You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful.―

He's beautiful - so damn beautiful that it made Ikkaku's heart melt every time he looked at him.

Snow fell softly against the large windows of the classroom, slowly filling up in the corners and spreading fog and frost over the inside of the glass like cruel cracked fingers. Yumichika fit right in where he was sitting next to the window, so pale and perfect, seeming to thrive in the cold weather.

He didn't shiver, and he only occasionally bended his fingers for flexibility against the numbing frost. Yumichika never rubbed his arms or breathed into his hands for warmth. Yumichika seemed at home here in the snow, here in the dead of winter.

Ayasegawa Yumichika, the ice prince, known for his vanity, intelligence, and being out of everyone's league. He was aloof, didn't speak much, and was impossibly beautiful. He sat there on the other side of the classroom, so far away from him. The distance between them had become colossal and intimidating. Ikkaku only knew his name because that was what the teacher had called him the first day of class when taking role. After a quick 'here', Ikkaku never heard Yumichika's voice again in the class.

He was so different from the way he'd been all that time ago, which was why Ikkaku hadn't recognized him, hadn't realized it was the same person he'd had a hopelessly-intense crush on in middle school. He only vaguely remembered it now. Yumichika had been one of Renji's friends – the only person besides Ikkaku and Hisagi that Renji called 'senpai' - and had been vibrant, colorful, vain, and rather snotty if he did say so himself. But he had loved him, oh how he had loved him.

He had remembered asking Renji about him multiple times, even though Renji was in the grade below him and Yumichika. Renji had laughed at him and told him that he didn't have a chance in hell with him. He clearly remembered the words: 'Yumichika doesn't have crushes. Yumichika has targets.' Apparently, he had become a target, because Yumichika had flirted with him and eventually let him treat him like his sweetheart, even though they never officially dated. They were only like fourteen, after all, but how nice it had felt to hold Yumichika's hand, to tell him jokes and buy him candy. That seemed so long ago now, to be so young and smitten. Those days were gone.

Ikkaku knew people changed as they got older, but Yumichika was so different in personality he may as well be an entirely different person. The man sitting in front of him had gone through drastic change. It had taken quite a while for Ikkaku to realize just who he was, to realize that this was his childhood love back for round two. He was still devastatingly beautiful, still out of reach, still a mystery, but this time he was not stuck up or snotty. He was silent and cold, almost listless.

Ikkaku had watched him for months from across the classroom. For a long while he'd thought that he might have some sort of disfigurement on his face, scars or something, because there was always a hand up to block him from being seen directly. His head was always pointed down, dark hair hiding his face in shadow.

Instead of the colorful stylish clothes he had worn when he was young, Yumichika was now in black. He always was. The biggest change Ikkaku had seen him make was to wear grey or white, with the occasional bit of other colors, but always dull, never vibrant. He was always in turtlenecks, always in long-sleeved shirts or coats, or even overly baggy clothes, despite their ugliness, even during the blistering heat waves at the start of the semester.

His hands were pale like marble, and whenever Ikkaku would stare at him during class just waiting on the off chance that Yumichika might switch position and give him a glimpse of his face, he saw that the skin there was just as pale. Too pale. No, perhaps not. That wasn't what was so odd about it. There was a just a tiny bit of greyish tint to it, barely noticeable, but it made Yumichika seem unwell, or sickly.

On top of that, he was so skinny, almost to the point where it was alarming, and he didn't seem to make any unnecessary movements. He almost seemed soulless, like that Nemu girl in Ikkaku's biology class. The biggest difference Ikkaku supposed there was here was that Yumichika didn't have that vibrant passion anymore. There was no voice, no snarky wit or brutal honesty. There was no fire, or fight, or heated-opinion, no snide expressions or snotty comments. There wasn't that spirit that had annoyed him so bad, that he had loved and hated so much.

Yumichika seemed like he was just drifting along, hibernating, swept away under a snow bank and forgotten.

But even so - every time he looked at him, he's beautiful, and Ikkaku's heart melted. And every time, it froze over again when Yumichika remained out of reach, an unattainable dream.

Ikkaku had tried many times to strike up conversation – After all, they'd been on good speaking terms back in middle school, and had been openly smitten towards each other. He'd even asked Renji for help, maybe to invite Yumichika and him to the same thing, just to make Yumichika be around him for a while to see that he was a nice guy and that he was worth dating again for real. The problem was, even Yumichika's precious Renji had trouble getting to spend time with him now.

Yumichika would always deflect his advances and find ways to weasel out of talking to him. Today, however, Ikkaku came early to class and sat down right next to Yumichika, so that he was trapped there by social convention, because it would be rude to get up and move now just to get away from him.

He tried to be nice, tried to be friendly, wanting Yumichika to feel okay about talking to him. Part of Ikkaku wondered if the aloofness wasn't what it seemed. Yumichika might not be too stuck-up to talk to anyone; he might be shy.

Surely he could melt that ice-prince act and get Yumichika to open up, to let him in again. Surely Yumichika remembered him too. He had to.

