It was just any other day in the life of Ichigo and Rukia. They had just come home from school, and they were about to sit down to dinner when Rukia made her usual offer to assist Yuzu in the preparation of the meal. To Rukia's dismay, Yuzu made her usual reply that it would be rude to let Rukia cook, since she was a guest. Only this time, Yuzu added a little something.

"Besides, Rukia-chan, I don't think you have quite enough experience in the kitchen," Yuzu stated.

Ichigo looked up from his manga. He knew that comment would bring nothing but distress for him in the future, but for now, all it earned was a slight laugh of agreement. Seeing as she had not offended Rukia, Yuzu continued with the process of making dinner. As always, it was delicious. It may have been better than usual, which would only bring Rukia down more. When dinner was over and both Ichigo and Rukia were in his room, Ichigo lied down on his bed and silently awaited Rukia's tirade of cooking-related nagging. As he sat on his bed, manga covering his face, he heard nothing, nothing but the slamming of his own closet door. Ichigo sprang up in his bed to look at his closet. It was only 7:30, why had she gone into the closet already? This whole cooking incident must have really gotten to her. Ichigo sighed, he was going to have to show some sort of human emotion, wouldn't he? Ichigo got up and knocked on the closet door. The door slid open a little, revealing half of Rukia's face.

"Hey, Rukia, are you alright?" Ichigo asked.

"Yea, of course. Why?" Rukia asked quickly.

"You seem a little down."

The closet door slid all the way open now. "I guess that comment Yuzu made about my cooking sorta got to me, but I'll get over while I sleep. Goodnight, strawberry," Rukia said, slamming the door shut.

Ichigo snorted, then went to bed himself. When he woke up the next day, Saturday, he went into the main room and started to eat a bowl of cereal. As he sat eating, Rukia came out into the room, fully dressed, and started on her way out the door.

"Where you headed, midget?" Ichigo asked.

"I've got cooking lessons to go to, idiot," Rukia replied, then ran out the door.

Cooking Lessons? Ichigo thought. Ichigo understood why she would want to get cooking lessons, but he still had a lot of questions. Where was she getting the lessons? There weren't any public kitchens in Karakura, and there weren't any ads in the manga for lessons. Rukia had to be getting the lessons from a friend, hopefully not Orihime. Nah, Rukia knows better than that, Ichigo comforted himself. But now had a normal Saturday situation: nothing to do, but there was an abnormal problem: no Rukia to keep him company. What could he do to pass time? He would be in a lot of trouble if Rukia's lesson didn't go well, so there was only one thing he could do: cook something himself just to rub it in Rukia's face when she got back. Ichigo smiled deviously to himself. This plan was positively made of the same evil all of Rukia's were. If Rukia came back and her cooking had gone well, Ichigo would show her what he cooked was better. If her cooking didn't go well, he could rub it in her face. Revenge, sweet revenge, Ichigo laughed in his own head. And how I am to do this, she may ask; I'll use the cooking lessons mom gave me before I joined the dojo… never thought they'd actually come in handy.

"Ichigo, son, if you sit around with that creepy smile all the time, people will begin to think you crazy or something," Ishiin said, snapping Ichigo out of his thoughts.

Returning to the real world, Ichigo set out on his quest to outdo what hadn't even been done yet.

XXX

The bell on the door rang as Rukia reentered the Kurosaki household. Ichigo looked away from his workstation in the kitchen to see the raven-haired girl entering the room holding a small wooden box, which he presumed contained her labors from the kitchen earlier that day.

"How did the cooking lesson go, midget?" Ichigo asked, almost sounding cheerful. That caught Rukia's attention.

"It went well, Ichigo," Rukia replied, eyeing Ichigo with some due uncertainty.

"That what you made… in the box?"

"Yep. Wanna taste it and tell me how it is?"

"Sure, but only if you do the same for me."

"Huh?"

Ichigo held out a dish of lightly friend chicken sitting on top of fresh, brown rice. It was decorated masterfully on the edges with sliced, green beans. Rukia stared wide-eyed at the plate, astounded that he had made this. In fact, she was so dumbfounded that she didn't believe he did it himself.

"Hey Yuzu! Could you come here for a minute?" Rukia called out.

Yuzu came down the stairs, into the kitchen, and delightfully spoke to her second sister. "How may I help you, Rukia-chan?"

"Did you make this food right here?" Rukia asked, pointing to the plate Ichigo held, causing Ichigo to sport an offended look on his face. Yuzu stared at the dish, as if studying it carefully, and then looked back up at Rukia.

"Nope! Ichi-nii made that all by himself. He used to cook a lot when mom was alive, but he doesn't cook so much these days." With that, Yuzu giddily skipped off.

Rukia looked at Ichigo who held out the plate. They traded their culinary creations, and Ichigo asked Rukia to go first. Rukia obliged, since there was no apparent danger in the food Ichigo had made; it actually looked pretty good. Ichigo handed Rukia a pair of chopsticks to Rukia, who took them and picked up a piece of the chicken. The chicken entered her mouth, and immediately she began to devour the rest of the food on the plate. In seconds the plate was empty, and Rukia was panting from cramming all that deliciousness down her throat.

"I take it you liked the chicken," Ichigo asked, his eyes as large as humanly possible.

"Y-Yes," Rukia panted. "That was fabulous, Ichigo. Why don't you cook more often?"

"Just don't," Ichigo shot back curtly.

Rukia recalled what Yuzu had told her about their mother giving Ichigo lessons, so she let the topic drop. "Alright, your turn!"

Rukia slid open the box of Rukia cooking, still looking at her. Somehow, he got the feeling he was going to regret this, so he didn't want to look at the food before he ate it. Ichigo took his chopsticks, and then he began his little tasting endeavor. The chopsticks arrived in his mouth… Oh dear Kami! Is this even food? Ichigo paused, he would know that combination of smells anywhere: it was the smells of wasabi and red bean paste.

"So how do you like it?" Rukia asked in her singsong voice.

"I-It's great, Rukia," Ichigo lied through his teeth.

"Hah! I knew it, you stupid liar!"

"E-Excuse me?"

"I didn't even cook that. Orihime did. You were too scared to insult my cooking, my prediction was right."

"This was all your plan?"

"Uh-huh, and you played right into it, strawberry."

"Why did you have this plan?"

"I wanted to see if you were scared of me?"

"I'm not scared of a midget like you!"

"You're compliment of 'my cooking' begs to differ."

Ichigo paused. "I just didn't want to hurt your feeling on your first attempt." Ichigo thought it was a poorly disguised lie, and a horrible excuse, but Rukia, to his surprise, took it hook, line, and sinker.

"Really, Ichigo?"

"You don't know how much I hate to see you sad." Ichigo didn't even need to lie in that department. "After all, what good would it have done for you to stop the rain in my life, and then have me turn around and let it fall in yours." Rukia had begun to tear up at Ichigo's beautiful words. Ichigo was confused, surprised, and downright awestruck at how all of this had turned out, so, in order to have a happy ending to this little saga, he Took hold of Rukia's wrists and pulled her back into the kitchen.

"Come on, let's cook something together. For real this time."