"Rukia?"

She knew that tone.

It was code for 'I fucked up big time and I know you're going to be so mad you'll want to throw me out a ten storey building in three seconds flat'.

But because that was a mouthful to say over and over again, it was easier just to use that tone.

Sighing and tossing her raven hair over her shoulder, Rukia Kuchiki straightened up her back and slid gracefully off her mattress. As expected, she heard a tentative knock on her bedroom door accompanied by a second calling of her name. At a hurried attempt of grabbing her Chappy printed nightgown to make herself decent, she almost tripped over a stray pillow sitting on her lilac carpeted floor.

Almost.

Rukia was the type of girl you might describe as being an 'almost' girl.

Everything with her was almost.

Everything.

That was sometimes good. But it was sometimes bad.

"Yes, Byakuya?" She answered, expectantly, "Is there something you need?"

A short, brief silence followed before the said man cleared his throat, "Can I... come in?"

With her hand already on the handle, Rukia pushed it down and opened the door to reveal her older brother still dressed in his sleek, black work suit.

Her brother definitely wasn't an 'almost' type of guy.

In fact... nobody would dare refer to Byakuya as any type of guy.

Why?

He was a respectable man with a respectable job and a respectable title.

Byakuya Kuchiki was a respectable type of man.

Folding his hands primly behind his back, he looked up beneath his long, black hair, and spoke with a tone as cold as his steel, grey eyes, "Due to unforeseen circumstances, I have had to make a contract with another company – an informal contract. One that... doesn't involve signatures or papers but I still need to vocally sign it, if you will."

Waiting expectantly, Rukia kept her deep violet eyes on her brother, attempting to mirror the same indifference his proclaimed.

"I'll explain the depth of this contract later. But, the main difficulty is that we have to move out. We need to change cities and make a fresh start again. It is a burden I do not wish for you to carry, Rukia, but I'm afraid it is out of my hands. I'll explain everything later, but I thought you might need to know now so you can be packed up by tomorrow morning."

Rukia almost flinched.

Almost.

Instead, she remained passive and nodded her head once, "Yes, Byakuya. I understand. I'll be ready to leave by the morning."

Although it took a great deal to pierce her brother's emotionless façade, Rukia swore she saw a hint of regret flicker behind his stony eyes.

"Thank you, Rukia. I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly." He sounded as apologetic as a man who expressed little emotion could.

She didn't respond, but placed her hand back on the door handle – a subtle cue for her brother to leave.

Picking up instantly on her inconspicuous hint, he bowed his head, and swept from the room, his hands still clasped firmly behind his back.

She hadalmost gotten used to the idea of staying in one place after the fifteen times they had moved in the past five years.

She had almost gotten settled into the new city.

She had almost been happy.

Almost.

"Mr Kurosaki?"

He knew that tone.

It was code for 'I know I really, really shouldn't be disturbing you unless I want to lose my job, but...'

He didn't react.

He just continued doing exactly what he was doing before the irritating interruption arose.

…Which was, of course, spinning his pen skilfully around his fingertips.

An impeccably taxing duty, obviously not to be disturbed by anybody.

Especially the disturber in question.

"Mr Kurosaki?"

His low grunt was a sign that the interrupter was permitted access to his office, but he was not overly-enthusiastic about the prospect at all.

It had better be worth his time.

As the door opened, a tall, busty ginger haired girl with soft grey eyes entered into the room, clutching a pile of papers in her left arm.

"I know you hate to be disturbed when you're working, Sir, but Nanao said she received an application form that she wanted me to look over. So, I did. Usually she doesn't pass them onto me unless she believes them to be important–"

Mr Kurosaki interjected with a grunt which clearly meant 'shut the hell up and just give me the damn file'.

His personal assistant paused at the sound, however when her beloved boss did nothing else – but spin his pen – she continued, much to his silent disapproval.

"–Anyway, I looked over it and I thought you might be interested in reading it. There are five outstanding references enclosed and–"

"–The file, Orihime."

At the sound of his soft – yet rich – baritone, Orihime faltered over her words and held out the application form to her boss, "Of course, Sir. When you've looked over it, please let me know – if it isn't too much trouble for you – so I can tell Nanao to get in touch with her."

