[Edited as of July 21, 2014]

Chapter Two: Contact Sport

The wake-up alarm had to be the most hellish sound to be ever graced upon this mediocre world.

Rukia's head was filled with that thought on repeat as she forced herself to ignore its meeping, crawl out of bed, and change into presentable school clothes. For some undiscernable reason, she wasn't able to fall asleep last night until well past midnight, and "refreshed" would be the the furthest thing to describe her messy-haired, groggy appearance.

Bleary-eyed and only half lucid, she dragged herself to the bathroom to fix her face and then down to the kitchen and tried to fix a quick-and-easy breakfast. After pouring some cereal into a bowl, one of her hands slipped, and spilled milkup ended up on the countertop. "Ah, fuck!"

"Problem?" A cool voice drifted from the adjacent dining room. Byakuya looked up from his place at the table, legs crossed and the morning paper in hand. Some coffee sat where his hands could easily access it.

Almost dropping her spoon in surprise, Rukia spun around on her heels towards the direction of the voice. "Oh, good morning, Brother. Didn't notice you there. I- I was just getting some... milk." She quickly cleaned up and went to join him.

The subject of swearing was a touchy issue in the Kuchiki household. Although Byakuya acknowledges the fact that his adoptive sister does in fact cuss, he still deems it an unseemly and unfitting behavior for someone of high esteem like their family. Knowing that, Rukia made sure to tread carefully (more carefully than normal, that is) in his presence, but slips do occur sporadically, such as when a person was running on less than six hours of sleep. However, Byakuya seemed to be in a pleasant mood today, and seeing how unrested she was, he made no comment on the occurrence.

The remainder of breakfast was spent in their usual silence, with either party sometimes offering comments on the weather, the stock market, or perhaps the general state of affairs in the government. Standard mealtime procedures.

After draining all the remaining milk from her bowl, Rukia took a second peek into the bathroom mirror to make sure her hair didn't look too wild and ran outside towards the bus stop a block away.

Ichigo was already there waiting, chatting with Tatsuki, a backpack slung across his shoulders. The twins, who were in ninth grade, stood off to the side, preoccupied with a conversation of their own. He paused almost imperceptibly during their conversation and shot Rukia a quick glance, but made no moves to speak to her.

She occupied herself for a few minutes by kicking some of the stray pebbles on the sidewalk.

The bus ride to Karakura High was uneventful as usual. Some people were extraordinarily loud, and some didn't speak a word. Some were doing homework, while some copied math worksheets number-for-number from their friends. Some couples were displaying overt PDA, while others who were clearly fighting glared daggers at each other. Rukia took her usual seat next to Orihime, and the oh-so-perfect strawberry sat two seats back from them.

Orihime shot an extra big grin toward his way when he passed by their aisle and gave a perky "hello" to Tatsuki.

"His eyes look nice with that shirt color," the Inoue girl leaned in and whispered to her friend after sliding down a few centimeters on the bus seat.

"If you say so." Although Rukia did feel curious enough to glance back and ascertain what clothes he chose to wear, she had to disagree. "I don't know, it's just brown. A very ugly brown."

"No, no, it's more of a golden brown, like amber maybe. Or caramel candy coated with some duck sauce."

"That's a different thing completely. To be honest, his eyes don't even compete with Keigo Asano's," Rukia colored her voice with faux admiration, knowing that the boy was sitting just a seat away. "Now his eyes are enough to send shivers and feelings of being creeped out down my spine while Kurosaki –"

Clearly having overheard their conversation, though who's to say he hasn't been eavesdropping the whole time, Keigo protested with a, "I'll have you know, I have been told that these eyes of mine are lady-killers. That is, girls see them and then drop dead from such an overwhelming sense of their beauty."

"I do think they're rather nice, Keigo," Orihime said, though Rukia could obviously see she was trying her best to not burst out laughing.

"There's a certain charm to the way they, ah, see things," Rukia added and pulled her best pokerface.

"Damn right. Twenty-twenty vision all the way." He gave them a thumbs up, but his attention was completely taken away when Rangiku got into the bus and passed by his seat.

Homeroom was a welcoming escape from the tight, claustrophobic environment that the school bus provided and was always a curious thing to behold. The teacher in charge of their class was a man called Shunsui Kyoraku, and he had everyone whose last names began with the letters "I" through "K." However, because of his affinity for falling asleep even before the students have arrived, he rarely took attendance on time and let all the students pretty much run free. Mostly, homeroom duties fell to Uryu Ishida, who felt responsible to make sure there were no murders, drugs deals, or flashes of nudity in the room.