There was something about his shyness, something about his reserved silence that made Ikkaku want to know him. Maybe it was that unattainable aspect that made him seem so desirable, so mysterious. Maybe that's why he wants him so bad.

Oh, how he wanted to go back to the start and chatter to Yumichika during homeroom. How he wished he could see that stupid little flouncy walk Yumichika had had, or hear him complain about having a hangnail, a freckle, slightly uneven hair. How he wished that Yumichika would complain when he had to eat sub-standard yogurt for lunch. He wished that things were still the same, but alas, that Yumichika was gone. His flamboyance, his individuality, his never-ashamed pushiness, it was all gone, and Ikkaku missed it desperately. He wanted it back.

He wanted that snarky attitude; he wanted the sneers and the annoying whining. He wanted that prissy little way Yumichika had about him, he wanted the insults and the dramatics, and everything he'd been as a juvenile, because he loved how it made him feel. Back in middle school, he'd always be getting into fights and detentions, but Yumichika would just stand there and smile at him, congratulating him on his good luck. Yumichika made him feel brave and strong and worthy, and Ikkaku wanted that back - he wanted that feeling back.

So he sat there next to him, just basking in the presence of what had been burning within him since he'd found him again. He sat there looking at him, hoping for at least a tiny reaction, maybe a sign that Yumichika recognized or remembered him. He couldn't be some creepy obsessive weirdo who had been watching Yumichika for so long, without Yumichika having even noticed him.

Ikkaku side-slitted his eyes, feeling hopeful, clearing his throat to make his presence known.

Yumichika did not move away, but he did not look at him either, turning away and putting a hand up to block his eyes and face from view. Ikkaku decided to wait for a bit, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, because that was quite a clear sign: 'I don't want to talk to you.' He could have sworn that Yumichika was quivering, a barely noticeable tremble, but it can't be, because Yumichika never shivers. Maybe he really was shy… Oh, but that couldn't be either, remembering how he'd been. The Yumichika from those days was anything but shy, anything but insecure with who he was. It couldn't be that Yumichika was shy or afraid to speak to him, could it? No, surely not.

Maybe he'd just missed breakfast and had low blood sugar. That must be why he was shaking. It couldn't be nervousness - that was ridiculous.

"Hey, you want some of my donut?" Ikkaku asked, tapping on his arm, eager to make a good impression. Yumichika nearly jumped out of his skin, pencil flying out of his hand. He did speak, but it was to quickly and firmly refuse. Ikkaku didn't try to talk to him again, a little startled by the reaction. 'Geez... Kinda' jumpy.'

Ikkaku watched Yumichika during class, his graceful hands, that beautiful handwriting, and the swift way he wrote. He'd asked Renji all about him, wanting to be brought up to speed. He needed advice on the new Yumichika, because this was an entirely different person now. Ikkaku had confronted Yumichika several times himself, trying to set up to ask him out, and after hearing from Renji earlier today that he had finally gotten the guts to confess his feelings to Ichigo, Ikkaku decided that today would be his day too.

The day. He was going to tell Yumichika about his long-time feelings for him, and that the crush he'd had on him in middle school had lingered to this day. Maybe he was obsessive, or a doormat, or stupidly sappy, but Ikkaku felt that way all the same, even all these years later. He was going to tell him how smitten he was, and how much he wished they could spend some time together like they had used to back when they were young, back when things had been so easy.

Conveniently, their professor assigned a project that involved a partner. This had never happened before, but Ikkaku assumed that since Yumichika never talked to anyone, he would end up being an odd man out without a partner. He'd have to do the project with Ikkaku.

It wasn't as if they'd never talked. Ikkaku had gotten a few awkward conversations out of him since the donut incident, but Yumichika was always extremely obvious in wanting to end the conversation. Sometimes he even would start looking sick, clutching at his chest, grabbing something under his shirt. Yumichika always had some excuse or lucky escape, like a bus coming early, or class ending, or having a phone call to take.

Ikkaku supposed that subtlety wouldn't work here any longer, because Yumichika's refusals to his advances were about as subtle as a brick. It was time to do what he did best, which was to be as un-fucking-subtle as a wrecking ball.

Today he'd just come out and say it. He'd ask him on a date. It seemed almost easy, even though Yumichika had literally almost flung his homework across the room when he'd tried to share his donut. At least he wasn't in the same position as Renji, who had been a long-time best friend and roommate to Ichigo, who would likely feel betrayed when Renji's feelings were revealed. Ikkaku was lucky, because Yumichika, unlike Ichigo, probably wouldn't hit him if he confessed his feelings.

Ikkaku might really have a chance, and it excited him. Later. He'd ask him later. Maybe this time, Yumichika wouldn't be so eager to get rid of him. Maybe this time the risk would be worth it.

Anything would be worth it just to stare into those cold, icy, violet eyes, even if he became frozen, swept away by this endless winter's night. Ikkaku was ready.

"Aren't you cold?" they'd say. The world is the one that's cold. Not me.