Okay, so I know that this means I currently have four stories that I am writing, and I have my exams this week, but I couldn't help myself. When the plot bunnies bite, they bite hard, and it wouldn't leave me alone! So I had to write it! I had no choice! Hehe...

And the description of the Kurosaki-lin is not the actual layout, just the way I think it could be set.

Enjoy :P

Glossary
Haha - Mother
Kurosaki-lin - Kurosaki Clinic
Dokuta - Doctor
Ara - Oh
Gomen - Sorry
Yoshii - Alright?
Arigatou - Thank You
Joji - baby girl
Kawaii - cute

Her Sensei's Family

She carried her small child, struggling to hold onto both the toddlers struggling form, and her shopping bags. "Please, Shiro-chan, stop wriggling," Rukia pleaded with her son, the black haired child fighting her hold, kicking the shopping bags with his small, Wellington clad feet. The rain hammered down on them, and Rukia shivered. It fell mercilessly in thick sheets, and Rukia wished she hadn't had to go out in the weather, but it had been urgent. They had run out of food, and she had to feed her son. He was only fourteen months old and he needed the right food to help him grow.

That, and Urahara had insisted she come down to the Shoten/Cafe in order to work her shift. Even though she didn't have a babysitter yet. Bastard...

Rukia grit her teeth, when her son moved again, kicking the bag. Her violet eyes widened when the bag began to slit, and her packets of noodles and vegetables spilled out onto the side walk. Shiro's own grey eyes blinked down at the now loose groceries.

"Kami! Shiro, please, stop moving!" Rukia frustratedly snapped, and the boy sniffed, before his face began to scrunch up. Rukia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as he began to wail loudly, and she set him on his feet as she bent to collect her spilt groceries. Shiro cried loudly, not used to his mother raising her voice at him.

"Shiro... just be quiet... please..." she pleaded, as she knelt on the soaking floor, her knees wet and bare against the asphalt. The rain slipped down the back of her vibrant pink bunny raincoat, drenching the light blue dress she wore underneath. It slipped into her boots, pooling at the toes of the pink, bunny covered Wellingtons. Shiro didn't heed her pleas, continuing to cry loudly, rubbing his small hands into his eyes. Rukia buried her face in her hands, and then took a deep breath, gathering up the spilt, ruined vegetables and noodles, and placing them in the bag that hadn't been torn. Shiro had quietened, while she did this, and she turned to look at him to apologize, only to nearly scream when she noticed he had vanished.

"SHIRO!" she shouted, panic reaching every part of her, gripping her heart. She shot up, looking around horrified, as she saw the yellow blur of his raincoat running away from her, straight into the road.

"Shiro! No! Stay out of the road!" she screeched, racing after him, fear filling her as she saw the approaching lights of a car through the rain. The eighteen year old girl's eyes became like saucers, as she realized that it wasn't slowing down.

The driver couldn't see Shiro.

Shiro had stopped in the road, looking as the bright lights came rapidly towards him. He looked over at his Okaa-san, a big smile on his face. "Car!" he said happily, only to scream when Rukia suddenly dove at him, twisting herself so she got the main brunt of the cars hit. The driver cursed, and swerved, clipping her shoulder with the cars bumper, barely missing hitting her completely. Rukia curled around Shiro, sobbing as she rocked the now petrified toddler, who had started crying again.

"Haha!"

Rukia's right shoulder hurt terribly, she could feel it was dislocated. She was going to have to go to the hospital. She had no choice. If she didn't the damage would be so much worse. She heard the driver of the car getting out, and looked up to see terrified amber eyes, and bright orange hair that was quickly dampening in the rain. He rushed over to them, worry etched onto his features, scowling unattractively.

She looked up at him, agony emanating from her shoulder, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as her vision started to blacken. Oh shit... she thought, just as she dropped back to the road, her head hitting the gravelly surface with a thud.

Ichigo din't know what was going on. One minute, he was driving down the road, desperate to get home, the next there was a kid in the road and a girl jumping in front of his car. He had swerved, but he knew that he had hit her by the sound of metal hitting flesh. He sat in shock for a few seconds, before he felt his limbs start to move and the surprise subside. Jerking open the car door, he ran over to the girl, who was sobbing as she clutched the toddler.

