, or even Renji can. Not in the way he gets them, no. It’s surprising, nauseating too but mostly surprisingly, how quickly a situation flips over because seconds ago he had been lost in this unique sense of belonging only Rukia could bring to him, and now he can’t help but be aware of the miles and centuries that span between the two of them. 

She is a proper adult. Renji is a proper adult. They have been adults for way too long, too. They look young, they talk as if they are young. Except there are always moments like these when he can’t find the voice to call out to her, no matter how willing she is to listen or words that could convey the messy, confusing, and scary emotions filling his heart. He can blame it on nothing but youth. He hopes he will grow out of it. 

… because the alternative is that this is just who he is and he is not ready to deal with that. He is not ready to feel so torn  all the time  and he is not ready to spend the rest of his life so close to Orihime without ever quite knowing what to do about it. 

It wrecks his nerves, the very thought. Rivalling it in scariness is the thought of asking her out. She is  perfect.  She is kind. She is smart as all hell. She has read more books that Ichigo can  name.  She is so goddamned pretty. She is devoted, she is loyal, she is creative. When she moves, she moves with an army of loyal devotees. Even fucking  Riruka  had wanted her and somehow,  somehow,  Rukia has made asking that girl out to be some sort of a cakewalk in her head. 

Well, if it is a cakewalk, Ichigo feels ill-equipped to so much as crawl. 

… and maybe for Rukia, it is that easy! Ichigo doesn’t have the advantage of being a nearly immortal noble with a- 

No,  he stops himself, recognising his own unfairness with a clarity he is almost proud of for a second. That’s not who she is. He knows that. 

He still doesn’t know how to talk to her though. 

“It’s not your first rodeo. You were dating Sado before. How did that happen?” 

Ichigo scratches his scalp and winces, already anticipating her response to his words. 

“Well, I was just as twisted up about him too. We were having a sleepover one night and he was sitting too close and at one point when I looked up, he was looking at me. Then, he kissed me and I just… I just let it happen. He pretty much bulldozed all over me there.”

She gazes at him as if she can’t quite believe him, and then as if she does and is chastising herself for not seeing it coming, and then as if he’s a puzzle she’s struggling to solve, and then as if she has found the missing piece. 

“So it’s a  you  thing.” 

Ichigo frowns. She sounds way too pleased with such a stupid realisation for him to not. 

“Yeah. Obviously.” 

“Then why are you framing it as if it’s a  her  thing?” 

Ichigo’s expression tightens in contemplation. He thinks she has a point but he can’t quite see it. 

“I am not?” 

“You are,” she lifts a finger and jabs at air, in his vague direction. “And that wouldn’t help.” 

“How is this helping?” 

She waves her hand in the air and Ichigo feels a tiny bit offended. 

“You’re nervous. And that’s natural. But the way you’re channeling it is a problem. You’re making it sound as if she is out of your league and someone you don’t deserve when- frankly, I just think you lose your shit around the people you like.” 

Ichigo wants to groan out loud,  loudly  at that. 

“That’s just words, idiot. What does any of it mean? Plus, Renji used to talk like that about you, you know. All ‘she’s out of my league’ and ‘a moon in the sky’ and some other shit that nearly made me sob along with him.” 

… and then, it clicks. 

Stupid.  Stupid. 

Of course, they would get it! Who else would get it?! They are just not getting it  right now  and his way of explaining isn’t clearing up anything at all. 

He feels his cheeks heat up and he almost doesn’t look up at her. She clicks her tongue and he knows she has come to the same conclusion he has. 

“Ask Renji how he got over that, then. Far as I know there was no tall, dark, handsome man around kissing it out of his system or anything.” 

Ichigo grumbles because  she is annoying.  He doesn’t like her. Also, because his face is now uncomfortably red and he can feel it, all too aware of how terribly it must clash against his hair. 

“As if he would let another man kiss him,” he snaps because he doesn’t really have anything else to say. He  can  ask her to stop talking about him and Chad like that except then she will start calling him a shy virgin because fuck factual accuracy. 

… because Ichigo is very thankfully  not.  A shy virgin, that is. 

“Wouldn’t he?” Rukia asks. 

Ichigo contemplates that for a moment before coming up with- 

“Do I  have  straight friends?” 

“No, I think you’ve gone around and handpicked all the bent ones. Oh, wait! Ishida!”

“For the record, all of you came to  me.  I am clearly some sort of safe space or whatever. Also yes, if he turns out fruity I’ll shave off an eyebrow.”

She leans back in her chair and squints at him and it’s a genuine squinting, not a mocking squinting so he straightens to give her a better view of whatever the fuck she is looking at. 

“I think you could pull off an eyebrow slit at the very least.” 

Ichigo’s finger drifts to his temple. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Can’t you imagine-…”

…

Orihime is wearing a shirt with a neckline so low Ichigo has trouble focussing the entire time they’re in the cake shop. Rukia shoots him a secretive smirk before ambling off ahead with Renji.  

The way he stumbles when she tells him she has never been on a date is stupid at best and ground-shatteringly pathetic at worst. She laughs  (it’s very sweet. Ichigo might stumble again on purpose but with better timing.)  and when her hands reach out to steady him, he lets her hold his shoulders for a second longer than necessary. 

“How come you have never been on a date?! You must be drowning in offers! How are you not drowning in offers?!” 

“I do get a lot of offers,” she rubs the back of her head and it’s a gesture so innocent, so entirely  her  in every way that he melts a little inside. “That doesn’t mean I want to accept any of them.” 

… and then the words register. 

Like he needed more discouragement. 

“I… get that,” he mutters, and then, because he needs  some  sort of leverage, he seizes the moment to ask “What would your ideal first date be?” 

She looks so self-conscious about her answer, for a second he feels worried but her idea of a good first date is so simple and so appealing in its simplicity that Ichigo finds it difficult to resist pulling her cheeks. 

Most days, he can’t really imagine how she is this cute. 

“I… wouldn’t want to go out with a stranger. I don’t think I could date someone I don’t trust and if I trust them, I won’t mind having them over. I think for the first date, I would just like to stay home and talk, as much as I want to. As much as they want to. There will be no time constraints, no interruptions, no self-consciousness because there are strangers around. I just want us to be comfortable and feel safe.” 

Ichigo smiles a little. 

“That sounds fun.”

“Please!” She waves her hands, face red. “It is very boring, I know that! We could be doing so many other things! I bet you and Sado-kun did way more interesting things!”

