ICHIGO'S SCHEME
"Kuchiki! Kurosaki! What now?" Sensei shouted. The class was now staring at them, apparently distracted by their fight. Rukia looked down, Ichigo scratched the back of his head.
"Sorry, sensei," Ichigo muttered.
"You have reached the end of my temper," sensei grimaced. "I don't care whose fault it is this time. Kuchiki move to the back of the room, and Kurosaki, shut up. You're whining like a girl."
Ichigo protested even more.
"What— that's unfair! Why do I have to take the blame too?" he asked.
"You two fight like five-year olds. This is the eighth time this week I've caught you fighting over something silly."
Rukia stood up silently and took her things to her new seat. The class was trying to keep their faces straight, even Uryuu.
It was indeed the eighth time that week. One time, they were arguing about Rukia's drawings. Ichigo said it's stupid, Rukia said it's art. Then they were arguing about the crumpled paper on the floor. Neither claimed it and fought on who should throw it to the trash. This time they were fighting over the taste of mangoes and peaches. Rukia said they tasted differently, Ichigo said otherwise, which wasn't even their topic for their class discussion.
"Now, back to the topic—"
Ichigo looked out the window, and drowned the discussion by his thoughts.
"Why do I have to worry about this stupid seat assignments anyway? It's a good thing she's away from me now, right?"
But Ichigo knew he was lying even to himself. It was a bit frustrating. Rukia was across the room!
"Sheesh, he was starting to sound like an obsessed lover." Ichigo thought. And he was starting to feel something strange about her too. Anyhow, he has got to do something to at least apologize to her, for getting her deported to the end of the classroom.
He looked under his desk and saw a sharpener. Then he looked at Rukia's seat, then to the trash can beside her. He checked his pocket and felt something long and thin, which he supposed was his pencil.
An idea suddenly came to him.
"Heck, what am I, desperate?" he asked himself.
He stood up and the teacher turned again.
"What is it this time Kurosaki?" sensei asked.
"I'm going to sharpen my pencil sensei," he said.
"Okay, but hurry up."
Ichigo went to the back of the room, to Rukia. He took his writing tool from his pocket ans started sharpening it without looking at it. He was busy looking at Rukia, who was drawing something which looked like orange and red pineapples in black kimonos. Damn, the pencil was hard.
Rukia looked up, finally.
"Oi midget, about earlier," he started.
"Ichigo..."
"Look it's my fault, and I'm sorry okay?"
"Ichigo listen—"
"You don't have to apologize, Rukia. The blame is all on me," Ichigo said.
"Oh I wasn't going to." Rukia said annoyed.
"Then what is it?"
"I was going to ask why you're sharpening a pen."
Ichigo looked down to his hand.
"Oh damn."