"Hey! Are you alright? Do you need some help? What's your name?" he asked, but she just stared at him, swaying slightly. "Shit!" he cursed, as her eyes started to roll to the back of her head before closing, and she fell back with a nasty crack. The kid she was clinging to wailed again, shaking the older girl, shrieking 'Haha!' loudly. His amber eyes became deeper, as he realised that the girl was the toddlers mother. Who he had just hit with his car. "Hey! Hey, calm down!" he said to the boy , who continued to call for his mother.

Ichigo groaned, and lifted the kid from his mothers unconscious body. "Calm down. I need you to be a good kid, alright?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even. The snivelling child sniffed loudly, snot dripping from his nose as he stared with large grey eyes at Ichigo. However, he was quiet, and that was good enough. Ichigo placed the boy on the pavement, and the went back to the fallen mother. Grimacing, he placed his hand under her neck,and under her knees, lifting her bridal style to the car. Her arm dangled lifelessly, as he gestured to the kid to follow. The boy did, not wanting to leave his haha's side ever again.

When he had safely deposited the teenager in the back of his car, he set about securing the kid in the passenger seat. Then, with a worried glance into the rear-view mirror, he started up the car again and drove away, heading for the place he had been going. The Kurosaki-lin. His Old Man could fix her arm. Although, he was going to get into a lot of shit for hitting her in the first place. The twenty-four year old scowled deeper. That was something to look forward to.

XoXoX

Rukia hissed, when she came to again, her hand flying to her shoulder only to find the arm was back in it's socket. It was still however bound in a sling preventing her from using it. Closing her eyes, she ignored the niggling feeling of frustration and despair that came with her now useless for the time being limb, and swung her legs over the side of the bed she was on.

She looked around, realising that she was in the surgery of the Kurosaki-lin. The walls were white, the floor tiled, and there was a long, white desk along the wall opposite the high bed/examination table she had been passed out on. Bookshelves lined the wall near the door, and a large window allowed the orange light of the streetlights outside to stream in.

The rain continued to poor, hammering down on the glass pane of the window relentlessly. She dropped down to the floor, only to sway slightly and have to grip the table with her free hand in order to stay steady.

"My gorgeous third daughter! So glad to see you are awake!" an energetic voice called to her, and Rukia looked up sharply, her head protesting painfully and her eyes becoming slightly blurry, to see Kurosaki Isshin, her son's Dokuta beaming down at her. Where had he come from? "I apologize greatly for your injury! It hurts my heart to know that it was my idiot son who hurt you! Do not worry! He shall be punished!"

Rukia scowled. His son? What was he talking about? It was some orange-haired idiot that had nearly killed her son and run her over, not the Dokuta's son. Her eyes widened. Shiro!

"Isshin-otousan! Where is Shiro? Is he safe?" she asked, hurriedly, and the dark haired man nodded jubilantly. Rukia, when she had first arrived in Karakura nine months ago had been rather terrified of the man, and his very... exuberant attitude, yet she had warmed up to him more after he helped her deal with Shiro when he had Chicken Pox. And he offered her free health care despite her insistence to pay for it.

"My lovely, adorable little grandson is asleep. I left him in the safe, mothering hands of my darling Yuzu. She looks so grown up with a baby! It's so difficult to see my little girl, all grown up, no longer needing her strong, handsome Oyaji to protect her from the evil monsters in this world!" Isshin declared, and Rukia giggled nervously, sweat dropping.

"Can I see him?" she asked, timidly. The loud man beamed at her. Isshin Kurosaki was quite like no one she had ever met before. He always wore a bright coloured shirt, with large flowers on it, and black trousers, and his white surgical coat. He had a constant stubble along his jawline, and every time she saw him, his hair was spiked up. She often wondered how a man with such a vibrant, easy-going personality had ever become a Doctor, yet she never mentioned it.

She didn't want to offend the only person in Karakura who didn't look at her like she was some sort of scum from the bottom of their shoe.

"Of course you can! But first, you must let me take a look at your injuries! My baka child reset your shoulder, but I never got the chance to see if there was any bruising, my poor Rukia-chan," he pouted, and Rukia swallowed nervously. She really didn't like having check ups.

The smell was always horrible, a sickly sweet pungent odour. It was always white and clean... sterile. Rukia grimaced, twitching slightly as she squashed down those thoughts.