He and Chad… they  had  done plenty of exciting things, thrilling, gripping, new things. They had been such close friends for so long, Ichigo half believes the enjoyment came from their bond rather than a genuine  interest  in any of those things. 

At heart, he thinks he is a homebody. He is disgustingly boring that way, not an exciting boyfriend at all and it had become very obvious that he and Chad were better off as friends after a while. 

He had a really intense crush on Chad, had had one ever since he first saw him, a mess of hormones next to Chad’s ripped body, dark skin, and a voice so deep it seemed to have curled in on itself inside Ichigo’s bones. Chad, too, had really intense feelings for him, gained a bit after Ichigo realised his own, and really, it had felt like fireworks in the beginning, hot, bright, and eye-catching in a way that left him transfigured, charmed, dazzled. 

Except emotions were not all it took. He and Chad were surprisingly incompatible as a couple. They hit the jackpot, too because feelings wore off gradually, at about the same pace. No hearts were left broken. They were still close.

Plus, the sex had been really,  really  good. At least, in Chad’s case, the whole shoe size thing was true except Ichigo’s shoe size was fairly average for his age so he, on principle, didn’t put too much stock in that saying. 

Discreetly, he tries to glance at Renji’s then recalls, out of nowhere, that that woman Kuukaku had  humongous  feet.  He wouldn’t be too surprised if she had a cock and it turned out to be the biggest of them all. 

“Yeah well, we still broke up,” he says. “So clearly, I didn’t think all those things were all that fun.” 

Suddenly, pain shoots up his back and his feet shoot off the Earth. Rukia is using him as her punching bag again except she is suddenly into karate. 

He screams at her. She screams at him. He screams back and then begins running. She is chasing him. Orihime is chasing  her.  Renji, that bastard, has fucked off and all in all, despite crushes and all of that nonsense, and his suddenly one-track mind when it comes to Orihime’s…  cleavage,  and the fact that his friends aren’t all simply bent but also borderline insane, he thinks-  life is actually pretty fun. 

…

He notices her hand is in his late enough that her lack of protest goes straight to his head as encouragement of the best kind. He doesn’t let go. She doesn’t let go. It’s all very nice. Especially given how much Renji and Rukia suck at karaoke.

So, he drinks a bit and he sings a fair bit more, not really finding it in himself to be bothered by much. At some point during the night, Orihime’s hand falls out of his which is a damn shame but her cheeks are rosy and her frown is serious like she has taken to heart Ichigo’s mindless declarations of war on the other couple. It is way too adorable. 

Then, they are outside and he is walking alongside Rukia again. Renji and Orihime are behind them and Renji’s arm is around Orihime’s shoulders which makes Ichigo bite his lip and look away before he is left struggling to figure out where that reaction came from. 

… maybe because Renji  isn’t  a touchy-feely person, not as far as Ichigo knows at least (and if he is, in secret, cuddling all his friends then Ichigo has something else to be pissed about too) or maybe because Orihime isn’t, either. The only person he has ever seen her being this way with is Tatsuki but Ichigo is pretty sure Tatsuki has a crush on her  and-  he sighs, recognising he is way too tired and his mind is running away from him.  

They begin talking again, loudly. They make plans Ichigo pretends to be irritated by and then  does  end up feeling irritated when Rukia implies he is jealous and possessive because he is absolutely  not,  thank you very much.

“Actually, do you have an extra room for Renji? The shoten is closed.” Rukia asks. 

Ichigo frowns and comes to a stop, turning around to face Renji. 

“What does that even mean? What does Urahara have to do besides run that stupid shop?” 

“Soi Fon Taichou is visiting Yoruichi-san tonight,” Renji explains. “No one wants to be anywhere within a radius of three miles when that happens.”

Ichigo’s brows shoot up and he struggles for a second to align the harried and nervous Yoruichi from hours ago to one possibly desperate to impress Soi Fon. It’s sweet for a second then it becomes scary. Ichigo hasn’t had much contact with Soi Fon but on principle, he remains vaguely terrified of her  and  extremely so of Yoruichi. 

They are not a good combination. Probably don’t even look cute together.

“My house doesn’t have a spare room!”

Renji clicks his tongue. 

“Mine does!” Orihime interjects. Ichigo turns to her with a frown. 

“And your landlady won’t mind you bringing a guy over at night?”

Like the utterly too confusing  idiot  she can be, she bursts out laughing. Except Ichigo has trouble regulating his expression because he loves the sound of it. 

He loves her, he thinks and wonders if that realisation shouldn’t be more earth-shattering, more dramatic, more… just  more. 

It isn’t, not more not less. All it is is sweet, a little nerve-wracking, a little like he never wants her to stop laughing. 

“I have a solution for that! Renji-san can step out of his gigai and come inside! I’ll carry it upstairs!” 

Rukia’s eyes bulge out, which is a fair reaction. 

“You fool! It will look like you’re carrying a dead body then!” Renji declares. 

“Ah.” She is pouting and Ichigo’s heart is suddenly beating too fast. Her eyes are a little sparkly and he can’t tell if it’s the lamplight directly overhead or the copious amounts of liquor she has had. “Well, I am an independent adult now! I have always paid rent on time and I have never caused her any trouble, ever! She shouldn’t mind whoever she thinks I am hiding the body of- I mean, sleeping with!” 

That… is uncomfortable. 

Ichigo has no other way to put it either. After all, he  knows  there’s nothing there so why should a ruse bother him? It does. For some reason, it does and he can only hope it’s another one of those things he will grow out of. 

“Whatever. If Renji doesn’t mind, it’s fine.” 

Rukia elbows his side and the fleeting look he catches of her expression before it morphs into a smirk leaves him feeling grateful for something he doesn’t quite know. 

“So I needed Renji’s permission to stay in your closet but he doesn’t need mine to stay at Hime’s?” 

Is she implying he is sexist right now?! In front of the girl, she knows he has a crush on?! 

Ichigo, on impulse, wants to turn to Orihime and loudly declare he is a feminist but understands that is not the sort of reaction a feminist would have so he tempers his tone and lowers his lids halfway across his eyes. 

“You have already successfully established that neither of you has any sense of shame or propriety.”  

“Big words coming from someone hiding committed girls in his closet.” 

At the end of the day, it is ridiculously easy for Rukia to be a dick.

…

“You were jealous.” 

“Was not.” 

“You are stupid.” 

