Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the following work. All recognizable anime characters belong to Tite Kubo. I am making no profit from this story.

Author's Note 1: This is a kiriban (reward) one-shot for InifiniteDragon, who requested a Chad/Tatsuki piece with a "study session where everyone else cancels" prompt. Thanks for your support, InfiniteDragon!

Because my life always seems like a series of absurd events, I like creating absurd situations in my stories and playing them straight. This takes place just before the time-skip starts back up. Spoilers for early chapters of the Fullbring Arc. Enjoy!

Another Mystery

You could pursue it, hell I could do it

I'll just be quiet, when I get angry and hurt

I'm stopping traffic, cinemagraphic

With my long black coat hanging down in the dirt

And my hair clinging to my face in the rain

Like a goddess from the cult of beautiful pain

I don't want to be another mystery

-Another Mystery

by Dar Williams

"Hello?" Tatsuki said into the receiver as she lifted it to her ear. "Who's this?"

Ichigo's voice came over the line. "Hey, Tats. I…uh…got a favor to ask you."

Figures, she thought, not without a wee bit of resentment. He only calls when he wants something.

"Really? Do tell."

"I told the guys that they could come to my place tomorrow to study for the upcoming midterm, but Yuzu and Karin are planning a sleepover with some friends from school."

"Karin is participating in a sleepover party with other preteen girls?" That didn't sound like the Kurosaki twin Tatsuki had known since she was a squalling infant.

"Yuzu is forcing her. I'm not sure what kind of blackmail she has, but it seems pretty solid."

"Ah, there it is." She could just imagine the Kurosaki household teeming with squealing girls, uncomfortable male high school seniors, and an inappropriately exuberant Kurosaki Isshin. The potential for disaster could not adequately be described by current mathematical models.

"What, you don't think it's a good idea to have both in the same house? I'm sure your old man would make sure everything went smoothly," she said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.

She could hear him grimacing over the phone. "I'd rather the not see someone die in the ensuing chaos on account of a midterm."

"Still don't see why you're calling me." She knew what he was getting at, but she derived a certain satisfaction from making him ask.

"…Can we study at your house?"

"Why mine? I thought Chad has his own apartment."

"Not big enough."

"What do you mean it's not big enough? How many people are we talking about?"

"…Six."

"Six!"

"Er, seven, including you."

"SEVEN! Are you planning on inviting people at the bus stop? Just who the hell are you counting?"

"Oi! Quit shouting in my ear!" he griped. "Let's see… you (obviously), me, Chad, Inoue, Keigo, Mizuiro, and Ishida."

"Ishida? I have to have that prissy seamstress in my house too?" Something about the bespectacled snob rubbed her the wrong way, ever since he had suddenly become friends with her friends for what seemed like no reason at all, and she had been pushed out. Sure, she eventually found out about the Quincy and their relation to all the spiritual craziness in Karakura, but the explanation was belated by months and by then the damage had already been done. She never really got over the feeling that he had replaced her in her own social group. She felt the same way about Rukia—if not more so—but it had been over a year since anyone had seen her, and it seemed pointless to hold a grudge against someone she might not ever see again. At least, not in this life.

Ishida, though…"It's not like he even needs the study help!"

"Come on, Tats, I couldn't invite everyone else and tell him he wasn't welcome. And besides, he can help the rest of us."

"Then why don't we have it at his house? He lives in a freakin' mansion!"

"Something about his dad being a crazy control freak, I dunno. Look, Tats, Mizuiro's family is having a dinner party, Orihime's place has that leak again, and Keigo's sister is…well she's at Keigo's house," he counted off, one by one. "It's you or it's nobody."

She growled a bit more, but she knew that he knew he'd won. "Fine, but my room isn't that large, and Chad takes up the space of two normal-sized people. Ishida can sit in the closet." She frowned when she realized what she said. "I didn't mean it like that."

"What?" said Ichigo, oblivious. "Anyway, how's 5:30 tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me," she said. For more than just this. A lot more.

"Yeah," he said. His tone a shade more serious. "I know." Yeah. I know.

"You're damn right." She hung up without saying goodbye. Guess I'll have to clean up my room.

