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The Vizards have started a betting pool on who Ichigo is going to end up dating.
The betting itself isn’t particularly novel — a hundred years or so is a long time, and they have placed bets on everything and anything. From the most inconsequential (how many times can Hiyori lose her temper in a day? Answer: Infinite) to the mildly interesting (how many wounded or ailing creatures is Hachi likely to bring back with him after a day outside? Answer: Four, if you counted the neighbour's cat who wandered in alongside him as he walked in) to the downright ridiculous (in the making of Ururu and Jinta, there must surely have been a surrogate that carried the children to term. The likely candidates — Tessai, Yoruichi, or Urahara himself?). The answer to that last one is, surprisingly, inconclusive.
What is novel is the subject in question — Ichigo. Is it their fault that Ichigo's suitors are so numerous and so varied? Every single one of the Vizards is more than a little fond of him, and they just want to see him happy and tease him about normal high school boy things, especially in this Aizen-less world he has helped create. This is normal, nothing to see here.
At least, that's what Shinji keeps telling himself.
*
They end up talking about it on a warm summer night, beers in hand as they lounge around their warehouse, shooting the shit and talking nonsense. The sun still hangs low in the sky, unwilling to set; cicadas humming away endlessly. Hachi takes bets and acts as secretary, mostly because he’s the only one of the Vizards who can be reliably trusted not to cheat.
Kensei, Mashiro, and Love are die-hard Team Orihime supporters. She’s a sweet kid too and just so lovely that it’s hard for anyone to dislike her. Orihime’s enemies are everyone’s enemies. Not only that, she’s basically the only one qualified to be his high-school sweetheart, which gives her a leg-up on everyone. That’s their reasoning, anyway. Shinji can see it, there’s a reason why he tried to convince her that she was his first love, after all. She’s just as cute as a button, and with a will of iron to boot.
Mashiro is convinced that Ichigo will finally realise his feelings on the day of their high school graduation, just before it is too late. “Come on,” she says. “I can picture it already! It goes a little something like this…”
SCENE: It's gotta be in an empty classroom bathed in golden light. I don't make the rules, that's just how all the good stuff starts. Orihime is standing in front of the blackboard, adding to the beautifully drawn final message with all of their classmates’ sentiments Enter Ichigo, who has come to clear out his locker. He says: Oh, Inoue. I thought you’d left. They do their own tasks in silence for a while, then it becomes clear that Orihime is only waiting for Ichigo so they can leave together. But because Ichigo is such an oblivious boor, so oblivious that I kinda want to SUPER MASHIRO KICK him right at this point, but anyway he tells her to go on ahead without him, he’s going to take a while. She says she doesn’t mind waiting, but he insists. She gives him a last longing look before she goes. It's a really good longing look too, but obviously he doesn't notice. He continues packing up his things, then stops. He’s realised something. We don't get to see what's inside his head but come on, you can put it together. He’s running out of the classroom in search of Orihime, who is crossing the wide and empty school grounds on her own. Inoue, he calls out. She turns around, surprised to see him. Ichigo is red-faced and stammering. Let’s get dinner soon? Now they’re both blushing. The credits are rolling but it’s filled with photos of their first date, their first holiday, their wedding, their first kid…
“Enough of this sappy bullshit,” Kensei grumbles, cutting Mashiro's stream-of-consciousness spiel short. “Ichigo is clueless, but not that clueless. I think it would go more like this…”
SCENE: Orihime and her friends are, I dunno, doing girly shit. Chatting and stuff. Ichigo slams open the door because, you know, he's a man and all. He says, Oi, Inoue. I want you to be my girlfriend. And that's it! Everyone cheers or whatever. I slap him on the back and take him out for a drink.
At that, Shinji has to laugh, as do the others.