"Ara, it's fine, Isshin-otousan. Can I just see my son?" Rukia asked again, her tone more demanding than pleading. Her eyes hardened with stubbornness, and Isshin had to admire her for putting her want to see her child above her own health.

He gave an melodramatic sigh, placing his hand over his forehead, and Rukia rose her eyebrows. "Very well, Rukia-chan! I suppose I'll just have to let you go! Oh my! The treatment my beloved daughters give me! They are so cruel!" he wailed. Rukia walked past him, limping slightly. She never reacted to his cries, knowing to just ignore him after living there for nine months.

She paused. Wait... Isshin, Karin and Yuzu had been away. When had they come back? They weren't supposed to be home until Saturday. It was only Thursday. Rukia breathed heavily. I hope they didn't cut their holiday short for me... Feeling undoubtedly heavier, and guiltier, she walked up the stairs that connected the Kurosaki-lin, to the home that was built around it. It had taken her a few days to wrap her head around the layout of the home.

The Kurosaki-lin took up most of the L-shaped building on the ground floor, and there was a side entrance that led to stairs which went up to the home on the right side of the building. The stairs from the Lin went to the same corridor as the stairs from the side entrance. On the first floor was the combined living room/kitchen/dining room and the only bathroom in the home. The large square room was split up into two, the kitchen in the corner opposite the door, with the dining table in the corner opposite it, furthest from the door. Near the table was a large poster of Isshin's wife, Masaki.

A settee was on the same wall as door facing the wall that the poster was on, and a reasonably sized television that only got used on Saturday nights for some reason. In the corner was a large bookshelf packed with books on English and Japanese literature, history and medical journals.

Rukia's room, Karin and Yuzu's room and Isshin's room where all squashed together. Yuzu and Karin's room was first on the floor, than Isshin's L-shaped bedroom which no one was allowed in, and down a corridor along the back of the house was her room, which she shared with Shiro. She went to her room first, expecting him to be in his crib, as the clock in the Surgery had said it was nearly midnight. His bedtime was half-eight. She looked for the charcoal-haired boy, needing to see him, make sure he was alright. Panic gripped her slightly, when she found the blue-painted crib empty, it's covers rumpled. He had been his bed, obviously, but now he wasn't.

Someone had taken him.

Rukia nearly screamed, but told herself to get a grip, turning on her heel and running down the corridor, despite her limp. What if he had found her? What if he had Shiro? The questions attacked her mind, as she turned crashed into the living room, her violet eyes large and frantic as she looked around the room. She stalled though, when she saw the orange-haired man pacing the living room, rocking her son. Her free hand was still on the door handle, her jaw dropped slightly as she gaped at the stranger in surprise.

"What... what are you doing? Who are you, and why are you holding my son? Where is Yuzu-chan?" she rambled, looking around the dark room as if Yuzu was hiding in a corner. Like the rest of the house, other than the clinic, the room was dark. The only light was from the television, as the images flickered across the screen, silently. The whole house was quiet, Rukia suddenly realised. Isshin must have retired for the night because she couldn't even hear the low murmur of the Kurosaki-lin's lights.

"I made Yuzu go to bed. She was worried about you, though why I have no idea. You are just some baka who dove in front of my car," the man grumbled, a scowl on his face as he kept his voice low. Shiro sniffed and twisted slightly in his arm. He sucked on his pacifier, his head resting in the crook of the orange haired man's neck. Rukia's mouth snapped shut, and she glared at him darkly.

"You were going to hit my son. What else was I going to do, let you run him over?" Rukia hissed coldly. The man tensed, a flash of guilt in his amber eyes before he looked away from her, swaying Shiro. Rukia began to walk over to him. "Give me my son," she demanded quietly, so she didn't wake the toddler. The man shook his head, and Rukia grit her teeth. "Give me my son now! I don't know you, he doesn't know you. You have no right to hold him. Especially not after you nearly killed him."

"If you had better control over him he wouldn't have been in the road for me to nearly hit," he seethed, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of mother can't control their own kid? Why wasn't he in a pram, or on reigns?" Ichigo questioned her rhetorically, and it took all she had not to slap him. How dare this stranger question her skills as a mother! She would DIE for her son!

"How. Dare. You," she spat. "You don't even know me. You have no right to judge me at all!" she flared, incensed. She took several steps closer to him, her eyes burning with fury. He glowered back. " I want my son back. Now."