Chad was just walking up to Tatsuki's house when his phone chimed an 'email received' alert. Fishing the device out of his pocket, he slowed his steps as he tried to press the tiny buttons in the right order to access the message. No matter which model phone he got, they were all too small for his large hands, and he was always afraid he would break them like flimsy toys.

He stopped completely to shield the display with is hand, struggling to read the characters on the backlit screen outdoors.

It was from Tatsuki. "Hey everyone. Someone called out sick and Sensei asked me to pick up an extra shift at the dojo. My parents are out in Tokyo this week, so go ahead and let yourselves in. The key's under the ugly ceramic frog near the back door. My mom gets bent out of shape if people move stuff in the living room, so keep it in my room. Ichigo and Orihime know which one that it is. Don't go through my things, or I'll pull your esophagus out through your nose. –T"

He looked at Tatsuki's front door. No one waiting outside. I guess I'm the first here. He checked the time on the phone's display: 5:25 pm. Huh. Not that early. He walked around to the back door, but aside from a statue of a frog in a cowboy hat, no one was there either.

As he was debating the propriety of entering someone else's house without one of the friends that was closer to her, the dreary grey sky opened up and started to drizzle. No awning on the porch, he thought as the drops started to get bigger and leave dark marks on his shirt. After looking between the sky and the frog statue for a full minute, he resigned himself to the discomfort of being alone in an acquaintance's home instead of the rain.

He tilted the frog back to recover the key, unlocked the door, and put the key back under the statue. I shouldn't leave the back door unlocked while I'm in some other room, he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to an infuriated karate expert how he'd let someone rob her house while he was on the second floor. With that thought in mind, he locked the door behind him.

He slid off his shoes and put them behind an umbrella stand printed with an ivy pattern, far out of the way for the other six pairs that would probably be muddy when they were tossed to the floor. What now? he wondered as he stared at the stand. He contemplated waiting in the foyer for someone else to arrive, but that seemed…awkward. She said we should all go straight to her room. She wouldn't say that if she wasn't fine with it, he assured himself.

Her house was laid out as most houses where—living spaces like the living room, dining room, and kitchen spread out on the first floor, bedrooms on the second. He appreciated the decorating job that one or both of her parents had done throughout the home; rich colors, tasteful patterns and furniture. It made him wonder about the cowboy-frog out back.

As he climbed the stairs, his phone chimed with another message. He flipped it open to find a text sent to the whole study group. "Ah! sorry! I forgt I had to stay at my apt. until the mntence man comes to fix the laek! Please have fun, evryone! 3 3"Orihime's characteristic symbol-hearts stood in place of her name at the end of the message. That's a lot of misspellings. She must feel bad about cancelling. Orihime's texts got less precise the more anxious she became. Too bad, I'm sure she was looking forward to it.

When he got to the upstairs hallway, he was confronted with four doors, two of which stood open. The first open door proved to be a bathroom, but through the second, he could see a large vale tudo poster on the wall. Bingo.

For a minute, he felt a certain apprehension at the thought of crossing the threshold of the room. A person's bedroom was an intimate thing—an altar where one surrounded themselves with their most sacred possessions, symbolic of their likes, dreams, and desires. It was not uncommon for grieving parents to leave a dead or disappeared child's room exactly as they had left it, a desperate hope to hang on to them in some way. Standing around in the bedroom of a person not present was like being a voyeur into their private thoughts. Or maybe I'm making too much out of it because I'm uncomfortable to begin with, he thought, and stepped into the room.

Despite the poster, the room was not what he expected. Given Tatsuki's known love for martial arts, he actually expected more décor in the same style, but the lone vale tudo poster mingled on the walls with others for rock bands (one of them signed), anime, and framed artwork (some of which must have been done by Orihime—the picture of the robot woman, at least, was hers).

Just as he thought he'd managed to interpret the picture (the robot he understood, but why was there a gunslinger and a lion? And what's this other one with the dragon and the fairy?) his phone beeped another alert. "My apologies. My father required my presence at the hospital. I will not be able to attend." Chad understood immediately, though he knew that no one else but Orihime would. Ever since the Quincy had taken the mantel of protecting Karakura from Ichigo, they had established a code to refer to Hollow emergencies. So that talking about them openly wouldn't upset Ichigo. A reference to his father needing him at the hospital meant a minor threat he could take care of himself. A reference to his father needing him at any other location would mean he needed help, and would soon be followed with directions.