Mr Kurosaki's little finger twitched, and Orihime had seen it enough times to know that meant 'you may leave'.

Although, to Mr Kurosaki, it meant 'get the fuck out'.

Doubling over forwards several times over so her lengthy ginger hair ecstatically fell about her flushing face, Orihime swept from the room.

Why did she always have to bow?

He sat for a moment, his eyes agitatedly staring through his mop of unruly hair at the applicant's file on his desk.

He supposed he'd better read it soon enough.

Finally, he ceased spinning his pen and placed it quietly down on the table.

Reaching over, he gathered up the papers and began to lazily flick through them.

His personal assistant was, for once, right about one thing.

He was interested in this applicant.

He was very interested, indeed.

"Mr Kurosaki?"

It had been only one hour since he'd last seen her face.

One hour.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

He responded this time with a louder grunt, expressing a little annoyance.

Why couldn't his personal assistant leave him alone? She was always asking if he wanted this, or if he wanted that. But what he really wanted was her to just get on with her job and stop bothering him. If he needed her, he would say.

Or grunt.

Dropping the papers back down onto the desk, he picked up his pen to continue spinning it.

Yes, he had read the file for a whole hour and would still be reading it, if there hadn't been interruptions...

The door opened a crack, just enough for Orihime to poke her head into his office, "Is there anything you need?"

Ichigo sighed. There were several things he needed. One... for the irritatingly happy personal assistant to leave him the hell alone. Why was she always so happy to work for him? It was common knowledge that Mr Kurosaki was no picnic. Okay... he was a total asshole. So it was a mystery to him why Orihime doted on his every need. Sure, it was nice enough, but it was as galling as hell. He tried so hard to make her dislike him. Most of his other employees did, so why not her?

"Arrange an interview." He ordered her, his almost inaudible voice low.

Smiling warmly, his personal assistant edged her way into the room. It was a memorable milestone that her boss actually spoke three words to her all in the same sentence – but even more so that this was the second full sentence he'd spoken that day. He must have been in a good mood today!

"Excellent! When are you free?" Her voice was laid thick with excitement and joy that it took all he had not to stick his fingers in his ears and boot her out the room.

But, of course, that would take unnecessary time and effort.

Flicking through his phone, he still kept his eyes concealed behind his spiky fringe before shrugging, "Tomorrow. Four."

"Thank you, Sir. Can I get you a coffee?"

He graced her with a curt nod. That was enough words for her today.

Oh, and she had better bring him a bagel with that...

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Byakuya Kuchiki avoided looking directly into his sister's eyes as he muttered, "Rukia, you have no idea the importance of this visit. These people are very valuable to us. Just remember to be yourself." He told her, as earnestly as he could.

Nodding her head, Rukia glanced away. She knew could never be herself. For one, she didn't know how and for two, she doubted anybody would like the real her, anyway.

But she'd act how her brother wanted her to.

It had never failed anybody up to now.

That is... everybody besides herself.

They were standing before a huge, peculiar house. Rukia had never seen anything like it.

It was an odd sort of shape, with completely mismatching coloured bricks, an obscurely large chimney and an oval shaped door.

She had thought they were rich and noble – at least, where companies were concerned. Surely that should mean they could purchase a house that didn't offend the rest of society.

Byakuya extended his arm and knocked politely on the rounded door.

It didn't take long before the door opened and a pair of huge boobs answered.

Oh, wait... there was a head around there, somewhere.

Her jagged black hair was partially concealed by some form of bandana that reminded Rukia of a bandage. She looked as if she was wearing some kind of... red leotard. Maybe she was a gymnast. Though it would have been a surprise if she could jump upwards without her boobs weighing her down…

But, either way, it didn't really matter what she was wearing, because to be honest, it wasn't much. There was more skin than fabric on show and Rukia wondered what on Earth Byakuya was doing, bringing her to a place that may as well have been a brothel.

Then again, she noticed Byakuya looked just as mildly shocked as she did.

Maybe they'd got the wrong address.

With any luck.

"Kaien! Door!" The woman yelled raucously up the stairs.

Rukia chanced a sideways at her brother who had awkwardly averted his eyes from the scantily clad woman and jutted his chin out to the side, waiting for the uncomfortable scene to pass.

