Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Bleach. I can't even begin to describe the horror that would ensue if I did.
"I keep telling you I don't want to do this," muttered Ichigo as he stared up skeptically at the ramshackle building in front of him. It consisted of one floor that hugged the ground, and a small one at that from what he could see. The brick façade was crumbling along with all the shingles on the roof, and the wooden door hanged loosely on its hinges, unmarked and warped beyond repair. The whole thing looked like it would fall to pieces if he nudged it too hard.
If Ishida hadn't told him, he would have never been able to tell that it was supposed to be for human use, let alone a bar.
"One night, Kurosaki, and then you can go back to your sulking." Ishida responded, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice. He liked Ichigo, he really did, but the man was absolutely insufferable at times. Ichigo's way of solving his problems was to lock them away underneath a mask full of scowls, preferring to suffer in silence instead of talking to anyone about it. Why he did it nobody knew, but it certainly was a bloody pain in the ass for his friends to figure out his problems and keep them in check, especially since he was so damned good at hiding his emotions—a trait that his military training only enhanced. It was taxing, especially on Inoue, whose love for Kurosaki was so blatantly obvious that everybody knew about it except the man himself.
Inoue's taste in men was as dubious as her taste in culinary delights, but Ishida wasn't one to question it if that was what she wanted. So when she had asked him to help her cheer Kurosaki up, Ishida had agreed, and silently resolved to tell Kurosaki of her feelings for him. So the plan was to get Ichigo as drunk as possible so that he would momentarily forget the concept of cooties—Ichigo was hopelessly immature on the woman front—and tell him that Inoue loved him. It would be impossible not to love Inoue after that—it already was, really—and everybody would be happy.
If, of course, Ishida overcame his overwhelming urge to kill Kurosaki. The man was acting like a petulant child already.
Ishida moved to enter the bar, but stopped as he saw Ichigo, still not budging at the entrance. He sighed, and said, "I'll treat you."
Ichigo shrugged and followed Ishida in, relenting. It wasn't his business if Ishida really liked getting drunk in falling down, disease infested shacks.