I've been in a melancholic mood as of late, and felt like writing something to that nature. But I didn't want to write anything depressing, so I added in a touch of sweetness to this new one-shot that I sincerely hope you like!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters used within this Fic! Nor do I own the rights to the music used in this Fic! They all belong to their respected owners! Please support the official release!

"Why are you always doing this?"

Ichigo opened his eyes slowly, letting the left one remain squinted as a throbbing pain radiated from the tender skin around it. He tasted copper on his tongue, a delicacy he was certainly not fond of. He looked up to see Rukia standing over him, her arms crossed and a hard look in her violet eyes.

"What?"

"Why are you always doing this?" she repeated in exasperation. "Getting into fights with strangers, getting beat up, calling me to come tend to your wounds. Why?"

Ichigo didn't have an answer to that. He ran his tongue over his dry lips, wincing when the cut on his bottom lip became agitated. It wasn't that he liked getting into fights all the time; it just happened. When you had hair as brightly orange as he did people just took an instant disliking to you. He didn't leave his house in the morning on a quest to find a fist to bruise his face – it just found him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, not really knowing what else to say. His head was throbbing, and so were his ribs. He didn't think anything was broken, but he didn't doubt that he'd be sore all over for a few days.

Rukia sighed, a look of concern spreading across her face. "Don't be sorry, fool. I'm just tired of seeing you like this."

Seeing you hurt. The words were only implied, but Ichigo knew that's what she had truly meant.

"Tch," he scoffed softly, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. "If you hate it so much, why do you come when I call?"

Rukia grunted, helping him to his feet when it was clear he couldn't do so on his own so easily. His ribs hurt more than he had expected, and he let loose a loud groan as he steadied on his feet.

"Because I'm a glutton for torture," she finally replied, letting him lean against her as they made their way out of the alleyway. "Besides, I'd be stuck with that idiot Renji if you died out here."

Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Point taken."

"So," she said conversationally, beginning the trek that took them away from downtown towards his home, "what was it about this time?"

He snorted. "Just some assholes," he said tersely. "They started making fun of my hair, so I taught them a lesson."

"From the looks of it they taught you the lesson."

He scowled. "It was five against one. I put up a good fight, considering."

"I don't doubt it." A ghost of a smile spread across Rukia's lips.

They fell back into silence as they walked down the empty streets of Karakura. It was late, so there weren't many people on the roads to witness the short raven haired girl practically carrying the larger orange haired boy. It would be a sight to behold, Ichigo mused.

It took them another ten minutes to reach the Kurosaki Clinic. They entered the house quietly, his father and sisters no doubt already in bed. Rukia helped him up the stairs, into his room, and then onto his bed, blowing out a large breath before saying, "Wait here. I'm going to go get the first aid kit from the bathroom."

He merely nodded as she left him alone in his dark room. He glanced down at his hands, not surprised to see his knuckles red and raw. There seemed to always be a cut, bruise, or scab on his hands – mostly on or around his knuckles. He flexed his fingers, wiggling them to help get feeling back. It felt as if pins and needles were poking at the digits, but he didn't wince from it. He was used to this feeling – the post-fight adrenaline drain. An hour after a fight, as if timed by a higher power, he became hyper aware of his body and the damage it obtained during his state of anger. The throbbing in his knuckles wasn't noticeable before, but now it was all he could concentrate on.

"Here," Rukia's voice nearly startled him. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her return. She pressed a cotton swab dipped in alcohol against his cut lip, and he seethed.

"Dammit!" He pulled back. "That hurts!"

"Quit being such a baby," she scolded, grabbing the back of his head to hold him still as she dabbed at the cut on his lip again. "If you can handle some punks in a fight, then you can handle a damn ball of cotton."

Ichigo grumbled bitterly for a moment before she told him to stop moving his lips. He glared at her, but complied, letting her do her magic.

