Disclaimer: Neither Bleach not its characters belong to me.

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"The existence of forgetting has never been proved: We only know that some things don't come to mind when we want them."
-Friedrich Nietzsche

Karin nearly tripped as she entered the dark room. She fumbled around a bit until she found the light switch, and her bad mood grew worse at the sight of the room.

"Damn, Ichigo, you're a slob," she muttered under her breath as she kicked the piles of soiled clothes that completely covered the floor out of her way. "No wonder Rukia kicked you out."

Her brother had come home three days ago and reclaimed his room--it had been her room since he moved out over four years ago--laden with the suitcases his pregnant wife had packed and left on the doorstep for him. "She's lost her mind," he'd explained.

If I were married to Ichigo, I'd be crazy, too. Poor Rukia.

As much as she pitied her sister-in-law, though, Rukia had known full well what she was getting into, marrying her brother, and whatever "hormonal" issues Rukia was having or "hovering" issues Ichigo was having--they both altruistically pointed the finger in the other's direction, of course--Karin just hoped they'd be resolved soon. She really wanted her room back.

She stumbled to the bed, where she collapsed, exhausted. Her two-and-a-half hour soccer practice had gone over a whole half hour, and every muscle in her body ached terribly. Almost as much as they did after a training session with Yoruichi-sama; not quite, but almost.

She wanted to sleep. She had thought life would be a breeze after finishing high school. Boy, was she wrong. She now had to juggle work, university, playing university soccer, and her secret shinigami training--Ichigo would kill her if he knew. Occasionally, she tried to slip sleep into her schedule, as well.

She sighed and rolled over on her side. Her long black hair, hanging from her ponytail, stuck to the drying sweat on her face and neck, but she didn't think she had the energy to shower. She finally managed to get up, though. Before vacating the room, she heaved the window open, to let the cool night breeze in to air out Ichigo's stench. She didn't care what he said; he could have the futon tonight.

She showered and returned to her room. It felt good to be clean. She opened the closet door and began sorting through her clothing. Her friend Aya was having a party tonight and Karin hadn't been quick enough to think of an excuse not to go. It's not that she didn't like parties, but something about getting wasted and waking plastered to the floor with your own vomit didn't appeal to Karin, and that's the only kind of partying Aya knew how to do. She was just about to settle on either a black mini sweater dress or ditching altogether when the wind picked up suddenly, causing the curtains to flutter wildly behind her. She turned, then did a double take. She could've sworn she saw a shadow hovering just beyond her window, but when she looked again, it was gone. She shook her head and tried to refocus.

The curtains rustled again, and this time she was sure she felt something. She whipped around quickly and tightly grasped the towel that wrapped her body. "Yoruichi-sama?" she called.

There was no answer.

Karin grew angry.

"Yoruichi-sama, if this is a test, I've passed. I can sense your spirit pressure."

There was a flicker in the reiatsu she sensed, but Yoruichi still didn't show herself.

"This isn't funny!" she declared, angrily throwing a shoe out the window, into the night. Yes, it might be disrespectful, but what was Yoruichi doing hanging outside her window on her night off? She was not in the mood for another silly test.

"Ouch," a male voice--definitely not Yoruichi-sama--emitted when shoe made contact with nose.

Karin gasped as whoever was out there released his hold on his reiatsu and let it go, full force. It was so powerful, it nearly choked her. Then, a tall, lean man with snow-white hair flew in through her bedroom window and landed fluidly on the ground. He wore traditional shinigami shihakushou, a captain's haori, and had a Zanpakuto tied at his hip. Karin couldn't find words to speak but she tried to rack her brain: he's familiar looking? How do I know him?

He didn't look at her when he spoke. "Still as petulant and undisciplined as ever, eh Kurosaki?"

Her temper flared. Who the hell was this guy?

He still didn't look at her. He stood, placidly, looking at something resembling a cell phone in his hands. That triggered something, that image, but she still couldn't put her finger on where she knew him.

Suddenly, she realized she was standing in her room, with a stranger, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a towel. She picked up another shoe and hurled it at him. "Get the hell out of my room!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He dodged that shoe but his brilliant turquoise eyes shot up to her, wide with surprise. "You're not Kurosaki Ichigo." But instead of doing as she'd commanded, he tapped the screen of his phone. "Damn. Must be broken."

She screamed again, not exactly knowing what to do.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a look. "Must you do that?" he asked calmly.

"Yes, I 'must.' You're in my room!"

He stopped and looked at her for a minute. Wait...I thought...She shouldn't be able to see me.

"What do you want with Ichigo?" she asked, thinking it was the only question for which she might get a response.

His eyes narrowed slightly. He opened his mouth to respond but her bedroom door burst open.

"Oi! Karin! What're you yelling ab-" Ichigo questioned, but stopped cold when he caught sight of Hitsugaya. "Toshiro? What're you doing here?"