“Are you kidding me?” Love scoffs. “High school romance is so overdone. It’s boring. I’d like to think that Orihime will forever be his one that got away…”
SCENE: A smoky little bar after their ten-year high school reunion. So stay with me here, but I think they would obviously stay in touch after everything they've been through but you know how it is, people drift apart and everything. So maybe they still wish each other happy birthday and happy new year and all, but they just aren’t that close any more. And yeah, Ichigo is living his life or whatever but he can’t help thinking about her now and then and wondering how she’s doin’. Alright, alright, anyway I’m getting to the point. So they have their high school reunion at a restaurant and then they head off to a bar after that. But at the end of the night, it’s just the two of them left. Then one thing leads to another, she’s laughin’, he’s laughin’, maybe when they finally get kicked out of the bar… they kiss. And that’s that, it all just falls into place, simple as pie.
“Yeah right,” Hiyori jeers. “Y’all go for the simple option, the borin’ way out. Cowards!”
She and Hachi are staunch supporters of Team Rukia as Ichigo’s one true love, and often nearly come to blows (mostly on Hiyori’s part, except when Hachi is holding her back) with the Team Orihime truthers (okay, it’s mostly Mashiro and Love vs. Hiyori on this one because both are convinced they are right). Another pairing that Shinji can sorta see the sense of. Rukia brought Ichigo into this world, she damn well has the right to take him out… errr, in the romantic sense, of course. The age gap doesn’t really bother them, they’ve both reached a decent age. They’re all dead, for crying out loud, there’s little difference between a person that’s died a hundred years ago and someone who’s died more recently. At that point, you take any kind of comfort you can get. But naturally, humans are a little more squeamish about that sort of thing, with good reason in many cases.
When asked, Hiyori explains, “Ya see, it should be more like this…”
SCENE: The human world, duh, because nothing can keep those two apart. The thing is that Rukia is a girl after my own heart, she knows what she wants and she ain’t afraid of takin’ it. Not only that, she can beat his ass! So here’s the deal. Ichigo is in school or whatever, and she just busts in, throws him over her shoulder, and gets the hell outta there! Sure, he’s gonna put up a little bit of a fight, but at the end of the day you know he’s into being dominated by a woman like her —
Hachi clears his throat. “Ahem, well. Well I agree with many of Hiyori’s sentiments, I believe that their romance would be a little bit more… civilised.” A brief interlude as Hiyori protests against Hachi’s choice of words, before she’s shushed by Lisa. Hachi continues. “As I was saying, I think the core elements are there, but their dynamic is more one of star-crossed lovers rather than such raw emotions…”
SCENE: The pearly-white or rather wooden gates of Soul Society… after Ichigo has completed living out his natural lifespan and has passed peacefully into the next world. Rukia is waiting for him — of course she is, his protector and saviour, the woman who is and has been everything to him and he to her. He emerges, or materialises, intact. As young as he is now, the weary burden of the world shed as he prepares for his new life. They look at each other. It’s as if no time has passed at all, they are still so familiar with each other that they don’t have to say anything, really. But Rukia speaks first. Took your time, she says. Ichigo just smiles back. He walks toward her, and they walk into Soul Society and the rest of their life together.
“Boring!” Hiyori snarls, chucking her can at Hachi’s head, the latter gracefully turning to dodge it.
“Look, I applaud your commitment to romance,” Lisa says. “But I think you’re all neglecting a crucial part of the process here, and that’s the sexual tension of enemies to lovers.”
Shinji shakes his head. Lisa, being Lisa, her porn-manga-loving lesbian self, naturally has a take that is pretty different from the rest of them. She’s got two hats in the ring, which is not technically allowed but also everyone is so sure that she’s not going to win that they let her have it anyway. Her first champion is Ishida (makes sense, kind of on the same wavelength as the reasoning behind choosing Orihime), and her second champion is Grimmjow, of all people (savage, raw brutality, yes, well… Ichigo does have that side to him). She explains, “So with Ishida, I’m naturally predisposed to support him as a fellow megane. But this is what I’m thinking…”
SCENE: So they’re in the boys’ locker room, and they’re just changing, getting dressed for sports or something. Ichigo catches sight of Ishida. His lean body honed by years of training, disappearing under a white shirt. He swallows down the desire he doesn’t have a name for yet, and looks away. He doesn’t say or do anything, not then, but he starts having really vivid dreams about Ishida. Touching his hair, smelling his skin, all that good stuff. He still doesn’t do anything. Then one summer day, they’re walking back home in silence, there’s nothing to say because they know each other so well, they just keep each other company. But it starts raining. They’re running for cover, to the nearest abandoned bus-stop to wait it out. They’re both soaking wet. Ichigo turns and looks at Ishida, his glasses beaded with those little raindrops, hair plastered to his face. He’s the most beautiful goddamn thing Ichigo has seen, so without thinking, Ichigo leans in and just kisses him. Ishida kisses back and then —
“Alright, alright,” Shinji clears his throat. “Save the rest, we don’t need to hear the details right now. I know you could prob’ly go on forever.”