Chad thought the entire exercise was a bit pointless, and Ishida probably did as well. Ichigo is smart, it is obvious he would figure it out. But Orihime was insistent they protect his feelings, and the boys were insistent on protecting hers.

So, no Ishida either.

Feeling like it would be too familiar a gesture to sit down in a room he had never seen, he paced the small space slowly. She had three full bookshelves worth of books, split fairly evenly between philosophy, martial arts theory, mysteries, and science fiction. Where does she find the time to read so much? A shelf above a tidy desk held a stack of two-player combat video games…and about a half-dozen DVDs of popular romantic comedies. Really? He picked one up and examined the cover. Seemed like the type of movie where the main love interests really don't stay together in the end. Not precisely a feel-good movie. Still, it was far too…feminine for what he had previously supposed Tatsuki's tastes were. I guess that's why you shouldn't make assumptions.

Just as he was thinking that, his pocket chimed again. "Yuzus sick. Cant leave her alone. Well compare notes in class tomorrow." Ichigo's style of texting was the same as always, to the point and lacking apostrophes ever since Keigo spilled an energy drink on his phone.

Chad was starting to get a little concerned, as the cancellations by Orihime, Ishida, and Ichigo meant that, with the exception of Tatsuki, all the attendees of this study session would be students getting barely passable grades. The blind leading the blind, he thought, and hoped Tatsuki wouldn't be irritated by the burden of three underachieving boys. Mizuiro, at least, takes good notes. She might get something out of it yet.

He put the phone back in his pocket and took a few more steps around the room. His eyes were drawn to the dresser, where an extremely cute stuffed dragon sat with a pink ribbon tied around its neck. Happy birthday, Tatsuki! 3 read the heart-shaped card dangling from the ribbon. Orihime, thought chad. Though, the orange wristband with the black lightening bolt someone had slipped around one of its feet was probably not part of the original gift. How long has it been since she's worn that? It seemed like forever ago it had been part of her daily attire.

Next to the dresser was a corkboard with a multitude of overlapping pictures stapled to it. There was one of her and Orihime circa middle school, holding up a home-made pie (Orihime's smile beamed, but Tatsuki looked uncertain. Just what type of pie did they make?). Scattered amongst the pictures were representations of everyone from school at one time or another. There was even one of him and Keigo standing in front of a gold-fish catching stall at some festival. And in the lowest right corner, there was a picture old enough to be slightly discolored, showing a little boy and a little girl. Each no older than seven, they were dressed in traditional clothing and holding either hand of a lovely, smiling woman who had a festival mask strapped to the side of her head. The boy beamed. The girl was pouting. The woman…

Ichigo's mother.

There was another beeping sound. I should have just kept the phone in my hand, for all the time I've been on it.

"Yo. Me and Mizu…my sister…look, we just can't come. Please let us look at your study notes tomorrow!

Chad stared at the message, and decided he wouldn't even try to guess what had happened. So. It's just me then. Not for the first time, he berated himself for letting is grades slip* ever since he had started working with Xcution… but there was no use crying over spilt milk.

He hadn't spent much time with Tatsuki one on one, and he wondered if she would even be up for a study-session-turned-tutoring-session with only him. It seemed sort of unfair to her, considering he hadn't even brought snacks like a good study-guest. Ishida and Orihime were supposed to take care of that. Though if Tatsuki had expected Orihime's cooking, perhaps she hadn't expected to eat anyway.

He had just decided that it might be best for him to leave when he heard the downstairs door open suddenly and slam closed, followed by a series of heavy thumps as someone pounded up the stairs.

Too late.

Not wanting to look like he'd been snooping around, he positioned himself in the open floor space in front of the door, far back from the actual entrance so that she wouldn't run into him when she turned the corner. I'll tell her the situation and that I was just leaving.

When she came through the door, however, she couldn't see him. She couldn't see anything, because as she turned through the doorframe she was in the process of pulling a shirt soaked with rain over her head. Her arms crisscrossed above her ears, the hem of the garment was already pulled up over her face…and above her chest.