She didn't say anything as she cleaned his wounds. She wrapped three strips of antiseptic bandages around both of his hands, gave him an ice pack to hold against his bruised left eye, and poked at his ribs gently to test out their tenderness. Once she deduced that nothing was broken in his body, she stood and sighed, her hands on her hips.

"You know the drill," she said, staring down at him. "Just sleep it off and you'll be good."

Ichigo nodded, holding the ice pack against his eye. "Thanks."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't thank me, idiot. Just try to stop getting into these petty squabbles," she said tiredly. "One of these days I won't answer the phone when I see your name pop up."

Ichigo grinned slightly, knowing that she was lying. She would always pick up, and she would always come to his aid. That's why he trusted her more than anyone in the world.

"I'll do my best," he said half-heartedly.

"What were you doing in downtown anyway?" she inquired, raising a brow at him. "After dinner you said you were just going for a walk to get some fresh air."

Ichigo's grin instantly faded, pinkish red tinting his cheeks. "I… um…"

"Don't even try lying to me, Ichigo," she narrowed her eyes at him. "I know when you're lying."

Ichigo scowled at her for a moment, but then let it fall. She was right – he could never lie to her. She saw through it almost instantly. He sometimes wondered if she was hiding an ability to read his mind.

"I was…" he hesitated for a second, then sighed and let it out, "I was trying to buy you a gift."

Rukia's brow shot up in surprise. "A gift? For me?"

He averted his gaze, embarrassed. "I wanted to thank you for always being by my side, so I wanted to go get that keychain you were eyeing the other day-"

"The eggshell white Chappy with pink bow?!" Rukia gasped.

Ichigo went on undisturbed, "-but by the time I arrived at the store they had just closed. I was on my way home when those bastards started calling out to me."

"Ichigo…" Rukia's gaze softened as she whispered his name. "You don't have to get me a gift just for being by your side."

"I know," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I just thought… it'd be a nice gesture."

Rukia didn't say anything to that, just stared at him. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, his blush intensifying under her intense violets.

"Ichigo, look at me."

"No," he said stubbornly. "You're going to make fun of me, and I'm not in the mood to-"

He was cut off as Rukia placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to turn to her. He was shocked to see the tender glow in her eyes. His breathed caught deep in his throat as she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

The kiss was so soft it barely even stung his cut. For someone so violent and pushy, she could be incredibly gentle when she wanted to be. He hesitated out of shock for a moment before kissing her back, ignoring the pinch the cut on his lip gave him in return for doing so.

They sat like that for a few moments, closing their eyes and just enjoying each other's presence. All of the aches and pains of his body seemed to dissipate as he focused solely on the feel of her lips, his hand dropping the ice pack to the floor as, for a single moment, he forgot he looked and felt as much the violent punk people took him for.

Just as quickly as the kiss started it ended. Rukia pulled back slightly, her eyes hooded and bearing deeply into his own. They pressed their foreheads together, smiling in content at one another as they reveled in the peaceful silence of his bedroom.

"You're an idiot," she whispered softly, grinning.

"But I'm your idiot," he whispered back.

She chuckled. "Very true."

No more words were passed between them as Ichigo pulled her with him under the blankets of his bed; their shoes discarded to the floor and the open first aid kit forgotten as they wrapped their arms around each other and lay together in contented quiet.

Inhaling the strawberry scented shampoo in Rukia's silky raven hair, Ichigo let a smile overtake his cut lips, scrunching his bruised eye ever so slightly.

He was willing to endure all the cuts, bruises, scars, and all the pain in the world a hundred times over if it meant, for just one moment, he could have Rukia lie so peacefully in his arms.

Thank you, Rukia… for always being by my side.

I hope you all enjoyed this short one-shot! I wrote it on a whim and feel that it came out really well. I hope you all agree with me!

Also, I purposely didn't put too much background into this because I didn't want to distinct this as canon or an AU. Feel free to interpret it to your liking!

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