Lisa rolls her eyes but acquiesces. “Fine. My other candidate is Grimmjow.”
SCENE: To be quite honest, I think this is the more unlikely of the two. I can see Grimmjow drawing Ichigo out in a more antagonistic relationship, but to be honest, I just think that they are both hot and so they should fuck. There isn’t much imagination required for that, at least, my thoughts would be far too explicit for you prudes…
A groan rises up from the rest of the Vizards. Lisa ignores them, still musing, “But then again, I think there might be great potential in all three of them — Ishida, Ichigo, and Grimmjow — as a triple pairing…”
“C'mon,” Shinji says. “Ya just want to see an attractive twink destroyed by two hot, muscular men, it doesn't necessaily haf'ta be those specific three, am I right?”
“And what about it?” Lisa shrugs. “Don’t tell me you can’t see it? Those planes of muscle Ichigo’s put on are not just practical, they’re aesthetically pleasing too.”
Except, Shinji can. The image hits him like a blow to the side of the head, so suddenly that a shiver runs over his body. Yes, he can definitely imagine Ichigo with his shirt off, sandwiched between, over, on top of two men, sweat dripping down his back as he —
Oh, Shinji thinks. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone there.
“My sensibilities are similar to Lisa’s,” Rose starts, “But I take a far more classical approach, mine sings to the traditions of Ancient Greece and Rome. Which is to say, translated into the plebeian language, I think that Ichigo would end up with an older man, going by his dislike for authority and yet simultaneously his general gravitation towards those said figures. So my bet is going to be placed squarely on the elder of the Kuchiki siblings, Kuchiki Byakuya.”
A round of heckling ensues. Rose merely puts up a hand. “Think carefully about it.”
SCENE: Kuchiki Manor, when the cherry blossoms are just in bloom. Ichigo is in a beautiful yukata, which was once Byakuya’s. We never get close enough to hear their conversation, but we see Byakuya lift Ichigo’s chin with a fan, to draw him in closer for a kiss. It’s a beautiful picture, Byakuya’s noble profile and Ichigo’s youthful countenance… don’t you see it now? The two of them lying there in the cherry blossoms, slowly disrobing under the moonlight, the cries of joy and pleasure as they —
“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” Shinji says. “Are you learning from Lisa? Stop making us listen to your explicit fantasies, I’m pretty sure that counts as sexual harassment at this point!”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with a little tasteful nudity,” Rose says primly, but at least he doesn’t elaborate any further. He shares a long-suffering look with Lisa as if to say ah, what do you do with the uncultured?
“Well, what about you, baldy?” Hiyori shoots at Shinji. “You’ve been awfully quiet through all this. Don’t tell me you know somethin’ that we don’t?”
All eyes flick towards him, waiting to see what he’ll say.
There’s only one thing Shinji is pretty sure that Rose and Lisa have gotten right, and that is that Ichigo is probably into men, with an emphasis on older men. The thing is, he’s even pretty sure he knows who Ichigo’s really into. He’s seen the way that Ichigo looks at Urahara, how he even blushes sometimes while trying to hide it under his brusque manner. He’s noticed that the behaviour is particularly pronounced when Urahara has his stupid five o’clock shadow going on, or if he’s somehow forgotten (yet again) to pull the lapels of his shirt closed — so, most of the time. If Shinji really wanted to embarrass the boy, he’d lay it all out in the open for the other Vizards, just to win the stupid bet. But he doesn’t say or do anything except give a light grin.
“Nah, I got nothin’. I’m battin’ for Team Rukia,” he says, draining the last of his beer. Hiyori crows in satisfaction loudly enough for the entire team as Mashiro, Kensei, and Love all groan in despair.
