Rogue12158

What do you mean, "It's not a bugler?"

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Ichigo's Point of View

The holidays.

Most people say that it's the happiest time of the year, but for me, hell. Pure and utter hell.

During these painful times, my father is always, always, more of a pain in the ass than he normally is. But that is usually something that I can handle.

What made this especially hellish was the fact that Rukia and Kon went along with it so enthusiastically that I wanted to bang my head against a wall repeatedly.

Kon had taken to wearing a Santa hat and dancing like an elf all day, everyday. But Kon wasn't the more annoying out of the two.

Rukia, now she made me want to jump out into the middle of oncoming traffic.

One day at school, after learning of Christmas, Rukia went to the computer lab and looked up every and all Christmas-related song on the web. She then memorized them all, and either hummed or sang them all the time. And I mean all the time. Even when fighting hollows.

FIGHTING HOLLOWS!!

It made being a soul reaper that much more of a pain in the ass.

But, there was one thing that made this time of year bearable: the absolute silence on Christmas Eve.

Dad made Karin and Yuzu go to sleep really early, the only given explanation from him was something about preserving their childhoods.

And since Rukia and Kon were so immersed in Christmas spirit, decided to go to sleep early, too, despite their disbelief in Santa.

Christmas Eve was the one night of the year in which I was guaranteed a good night's sleep.

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A few hours later...

Rukia's Point of View

The many weird things that exist in this world. Apparently, adults tell small children that on one night of the year, a strange man comes into their house, through the chimney and leaves presents! How ridiculous! And pretty funny.

Crash!

I sat up straight in bed , wondering what happened. The sound came from downstairs, that was for sure.

I cracked open the door that connected my closet to Ichigo's room and found him fast asleep.

I was tempted to wake him up and have him find out what happened, but that was before my pride got to me.

I was a powerful soul reaper! I had been on for more than one hundred and fifty years! I didn't need Ichigo's help! I was more than capable to handle some human criminal!

But, I didn't have as much pride as it would have taken for me to leave the baseball bat I found in the closet.

When I got downstairs, I saw this guy with red clothes... and a hat... and a large bag...

Wait!!

Some guy was impersonating Santa while robbing people! The nerve!

I wasn't going to let him get away with such moral bankruptcy!

I jumped onto his back and proceeded to hit him on his head with the baseball bat.

The Santa impersonator let out a girlish shrill as the bat made contact with his skull.

This was strangely satisfying.

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Ichigo's Point of View

I woke to a kigh pitched scream.

Aw, man! This sucks! Christmas Eve was supposed to be the night when I get a full night's sleep! No one ever wakes me up on Christmas Eve! It was my gift!

I heard the scream again.

Hey, I thought, I know that scream. I know it well. It's Dad!

I sprinted down the stairs to see pummeling Dad in his Santa costume that he wears every year to put out the gifts. Rukia was on his back, whacking him with a baseball bat, shouting things like, "Die, Santa! Die!!" or "You Scum!" and "Robbing houses on Christmas, you make me sick!!"

"Rukia! Stop! It's my dad! Not a burglar!"

She froze mid swing, but she still held onto the weapon in her hand, waiting to pounce again.

My 'father'—the jury was still out as to if we were really related—was whimpering on the floor, shaking, with his hands covering his head.

"What do you mean, "It's not a burglar"?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.

I merely sighed and shook my head.

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The next morning, I awoke to Rukia hopping up and down on my bed, close to my head.

"Morning, Ichigo! Merry Christmas!" She practically yelled in my ear.

"Go away! And get off my bed!" I rolled over to face the window, shoving a pillow against my exposed ear.

"But is I go away, you'll can't get your present from me." She tugged on the pillow, pulling it away from my face.

I sighed and sat up. "What is it?" I glared at her.

"Your father's memory replaced and his injuries healed," she said seriously before cheerfully hopping into her closet.

I flopped onto my bed with a grunt.

Not nearly as good as a full night's sleep.

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I got this idea from a picture a friend of mine has in which Santa was being beaten by Rukia with a baseball bat, with her saying, "What do you mean it's not a burglar?" Picture on profile.

Reviews? -rattles can