Summary: Renji's always there whenever Ichigo faces a crisis.
Reassurance
"Renji."
"Yeah?"
"Rukia says that she loves me."
Renji looks over at Ichigo, who's gazing off into the distance. The orange and red hues colour the horizon as the sun makes its way behind the buildings, hiding to be raised again the next day. Ichigo's hair is more orange than it's supposed to be, his irises a fiery red instead of dark orange, the light outlining that frown on his face that Renji just doesn't like to see.
"Yeah, so what?"
"'So what'?" Ichigo turns to face Renji, scowling. "I don't want to hurt her, Renji. The three of us have been together for so long, do you think I can just brush her off like that? What makes it worse is that she doesn't know about us."
"Then tell her about us," says Renji, resting his chin in a hand as if everything is just that simple. "She'll understand. If not now, then eventually. Don't fret, Ichigo."
"Well, you don't have to worry too much. You're not the one who has to go through all this." Ichigo huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "You and Rukia knew each other since childhood, so I bet you're more siblings than friends, am I right?"
"Sort of." But Renji still remembers those times when he used to have eyes just for her, how he just couldn't tear himself away from the sight of Rukia wading through the river, catching fish for their meals. That infatuation used to be strong, but Renji's grown out of it. On a whim, he wraps his arms around Ichigo's waist and rests his head on Ichigo's shoulder. He's got Ichigo, after all.
"It'll pass, I promise," Renji murmurs, sleep catching up with him fast. "If you do tell her about us, just make sure that you don't hurt her feelings. If I see just a tear from her, I'll come after your ass first, you hear me?"
"Says the man who just doesn't care about anything."
"Shut up."
A moment of silence, and Ichigo hesitantly drapes an arm around Renji's shoulders, leaning down to kiss his temple. "Thanks."