*
By the time enough time has passed for Shinji to put the bet out of his mind, he starts bumping into Ichigo more often. He’s been hanging around Urahara’s shop more often, taking jobs from the shopkeeper of the hunting-down-debtors variety, or the occasional fetch quests from Soul Society. It passes the time, and Urahara isn’t stingy with the compensation. He’s lounging at the front of the shop and scaring away potential customers by grinning at anyone who dares to get too close when Ichigo arrives.
“Aren’t ya supposed to be in school?” Shinji asks. It is the middle of the day. Surely Ichigo has better places to be, even if Shinji doesn’t.
“Summer project,” Ichigo says gruffly. “I have to start saving up for college. And I need to write a report for school. Something about the fact that I learned something or contributed to society in some way.”
“Hah,” Shinji laughs. “If only they knew, huh?”
Ichigo’s face relaxes slightly at that, and he laughs sheepishly. “Yeah. It all seems kinda pointless now, I suppose.”
Shinji cocks his head to contemplate Ichigo as they speak. His face has the same air they all do, of unease during peace time, of the uncertainty that settles in after constantly having to look over one's shoulder. He's turned into a very handsome man, the lines of his face steady and sure.
“So what’s Urahara got ya doin’?”
Ichigo reaches up to ruffle the back of his hair. Shinji has to pointedly look away at the thin line of stomach revealed by the lifting of his shirt. Nope, not confronting any of that right now, nope, nope, nope. The problem of listening to all your fellow exiles’ fantasies is that the picture you get of the guy you technically owe your life to gets a little far too vivid. He is looking away, eyes not straying below Ichigo’s neck right now.
“He just wants to run a couple of tests on me. Something about my genetic make up. Physical limits. Weird Urahara stuff.”
“Kurosaki-kun…! I hate to interrupt your chat with Hirako-taicho, but this liquid is extremely time-sensitive and we have about five minutes to see what it does to your delicious, delicious self before it denatures! If it does, I shall be extremely cross!” Urahara trills. His voice comes from somewhere in the depths of the shop.
“Well, gotta go be a guinea pig,” Ichigo says. “See you around, or whatever.”
Shinji watches Ichigo go with languid interest, trying to discern if his expression is a little more eager, if his step is a little lighter after being summoned by Urahara. Unfortunately, the boy is a total enigma. All Shinji can observe is that Ichigo moves as if he is entirely in control of every single muscle of his body, in a fluid way that is almost heartbreaking. How can he return to normal, after everything he’s been through? Shinji’s sure he’ll find a way. Ichigo always does.
*
After the third time that Orihime is sent on a wild goose chase by Mashiro and Love to Urahara's shop under the pretense that Ichigo wants to see her, Shinji decides he has to step in. It's partly out of pity for the poor girl, but also because it fascinates him that Ichigo seems to be actively hiding from her. The first time she arrives, Ichigo blanches, but tries to hide it. Shinji watches from where he’s lounging on the rooftop with interest, as they both look confused — and then, unsure? Of what to say to each other, how to navigate the space with them. It’s less romantic than it is… awkward. It’s clear how much they care for each other, but it’s almost as if they’ve forgotten how to speak to each other. The second time she’s sent over, she brings a bag of treats from her part-time job at the bakery. They sit in silence again, just watching the pedestrians walk by. Then Orihime walks home and Ichigo goes in the opposite direction. The third time, Ichigo just doesn’t appear. Shinji knows he’s hiding somewhere in Urahara’s shop, pretending he can’t see Orihime. He puts the poor girl out of her misery.
“You know, they’re lyin’ to ya,” Shinji says, landing lightly next to her.
Orihime looks at him with her beautiful brown eyes, so full of sadness. “I know. I just wanted an excuse to come and see him. I’m worried about him. We all are. He’s… acting differently.”
Shinji holds his tongue.
Orihime gives him a deep bow. “Please keep an eye on him for us, Shinji-san!”
“Alright, alright,” he promises. “I’m sure Ichigo will be fine. The dust just needs to settle a lil’.”