Chad's brain stopped working. It was not that he didn't have quick reflexes, or couldn't think fast in an emergency, life-or-death situation. The recent few years of combat had honed to a sharpened edge the instincts he'd spent a lifetime perfecting, both while he "watched Ichigo's back," and before he had ever even met the other boy.

This however, left him at a complete and utter loss. How did you tell a girl who did not even realize you were there that she had to stop taking her shirt off right now?What possible way was there to not make such an already ridiculous situation worse? His short-circuited brain was entirely unhelpful, since it refused to come up with a course of action, and instead limited itself to pointing out useless observations. She's grumbling about having gone out of her way for nothing. She must have taken a shower at the dojo, because she smells like soap. I never thought Tatsuki would wear a bra with little butterflies on it.

Even with the cloth wrapped around her head she knew where her furniture was, and without pausing she walked right past him to stand at the side of her bed. Apparently something got caught somewhere, because it took a few more seconds of tugging before her shaggy-haired head was pulled from the collar and the garment was flipped unceremoniously onto the mattress.

With her back now completely to him, her arms reached backwards to grasp the clasp of her bra.

His useless brain finally jerked to life, and its impulsive response was to start coughing loudly. Words were apparently still beyond it.

Tatsuki turned her head sharply to look at him, her hands still gripping the clasp behind her back. For a full second she looked at him standing there, the expression on her face as if she were trying to translate an English sentence into German. In that silent instant, he realized that at some point he had lifted his hands in an 'I surrender' pose.

What happened next happened so fast, he would only be able to comprehend it when he mentally replayed it in slow motion later. Tatsuki made a 'yelping' sound he didn't think she was capable of uttering, and threw the nearest thing to hand at him, which was actually the shirt she had just discarded. She then seemed to realize what she'd done, and for a second seemed like she was going to chase after it, but then though better of it and instead awkwardly hurried out of the room with her arms crossed over her chest.

When she bolted, Chad's hindbrain commanded him to do what in most other circumstances would be considered a self-preservation maneuver: runaway in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, the 'opposite direction' was the closet three feet behind him, and instead of the escape his instincts had promised, he got the sharp edge of the coat hook at the top of the doorframe grazed against is skull as he took one step and slammed into the closet door.

As he put his hand up to feel a ragged, oozing wound running across his forehead, Tatsuki yelled from the hallway, "What the hell are you doing here?"

What a good question, thought Chad. What was I doing here? Waiting awkwardly for you and everyone else to arrive? Contemplating what your personal items say about you? Accidentally seeing your butterfly undergarments?

"Bleeding."

"You're lucky, you know. Anyone else and I would have crushed fragments of their nasal bones straight into their brain," she said, one hand raked through his bangs to hold them back, the other swabbing at his forehead with a damp washcloth. "You," she shrugged her shoulders, "You I'll give the benefit of the doubt."

When she finally had given him the all-clear, he turned to find she had hastily thrown a baggy black T-shirt over her head that read "Band of the Hawk."* At least, he thought that was what it said—the words were difficult to make out through the blood dripping into his left eye. She'd taken one look at his face and the irritated expression had left her own. With an exasperated sigh, she'd grabbed his wrist, led him into the bathroom, and forced him to take a seat on the toilet lid while she applied first aid.

"Sorry," he said as she walked the stained washcloth to the sink to wring out. This was easily one of the most embarrassing situations he'd ever been in, and even the knowledge that it wasn't really anyone's fault didn't make it any better. "Most of the cancellations didn't come until after I'd gotten here. I was just about to leave when you came home."

"No, it's my fault," she said as she resumed cleaning the wound. "I got so many texts cancelling, I just assumed everyone had bailed. I didn't bother to go through the list in my mind." And I bet it didn't help that I locked the door behind me, he thought. It didn't help that I put my shoes far out of the way so you didn't see them when you came in.

She was quiet for a moment, and then said softly, "Pft. Head wounds. Always bleeding more than they should."

Chad stayed quiet, and tried to find a safe place to focus his eyes. With the extreme difference in their height, even sitting on the toilet his gaze was level with her neck, and whether he stared up into her face or down at her chest…suffice to say, there was not a place to put his eyes that he wanted to be caught staring.