"It's pointless. You can't even carry him, your arm is in a sling," he pointed out, and Rukia frowned, looking at her arm, before giving him a dirty look.

"It's only in a sling because you hit me with a CAR!" her voice rose at the end of her sentence, and his eyes widened, when Shiro stirred his face scrunching up slightly. They both stared at the tiny boy, breaths held, until he settled again, hiccuping in his sleep. Rukia gave a relieved huff, before she looked at the stranger again. "You haven't even apologized."

"You didn't give me a chance," he snapped. Rukia blinked, then flushed and looked at her feet, realising that she hadn't actually given him the chance to. She had just started snapping at him without a moment's thought. He sighed, looking at the television over his shoulder. "Ara... Gomen, yoshii? I didn't see your kid, and it was nearly too late to avoid you. I didn't mean to hit you with my car. It was an accident. Gomen."

Rukia visibly deflated, unable to make eye contact with him. She hadn't really expected him to apologize. Not really. It hadn't been his fault entirely, she had upset Shiro, and he had ran off because of it. The only reason she hadn't put him in his pram was because she couldn't find the damned contraption in the house, and she had only realised when she got to Urahara's that it was in the Kurosaki's car, which they had taken with them to Kagomino City.

"Arigatou... er..." she trailed off, biting her lip as she realised she didn't know his name. Despite his previous anger, he chuckled quietly, holding out his right hand and saying 'It's Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo'. He continued to hold Shiro with his left hand, the boy not slipping at all his large hand. Rukia hesitated, before shaking it with her free left hand.

"Koizumi Rukia. And he is Shiro," Rukia smiled at her son tenderly, placing her hand on the sleeping boys back. She rubbed it soothingly, her eyes softening as she stared at her tiny son. "It seems he has taken to you, though," she trailed off. Even if you did nearly hit him with your car... It was a bitter, unfair thought, but it crossed her mind none the less, causing her eyes to darken slightly. "Don't know why. I mean, you are a berry-baka. A carrot-top strawberry."

A vein throbbed in Ichigo's head, and he growled, baring his teeth. Rukia smirked, and reached up, standing on her tip-toes. She flicked his forehead and laughed softly at his strained attempt to hold back a roar of anger. Shiro sniffed and moaned in his slumber, and Ichigo instantly rubbed his back, trying to soothe him before he woke fully. Ichigo reigned his temper in, trying desperately not to blow up and snap at the tiny girl.

When Rukia dropped her arm, she went over to the settee and sat down, reaching for the remote. "Since you are so eager to hold him, do me a favour and put him in his crib? I can't lift him," Rukia waved him off, and the vein reappeared on his forehead.

"Stupid midget," he mumbles, and she suddenly sits up straight, her entire body twisting to look at him. A dark aura surrounded her, and it was as if she had just become possessed by some demon spirit as she growled at him. Her voice hissed at him, a cool 'What. Did. You. Say?', and Ichigo sweatdropped, shaking his head and backing out of the room slowly to take Shiro to Rukia's-

Rukia's room? WHAT THE HELL? It was HIS room!

XoXoX

Ichigo found himself realising quickly, that during his time in America, Rukia had somehow become a very important part of his family's life. This tiny girl, who he didn't know at all, was fully integrated into their lives, as Rukia-nee, his Oyaji's precious 'Rukia-chan'... She had somehow taken over their lives. And he realised this, the next morning when he found himself woken by Isshin.

"GOOD MORNNNNIIINNNNNG ICHIGO!" the eccentric man roared, as his foot near-collided with his son's face. Ichigo managed to sit up fast enough to punch his Oyaji in the face, sending him flying back into the wall with a horrifying crash. There was a horrified gasp, and Ichigo looked at the doorway to see Rukia standing in the doorway, her violet eyes wide as she looked at Isshin. Shiro was on her hip, her left arm holding him against her while her right arm was in it's sling.

The yellow pyjamas she wore, Ichigo was sure he had given to Yuzu as a Christmas present the year before. They were rolled up at the legs, to her knee's and she wore the top undone, with a white tank-top underneath. Her hair was messy, and all around her head, and she still looked tired as she bit her lip. She looekd torn between helping Isshin, and feeding her fussy baby who looked grumpy as he glared down at Ichigo's Oyaji. Ichigo sighed, and stood from the settee he had been forced to sleep on, his blanket slipping onto the floor.