“Am not!” 

…

That is all the conversation that have on the way home. When they enter Ichigo’s bedroom though, to his dismay, he discovers Rukia is so far from sleepy she might as well be wide awake with energy drink for blood. She is sitting on his bed and he hates that because she only ever does that when she is getting ready to force him to have a conversation she has decided they  need  to have and it’s all kinds of stupid because he knows what it’s going to be about and he doesn’t like that. 

Her pep talks don’t help. They only leave him feeling small and like she doesn’t quite get it which is a whiplash of the worst kind because, after years and years and years, Rukia was the one who finally  got it.

He sits down on the floor in front of her, limbs heavy. She reaches out to flick his forehead and he knows she is feeling awkward too. 

Good,  Ichigo thinks.  Annoying little midget. 

Everywhere he looks, somebody or the other is getting together with someone or the other. It is actually kind of strange because he has been hearing a lot these days, about couples, of couples, from couples. It always leaves his head feeling like a mess, a little frustrated, a little charged up to go take the leap after all. Except they always cancel each other out and then he just feels sad. 

“Just get this shit over with, okay?” 

That catches her off-guard for about a second because usually, Ichigo pussyfoots around these conversations and she has to pull answers out of him. She recovers fairly quickly though and licks her lips. 

Then, she remains silent, blinking down at him stupidly. 

“Not everything has to be a thing, you know.” He points out and Rukia almost sighs with relief. 

“Is it not a thing?” 

Her expression is serious but somehow only the proper amount, like she trusts him to tell her the truth without her having to wrestle it away from him. 

He shrugs and looks down at his palms. 

“I don’t think so. I think it’s just jealousy in the due course.” 

She frowns.

“But-…” 

“Listen,” Ichigo cuts in because he’s kind of sick of her looking at this how  she  would and not how  he  does. That is the problem, he thinks. They are usually so well-aligned that she isn’t factoring it in that her love life, her relationship, and her partner are all very different from Ichigo’s. 

… but then, he doesn’t quite know how to put any of it in words.  I am a human teenager and I am not dealing with this the way you would so what you think is jealousy is just jealousy to me,  sounds about right but also humiliating. Not to mention confusing. He will have to rely on her understanding of tones to convey the difference between the two ‘jealousy’ after all and she isn’t really understanding much, which is the problem. 

Silence stretches on and she throws herself down so she is sitting right in front of him instead. 

“I don’t really know how to help you,” she admits and Ichigo frowns. 

“Did I ask you to?” 

“I feel compelled to, anyway.” She pauses and then, “Plus is there anyone else you talk to? Not that you’re talking to me right now.” 

“I don’t know how to,” he mutters. He  did  to Chad about everything once upon a time but going to your ex about your new crush sounds scummy no matter how mutual the break up was. “I just know it’s not as big as you’re making it out to be. The nervousness, the jealousy. I don’t think it’s about self-esteem, Rukia. Not this time, at least.” 

That seems to click a little better with her. She frowns in contemplation. 

“Okay, so what I am hearing is, you just need time.” 

Ichigo shrugs helplessly. There’s a loose thread hanging by the hem of her skirt and he plucks it out mindlessly. 

Time isn’t what he needs though. He has had so much of it. It’s not helping!

… and she knows that too. 

Ichigo scowls at the floor of his room and wonders why the swirls in the age-beaten wood don’t spell out the words he needs to explain this to her. He narrows his eyes and tries to concentrate and comes up with nothing. When he looks back up at her, he cries out in frustration instead. 

“Why are you all up my ass today? You’ve known about this for how long already now?” 

He watches her expression shift a degree. She glances away for a moment. She doesn’t like lying to him, not when she can help it and so Ichigo doesn’t dig in. He chooses to be patient instead, staring at her in silence as she, for once, is the one struggling to find the right words. 

In the end, she bursts out with-

“I am so incredibly  happy , Ichigo. I am so happy sometimes I feel like I am going to start crying. And I want you to feel that, too. I want  her  to feel that, too!” 

It’s usually Ichigo losing his cool and making dramatic declarations that he immediately decides are stupid and he had thought it would be fun to have the tables flipped but it’s not. She crumples when the words leave her and frowns a little as if she is only just catching up with her own self. He feels compelled to place a hand on her shoulder but she  has  been annoying him all day so he folds his arms instead and watches her wince. 

“You’re lovesick. That’s why.” He says as if to himself and Rukia rolls her eyes. 

“Don’t be an ass.” She pauses for a second.  “I realise now that it’s a little stupid. I wasn’t aware of my own reasoning till a moment ago though so you can’t give me too much shit.” 

“I am not going to.” He absolutely is, but later. She looks embarrassed enough for now. “I am happy you are happy.” 

She grins despite the red in her cheeks and looks a little like a maniac.

“I am very happy. I have- I have fucking loved him for  so long,”  she shivers as if the thought itself is a little enthralling and  there,  Ichigo feels it again, the stirrings of jealousy. He quashes it away and grins at her instead. 

“I have known he loved me for about just as long too and I thought- I thought it wouldn’t be so different but it is. It’s a world of a difference, you know?” 

Her teeth are all on display in a very non-Rukia smile, dripping with uncontainable joy. His chest feels warm and he drags her into a hug. She laughs loudly and hugs him tightly, and with more desperation than he has ever felt, Ichigo wishes for Orihime again. 

…

“Nerves!” Her voice is muffled through the wall of his closet but not enough to not wake him up. The sun hasn’t risen yet and the sky is still dark. Ichigo contemplates homicide. 

She slides the closet open. 

“It’s just nerves, isn’t it?!” She inquires, eyes wide like she has discovered a magic cure for some deadly disease. Ichigo throws a pillow at her face. 

… 

It  is  nerves and he wonders how he managed to make saying something so simple as complicated as this. 

Sometimes his brain just doesn’t work. 

“You just kept making it sound as if you thought you weren’t good enough for her and I know how you can get,” is what she provides by way of defence when he gets on her ass about harassing him so much the day before. Her answer should annoy him but it just warms his heart because yes, she does know how he can get, and yes, constantly grilling him is how she always makes him stop being the way he can get. He shakes his head and steals her apple, holding it over his head when she tries to take it back-  only,  Yuzu the traitor is offering her another now so he scowls at them both. 

“Honestly,” he mumbles into his stolen, half-eaten apple. “ Can  anyone be good enough for her?” 