"Alright, be down in a minute, sis!"

That was his sister...?!

She motioned for the two siblings to enter into her home and she wandered away, pulling out a curious looking cigar.

Surely he was slightly uncomfortable at the idea of his sister wearing such clothing in the same house as him.

Or at all.

If she wore something like that, then she could bet her bottom dollar that Byakuya would disown her.

But, she wasn't one to judge. In fact, she was already beginning to feel a little bad. They were probably a lovely family and there she was prejudging them all.

A thud followed by the painful sound of skin against skin echoed through the countless rooms in the house before the masculine voice yelped, "Ouch! Sis, no need to slap me so hard!"

"You have guests, idiot! Wipe that gormless expression off your pathetic face! Where the hell is my other idiot brother? He'd better not be out. He hasn't even done the dishes, yet!"

Or, maybe not…

The voice belonging to who Rukia expected to be Kaien winced, "That's probably why he's out then, isn't it?"

"Oh, shut up and go see to your guests, moron."

Both Kuchikis stood awkwardly as a tall man with a black spiky mullet of hair mooched around the corner, scratching the back of his head, "Glad you could make it, man." He halted his attentions on Byakuya, and turned them instantly to Rukia, "Who is this rare and delicate angel?"

Rukia almost blushed at the way his startling green eyes landed appreciatively on her.

Almost.

From what Rukia gathered from her brother's brief explanation on their journey to the Shiba home, was that Kaien was a rather wealthy businessman, in charge of a successful writing… or publishing company. He'd been a little vague on the details.

Byakuya rested a hand lightly on his sister's shoulder, even though Rukia could feel the quiet assertion in his fingertips, "This is my sister, Miss Rukia Kuchiki."

"Miss Kuchiki, hm? Quite a snappy name, right? But you know what I think would sound better?" He leaned down and winked at her, "Mrs Rukia Shiba."

Feeling the tension Byakuya's grip on her shoulder, Rukia managed a tight smile, "Charming."

Byakuya had told her to be polite and accept him for the way he was – but she had no idea he would be this... overwhelming.

"So, come in and sit down. You'll have to excuse my sister... she's a bit of a grouch–"

"–I heard that, spike head!" The loud voice of Kaien's sister called down from the upper regions of the house, but Kaien just smirked.

"Ignore her. Anyway... so let's get down to business, shall we? So, Mr K, I heard over the phone what kind of thing you're hoping for. I was thinking instead of working for me, you should work with me. You know... have a partnership, or something. How does that sound?" The tall man ushered both Kuchikis into his large living room and rather than inviting them to sit, he just shoved them both down onto his sofa.

"Well... it does sound like it would be a good deal... for me. What's the condition?" He asked, his suspicion growing more by the second – not that he would show it.

Kaien shrugged, his emerald eyes landing back on Rukia, "No condition... except that I need to get to know you both a little better. I can only afford to have one of you being a part of my company. But we're hoping to take over a couple of companies. Maybe you could work for one of them, Mrs Shiba? That way we all win, understand?"

Byakuya stiffened once again but Rukia raised her eyebrows, "I beg your pardon? You want me to… to spy for you?" Even as she spoke it, the words sounded utterly ridiculous.

He laughed, "I wouldn't call it spying... but I would call it, a very good position for you to be in. You should send out a couple of applications to a few different companies. I'm more likely to overthrow a company if I have someone working for them. I might even pay you extra if you... would kindly meet up with me this Friday night?"

Byakuya was shaking his head before Kaien had finished his question, but Rukia sensed this would be a good opportunity for her and her brother to get into his good books. After all, he was very rich and seemed generous enough.

One date couldn't hurt.

"It's fine. Yes, I'd be honoured to meet up with you this Friday."

She could feel Byakuya's questioning eyes on her, but she couldn't look at him in that moment, or she'd back out. Screaming.

Her brother had done so much for her, the least she could do was accept a date from the man wanting to fix their lives back up again. It was just one outing, right?

Right.

Flashing a large toothy grin, Kaien handed over a card to her and allowed his fingers to brush hers. The spark she thought she might have felt seemed to forget to strike and instead, she felt a little uneasy at his forwardness.

That may have been because she wasn't used to this kind of open attention from males.