Her head spins to look at him, and her cheeks instantly darken. His chest was completely bare, and he only had on bottoms. She tore her eyes from him, only to yelp in surprise when he lifts the moody baby from her arms. Shiro looks up at him, reached up to grab his hair, and then huffs tiredly, his stomach rumbling.

"Yummy," he mumbled, sucking on his pacifier. Rukia frowned.

"Hey! Where are you going with my son, Berry-baka!" she demanded, her eyes narrowing. Ichigo rolled his eyes, opening a cupboard and rustling about, until he found the jars of baby food.

"I'm giving him food, midget. He's hungry," Ichigo drawled, and the vein in Rukia's forehead throbbed, her eyes twitching as she watched him put her son in his high chair. Ichigo emptied the jar into a bowl that was covered in bunnies, and set it in front of Shiro, with a plastic spoon. As soon as he had stepped away from the high chair, Rukia's left fist slammed into his cheek, her teeth bared and eyes closed. Ichigo fell back, and then growled. "WHAT THE HELL, STUPID MIDGET!"

"Don't call me a midget!" Rukia snarled, stomping her heel down on is foot. Ichigo yelled out in pain, grabbing his foot and hopping up and down. Rukia, however, was rather impressed that he hadn't hit her back, despite her both punching him and standing on his foot. If he had been anyone else, he probably would have. She stuck her tongue out at him, acting her age for once, and then turned her attention to Shiro.

Who had somehow managed to cover his entire body, face and hair in the short time she had been arguing with the older man. He shoved his fngers into his mouth, sucking on them happily. His pacifier had been discarded callously, thrown to the floor without a second thought as he devoured the cream gooey food, a look of utter bliss on his tiny face.

"Shiro-chan... look how messy you are!" Rukia cooed, and Shiro giggled, holding out a mush covered spoon to her. Rukia, despite the fact that the mush looked incredibly unappetising, put her mouth round the spoon and sucked the goo from the vibrant, electric blue spoon. It was sickly sweet, and slid over her tongue like a slug, leaving a taste of apple and banana behind it. Ichigo rose an eyebrow when she literally sparkled.

"Ara! It's so yummy!" Rukia lied, clasping her hands together and beaming at the baby, who clapped and squealed 'Yummy!' in reply. Ichigo nearly laughed, when Shiro held up his fists in offering to his mother, saying ''Yummy' again. Rukia's face dropped momentarily, before she pulled a fake-delighted expression over her features. "It's okay, Shiro-chan! You can eat it all up!"

Shiro pouted, and was away to start crying, when Rukia was suddenly lifted off her feet. "Aiiee! What on earth - Ichigo! Put me down!" Rukia shrieked, when she found her back pulled up against Ichigo's bare chest, him spinning her on her feet. His arm was wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly of the vinyl flooring. Her cheeks turned red, and Shiro cackled in amusement at her, clapping his hands. She gasped, and winced hen her arm jostled painfully, jarring her shoulder. "Ow! Ichigo! Put me down!"

Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows at the tilt in her voice. It sounded hurt, and sore. He slowly set her down on the floor, and she raised a tiny hand to her shoulder, rubbing the bruised skin through her pyjamas. Her face was scrunched, lips pursed, eyebrows practically one and nose scrunched up as she muttered to herself. Guilt flashed within him, yet he pushed it down. He had apologized for hitting her with his car, and he had only been messing with her just then to amuse Shiro and save her from having to eat that gunk.

"MY PRECIOUS RUKIA-CHAN! Are you alright? Did my hideous, brute of a son hurt you, oh my beautiful joji!" Isshin appeared, and Ichigo was actually surprised to see genuine concern behind his mask of childishness. He didn't show it, of course, he expression scowling and furrowed. Rukia sweat dropped, and nodded shakily, stepping away from Isshin as he towered over her, his stubbly cheek nearly in her eyes, his forehead nearly pressed against hers.

"Oh! I am so thankful! Masaki! My love! Our darling Rukia-chan is not in pain! How wonderful this day is once again!"

