Rule #1: The Basics

There are certain things you just don't do around Toushiro Hitsugaya.

For starters, you don't pick your nose . . . but seriously, that's an obvious one. You don't leave dishes in the sink either . . . or your shoes dumped in the living room, as if they had walked there by themselves. No clothes strewn about the room, no dogs (he hates the fur all over the place)—or cats. No frozen dinners (he likes his food fresh), kitchens left messy, or shower curtains left out of place; he also prefers his bagels with the plain cream cheese.

Enter Rukia.

Thank God, she never picked her nose. But every other rule he had ever set to a rhythm in his apartment was figuratively (if not sometimes literally) out the window (and once even on a poor bystander's head).

Her sandals were in the room, her sneakers in the living room (one behind the couch and the other by the coffee table), and her only set of nice heels piled on top of his shoes in the closet by the door. As for her clothes, every morning was the same story. Half an hour of hardcore "outfit searching" and their room looked like an explosion had happened in their closet (mostly hers now, seeing as his stuff only took up one fourth of the actual space).

"Rukia, it goes in the closet." He'd frown at her when she walked in the door (mud on her sneakers) and carelessly throw her rained-on coat onto his (okay, "their") leather couch.

"Rukia, you shouldn't eat so much candy." She'd look at him with wide violet eyes from her corner of the couch, not missing a beat as she deliberately took a large bite from her chocolate bar . . . there were crumbs on the corner of her mouth.

"You only live once," She'd reply, and then grin widely at him, lifting up what little was left to him.

When he'd hesitantly take it and bite it, she'd grab his collar and pull him in for a large sloppy kiss.

It was one of the few rules he liked to break.

Well, that was just one . . . then came something he hadn't figured.

The door slammed open, his neck craning back from his spot on the couch as he tried to see Rukia.

It was rather hot that one sunny July afternoon, so it struck him as odd that she walked in the door (clumsily) in a coat . . . her raincoat.

"Rukia, why are you . . ." She turned to look at him, grinning as innocently as she could, trying to hide the lump that she was praying he wouldn't notice.

"I uh, I thought it might rain on the way home, so uh, I wore the raincoat just in case!" Rather proud of her story, she smiled at him, a little more confident now. Inside her coat, the lump shifted closer to her warmth.

Raising an eyebrow, Toushiro scrutinized her silently, well aware that she hadn't even tried to tackle him in a hug yet-something she loved doing to annoy him.

"Well I'm going to go take a shower, so I'll be right back, ok?" And before he could answer, she dashed off to their bathroom and slammed the door shut.

He was preparing the table for them to eat when he began to hear . . . was that talking? Well, more like cooing?! Walking up to the bathroom door, he didn't hesitate to open it (for God's sake it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other before) and then froze at the sight before him.

Her back was to him (she hadn't heard the door open over the noise of the shower) and she was hunched over, stripped down to just her underwear and bra (chappy bunny of course) and holding something in her arms as she gently tried to wash it.

"What's that?" She shrieked, jumping and nearly slipping in the watery mess she had caused.

"It's uh . . . um, you see," Her hair was plastered to her face, looking rather pathetic as she turned to face him with large violet eyes and revealed the little furball with two large brown eyes . . . and floppy ears.

"He was laying on the side, some kids were kicking him around . . . I . . ." There were tears in her eyes, anger burning deep within as she recalled the incident and how she had slammed one of the boys she had seen down hard enough to knock the wind out of him for a good five minutes.

Silence for a moment and then he sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he yanked out the nearby hanging towel she had prepared. Turning to face her, he gently took the puppy from her and wrapped it in the soft fabric.

"You shouldn't keep him like that. If you don't dry his fur quickly, he could catch a cold. Look, he's very weak. Go into the kitchen and warm up some milk for him."

She stood in shock for a moment, eyes almost as wide as the puppy's before he frowned at her.

"Well?" Shaking her head as if to clear it, she carefully walked past him.

A few minutes later found the two of them sitting on the bed, Rukia feeding the puppy in her arms with Toushiro looking on, not knowing whether to smile at how motherly she looked or be annoyed at the fact that he was somewhat jealous of the puppy.

"His name will be Chappy." She declared proudly.

"And he will go to the pound as soon as he's healthier." Toushiro added, frowning at her. Rukia made a face then, turning to him with large watery violet eyes.

"But-"

"He's leaving as soon as he's better." Getting up, he went to the closet and slipped a bathrobe on her cold shoulders before walking out to the kitchen to warm up their food once again.

Sighing, he finished setting the table and sat down, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He heard the chair across from him slide out and some rustling before he looked up, an obviously peeved (and quite hungry) Rukia shoving salad into her mouth.

"He could have some street disease."

"He's staying." She retorted stubbornly around a mouthful.

"If you get rabies you're brother will kill me."

"He's staying." Not even the bat of an eyelash that time between them. Violet eyes sparked with determination; teal orbs met them on with growing annoyance. A forkful of lettuce slathered angrily in ranch dressing plopped back down onto her plate.

"I won't have fur all over the house!"

"He'll stay in the living room then!" Eyeing her wearily, Toushiro gave another heavy sigh, focusing instead on his food.

"We'll discuss this later." He muttered.

Rukia didn't utter a word then, instead silently celebrating her somewhat victory over her boyfriend.

Round one had been won.

(Rule #1) The Basics: Doggedness is the Key.

(No pun intended.)