Rukia grins at him in response. 

“See, that’s a way healthier attitude to have.” 

He flips her off. His phone lights up just then. It’s Instagram. He has post alerts on for all of his friends. 

As it happens to be, it’s Orihime. She has posted a picture of a few books and you can half see Renji in the frame but he isn’t supposed to be the focus of the picture. No, the spotlight is reserved for a frankly gorgeous-looking edition of one Vanity Fair by W.M. Thackeray. Ichigo likes the picture and feels a faint thrill in his gut when he realises he was the first one to. Then, he notices the thickness of the book and raises his brows. 

In all honesty, no. No one can ever be good enough for Inoue Orihime. Ichigo has pretty solid reasoning behind that argument too. It’s because she reads books like these and they always leave Ichigo in awe of her. It’s because she is a wizard when it comes to social media pictures of books like these; where she finds half of the filters she uses he doesn’t know but he could never possess that sort of patience. It’s because she bounces in place and keeps trying to tie her hair back only to untie it seconds later when she gets really animated talking about books like these and Ichigo can do nothing listen, grateful,  so grateful,  that he gets to have this. It’s because she makes playlists for book characters from books like these and she insists on playing them on road trips with the gang as she explains the plot of them. Ichigo doesn’t even  like  books but he loves it when Orihime talks about them, posts about them, raves about them. 

She is incredible. Pretty, kind, smart, generous, sweet, silly, strong, magical,  incredible. 

… and he isn’t good enough for her but he wants to spend the rest of his life trying to be. 

…

The races are unofficial, underground events. Tatsuki is way too good at bike racing for Ichigo to feel satisfied with her only participating in ones such as these.

He thinks it’s fucking unfair how she has to choose. She is great at Judo. She is great at racing. She should be able to have both. Chad is a tall, tattooed boxer and yet nobody at his swanky internship complains and whines about image and propriety and all that nonsense so no, Ichigo doesn’t believe it when he is told it’s for the sake of her image as a teacher. He knows the real reason it’s tough for her, just as she does. All he can do is support her though. So he does. At every race, every event, every time. All of them always will go wild for her. 

She loves it, no matter how much she grouches. For what it’s worth, she truly enjoys these races, too. 

So do all of them, some more than others. For instance, Renji is finding it all very interesting, so is Rukia, who has informed Ichigo she is planning to bring Byakuya to one of these sometime. Keigo loves the races and Orihime always seems to tear her voice box apart cheering. It’s nice to be here with all of them. 

Presently, he is sneaking glances at the girl next to him and trying to be stealthy about it. He shouldn’t worry so much though because Orihime is fidgeting so much she is unlikely to notice absolutely anything. She scratches at her neck and there’s an angry red stripe on her skin where the collar of her jacket would lay. The night  is  relatively warm and the venue is crowded. He can’t see how she can stand the jacket and feels slightly self-justified when Orihime finally shrugs it off. 

He extends a hand. She blinks down at it.

“I’ll hold it for you!” He calls out over the roar of the crowd, leaning forward. She inclines her head closer to his, probably to hear him better, and beams with gratitude before handing the jacket to him.  

He experiences a strange sizzle in the pit of his stomach as he slings the jacket over his arm. Holding her goddamn jacket shouldn’t feel this exciting but it does. He realises he is grinning and turns his face away to get his expression back under control, hyper-aware of the patch of skin her jacket touches. He presses his arm closer to himself, feels it against his stomach, and tries harder to get the flush in his cheeks to go down. 

Next to him, she is cheering out loud for Tatsuki. A few strands of her hair are sticking to the side of her face with sweat and he wonders if she will let him brush them away. 

The gong sounds for the final time and off the racers go. All about him, a whirlpool of maddening cries rise, people screaming at the tops of their lungs for their favourite racers. Ichigo doesn’t necessarily like it. He has never been fond of loud places but he can’t lie about how much he adores this very moment, the second it all begins. It is an experience nobody can want to miss. 

The race goes by as it always does, noisy and fast and thrilling in a way only speed events ever are. At one point, Orihime tips forward and nearly crashes out on the track. It becomes the highlight of the event for Ichigo, 

Tatsuki wins and everyone around him cheers so loudly Ichigo swears he can feel the ground beneath him starting to shake. He claps along with them except there are arms around his shoulder that he takes a second too long to notice, arms around his shoulders and softness by his side. He feels himself freeze. 

He was not prepared for her weight though and he stumbles into his friends, who stumbles into each other, and before they know it, they have caused an avalanche of panicked feet dancing around to avoid stepping on human skulls. Somehow, Ichigo picks himself up and takes off behind her because,  yes,  she has already run away.

Ichigo laughs to himself and follows her. 

He isn’t laughing for long. 

“Hey! That’s no way to talk to someone! She won fair and square, you douchebag!” Keigo calls out and Ichigo is glad somebody does because he, himself is still kind of trying to understand what the fuck is happening. He frowns at the asshole trying to get all up in Tatsuki’s face and has trouble tamping down on the urge to punt him headfirst into the ground. Tatsuki wouldn’t feel flattered. 

“Back the fuck up, mister,” Tatsuki growls out. She has not so much as raised her voice and Ichigo hopes somebody is keeping track of it all, purely from an eyewitness standpoint. 

The man smirks and Ichigo immediately sees red. The way he looks at Tatsuki is infuriating. 

“I demand a rematch!” He declares. 

“Tatsuki-chan, don’t give in! He’s just baiting you!” Orihime has that look on her face again, the earnest one in which her nose scrunches up and her mouth falls crooked like her face isn’t in fact as threateningly symmetrical as it is. Tatsuki, however, pays her no attention. 

“What are you fucking waiting for, then?” She asks as she gets off her bike. Ichigo bites back a curse, because,  fucking hell,  is she stupid?! He is going to cheat or play dirty or trick her or something. She won fucking fair and square! She shouldn’t have to do this again! 

“What-  no , that ain’t fucking fair! Is this allowed?” He asks out loud but nobody answers him. Everybody’s eyes are trained on the feuding rivals and Ichigo looks about for some sort of a manager or organiser or  something  except Mr. Asshole has turned his eyes on Orihime now. 

On second thoughts, he hopes Tatsuki  destroys  his fucking ass. 

…

Tatsuki does destroy his ass but he hates what she does after that because  did she have to? 