Isshin had thrown himself at his poster, dramatically sobbing. Rukia rolled her eyes, and rubbed her arm again. She wanted to shush him, to tell him to be quiet so he didn't wake Yuzu or Karin. She tried as hard as possible to make sure Yuzu slept in during the holiday. The girl was always the first up during the week, making breakfast and doing the cleaning, and Rukia really tried hard to help her out, let her get some sleep and go out with her friends, like a normal fifteen year old girl. It didn't help that Yuzu was devoted to Shiro.

Besides, it was pointless, as she could hear movement on the floor above anyway. The floorboards creaked as feet moved around, weighing on the older boards. Shiro blinked his grey eyes and then looked up at Ichigo.

"Bewwy out," he called, holding up his hands to be lifted. Somehow, in the space of less than twenty-four hours, Shiro had begun to call him 'Berry'. It was both irritating, and adorable. The latter something he would never admit to anyone on pride of his reputation.

He was also discovering that Shiro had a rather odd vocabulary. He knew 'yummy' and associated it with anything he liked, 'haha' which he referred to Karin, Yuzu and Rukia as, although he seemed to understand that Rukia was his mother, and had sometimes referred to Karin and Yuzu as 'ba'. He definitely knew 'no' and yelled it the night before when Ichigo had tried to separate him from Rukia as well as 'out', 'toy', 'baka' and called his old man 'ji'.

Ichigo scowled deeper as he looked at the mush covered boy who wanted to be lifted. "Er..." he stalled, looking at Rukia who was struggling to pour herself a bowl of cereal with one hand. Groaning silently, and muttering 'why me?' he lifted the dirty boy from the high chair.

"He's going to need a bath. Take him in the bath with you. I would, it's just Isshin-otousan will want to look at my arm after breakfast," Rukia demanded, leaving no room for argument, sitting at the table with her bowl. The boy literally stick to Ichigo's taut, tanned skin. The mush that had covered Shiro was no also covering his chest and side, as he moved the wriggling boy to his hip and glared at Shiro's Okaasan.

"Oi. He isn't my responsibility. Why should I do it? He's your kid, midget," Ichigo protested, and Rukia's bowl suddenly flew and hit his head, covering his hair and face with milk and cereal.

"I AM NOT A MIDGET! And you have to bath anyway, so why not just take him in with you? He trusts you, and it saves me having to do it," she flipped her hair over her shoulder with her free hand, smirking and Ichigo growled, away to snap back when he felt milk seeping into his bottoms. Grimacing, he locked his jaw, glowering at Rukia who glared back triumphantly.

"Oniichan! What happened to you? Why are you covered in cereal?" Yuzu's voice questioned from the doorway, and Shiro literally lit up when he heard her, shrieking joyfully.

"Haha-ba!" he cheered, waving his hands energetically and bouncing on Ichigo's hip. Yuzu began to coo and fuss, completely forgetting her Oniichan as her attention was captured by the adorable, round-faced little Kouzumi.

"Ara! Shro-chan! You are so messy! Aren't you kawaii!" she cooed and Shiro giggled, clapping. Ichigo grumbled, and brushed past her, muttering he was going in the shower darkly. Rukia called his name, in a sing-song voice, and he glared at her over the shoulder.

"Don't forget to put a new diaper on him when you're done! The bag is in my room," she sang, practically sparkling, and Yuzu gasped, her hands covering her face in delight. Ichigo bit back a retort, as he strode from the room with as much dignity as possible, leaving a giggling Rukia, and amused Isshin and a glowing Yuzu behind him.

XoXoX

The water was warm but not hot, as Ichigo relaxed into it, Shiro sat between his legs, holding onto his knees. He had been resistant at first to getting into the water, preferring to be dirty and sticky, but had calmed down when Ichigo sat in the water as well.

Shiro splashed the clear water playfully, testing it and then grinned widely. Ichigo smirked as the dark haired boy proceeded to splash the water, at him and at the tiled walls. "Yummy!" he cheered, and Ichigo chuckled as Shiro looked up at him, as if looking for his approval. "Bewwy yummy?"

Ichigo ruffled the boys hair, responding 'Hai, Berry is yummy'. Shiro stared up at him, his movements stilled. There was something in his eyes that Ichigo couldn't quite place, yet the two pools of grey were warm and full of life and happiness. Ichigo momentarily thought to Rukia's eyes, which when opened were cold, and harsh, having seen more than there fair share of pain in her obviously short lifetime.