At least, not a male comfortable enough to act this way in front of her brother.

Not that she minded the change, but it would take some getting used to.

"So, there's my number, darling. You just give me a call about Friday and we'll arrange it then. And you, my brother-in-law, you will come see me tomorrow and we'll talk more business. How does that sound?"

He nodded, his lips pursed, "Of course."

"Excellent." There was that toothy grin again, "Guess I'll be seeing you both soon enough!"

He stood up and both siblings followed suit, smiles frozen onto their lips.

Rukia just hoped she'd make it through the week...

...alive.

"Oh, it really is lovely to meet you, Miss Kuchiki!"

A sickly sweet female's voice greeted Rukia not a second after she'd stepped out of the lift.

She had always liked to be in high places and being on the top floor of a twenty storey building suited her quite nicely. But she wasn't too keen on the sound of the voice that was floating around.

The woman belonging to the sickly sweet voice beamed happily at the new arrival and thrust her hand towards her.

Refraining from raising her eyebrows, Rukia forced a good-natured smile and received her outstretched hand.

Giving it a firm shake, she rather hoped that this woman wouldn't always speak with that pitch or volume every time she opened her mouth. The thought made her ears itch and her stomach roll...

Although, admittedly the woman was very beautiful.

That must have been something about this town.

So far, every woman she had come across in Karakura seemed to have boobs the size of boulders.

She felt a little out of place...

"My name is Miss Inoue. I am the boss' personal assistant." She told her, retracting her evidently moisturised hand and clasping it with her other just beneath her sizeable breasts.

Oh, did she have to rub it in…?

Rukia almost snorted at the way she poked her small nose a little proudly up in the air and continued, "I should tell you a few things about the boss before you meet him... Mr Kurosaki is different to all other bosses you may be familiar with. Don't let him get you tense or frustrated. He doesn't like anger. Speak only when spoken to... and one more thing... don't ask him personal questions. He's a very private person." She spoke as if she knew the guy inside out. Maybe she did... But if he was a very private person, surely he wouldn't tell her everything about himself, would he? Unless... he trusted her. But judging by the snooty way Miss Inoue had told her about his expectations, she figured his personal assistant wasn't more informed than she hoped to be.

Already, Mr Kurosaki seemed like some sort of mystery man.

Maybe he was old with a lot of stories to tell and secrets to keep. Usually bosses were experienced, middle-aged and arrogant asses.

By the sounds of things, he was definitely an ass, but clearly Miss Inoue held him in high regards.

Maybe she liked asses... as weird as that sounded in her head.

As she led her into a room full of office workers, she tried to keep her eyes focused on the back of Miss Inoue. But it was difficult considering the stares she could feel were on her from around the room. The sound of typing at computers and scratching of pens on paper had stopped and an unbearable silence ensued.

Managing to keep her posture straight and upright, Rukia followed the personal assistant to a door with the name, Mr I. Kurosaki printed on the tinted window. It was impossible to see inside the office which just highlighted this man's mystery.

"I'll just check to make sure he's ready for you." Straightening out her blouse, Miss Inoue knocked on the door, pressing her ear to the wood, "Mr Kurosaki?"

Rukia couldn't hear a word of reply, but the personal assistant waited for a moment until she received some kind of signal – whatever that might have been – before opening the door, "Sir, Miss Kuchiki is here."

She waited for a moment until receiving yet another unknown signal before she pushed the door open and indicated for Rukia to enter.

If there was one thing she would be, it was not herself.

She told herself to be the person Byakuya thought she was: reserved, dignified, calm, and in control.

And under no circumstances whatsoever should she lose her temper.

Taking a deep breath and steadying herself, she strode confidently into the room, a smile plastered to her lips. She could not see beyond Inoue, who was currently speaking, in reverent tones, "Excuse me, Sir, would you like me to get another chair?"

When Rukia didn't hear a reply, she wondered exactly how this man communicated with others.

"Right... okay. I understand. You just want it to be the two of you. Okay, I hope everything goes well."

How did she come to that conclusion? Telepathy? Turning on her heels, the ginger woman bowed her head, "Good luck, Miss Kuchiki. It was wonderful to meet you."

"You too." Rukia nodded, stepping aside in order to let the woman pass her and close the door behind her sorry self.