It’s a good while after Orihime’s back has disappeared from sight before Ichigo finally emerges, looking a little chastened.
“Thanks,” he mutters to Shinji, who is on the porch, pretending to be sleeping.
Shinji cracks one eye open. “Oh? What for?”
“For dealing with Inoue,” Ichigo says.
“You can repay me by tellin’ me why you’re hiding from her,” Shinji says, yawning and stretching as if the question is of no consequence to him at all.
Ichigo hesitates. “Maybe another time. I’m still figuring it out myself.”
*
They keep crossing paths at Urahara’s shop. Sometimes Urahara enlists Shinji in helping him measure… whatever it is he’s trying to gain from pushing Ichigo to his physical and mental limits, and they spar. It’s not quite the same as back when they were training Ichigo to fight against, then with, his hollow. When Ichigo had his powers, he was more confident, more sure of himself. Now, all Shinji can taste from him is desperation and loneliness.
This combat is limited to hand to hand, but every fight with Ichigo is more ferocious than the last, as if he’s throwing himself into battle to forget about whatever it is that troubles him, as if each blow is his last.
At one point, Shinji has Ichigo pinned down, hand raised to hit him, but he hesitates. The bloodlust blazes in Ichigo’s eyes.
“Hit me!” he shouts, straining. “Why are you holding back?”
This isn’t right. Shinji glances at Urahara, who thankfully, steps in.
“That’s enough for today,” Urahara says. Shinji slips out quietly to let him tend to the few injuries Ichigo has. He sees their heads together, bowed in earnest conversation. He wonders what they could be saying to each other.
*
A long gap of quiet after their ill-fated battle. Urahara sends Shinji away on an extended mission to fetch something or another from one of the other Soul Societies in London. He returns from the cold and wet to find that it is still summer, and Ichigo is there, lying on the roof in Shinji’s usual spot when he steps back through the gate and into the warm, dry courtyard in front of the shop.
“Welcome back,” Ichigo says. So, everything smoothed over, then? Shinji throws him a grin and a wink and goes into Urahara’s shop to deliver the ill-gotten goods.
By the time he’s finished answering all Urahara’s questions and exited, the moon is high in the sky and Ichigo is still there on the rooftop, staring up at the stars.
He should just go home. This isn’t really any of his business. And yet how is it that he is now on the roof too, settling down next to Ichigo with his stash of beers swiped from the shop just before leaving?
Ichigo only looks at him once Shinji has cracked a can open, offering it with an outstretched hand. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Nothin’ like it after a long day of work,” Shinji says, drinking deep of his own.
They sit there in silence, drinking and looking at the sky.
“Is it always going to be like this?” Ichigo finally asks.
“Yes,” Shinji replies. “And… no.”
Without much prompting, he can easily conjure the memories immediately after he and the other Vizards were exiled from Soul Society, those disorienting, strange days when they believed that all was lost, that they had been changed irrevocably and yet had no opportunity for revenge. How blinding those first few stultifying months were. Without something to clutch onto, without their hatred for Aizen, they would not have learned how to survive. But Ichigo does not have even that, does not have his powers either, has been stripped of everything he’s known for the last few years.
“I can’t see my future. Not like that, but I can’t see myself in a future. Of any kind.”
Shinji looks askance at Ichigo. My god, things are bad. So this is what Orihime was referring to, what all Ichigo’s friends have been worried about.
“Ya might have missed all this while fightin’ for ya life,” Shinji says, “But the reason ya can’t see yourself in yer future is that it’s not even here yet. Ya gotta live it first.”
“But how?” Ichigo throws a tortured hand over his eyes, practically gritting the words out.
Stubborn fool, Shinji thinks fondly. How difficult must it have been for him to say these words, to admit these things, even to himself. Ichigo has always been the kind to run at a problem headfirst rather than wait it out patiently.
“I dunno. The point is to figure it out for yourself,” Shinji laughs. “Be a high school kid for once. The war’s over. Kiss a girl, or a boy. Fall in love. Get drunk ‘n do somethin’ stupid. Travel, see the world. Find another goal that ain’t just usin’ ya fists as a sword and ya body as a shield.”