Scowling, Ichigo reached over an picked up a bottle of pink shampoo, pouring a drop into his palm and then messing Shiro's wet hair with is, causing it to bubble and foam in his hair. Shiro giggled, and bat his hands away before splashing in the water again. Ichigo rolled is eyes at the toddlers antics, and grabbed a cup of the side, filling it with water and turning Shiro so his back was to him. Shiro tensed when Ichigo poured the water over his head, covering Shiro's eyes with his other hand as he removed the soapy bubbles.

Rukia could only be eighteen, nineteen at the most. She must still be in school. Probably Karakura High, rather than Seireitie Academy, where Ichigo was going to teach. She was just a child herself, yet she had her own kid to look after.

How had she ended up here? With his family, in his home? Had that much changed in the last four years that his Oyaji just took in random strangers that appeared at his door? Was it really that strange? Old goat-face was crazy... Ichigo scowled again, and looked at Shiro, who had once again returned to his splashing. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts and then lifted Shiro from the water, the boy scrunching up his face and kicking out his legs it Ichigo.

"No! Yummy!" he pouted, and Ichigo gave him a stern look.

"No splashing," Ichigo said, and Shiro sniffed, his lip trembling as he threatened to cry, until Ichigo rose an orange eyebrow at him. Shiro opened his mouth, then clamped it shut with a stubborn pout, kicking out his leg one more time in huff. Ichigo smirked, and set Shiro back in the water, before shampooing and conditioning is own flaming hair. As he ran his hands through it, he realized it was high time he got it cut, it was nearly reaching his shoulders now.

"What do you think, Shiro, should I cut my hair?" he asked, jokingly, and Shiro just cocked his head, blinking, before saying 'Yummy'. Ichigo chuckled, and rinsed off his hair. Pulling the plug with his toes, he lifted Shiro up and clambered out the bath.

He pulled a fluffy white towel off the rack near the bath, and wrapped Shiro in it, covering his head and body until only the young toddlers grey eyes peeked out from the white, his pale skin the near same colour as the towel. Grabbing anther towel and wrapping it around his waist, he lifted Shiro, an arm under his bottom and a hand on his back.

"You're heavy, you know that right?" Ichigo asked rhetorically and Shiro kicked him in the stomach, scowling. Ichigo scowled back, as he left the bathroom. The cold air of the rest of the house caused his skin to erupt in goosebumps, and he shuddered slightly as he walked to Rukia's (it was HIS room, dammit!) room to dress Shiro. He was away to open the door, when he heard Rukia's voice within it.

She sounded pissed off.

"I don't care about that, Megumi-sama! I just want to know if he is okay! What do you mean he's sending Renji?"

Ichigo scowled deeper. If who was okay? What was happening? Who was Renji? There was a brief pause, and when Rukia spoke again, she sounded less angry, and more tired and stressed.

"He's my Niisama, Megumi-sama. I am worried about him."

Her Niisama? Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows. Rukia had a brother. Shiro's uncle. And apparently, there was something wrong with him if Rukia was so worried. Shiro's small fists held onto his towel, gazing up at Ichigo's scowling face as if sensing something wasn't right. "Bewwy?"

"Shush, Shiro, I'm trying to listen," Ichigo frowned, but there was noting else to listen too as e heard footstep coming to the door. He didn't have time to move, as it opened to reveal a flustered and upset looking Rukia, changed out of her pyjamas and into a simple white dress that made her look more innocent than she obviously was.

She looked at Shiro and Ichigo, her violet eyes cold, and her emotions turbulent. Stupid Niisama, stupid Megumi-sama, stupid Renji!

"I was just... er... going to get Shiro dressed..." Ichigo mumbled, and Rukia exhaled heavily, putting her free hand to her temples and rubbing them tiredly. She hadn't even realised that Ichigo was standing in front of her, wearing only a towel, his body slick and wet as a dribble of water ran from his neck, slowly trailing over his chest and down over rock hard abs.

"Hai.. hai... whatever. Just don't touch my stuff, berry baka," she muttered half-heartedly insulting him as she pushed past. Ichigo and Shiro watched as she strode away from them and down the stairs, head bowed as she thought deepl, tuning everything else out.

"Kid, your Okaasan is a whack-job," Ichigo informed the fourteen month old. Shiro furrowed his eyebrows, mouthed something, before lookign back at Ichigo.

"Wak-jo?"