He didn't tell her he could do this himself. After all, he too had a desire to help his friends that was so ardent it was part of his identity, and he knew that Tatsuki in particular had felt robbed of that identity when her friends had begun living secret lives. Or, lives they had thought were secret. He wouldn't easily forget the look on her face as he finally explained everything to her, Keigo, and Mizuiro after the Winter War, when they had returned from the fake Karuka.*

In the aftermath, they'd learned from Keigo's hysterical ramblings and Mizuiro's pale-faced, nodding confirmations that they had actually met Aizen in his fully ascended form, and that he'd pursued the group of teenagers in a strange game of cat-and-mouse. Considering how terrified of Aizen veteran Shinigami were, he could scarcely imagine what it had been like for them—powerless, utterly confused, and running for their lives without even knowing why they were in danger.

In the wake of the loss of his powers, Ichigo remained in a state of unconsciousness, and no one was sure when he'd wake back than wait, Ishida, Orihime, and himself had consulted with each other and decided that they deserved the truth now, while the events were still fresh. By all accounts, they had had a profoundly traumatic experience. If they weren't able to make sense of it, it might just cause them more problems later. Dios, I myself have enough trouble sleeping, some nights. He did not want that for any of his friends, if it could be helped.

Ishida wasn't really close to those three, and Orihime couldn't bring herself to explain while she was still dealing with her own private memories of horror and pain. Thus, while they were both present for the discussion, the task had fallen primarily to Chad to explain the last few months of their lives.

The boys had asked plenty of questions, but Tatsuki had just sat there looking at the floor with her arms crossed in front of her, her expression distant. He remembered fearing that her silence was simply the 'calm before the storm,' and that she would erupt into angry and violent outburst when everyone had finally finished talking. In retrospect, that probably would have been better than what she actually did.

She had stood and looked at each of them calmly in turn, then focused on him. "That creature. Aizen. Whatever the fuck he was. You know what he said to me?" Her eyes held a weird emotion he could not interpret then, and still couldn't to this day. Her voice was soft. "He said that he was going to kill me. He stood over me, with a fucking sword pointed at my chest, and said that killing me would help Ichigo reach his full potential, whatever that meant. You know what the last thing Ichigo said to me before that happened was? When I asked him what was going on? That I should 'mind my own business.'" She snorted, but it was an empty sound, full of defeat. "You shouldn't be the one telling me this." And then she walked out of the room without looking back.

Chad remembered watching her tense shoulders as she walked away from her friends, and feeling something like a cross between failure and regret.

Now, more than a year later, the girl seemed to have gotten over it relatively well. She hadn't appeared to hold a grudge, not even against Ichigo, and though she got suddenly silent when any conversation of a supernatural nature came up, it wasn't like they talked much about it at school anymore, anyway. No point in making Ichigo feel worse.

"Hmm…I know this isn't going to be the best news, but that hook is kinda rusty. I'm going to have to peroxide this." She stared at him with a questioning look on her face, and it took him a second to realize she was waiting for him to give his approval. Silently, he gave a nod.

With her foot, she pushed the bathroom's garbage can between both their feet. At her direction, he tilted his head to the side so that the liquid wouldn't run into his eyes when she poured it. Her free hand pulled his hair out of the way ("Let's try not to make you a blonde") and suddenly his forehead was alive with the sharpest burning sensation he'd felt since returning from Hueco Mundo over a year ago.

I had completely forgotten what this was like. How long had it been since he'd had a deep cut that wasn't fixed by Orihime a short time later? With Inoue's powers, one didn't even have to bandage a would, let alone sterilize it. This is why she gave me that questioning look.

It wasn't even close to being the most painful thing he'd ever experienced—not even in the same ballpark—but the sharp stinging sensation caught him completely off guard. In pure reflex, he grabbed the wrist holding his hair in a crushing grip.

Tatsuki didn't even flinch. "I know it hurts like a bitch. Try to hold on just a little bit longer. It's almost done." And then, without warning, she gently blew on the fizzing wound, relieving some of the sting.* Unbidden, it made him recall one of the last memories he had of his mother, blowing gently on his scraped knee before applying a Band-Aid, smiling in the way he imagined angels did. "Bueno!"

