Khuhu, the second YukioxRiruka out there C: Just having fun before Kubo decided to shape out their personalities xD
"Damn it."
Eyes tightly shut, Ichigo shakily propped himself to the wall and exhaled, trying hard not to shudder. His whole body hurt – it felt as if each cell of his body was lit on fire. Coming out of the doll house hadn't been a pleasant experience. It was as though he was put on some ancient medieval torture device and his legs and arms were pulled and pulled until he was as big as before. That wasn't a pleasant feeling.
After a long-suffering sigh (seriously, how many trainings have I gone through and how many times have they worked?), the orange-haired boy opened his eyes and looked around. From first glance, there was no one in the room.
That weird barman guy with the eye patch wasn't here (that was obvious given his towering height), Riruka either (who was probably on her quest to find 'all things cute' again); and Ginjo was probably out of here, doing Important Business (tm).
The black walls were bare, nothing stood out against them; it looked like even the dust wasn't moving; there wasn't any noise, except some strange buzzing, most probably from some of the machine-things in the barman's corner.
Not a here. With one last glance, Ichigo returned to his shell where he continued to sulk about the things he'd been put through in the last day or something.
Really? What was that pig-tailed bitch thinking when she put him in that… dollhouse of hers and set a teddy bear on his ass? Who did she think she was? It had worked, really, but that didn't mean she'd had to do something like that. It was inhuman. Tonight he would surely have nightmares of pink plush bears...
(maybe, just maybe, he'd start respecting Kon and Yuzu's toys, just for that experience. Hell, if every plushie was like that, pretty soon the world'd be ruled by frizzy, warm, cute toys.)
"Damn her," he muttered to the air in the room, "What did she think anyway… putting me in a dollhouse. I bet she's just one of those girls who think everything that glitters is gold or some shit like that––"
"I'm sorry to butt into your inner monologue but I have to tell you that you're quite mistaken on this point."
Startled, Ichigo opened his eyes and glanced around the room, wondering who'd just spoken. After all, he'd just checked if there was someone in the room and, after the second examining, he couldn't see anyone.
Great, now he was imagining voices. What else now? Magic unicorns and ridiculous rainbows? Did Riruka's dollhouse contain some deadly illness from which the brain died? That'd explain the girl's lack of…
Click, click.
Ahh, there he was. That weird gamer guy from before when he was talking Riruka down. And when she'd jumped to badmouth him too. What was his name? Yukio or something?
The boy's head didn't lift from his game.
Ichigo felt very honoured. Really (he loved sarcasm too). He felt really nice that the other male didn't even spare him a glance.
But you could say he was a bit curious. Just a bit.
"What do you mean?"
Indefinable noise.
"Riruka gets to choose whatever passes into her dollhouse. She doesn't allow everything there," he started, "There are certain qualifications an object must meet. In order to decide if there are the needed qualifications in it, she has to look beyond the initial 'glitter', as you've so gracefully put it, to find the inner 'cuteness' or whatever and then decide which one can be allowed to pass. She's never fooled by initial facades."
Click, click.
Boom!
Ichigo felt like a kid once again. Not understanding, not able to understand.
"Oh, really? And how do you know that?"
The tiniest shrug went through the gamer's small body.
"She isn't very hard to read."
The orange-haired ex-shinigami decided to keep to himself the fact that he hadn't even thought of any possible depth to that crazed lover of all things cute. He'd just taken her for a spoiled kid who liked sweets too much and was kept there simply for her power. Just that.
Not that it really mattered. For him, former shinigami and Vizard, Riruka was nothing but means to get his lost powers back and see his friends again. However, Ichigo chanced a glance at him… On the other hand, it was different for him; she was something more for gamer boy over there. Though, surely, he'd never admit it, even in his mind, much less out loud.
…
After just another tiring training session, Ichigo slowly packed his things, listening absentmindedly to the banter of those two. Riruka had been eating some cake again but eventually had abandoned it in favour of retorting to Yukio's thoughts (as his name turned out to be) and getting angry when he didn't pay attention to her.
Interestingly enough, they were talking about him.
"I don't like this new guy."
"Why? 'Cause he's so much hotter than you?"
"Ugh. Don't say such things."
"What? It's true!"
"I have no need to listen to what twisted view of the world you have."
"Why you––"
"Stop whining. He's looking at us strangely."
"Well, it's not like––"
The pair continued bickering (rather, Riruka continued to give Yukio a lecture and Yukio continued ignoring her) while Ichigo just shook his head and, rolling his eyes exited the room. He really couldn't care less about the fact that that gamer boy didn't like him (after all, Hiyori acted like she hated him but in the end, she came to the battle against Aizen) but, seriously, those two…