“I know,” Ichigo says. “I know, it’s just—”
“No one’s sayin’ ya gotta figure it out now. Or even by yourself. But no sense in shuttin’ out your friends and makin’ em worry while ya brood alone, you know?”
Shinji holds out his can. Reluctantly, Ichigo clinks it.
Almost a month later, there’s a bag of freshly baked pastries and bread waiting for him at Urahara’s shop. A note from Orihime, saying, thank you, and nothing else.
“Oh?” Urahara says. “Encouraging young love?”
“I’m sure ya know more about that than I do,” Shinji says, looking the shopkeeper straight in the eye. Maybe in his absence something has already happened between the two of them. Shinji wishes that someone would let slip something, not because he wants to win their stupid bet but because he’s nosy and just wants to know. But Urahara is as implacable as ever, and although Shinji wants to make a dig about him and Ichigo to see if he’ll rise to the bait, but… refrains.
*
After that, they end up spending a lot more time together. Even though it seems that Urahara’s tests are winding down, Ichigo can’t seem to stay away. Shinji watches him banter with Yoruichi and play chess with Tessai, and kick a ball around with Jinta and Ururu. He and Urahara seem to be stuck in a careful dance around each other, Shinji is amused to note. And then because he’s hanging around all the time, Ichigo inevitably ends up spending time with him, too. They talk about everything and anything under the sun. Shinji’s life over the past hundred years; Ichigo’s interest in Shakespeare, football, the latest music. And if one day, Urahara asks him and the rest of the Vizards to contribute a little of his power in an experiment to help Ichigo regain his powers, Shinji doesn’t mention anything to Ichigo. He doesn’t want to destabilise this new world Ichigo is building for himself.
*
They’re eating ice-cold watermelon in the hottest part of the day and seeing how far they can spit the seeds when Lisa materialises next to them and slams down an impressively large pile of porn mags. “It’s time to settle this once and for all. Pick one,” Lisa says, as if she’s throwing down a gauntlet. She fans the magazines out as both Ichigo and Shinji throw her a look of disgust.
“Really? In front of my watermelon?” Shinji complains.
“Uh…” Ichigo says. “Thanks, Lisa, but I don’t really want to.”
But the smart guy that Ichigo is, he sees Lisa open her mouth to say something and hurriedly cuts her off. “Fine, fine. Here. I pick this one.”
Shinji tries to pretend he isn’t interested. The magazine Ichigo has chosen — at random or did his subconscious guide him to it? — features a woman? or person? on a motorbike. It's hard to tell from underneath all that leather. But it’s the most clothed option out of the many, many nude ones, which also probably says something about Ichigo that Shinji doesn’t really want to contemplate.
Lisa snatches up the magazine and squints at it closely as if she can divine something within the image itself. “Hmm,” she says, sounding disappointed. “Everyone is perfectly entitled to their preferences, of course, but I had imagined that you might prove more interesting than… this.”
Ichigo just shrugs, his face entirely deadpan and straight. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Shinji has to bury his face in his watermelon to avoid bursting out into laughter.
Lisa just tsks, and as quickly as she arrived, disappears once again, the pile of magazines scooped up into her arms.
“What the hell was that all about?” Ichigo grouses. Shinji can finally laugh, and he does so, until tears fall from his eyes.
“The others have got a lil’ bet going on,” Shinji explains. “Who you’re gonna end up with, or rather, what kind of person you’re into.”
Ichigo’s face contorts into a series of stages. Annoyance and irritation, then resignation, then a hint of amusement. “It does explain a lot of things. I was wondering why the fuck everyone is so interested in my love life all of a sudden. Hiyori keeps trying to shove me through gates to Soul Society saying that my soulmate is waiting for me on the other side. Rose also keeps texting me about ‘the inherent beauty of the male body’, which is starting to get a little weird. Hell, Mashiro even gave me this the other day.”
Ichigo pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, on which is Mashiro’s familiar scrawl. She’s drawn two boxes, and above each box are the names Rukia and Orihime. The instructions at the bottom read: Tick for yes and Cross for no.
“I notice ya’ haven’t answered,” Shinji teases.
“There’s nothing to answer. I like, even love, both of them very much, but…”
“Not in the romantic sense?”