Did she have to look at Orihime like that? Did she have to blush when Orihime kissed her forehead? Ichigo snorts and tries to prevent his mind from replaying that moment in front of his eyes again. He  hates  Tatsuki. 

What’s worse is now Orihime can’t stop looking at her and Ichigo wants to break them apart, by force if he has to. It is a truly ridiculous thought because he has no right to. Out of desperation, anger, and sheer irritation he bursts out and says the first thing that comes to his mind, only to make them look away from each other. It turns out to be all for nothing though because everyone wants to get ice cream…

… except for Orihime and Tatsuki. 

Their group splits in two and Ichigo tries to appear as if he is still enjoying the night because obvious crush-related dampers aside, he  is.  He likes these people and he likes ice cream!

Rukia is still seated atop Renji’s shoulders and Keigo is saying something in Chad’s ear, an arm thrown around his waist for stability. Only Ishida and Mizuiro seem to have their eyes on the street in front of them and for that at least, Ichigo is thankful because he, himself doesn’t feel like he is all there. 

Renji slows down till Ichigo catches up with him and turns to him with an incomprehensible look in his eyes. 

“What you sulking for? Don’t act like this wasn’t your fault.” 

Ichigo frowns. 

“What?” 

“What?”  Renji imitates in a high-pitched voice that sounds  nothing  like Ichigo. Rukia giggles and just because he can, Ichigo tugs on her leg till she cries out in pain. 

“How is this my fault?” He blinks. “How is  what  my fault, actually?” 

Renji clicks his tongue and then refuses to elaborate. Ichigo furiously decides he hates him too. At the parlour, he pays for everyone’s ice creams but Renji’s.

“Ichigo,” he turns around at the familiar voice, after smiling at the vendor as he pockets his change. The ice cream cone looks comically small in Chad’s fist and Ichigo raises his brows. 

“Do you have a second?” 

Ichigo looks about himself- Renji and Rukia are talking to Ishida and Mizuiro is saying something to Keigo, who, to Ichigo’s surprise, sends him a nervous glance before quickly turning away. A little confused, Ichigo nods and follows Chad when he turns around to lead him to the side of the parlour, to a shadowy street corner unlit by the bright lights shining through the glass front of the shop. 

The thing with Chad is that he is impossible to read. It’s not even that he tries to be, he is just… extremely unexpressive. It is kind of impressive mostly because it has never stopped Ichigo from being able to tell what’s going on inside his head.

… and it doesn’t now. 

He is nervous. 

Ichigo feels himself take a step closer, almost placing a hand on Chad’s shoulder. This casual intimacy was never  theirs  though, not even when they were dating. They never spoke through touch and Ichigo doubts they ever will so he stands in place and eats his ice cream and waits for him to start talking. 

“I am dating Keigo.” 

Oh 

The worried glance makes sense now. 

Past the initial moment of surprise, Ichigo doesn’t feel particularly shocked. They had gone on a couple of dates before he and Chad got together, too and Ichigo had always worried Keigo would feel hurt over that. He said he didn’t, though but now, Ichigo begins to doubt that.

“I wanted you to hear from me.” 

Ichigo nods. He gives himself a second to sort of gather his reactions together and force them into a cohesive, easily-definable narrative except there aren’t very many and none too complex at that. Apart from worrying over Keigo’s feelings getting hurt when he dated Chad, Ichigo doesn’t really care… 

He isn’t even happy for them and he bites his lip when he recognises that. He wonders if it’s terribly shallow. It isn’t that he wants them to  not  be happy. It’s just that at this moment he can’t find it in himself to care all that much. 

“That’s cool,” he says. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Chad nods and says nothing more. Ichigo hopes he hadn’t expected a completely different reaction. 

Embarrassedly, he shoves a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. 

“You’re not angry,” Chad notes and it is only years and years of friendship that reveal to Ichigo that it is a question, a request for reassurance even. He softens.

“No. I swear I am not. Give me a bit and I will be happy for you two, I promise. I am just kind of exhausted today. I don’t think my brain is quite working right.”

Chad nods, this time with more conviction. Ichigo smiles up at him and hopes he isn’t misunderstanding things. 

Not that he, himself understands that reaction. He doesn’t want Chad anymore, of that he feels sure. 

“Do you think our breakup was… incomplete?”, he asks. Chad raises a brow at him and as Ichigo waits for an answer, he can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles on him. This is just like ever. Just like before. When he could just say whatever he wanted to Chad and Chad would always carefully consider his words before speaking them out loud. 

He realises they haven’t really done this since they broke up. 

“Incomplete?” He questions. 

“Not incomplete,” he corrects himself. “It’s just that we never even fought or cried or any of that. It just ended. And I thought that was fine but if it was fine… then I should be happy for you, right?” 

Chad watches him in silence and Ichigo feels like he had forgotten how intense his eyes can be. He glances down at his shoes instead. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Ichigo considers being polite and lying for about half a second but he doesn’t think he could, not when it’s Chad. 

“Like nothing. I am feeling nothing.”

“Isn’t that normal, Ichigo?” 

He looks back up at him and notices his hair is longer. His eyes are both uncovered though because he has pinned a side back. It is a nice style. 

“It is?” 

Chad nods and sticks his raspberry lolly into his mouth after he says, 

“I think it is. It isn’t that old, after all.” 

That is true. It isn’t, even if it feels like it is. 

“I mean,” he continues. “I didn’t feel any sort of way today either. Earlier, I mean. It was just a thing,” he shrugs. “It was what gave me the push to tell you actually. Since it seems like you’re moving on yourself.” 

Ichigo wonders if he should laugh, feels like he is about to. His body doesn’t have enough strength, however, so he just scoffs. 

“You could tell?” He raises a brow. 

Chad nods. 

“Think I have lost my chance with her,” he mutters. “You saw what happened tonight.” 

Chad doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that and Ichigo knows it means he agrees. A new weight settles on his shoulders and he realises he wants to throw his ice cream away. He doesn’t think he could stand eating anything just then. 

Shame. He quite likes the flavour. 

At least, Chad isn’t giving him the ‘there are loads of fish in the sea’ spiel, not that Ichigo expects it of him. He knows Ichigo doesn’t work like that, couldn’t if he tried. 

“Do you want a hug?” 

It is not like Chad to ask, it is not like him to offer at all. Despite his voice not wavering for a second, Ichigo can tell that he is pretty much forcing himself to. He knows him like the back of his own hand. 

Grudgingly, he smiles. 

“I don’t think Keigo would appreciate that.” 