Kyoraku must be a deep sleeper as well, because it often got quite crazy, like that time a full-out brawl occurred over the correct way to do Don Kanonji's trademark pose. Nine times out of ten, he continued sleeping, and that one consists of him joining in on the ruckus.

Rukia was one of the first students to arrive, Orihime having slowed down to accompany Ichigo to his locker, so she decided to hurry ahead. It was better if she didn't have to witness her friend attempting to flirt and him being extraordinarily dense about it. She really deserved someone more astute, like maybe Uryu, who consistently stuttered while speaking to her despite being otherwise perfectly eloquent. He was a bit less well-liked than Kurosaki, having been called uptight and such, but at least he didn't an eyesore for hair.

It was also at times like this that Rukia often blamed the cruel alphabet for always pairing herself up with Ichigo. The majority of her teachers also insisted on seating their students alphabetically, and one doesn't require much imagination to see how that one usually turns out.

Fortunately, homeroom deviated from the norm and happened to be one of the few classes where no one followed the seating chart. Many wondered if Kyoraku even bothered to make one in the first place.

Unfortunately, the principal was present when Rukia walked in, meaning that the teacher would be on top of his game today.

Nanao Ise was a straight-to-the-point, taking-no-bullshit type of woman, and commanded immediate obedience, despite her slender size, which contrasted greatly with how Kyoraku operated. However, what physics class once said about opposites poles attracting must be true, because the man actually straightened up somewhat and tried to appeal to her demands when she was present. Whether that was the effect of affection from his side or not was up to debate, but several bets have already been made throughout the homeroom.

"Ms. Ise, how come you're here this morning?" Rukia greeted, not entirely pleased with the development. With Kyoraku being in actual teacher mode, this meant all the students had to follow everything by the rule book for fear of detention. Meaning no verbal fights from across the room, testing paper airplanes, or anything except staying in their seats and speaking in a calm manner.

"Standard, biannual staff evaluations," Nanao explained, tapping a clipboard with her pen.

It didn't take long for the rest of the class to arrive, and after seeing the principal present, Uryu Ishida's desk became a particularly popular place to congregate before the late bell rang. He was the mathematician and bookie behind all the betting and gambling that occurred in the class, so anyone who wished to place wagers or to change their previous bets went to him.

Throughout the four years that the Kyoraku homeroom had been together, several rounds have been played, and significant amounts of money have changed hands in ownership.

The very first gamble that had taken place was whether Ulquiorra Cifer, the palest student in the school, could tan or not (the answer to that was undetermined, as no one could convince him to stay out in the sun long enough – and bear witness to it – to draw a scientific conclusion). Then there was the infamous one over whether Ichigo could win in a fight against Kenpachi Zaraki, the most athletic student. That was cut short when the rumor of a fight circulated to the school officials and they threatened expulsion if any violence were to break out. Then there had been a recent one fought over whether Keigo or Kon was better at sneaking into the girls' locker room (both of them were pummeled pretty badly by Tatsuki Arisawa, so a tie was called).

The latest one, and one that has been going on for quite a while, was of course based on the true nature of Nanao and Kyoraku's relationship.

It all first began as a game of sorts that went on within the confines of the homeroom, and as statistic practice for Uryu, but slowly grew out of control. Now, the entire senior class participates and has turned into more of a tradition as time went on.

Roll call lasted for barely a minute, and there was only one announcement that was of interest to Rukia: "Don't forget to place your votes in this student council president election. The polls will close and the results will be announced tomorrow."

Rukia sneaked a glance at her forsworn rival who was finishing up some homework instead of paying any attention. Both of them were front runners in the election, and she had no intentions whatsoever of losing to Ichigo.

After all the absent students were marked down, Kyoraku chatted up the principal, or at least put forth an honest attempt. The rest of class sat around in silence, partly for its awkwardness and partly for its quiet intrigue. Nothing is quite like the experience of witnessing teachers trying to flirt.

The bell was a defeaning sound compared to the quiet in the room when it finally came, and Rukia hightailed it out of the room. She walked alongside Momo to their shared first period, which happened to be gym. Although she possessed a small stature, Rukia nonetheless liked to consider herself at least adequately athletic, particularly during activities that require dodging.