Chad wasn't sure what kind of expression he had just made, but it must have been strange, because Tatsuki suddenly blinked and an embarrassed blush dusted her cheeks. He was suddenly conscious that he was still tightly holding her wrist.

"Sorry," he said, releasing her. He struggled for more words, but came up with nothing.

"Pft. Do you know how many guys grab my wrist every day? And you weren't even trying to twist it into an submission lock." Something about her manner was subtly more awkward than before as she wiped the remaining peroxide off his forehead and started adhering a few butterfly bandages across the wound. "I'd remind you to clean this nightly, but you probably know how to take care of a cut."

He made an affirmative sound as he stood up, instantly becoming nearly two feet taller. "Thanks." There was an awkward moment of standing and looking at each other silently in the bathroom until Tatsuki turned on her heel and strode out.

He followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she pulled open the blinds to reveal a gray world mostly obscured by the pounding of heavy rain against the glass pane. She stared out the window a few moments while he glanced at her without trying to make it obvious.

"I never said thank you. For telling us all the truth," she said after a while.

He wasn't sure why she was bringing this up now, but he supposed the 'why' didn't matter. Maybe this is the first time she's had a chance. "I never said sorry. For not telling you sooner."

"Look, Chad…" she said, still looking out the window, "it's still pouring out there, and it will be for a while. So, we have two options. One, you could leave now and try walking to your apartment in the rain, re-bandage your forehead when you get home, and dry out your shoes with a hair-dryer. Or two, we can forget that I took my shirt off in front of you and blew on your face, and then no one needs to be embarrassed as you help me cook some dinner. And then we can go over the test material after we eat."

Almost before she had finished speaking, his stomach answered for him by growling loudly. She smirked. "Dinner it is."

And while he helped her pull down pans and dishes from shelves far out of her reach, he thought about how his perception of her would be forever different after this day, like unraveling a mystery had not realized was a mystery. Not just the surprising contents of her room or the prints on her underwear, but her gentleness too, and her directness in dealing with her own discomfort.

And maybe, if he got to know her even better, it would continue to change, until he could confirm a suspicion of his that was beginning to grow; that she was one of those rare occurrences in this world of something tiny yet sturdy, that he might be able to hold without fear she would break in his hands.

Author's Note 2: I hope you liked it, InifiniteDragon. I hope it didn't seem too directionless. I seem to be unable to write fluff in any capacity, but I tried. Sorry there isn't a kiss or anything, but I figured semi-nudity was a good substitute. (To everyone reading this note, if you like Chad/Tatsuki, InfiniteDragon has written some great stories for them that you should go check out!)

Thanks for reading! Whether you liked it or hated it, I adore feedback of all stripes, so please drop a review if you have the time!

Story Notes:

Letting is grades slip: Yes, I know in the manga cannon that Chad started out in 11th place academically, and so it might seem like him having poor grades and needing study help in this story is a bit incongruous. However, it feels unbelievable to me that all the Karakura kids could maintain good grades with all the shit they seem to go through all the time. So, in this story, he's been a bit distracted with Xcution, and his marks reflect this. I hope that clarifies things for everyone who was like, "But Chad gets good grades!"

Band of the Hawk: A nod to the much anticipated (by me) release of the new Berserk OVA. There's no way Tatsuki isn't a huge Berserk fan. Anyone out there who's not squeamish of blood should check it out.

As he finally explained everything to her: In the first chapter of the manga after the time skip, Ichigo thinks to himself that when he woke up, someone else—"probably Chad or Orihime"—explained everything to Keigo, Mizuiro, and Tatsuki, and he never had to talk to them about it himself. This always struck me as an incredibly huge cop-out on Ichigo's part, since right before the timeskip he tells Urahara he's glad no one's memory got erased, because he was finally going to tell everyone the truth and be honest with them. I really hope that there is some sort of acknowledgement in the final arc that this was kind of a bullshit move. That being said, I find Chad to be the likeliest candidate of the three (Orihime, Ishida, and Chad) to actually buckle down and give them the truth.

Relieving some of the sting: I'm not sure how many of you have ever used hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) to sterilize wounds, but 1) it hurts, and 2) blowing on it while it's working really does help the pain.