Chad narrows his eyes a little and Ichigo should be used to feeling pinned under the weight of his calm, steady stare but somehow, he isn’t. It’s different now than it ever was before. 

“You’re an ex I am never going back to.” 

He bites his lip, debates feeling hurt, angry, embarrassed, whatever. It doesn’t make much sense to, he would have to force it. So, he doesn’t and instead replies- 

“I am the ex you went to after leaving him once before. I am also the ex who’s known your current longer than you have.” 

It’s true and it wipes that peculiar look off of Chad’s face. 

“Do you think this will make things change… between us?” 

Ichigo kicks out at nothing and wonders why nobody has come to interrupt them by now. Is it possible that everybody else already knows? Are they in on it? Is he the last to find out? 

“Haven’t they already?” 

Chad is done with his ice cream and he puts the stick in his pocket to dispose of properly later. 

“I was hoping they would go back to normal in time.” 

“Well, it’s still the same. Only now it’s not just about the two of us,” Ichigo says. 

Chad glances back over his shoulder and Ichigo follows his gaze. Keigo is no longer looking at them. 

“It can’t still be this awkward in ten years, can it?” Ichigo asks. The thought itself seems unlikely. There’s no way he would manage to hold himself at any type of distance from either Chad or Keigo. He likes them way too much for that. 

“Do these things always have to be this complicated?” Ichigo groans because this feels a little  stupid  and wholly illogical. Chad turns back to him, grins softly. 

“Not always. I think. We are only nineteen.” 

…

At night, a text arrives. It is from Renji, short and dry and simple and so incredibly powerful despite it all. 

‘She turned Arisawa down.’ 

Ichigo doesn’t want to admit to it and is entirely too thankful that Rukia is asleep inside her little closet, but he almost sheds a tear of pure thankfulness and relief. 

Almost. 

…

He curses himself when he sees the picture. He should have gone with them because she looks  stunning. 

His heart picks up pace and for no real reason. It’s just a picture. He has seen tons before, in cuter outfits. 

Except for that night, after he read Renji’s message, he promised himself that he was going to give this an honest try. No more pussyfooting around, absolutely not. He was going to ask her out and win her over like a gentleman. He has read it on Instagram and stuff that readers have very high standards in lovers. He isn’t looking to fall short. He has a whole plan, bullet lists, and a google doc. 

… and frankly, the club wasn’t a part of said plan. It would be sweaty, noisy, stinky, and not romantic  at all  except he hadn’t factored in the sight that she makes in a party dress and now he wants to die because he could have   been there but he is not because he is a stupid little idiot. 

Rukia  told  him to go. 

He slaps his own cheek and exhales out loud. It’s fine. There’s no point in sulking, he tells himself. Yes, she looks bloody amazing. All he can do about it now is tell her he thinks so. 

With shifty fingers, he clicks over to her inbox. Suddenly nervous, he backs out of it and goes back to her story instead.  It would be more natural to reply there, right?  He isn’t entirely sure. He doesn’t often do Instagram and he very rarely texts. He likes calling and he likes being face to face with the person he is talking to even better and Yuzu can call him his father’s son all she wants, texting just feels stressful and dry and tiring. 

He wonders if this is too unusual for him. He has replied to some of her posts in the past, usually with keyboard emoticons because she posts funny memes a lot. Frustrated, he scratches his scalp, the thumb holding down on the screen, keeping the story post from ending its loop starting to become stiff. It’s just a compliment, he screeches at himself in his own head. He can pay her one. Plus, it’s fine if it’s out of the usual, right? Gets the point across. 

His stomach is a bundle of familiar nerves, the ones Rukia couldn’t understand. His leg bounces and he is too preoccupied to get it to stop.  He can fucking compliment her, come on.  He grits his teeth and soldiers on. 

After all, he doesn’t think he could stand it if Orihime ever looked at anybody the way she looked at Tatsuki that day. No, he is pretty sure that he will combust on the spot. 

What he needed definitely wasn’t time, just desperation, he thinks. The right sort of desperation, the right  amount  of it. He doesn’t know if he has found it but he thinks he has come pretty damn close. 

He wouldn’t be the type to walk all over Tatsuki’s happiness but now that she’s out of the way… 

With a deep breath, Ichigo types out- 

‘You look good.’  

For someone out at the club, her reply comes pretty quickly. 

It is a simple ‘thank you’ but it hits Ichigo like a rush of relief so intense he mistakes the mania for confidence and wiggles around to sit up straight. He’s got this. Flirting is  easy,  he scoffs. He’s done it before. 

‘Won’t have said no if I knew you were gonna dress up like that.’ 

The moment the text flies, his newfound courage abandons him and he nearly tosses his phone out of the window, face red and throat producing a weird keening sound that he is scarcely aware of making. 

What happens next is embarrassing. 

‘you all*’ 

‘I mean’ 

‘hahaha typo.’ 

‘tell Renji he looks good.’ 

‘not Rukia though.’ 

‘like she does look good but don’t tell her I said that.’ 

‘very nicely dressed all of you.’ 

‘okay bye.’ 

‘Haha typo’? He dies a little inside, jumping out of bed in his grief-stricken frenzy when there’s a loud knocking at his door. 

“Ichi-nii, are you dying? Because you sounded like you were just now?” 

It’s Karin, not Yuzu and he knows she will make fun of him because Rukia has made it a point to air out all his dirty laundry so now his whole family knows about his crush and tells him twice every day how out of his league Orihime is. Yuzu even bought him a conditioner to make his hair look more attractive. Ichigo got so red, Isshin actually became worried. 

He has been using the conditioner religiously, since and to be fair, his hair  is  smoother. 

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe. The little one.” 

“Ooh!” He can imagine her grimacing. “That sounds awful. Well, call for help if you actually start dying, okay?” 

He thinks he might, as well. After that  stupidity…

He falls back down on his bed. She is  never  going to date him now!

…

Rukia laughs at him for a solid two minutes from inside a bathroom stall because she excused herself just to do that. He tries flipping her off with both his middle fingers and both his middle toes at once but it doesn’t work out. 

She makes fun of him till he nearly blows his top. Then, she hangs up with a promise - that sounds vaguely like a threat - to teach him how to behave in front of girls.  

…

She makes good on that promise, to Ichigo’s absolute horror. 

“Okay, so first of all, you  don’t  take compliments back. No matter how embarrassing you think saying that shit was.” 