"That's Hitsugaya-taicho to you, Kurosaki," the white haired man growled, crossing his arms.

Ichigo's gaze scanned from Hitsugaya to Karin, back to Hitsugaya, then back to Karin. His eyes widened and his reiatsu shot threw the roof. "What the hell are you doing with my sister?" he roared.

Hitsugaya sighed, exasperated. "Cool it, Kurosaki. I didn't even realize she was your sister."

"And that makes it okay?"

Hitsugaya waved his hand, unconcerned. "I was looking for you. Yamamoto-sotaicho requests your audience...immediately. I'm here to retrieve you."

"You can't just 'retrieve' me. I'm not a dog. You couldn't just send a hell butterfly?" Before Hitsugaya could answer, Ichigo turned to Karin. "Don't just stand there; put some clothes on, will you?"

Karin scowled at her brother. "Maybe I could if you moved this enlightening conversation out of my room," she snapped.

Ichigo sighed and turned to leave the room. He stopped before exiting, though. "Toshiro, get out of my sister's room. I'll meet you at Urahara's."

Hitsugaya grumbled something about "taicho" again as Ichigo left. He didn't leave, however, and looked over at Karin. He stared at her, studying her.

"Hey!" she yelled, making sure the towel was still secure. "Didn't you hear my brother? Get out of here, you perv, before I have him come back in and kick your ass."

He just rolled his eyes. "First I'm an elementary student, now I'm a perv." He shook his head as he climbed out the window. "Humans." And he was gone.

I knew we'd met before.

Karin rushed to the window. "Wait," she called, "how do I know you?"

The only response she got was from the dried leaves, dancing in the wind on her rooftop.

Ichigo entered Urahara's, having left his body back with Kon at his house. Sandal-Hat was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, sipping tea, while Hitsugaya leaned against the back wall, wearing his normal piqued-looking expression.

"Ah, Kurosaki-san. Welcome," exclaimed the ever-dramatic shopkeeper.

"Yeah yeah," Ichigo grumbled. "What's this all about? Why'd they send Boy Wonder here to fetch me?"

Ichigo did not notice the sudden twitch that appeared at Hitsugaya's eye.

Urahara whipped out his fan. "How would I, a mere lowly shopkeeper, know the inner workings of Soul Society?"

Ichigo sighed. "This isn't the best time, okay?"

"I'll just tell sotaicho this was an inconvenient time then, I guess. Sure, he'll understand," Hitsugaya voiced sarcastically.

"What's the matter, Kurosaki-san? Tell Uncle Kisuke your problems!"

Now Ichigo had a twitch. "Rukia's gonna burst any day now and she still hasn't let me back in yet."

"Aw," sighed Urahara, "marital problems. So young. And with a child on the way..." He shook his head, as if saddened.

"Shut up! We're fine, you stupid old man. She was fine at first. It was a totally normal pregnancy. Then she hit 34 weeks and it's like Invasion of the Body Snatchers! She's driving me nuts, demanding wasabi ice cream at all hours of the night, having me paint the room pink, then orange, then yellow, then back to orange, threatening to tell her brother I'm abusing her! It's like a hormone roller coaster, a hormone nightmare! I swear, if she kicks me in the shin one more time-"

"Pink?" questioned Urahara.

"And orange. And yellow."

"Pink?"

"Yes, 'pink,'" Ichigo said through clenched teeth.

"But I thought you were having a boy?"

Ichigo paled significantly.

Hitsugaya snorted. "You couldn't even sense your own kid's spirit pressure, Kurosaki?"

Urahara waved it off. "That's not important right now, Kurosaki-san. You have an audience with sotaicho right now," he said, leading Ichigo to the senkai gate that had appeared in the middle of the room. "I will make sure Rukia-chan does not go into labor without you."

And the gate closed behind the father-to-be.

Hitsugaya shook his head. "What kind of father is he going to be? He can't even deal with his wife."

"Despite the way things look at the moment," Urahara said, now serious, "Kurosaki has grown. His temper is under control, as is his spirit pressure. He's matured; five years ago, he would have taken a swing at me for my, ah, tasteful comments. He'll be a powerful taicho...when he's ready.

"Fatherhood is new to him. Of course he's freaking out: he's not in control, not at this point. And Rukia-chan, as much as I hate to say it, has not been the most pleasant pregnant woman. She has been unable to vacate her gigai while with child, and it has left her pretty cranky. My advice to you, Hitsugaya-taicho: while you're keeping your eye on her, keep your distance."

Hitsugaya sighed. He had agreed to this only as a favor to Kuchiki-taicho, who'd never made a request of him, ever. He had expressed his concern that his sister "would need assistance in her present state while her husband would be otherwise engaged in a top-secret Soul Society commission," his exact words, articulated with as little emotion and feeling as possible.

Now, he was kicking himself. What was he thinking? He hated the world of the living.