As she averted her eyes to the desk, she felt herself caught a little off guard.

Inoue was right. This man wasn't like other bosses.

The first thing that struck her attention was his nearly neon looking hair.

It looked like someone had grated a carrot on his head...

It was slightly like Kaien's. Spiky, unruly, but a little shorter and appealingly messy.

Rukia noticed that his hair was so messy that it had fringed his eyes, and wondered how on Earth he could see anything – besides orange.

He was different. Unique.

Moving her eyes down, she took in the smooth slope of his nose, his defined cheekbones and a tightly carved jaw.

He was easy on the eye thus far.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she retracted it. Her eyes landed on his lips.

They were contorted into a dark scowl.

His – very muscular (not that she noticed) – body seemed to have adopted a relaxed pose; slouched, easy and calm.

He was spinning a pen around between his fingers and hadn't even bothered to ask her to sit down, just yet.

Just what kind of boss was he?

"Mr Kurosaki, it's a pleasure to meet you." She hoped he would take the hint and begin the interview like most bosses would have done at this point – or even if they hadn't began it yet, they would have at least spoken, right?

It had taken him mere seconds to assess her.

He wasn't going to admit to being disappointed just yet.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to assess the appearance of the new presence in the room and the way she feigned politeness in her tone as if trying to speak like an innocent high school girl.

Of course she didn't think it was a pleasure to meet him. If she did, she wouldn't have fixed that pretentious smile in place on her... full, pink lips.

Well, she was having a good look at him and whether she knew it or not, he decided it was only fair to return the favour.

Besides... although he kept his eyes hidden, he was well aware she was looking curiously at his fringe, most likely wondering why he wasn't making eye contact.

No matter, she'd get used to it.

The way she strode into the room was also an act. He could tell her confidence was just all part of her fake demeanour.

But what caught his attention was not how short and petite she was or how she was different to every other woman in his office, but to how she pulled off looking sexy without parading her body around as if she was a swan. The eloquence seemed to radiate from every fibre in her body. He had to admit, he was drawn in by the way her glossy black hair framed her petite face and the stray bang strewing down the centre amused him. Her pale skin held no blemishes at all and although her build was different to what he was used to seeing on Orihime and a select few of his other workers, he found it refreshing. He often felt like he was talking to his personal assistant's boobs by the way they were the first things to enter his room each morning, practically grinning right at him. However, Miss Kuchiki's build was... delicate. She had gentle curves – not like porn star size, but not like a boy, either. She was... just right. Of course, not for him, but for whomever her current boyfriend was. He was a lucky guy – providing she dropped the façade she was using when she was with him and decided to actually smile – genuinely smile – not just pull her lips up so high her cheeks appeared to be hurting.

In every mask, there had to be a place where the actor or actress could see through, whether it was eye-holes or a gap in the mouth. It didn't matter. But that was the problem with masks. The eye-holes were flaws. Although it meant the person wearing the mask could see everyone else, it also meant that everyone else could see through the mask.

Similarly, the only flaw in Miss Kuchiki's mask was her eyes. Although they appeared bright and excited – Mr Kurosaki wasn't entirely convinced.

Maybe he would turn out to be completely wrong.

But maybe he wouldn't.

He wasn't certain as of that moment exactly why he was so intrigued by the way she carried herself. All he knew was that getting her true personality to shine through would be a fun game to play.

One thing he looked for in an employee was character.

He never hired a boring applicant.

There was no point in training a writer who had no wit, no stories, or no charisma. Nothing.

Who wanted to read something from a person with no character?

He didn't take the hand she had offered him, but indicated for her to take a seat in front of his desk. Why did she offer him her hand? He could tell that the last thing she wanted to do was shake his.

He watched as she perched herself on the edge of the seat, her eyes sweeping over him once more.

It had appeared she was mistaken when she initially believed him to be relaxed. She could see it now. The tension in his tight jaw, the way he'd attempted to come across as being tranquil actually looked as though he had been sitting in one position for too long and had become rigid from cramp. However, he didn't change the way he was sitting, but just continued to spin that ridiculous pen.

The way he kept silent irritated her a little.

Was he a mute?

Or was he just downright rude?