Ichigo scowls at her because  who does she think he is?!  That’s fucking obvious! 

Except that is exactly what he had done so he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Because,” she smirks, standing atop his desk. “That makes  you  look stupid and pathetic. It doesn’t do anything else. Trust me on that one.” 

“It was a moment of weakness,” he spits out and Rukia stares down at him with the sort of expression that suggests she finds this whole thing extremely funny. 

“Well, don’t let it happen again. Also, you can do better than ‘you look good’ though the thing after that could have saved it if you hadn’t messed it all up.” 

The thing is, Ichigo is  good  at flirting. 

He doesn’t often do it so when he does he means it. He doesn’t find it hard to say nice things about people and he has been told he has a ‘stare’ that melts all hearts apparently. He is convinced he would have done better if face to face with her, entirely disregarding the fact that he would have said absolutely nothing if he were, in fact, face to face with her. 

God,  he groans and covers his face,  he is absolutely hopeless. 

“Renji was right you know,” she mutters. He hears her jump off the desk and patter around the room but doesn’t open his eyes, nor does he ask her what she means. She wouldn’t have said shit if she didn’t mean to elaborate. 

“I shouldn’t be saying this but it really isn’t a secret and you’re just extremely oblivious at times  but,”  she pauses, ever the dramatist. “She  likes  you, Ichigo. She genuinely does. But she won’t forever, not if you give her nothing in return.” 

Parting his fingers over his eyes, he shoots a glare at her that he can only hope adequately conveys how messed up he thinks this joke is.  Her expression looks dead serious though and Ichigo will swear for the rest of his life in all earnestness that at the moment, he physically feels something shift in the fabric of the universe, creating a ripple so resounding that he stumbles over it and finds himself gobsmacked and speechless, blinking at her with a vague sense of fear behind his eyes. 

Gently, her fingers come to rest on his cheek. 

“You’re shitting me,” he whispers. 

Rukia frowns. 

“No. People move on, Ichigo.” 

Ichigo clicks his tongue. 

“No. No! That’s not-  she likes me? Me?!” 

“That’s not the part you should be fixating on because she will move on-…” 

“…- I won’t let her!-…” 

“She’s actively trying to move on. She’s got like a synthesiser and stuff!” 

Ichigo frowns and wonders if he has enough time to get into exactly how the fuck those two things are related. He decides he doesn’t, more pressing issues abound. 

“Okay, so we just gotta  stop  that, right?” He gets to his feet. “I mean, you are sure? Like one hundred percent? Because this is a huge risk and if you’re just trying to manipulate me into going along with- okay, wait, that sounds way more likely than her having a thing for me. You’re just fucking around aren’t you?!” 

He is screaming by the end of this tirade because - and at this point, it feels like this is something buried deep inside his genetic code - his favourite way of dealing with anything involves a lot of yelling and squaring up. Sadly, Rukia isn’t providing him with the challenge she usually is willing to. 

It’s that more than anything that makes him shut up and force his gut to calm down. Rukia doesn’t look very amused and he can’t even find it in him to get irritated at her again. His body feels strangely weak which is annoying considering how he hasn’t done much with it all day and his hands just hang uselessly by his side as he stares down at her and waits for something, anything at this point.  His brain is suddenly more unreliable than it ever has been because he can’t stop picturing the flower pins by Orihime’s brow or that one evening in monsoon they all got in a mud fight outside the kids’ park and she discreetly wiped her hands on the back of his t-shirt then pretended to know nothing when he turned to her. He smiles and decides that maybe he shouldn’t enjoy the familiar way in which his chest tightens when he thinks about her but he does anyway. 

To think she likes him… 

Ichigo feels an itch begin to crawl up the back of his knee but somehow he can’t move to get at it so he remains in place and keeps thinking about her instead. 

“Rukia…” his voice comes out breathless and unsteady. A smile spreads across Rukia’s face at that and he wonders what she understood by his tone that he can’t yet see. 

“Yes?” 

He takes a deep breath. 

“What’s tip number two?” 

…

A text message from Renji informing him that he is accompanying Rukia, Byakuya, Kenpachi, Yachiru, and Orihime to the amusement park and Ichigo needs to show up is not how he was expecting his chance to arrive but that’s what’s happening now so he slaps his cheeks a couple of times and puts on his hottest shirt. 

On his way out, he hugs his sisters because he feels like he needs the moral support. When they ask where he’s going, dressed like that, he doesn’t lie and they cheer and holler and it makes him feel better somehow so he arrives with a grin and runs into Renji by the soda stall. 

“You’re here!” He says with an enthusiasm that goes beyond friendship, torpedoing into the territory of ‘I-have-too-many-cups-to-carry-and-too-few-limbs-to-carry-them-with’ dilemmas, which coincidentally, seems to be the case with Renji. So, Ichigo doesn’t let his excitement get to his head and tells himself to keep it in the game. 

Renji frowns down at his shirt. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks. 

Ichigo would usually have a few things to say to that except he’s so nerve-wracked that all he does is thank Renji when he swiftly undoes a couple more buttons on his shirt and nods like he finally approves of his outfit now. 

“Where are they?” he asks, while the vendor, very carefully, sticks a cup between their arms to keep it balanced. 

No way in fuck are they doing a second trip. 

“Not too far off. Watching a magic show. Also, don’t be weird about Kuchiki-taichou and Zaraki-taichou, okay? He’s still a little sensitive about it all.” 

Ichigo lifts a brow. 

“Byakuya or Kenpachi?” 

“Both, actually.” 

He snorts. 

Ichigo has gone through his entire acquaintance with Orihime acutely aware of how attractive she is mostly because it’s very hard not to notice. Only a little while ago did she suddenly become capable of making his throat dry up with a flick of her hair though and it’s yet more recent- the way he always finds his heart pierced right through when he sees her these days. 

He hadn’t thought anyone could look this good in yellow but she does. She’s laughing, and at him, by the looks of it but he can’t mind- not when her tummy is doing its cute jiggly thing and her mouth is open wider than it usually is because she is always insecure about that and rushes to cover her lips when she laughs. 

Right as they enter the others’ hearing range (because he’s only noticing it now but Orihime along with Rukia and Yachiru is seated on top of Kenpachi’s shoulders with Byakuya standing to the side, arms crossed across his chest) Renji dips his head closer to Ichigo’s and whispers, 

“By the way, she got a tattoo along her side ribs.” 