“Exactly. Besides, there’s someone else I…” Ichigo trails off.
“Oh?” Shinji says lightly.
“Never mind.”
Ichigo is blushing, really blushing now. It’s kind of adorable, actually, how red his face can get, and how it spreads all the way up to his hairline.
“Well, if ya don’t tell them, you’ll never know what might happen.”
At that, Ichigo abruptly gets up and flees the room, abandoning his half-eaten watermelon rind. Good for him, Shinji thinks. That’s that, I guess. Probably going to devise some kind of plan to confess to his object of affection. I hope he tells me so the others can get off my damn back about who he’s dating. He goes back to his watermelon.
“God,” he hears Yoruichi say. She slinks out from a corner of the room in her cat form, leaping onto the table, clearly having eavesdropped on the entire encounter. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Hirako.”
*
Ichigo’s marching up to Urahara’s shop the next day and Shinji is peering at him again. So it’s finally kicking off. Does he want to overhear Ichigo confessing his undying love to Urahara? Not really, but it would be a funny thing to hold over his head later on. He's going to miss their newfound closeness.
Shinji gets a little closer to the ladder that leads up to the roof, but Ichigo’s footsteps also seem to be getting… closer? Maybe he’s coming to ask for a last bit of advice, or to thump Shinji for giving terrible advice. Whatever his reasons, Ichigo stomps his way up resolutely, taking the steps one at a time.
“What’s the matter?” Shinji asks, sitting up. “Everythin’ good?”
Ichigo’s all red-faced and funny looking again. Grim determination in his eyes. He opens his mouth once, twice, like he’s trying to choke words through his windpipe. He splutters incoherently. Shinji is beginning to be concerned, but then Ichigo reaches down and pulls Shinji to his feet. One more attempt to say something, then he fully gives up and smashes his mouth down onto Shinji’s.
The kiss is heated, but awkward, like Ichigo has no idea what to do with his mouth. Shinji’s tongue ring is in the way, clinking against their teeth as he tries to speak in surprise at first, then gives up and gives in, kissing back as hard as he can, moving his hand up into Ichigo’s hair and pulling a little until Ichigo practically moans into his mouth.
They only pull apart when they hear whoops and cheers from below. It’s Urahara with a fucking camera, and Yoruichi down there too, clapping as loudly as she can. Tessai has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and his hands on his hips. “One more, one more!” Urahara cries. Shinji and Ichigo throw the cheering trio a huge fat middle finger.
“I thought… you were into Urahara,” Shinji says sometime later, in disbelief.
At that, Ichigo throws his head back, and laughs and laughs.
*
“It’s fuckin’ insider trading if you’re messin’ with the terms of the bet and actively datin’ the subject of the bet!” Hiyori insists. “That’s illegal!”
They’re hanging out at the warehouse, and it’s one of the last long summer nights of the year before things start to get cold again. Hachi has set up a nice little bonfire, and is toasting marshmellows.
“I’m happy for you guys,” he’d said sincerely when Shinji broke the news to the others.
There had been a lot of questions, mostly directed at Ichigo. Like about when exactly Ichigo had started liking Shinji in the first place (“I dunno, maybe for a while now. Why does it matter?”). Or if Shinji is just manipulating him for the terms of the bet (“To what end?”). The most insulting being, are you sure?! Shinji, of all people?! You could have anyone in the entirety of Soul Society and probably this town, and you choose him?! (“Hey! I’m not asking you for permission!”).
“I’m still annoyed that you lied to me,” Lisa sniffs at Ichigo, hurt. “When it comes to preferences, friends don’t just lie to each other.”
Mashiro, Kensei, and Love hadn’t taken the news very well. Other than trying to jump Shinji at first for daring to steal the prize of their beloved princess Orihime, they’re deep in conversation on the other side of the circle, discussing who else might be worthy of her. A list is being created.
Rose is trying to make a case that his bet still comes the closest, given that he did say that Ichigo would go for an older man. The others insist that it doesn’t count.
Shinji couldn’t care less about any of it. Fingers casually entwined with Ichigo’s, he just can’t stop smiling. Guess the future just got a little more certain.