Miss Inoue had warned her in advance, but she could have given her a heads up about the whole silence thing.

"What's with the mask?" His sudden expel of words took her by surprise, but yet she remained still.

"I... beg your pardon, Sir?" She asked, the confusion in her tone evident.

"Your mask. What's with it?" Well, unless he was addressing the dying plant on the windowsill, he was definitely talking to her.

This wasn't at all the way she had expected an interview to begin.

"I'm not wearing a mask, Sir."

His jaw flexed – and as bemused as she was by his sudden outburst, she couldn't help but notice how the way he spoke seemed forced. She believed it would be easier for him to speak smoothly and kindly, yet there was an unmistakable hard edge to his tone and that was what caused her expression to harden.

"Take it off." He instructed, still not looking up beneath that mad, orange waterfall.

"Excuse me?"

"The mask. Take it off." He repeated, his voice demanding.

She didn't appreciate being spoken to in this manner in a professional environment.

She was certain that it was not orthodox to enter an interview only to be instructed to remove a mask she didn't even realise existed.

Thus, her smile dropped at his persistent rudeness.

"That's better." The ghost of a smirk was haunting his lips and his scowl had relaxed ever so slightly, but before she could reply, he continued, "So… previous employment… what were the people like?"

Closing her agape mouth, she resumed her previous expression and spoke with an air of great civility, "Reserved, polite, and pleasant."

Rukia rather hoped he would pick up on the underlying tones of significance; it was quite clear she had listed the qualities he lacked.

"Did you enjoy working with them?" He asked, not commenting on her reply.

This time, Rukia was determined to remain impassive.

She took it upon herself to withhold any warmth from her tones, "Very much so."

"You were sad to go?"

It took her a moment to answer before she blinked, "Almost."

"Almost." He spoke the word as if it was a new taste to his tongue – unsure whether it was bitter... or sweet.

"Yes." She clarified, crossing one leg over the other, elegantly.

"Miss Rukia Kuchiki..."

Her eyes fell to his lips, watching the way he seemed to taste the texture of the syllables on his tongue. It was this minor action that dug her in the ribs, just briefly.

"...As I'm sure you're aware, this is a very different environment to the ones you're used to."

No, you're just different, she thought to herself.

"...However, this does not mean we do not take our jobs very seriously. I, personally, do things my own way here."

"I can see that." She remarked, icily.

"Well, clearly since you are so observant, you may or may not be aware that there are constantly other companies threatening to overthrow us and take over..." He quipped, that smirk threatening to show once more.

Surely he doesn't know that much about me? If only I could see his entire expression... I'd know for certain what he was thinking.

"...We need what's best for the company right now. Do you think you're what's best for the company?" He stopped fiddling with his pen, awaiting her answer.

Pausing for a moment, she sighed before nodding, "Yes."

"You do? Judging by the way you've acted in this meeting, I am in a good mind to reject your opinion."

He knew she would say yes. She could tell by the way his retort was already waiting behind his teeth.

"If I may, Mr Kurosaki–"

"–Sir." He corrected, proceeding to turn the pen about his fingertips once more.

Exhaling, Rukia knows it wouldn't be long before she hated her boss – and yes, she would have been willing to sign it as an official statement, "If I may, Sir, it wasn't my entire fault. It would unfair to point the finger at me, when I think you know as well as I do... I was a little provoked."

Mr I. Kurosaki let a breath pass through his shapely – Rukia! Mr I. Kurosaki let a breath pass through his... lips, and it almost sounded as though it could have been the shell of a laugh.

Almost.

Perhaps he was an 'almost' type of guy, too.

But he was working for a major company, and manager over an entire sect.

That disproved that theory, then.

"The thing is, Miss Kuchiki, I am not like other bosses, because I act different. I am harsh like them, I am mean like them, and I am as rude as them. But they usually do it behind your back so they don't run the risk of getting sued. I, on one hand, do not care who tries to sue me, because I will personally kick their ass in return. Besides... what fun is it if I don't get my employees riled up every once in a while. I need to know you can stomach it. If you really want this job, Kuchiki, do you think you can find it within your wonderfully kind heart to put up with my shit and keep on top of the vast workload I'm very likely to give you?"

He was definitely not like other bosses...