Ichigo is positive his face erupts in the most violent shade of red. Thankfully, he has no time to overreact because her eyes are on his and she’s smiling and he  can’t make this weird for fuck’s sake- 

“Hi, Orihime.” 

Her eyes widen. Then, she smiles. 

They hand the drinks around and Ichigo tries not to stare so obviously that some well-meaning citizen would mistake him for a creep. Byakuya nods at him, Kenpachi grins, Yachiru says something he can’t focus on because there are eyes on him,  on his chest, to be specific,  and he loves that. 

He wriggles in place and physically feels his chest puff up to fill his shirt better, a giddy smile threatening to break out. He feels sexy under her gaze. 

“Okay show’s over, you three can get off now,” Kenpachi says at some point. Ichigo isn’t aware enough of his surroundings to perceive the passage of time just then. Rukia skips off his shoulder like she’s done it a million times before and Ichigo glances at Renji. He isn’t exactly the same height as Kenpachi but he’s still quite tall. He turns back to Orihime, satisfied in his conclusion that Rukia has jumped off tall peoples’ shoulders a million times before, and notices that she obviously hasn’t. She gathers her skirt in her hands and looks about nervously. It is natural to step forward when their eyes meet, show up by her side before he recognises that he needs to. She nods at him. Kenpachi bends a little and carefully, with his heart going a million miles a minute in his chest, Ichigo wraps his arms around her waist.  

Her hands grip his shoulders and for a second, he is more proud of how in-shape he is than he ever has been. She’s looking right at him though so he can only spare that thought about a fraction of a second before his heart gets knocked out of his chest and he finds it full with a feeling so soft he has no other name for it but love. 

He loves her and this time, the realisation feels like everything it’s cracked up to be. 

There’s a sharp voice, Yachiru’s, and Ichigo flies back a step, suddenly aware that he had been holding her longer than he had to, tracing silver and blue and black in the grey of her eyes. Behind her, Rukia is making some aggressive, and frankly lewd gestures, which Ichigo takes for a directive to shoot his shot  now.  His body tightens up of his own accord and he cries out,  actually cries out, 

“ How was your day! Orihime!” 

… and then, immediately after, he thinks-  well, using stupid voices wasn’t one of Rukia’s tips. 

Then Rukia is talking shit and Byakuya is spitting nonsense and the moment is gone because Orihime is looking at  them  now, her mouth a confused pout and her eyes wide and blinking and  holy shit she has a tattoo,  Ichigo thinks and nearly dies a little.

“Oh, shut up! Shut up!” Ichigo calls out, pointing at no one in particular. He turns back to Orihime and decides he needs to take her away from these people as soon as he possibly can because they are all awful and she shouldn’t be subjected to their idiocy. 

“Where are your toys?” He grabs her arm, which is somewhat less romantic than the hand that he should have aimed for instead. “Did none of these idiots win you toys? What did you even come to a theme park for? Come on, I’ll do it!”

He begins dragging her except it’s not exactly dragging because she’s skipping and laughing (possibly at him) behind his back as he desperately casts out for some sort of a game stand awarding people with the toys he had seen piles of with Yachiru and Rukia. He finally finds one and begins sprinting. Orihime laughs harder but keeps pace. 

“There! Name any toy and I will win it for you!” 

This,  he’s sure he can do without making a fool of himself.  He will win her the sickest toy, ever,  he decides,  and then buy her candy floss and anything else she might want. Balloons too!  Even though Ichigo thinks they are fucking stupid. 

A stuffed purple popsicle is what she wants which is a perfect choice, according to Ichigo. The colour is very… fetching. He nods. 

“You have to get five in to win that one,” the man at the stand tells them. Ichigo hands him his money and is handed ten rings in exchange. 

The only problem is that his aim is about as good as Renji’s singing voice and maybe he should have taken that into consideration before dragging her to a ring tossing game but here they are now so he can do nothing but feel embarrassed as he turns to her to apologise.  

She frowns a little at his expression and then nods slightly to herself before turning back to the vendor. 

“Give me five rings for free and I’ll get them all in. If I miss, I’ll pay you double.” 

The vendor agrees and hands the rings over with a certain cockiness that suggests he doesn’t quite believe that she will win. Ichigo throws him a glare in support of Orihime. 

When she gets every single ring in, Ichigo isn’t as surprised as the vendor. She is scarily good at all sorts of random things. He kind of expects perfection from her and she is yet to disappoint. 

Plus, he fucking  adores  the look on her face when she is all focussed. It is intense and a little scary. Her canines poke out over her lips and they are sharper than you would usually catch on anyone else. Ichigo is a little obsessed with that sight. 

“For you.” 

Then, there’s a purple popsicle plush being extended his way, and stunned, Ichigo accepts it. A second later, he presses it against his chest, almost hopeful the softness of it would do something to muffle the loud thumping of his heart because he is about half sure that Orihime will hear it otherwise. 

The sensation taking over his body, colouring his skin a furious red is fresh and nerve-wracking. He feels like he is about to combust.

“Do you like it?” She grins. 

He laughs, he shakes his head, he licks his lips, and then he steps closer. Words are falling short of him again and he doesn’t know how to tell her-  how to show her  just how fucking incredible he thinks she is, just how fucking incredible the way he makes his heart feel is. 

“That’s not fair. I was supposed to give you something.” 

“There’s still something you can give me,” she says and Ichigo perks up. 

“What is it? Tell me!” 

Her request leaves him floored, blushing to the very roots of his hair but floored nevertheless. Almost mechanically, he holds his arms open and she rushes in like she has been wanting this for a while now. 

… possibly even as long as he has. 

‘She likes you, Ichigo. She genuinely does.’

He tightens his hold and feels her breath fan the tiny, shaved hair under his chin. It is nice to hold her, it feels a lot like he had always imagined it would, except better because even at the best of his imaginative glory, Ichigo couldn’t have recreated how- how  much  she is. 

Very much,  he decides and he has no words for it. 

Her arms are tight around his waist and Ichigo remembers the tattoo she supposedly has. Before he knows it, he is blushing again, and pushing her away against the urge to draw her in closer. 

He can’t risk it, not with  that  sort of a thought in his head. 

Tattoos are just very hot. He doesn’t believe he stands to be blamed. 

“Orihime,” he says. The butterflies in his stomach are rioting and he gulps at the intensity of the colour of her eyes. “Do you- would you want to go on a date with me?”