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Summer heat meandered into Ichigo’s room on lazy sun beams. The sky was so vibrantly blue it seemed as if someone had spilled a bucket of paint on a huge billboard. It could have been a perfect day to curl up in the shade and read a book between short naps. Could have been.
Instead of sipping iced tea with a slice of lemon, Ichigo was searching his room for Kon.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, little bastard,” he growled. He kicked a stray pile of clothes into the air and listened for the whimper of fear that would give away Kon’s position. A muffled squeak came from the far corner under his bed. “Gotcha.”
He dove under the mattress with a thump. Kon was huddled in the back corner, flattened against the wall. His beady eyes stared out from the dimness. Fuzzy paws shook as they covered his mouth. Ichigo snatched him up and wiggled out from under his bed like a worm at a rave. He tore Kon’s hands away and aimed to stuff his arm to the elbow in the plushie.
“WAIT!” Kon shouted, arms flailing wildly. Granting extremely kind mercy, Ichigo waited. “Why do you need my soul pill right now? I should get a say in whether it's a good enough reason to validate missing tea time with Yuzu.”
“You do tea time with my sister?” Ichigo had the mental image of Kon in a frilly pink dress sipping an empty cup of tea next to dead-eyed stuffed animals. He snickered. Kon pounded a soft fist against his wrist indignantly. “Yeah yeah okay you can get some say. But only because I want to see you in a pink dress. I’m meeting someone and I need to not have my physical body.”
Kon dropped his arms. His eyes were half lidded and even his stuffed animal body without eyebrows managed to scrunge together some fabric to express his defeat. “It’s Grimmjow.”
Ichigo had the decency to blush. “Doesn’t matter who I’m meeting. I told you I need to be in my spirit so pop that pill out or I take it from you by force.”
Sighing heavily, Kon shuffled his mysterious stuffed animal organs around until a sphere was visible under the felt. He stopped short of shoving it up his throat. “Promise me this time you’ll kiss him after you kick his ass. I really can’t take another night of tending wounds while you mope about your crush.”
“I don’t mope!” Ichigo faltered under the intense glare his pet/friend shot him, “fine, I do mope. I’ll ask him to the movies or something once I pound his ass into the ground.”
“That’s not the way people usually do these things but sure, pound away,” Kon said. He yacked up his soul pill before Ichigo could protest further.
Hours later, when the moon had risen and the cool breeze was finally making the air bearable, Ichigo stumbled into his room. He was openly bleeding from several parts of his body, clutching his right arm tightly to his chest, and his left cheek was so bloated and bruised his eye was hidden. Kon dropped his tea cup.
“Holy shit, I’ll take it either you lost or he didn’t want to go to the movies!”
Ichigo shrugged and slumped onto his bed like a salted slug. “Yes,” was all he could manage to say. He had a moment to find a trash can before spitting out a glob of blood.
Kon grabbed the medi-kit in the closet and got to work. As usual, he didn’t have enough bandaids. Antiseptic ointment went on open wounds, wrapped up in clean new bandage, then an ice pack slapped on the face bruise. He clapped when he was done and sat on the pillow above Ichigo.
“Alright, mope away,” he commanded.
Ichigo groaned, slapping a hand over his face before quickly removing it from his cheek. “Last week, I told him I’d end this shit by finally beating him once and for all. I don’t know why I said it, blame the adrenaline rush post-fight. We never really reach a finish when we fight. He does some slashes, I run around him, he goes catboy mode and kicks me a few times, I slice him up. By the time the sun sets we’re out of chatting about some philosophy problem between punches. Then he usually stops and says we’ll go again next week. End of.”
“But?” Kon prompted. He was carding his fingers through Ichigo’s hair, gently tugging mud and blood out of the strands. Ichigo relaxed into the feeling of his own hands and let it continue.
“But… I think he really trained for it this time. He came out with this flying scratch to my side and I froze. His eyes were just so blazingly blue. The whole fight was done before I could get into bankai. I think he was as surprised as me. I landed hard on my back and he stood over me with this weird look on his face. ‘What, no bickering this time?’ he said. He was so cocky but there was this thing in his tone like he was sad.” Ichigo leaned his head back and looked Kon in the eyes, “I did it. I asked him out. Blurted it out right then and there with dirt in my mouth and everything.”
Kon’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. Holy SHIT. What did he say? Was it a yes?”
“Well, first he pulled me up and kissed me so hard I blacked out a little. Then he punched me in the face. Then he sonido-ed off somewhere. So, I’m not really sure?” Ichigo shrugged and winced at the motion.
“That was a yes. That’s a Grimmjow yes. Holy shit he said yes,” Kon threw his arms in the air and smiled, “So when’s the date and do you need me there to chaperone? I’ll be there no matter what you say.”
“Okay so that’s the really funny part about this,” Ichigo fumbled in his pocket for something, “We already did the date.”
In his wrapped up hand was the stub from a movie ticket. Though it wasn’t an actual movie ticket. Kon knew that scrawled handwriting by heart; it was a fake movie ticket for Urahara’s video screenings that happen every other night behind his shop.
“Tonight was ‘Frienemies’ and Grimmjow loved it. We’re on for a movie again two days from now.”
“Wow. And all that because I told you to finally grow some balls,” Kon said, amazed.
“You’re a stifling mother and a nosy bastard who can’t help playing matchmaker. And I’d be lost without you.” Ichigo punched him weakly. They fell into a fit of laughter that devolved into groaning when that reopened Ichigo’s wounds.