She bowed her head, a little reluctantly, but she knew she had to take this job for her brother's sake. Kaien seemed like an openly decent guy, but Rukia knew he also seemed like the type of guy who got everything he wanted. She hated people like that, but when her brother was involved, she had no choice but to give Mr Shiba what he wanted.

"Of course, Sir."

"Excellent." Slamming down a piece of paper onto the desk, he pushed it towards her, placing a different pen to the one he was spinning on top of it, "Sign it. Start tomorrow. Eight. We'll deal with your routine then."

Rukia briefly scanned the contract before placing her signature on the bottom line before she asked, "What's the date?"

"This Saturday night? If you're not busy?" Came the smug reply, "Just kidding. No need to look at me like that, Miss Kuchiki... It's the second, today. Man, you ought to lighten up."

She relaxed the grip on the pen before she finished scratching in the date. What was him all of a sudden?

"I am not a man." She muttered, annoyance written plainly on her features.

"Good job. I don't ask guys on dates."

Rukia wondered vaguely who he actually did ask on a date. She assumed he would be the type to back somebody in a corner and tell them they're going to go out. Asking permission was out of the question with this guy. If he wanted something, it appeared he would stop at no lengths to get it.

Sometimes that was a good thing... other times it wasn't.

Handing the contract back over to him, she stood up, picking up her bag from beside her chair and placed – with much force – a smile back on her face, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Don't say things you don't mean, Kuchiki. Don't smile either. You hate me."

Well, at least he knew.

"I thought it courteous to do so." She told him, honestly, but pulled the corners of her lips back down once more.

"Don't be courteous with me. It doesn't become you at all." He told her, seriously, "I prefer it when you look like you want to tear my head off with your bare hands. Anyway... see you tomorrow, Miss Rukia Kuchiki."

Okay, she was ninety eight percent sure he said her name in that sinful manner on purpose…

He was probably trying to get her to react.

And she did. Not almost. She did.

Colour tainted her cheeks as she turned from the confined room, "See you tomorrow."

"I look forwards to it."

Yes, Mr I. Kurosaki, I'm sure you do.

On her way out of the office, Rukia nearly walked into Orihime who had clearly been pressing her ear to the door, waiting for the opportune moment to burst in and see to her beloved boss' needs.

"Whoops, sorry, Miss Kuchiki." She took a step back and bowed her head, with deep respect.

What an odd woman.

"Oh, don't worry about it; I should have watched where I was going." She continued on her way from the office before the personal assistant caught up with her.

"Hey, wait, Miss Kuchiki."

"Please... call me Rukia."

Miss Inoue smiled, warmly, "I take it you got the job, then."

Like you weren't listening...

"Yes, I did." Rukia returned the smile, a little stiffly, as Miss Inoue swung into step beside her.

"So... what do you think to him?" The forced interest in her voice made Rukia wonder just what her deal was.

She was one possessive assistant...

"To who?" She asked, vaguely.

"You know. To Mr Kurosaki."

"Oh, he's an ass."

Sounding slightly relieved, but a little defensive at the same time, Miss Inoue responded, "He'll grow on you."

"I would hope not."

"Well, you certainly seemed to get him out of his shell today. Usually he's like a closed up clam." She informed her, attempting a cheerful laugh, subconsciously smoothing down her ginger hair.

Yep, she'd definitely been listening.

"Is that so? Well, I think I'd prefer him to keep closed up, if that's the case."

As they approached the lift, his personal assistant giggled, "You're so funny. I'll be glad to see you around here more often."

Stepping into the lift, Rukia managed a polite smile and she waved, a little awkwardly, "Yeah... Bye, Miss Inoue."

"Oh, please. Just call me Orihime."

"Right, sure. See you tomorrow, Orihime." And then the doors closed, leaving Rukia feeling utterly dazed.

What was that woman's deal? She was very... Mr Kurosaki orientated.

She couldn't see why either. He was a complete mystery. Everything about him was so... rude and annoying.

But, maybe Orihime saw something in him that others didn't.

Maybe beneath that man of mystery was a boy with hopes and dreams.

Maybe she wasn't the only one putting up a front.

Maybe he wore a mask too.

A/N: Please review, and let me know what you think to the terse beginnings of our favourite couple's journey…