However, that skill won't be much use for the day, because the chosen activity turned out to be basketball. Many of the boys were gladdened by the news, including Kurosaki, seeing that a number of them were on the school's team. Their teacher was a slender, dark-skinned woman whom everyone called Yoruichi. One of her hobbies was blowing her whistle as hard as she could, and she did exactly that then ordered everybody to group up into teams of four players, and God help her if anyone gets left out because exclusion will not be tolerated at this school.

After that was done and over with, she explained the objectives for that day's class, which was for the teams to play several mini-matches, each lasting five minutes. Hopefully, that will promote more individual participation.

Rukia cracked her knuckles with a reassuring grin and turned to her team, which consisted of Momo, a tiny girl named Yachiru, and a straggler called Hanataro who was too shy at first to ask to join a team. "Don't worry, guys, we totally got this."

The doubt came after seeing their first opponents.

After being randomly assigned a team number by the teachers, all the teams were paired up randomly to go against each other, and Rukia's was chosen to face four boys who were all past or present members of the Karakura basketball team. Zaraki, Grimmjow, Chad, and who can forget fate cruelly shining down upon her, Ichigo Kurosaki. Their team gave Ichigo the privilege to tip the ball.

"I'll do it," Rukia murmured, confidence dimmed, to her teammates out of the corner of her mouth. It was almost instinctive, as competition against the strawberry was not such a foreign thing to her. Rather commonplace, actually, that she has grown accustomed to it. Had she not disliked him so, then she could even call him something of a motivator, always pushing her to just be better than him at things, whether that was in gym class or not.

Ichigo smirked when he saw her approach the center of the court.

"You won't be smiling after you lose the match," Rukia growled, suddenly extremely conscious of their height differences. She barely reached his shoulders, which didn't bode well in the fields of intimidation, a thing that was key in playing sports. Maybe she shouldn't have gone on a whim after all and volunteered for the ball-tipping duty, but in no way was it possible to back down now without appearing fearful.

And up the ball flew, launched by Yoruichi, but Ichigo made no moves to grab it. It fell right into Rukia's open palms, but she stood frozen as well, confused by his immobility. She had expected an intense battle, but this was just slightly insulting, "Are you just going to let me have the ball?"

"Why not," he shrugged almost snarkily, as if it were no big deal. "I mean, seeing who you're up against, you should appreciate the help."

"What's that suppose to mean? I have a perfectly competent team!" She shoved the ball at him. "I don't need your pity."

"I'm not trying to pity you! Just take the ball, goddammit." He threw it back, but its path was intercepted by a very disgruntled Grimmjow before it could reach its intended recipient.

Growling, he gave them both a look of disgust. "Take your flirting somewhere off the court." Then, it was as if a switch had been flipped, everyone on the gym floor snapped back into serious mode. The game finally started and the timer, set.

Rukia tore away from the center of the court and ran to defend. Yachiru yelled that she would be handling Kenpachi, which Momo appeared rather concerned about. However, she didn't' have long to dwell on that because she had her own person to keep track of. Hanataro then stepped up and tentatively claimed Chad. The other team scored for their lack of organization.

Then they continued to score, many times.

When there was only two minutes left and Rukia's team was still devoid of any points, she decided that she had to do something. Her pride, their team's pride, was at serious stake here.

Momo currently held possession of the ball, but she was cornered by both Ichigo and Chad with no way to pass it without it being obstructed by an enemy teammate. The girl threw a look of bewilderment at Rukia, who began to devise a plan. She was small enough dart into the gap between the two of their opponents, snatch the ball from Momo, and hopefully escape without it being stolen. Finally, her size might become an advantage. Yes, this would definitely work.

After a silent preparation of counting to three, Rukia leaped forward with a short battle cry, completely determined – only to have someone's elbow slam directly into her face.

Ichigo must've turned around suddenly after hearing her yell, consequently swinging his arm around. Inertia kept it flying until it met an obstruction, which was unfortunately Rukia's face. With a yelp, she staggered backwards, clutching her nose. It stung like hell, and a few drops of blood began leaking out. The whole room fell silent, and Momo gasped and dropped the basketball after noticing the crimson on her friend.

"Kuchiki! Are you alright? Still alive? Good." Yoruichi blew her whistle and ran up towards the girl. She pointed a finger in Ichigo's direction and commanded, "You, Kurosaki, take her to the nurse's office!"

Rukia began to protest vehemently that she was absolutely fine, but that was cut short when Yoruichi shoved her outside the gym along with Ichigo, saying she better not come back until the nurse says it's alright for her to. The blood had ceased its flow, and Rukia felt a strong urge to wipe some of it on Ichigo's shirt as payback for such a dirty trick. But no, that would go against all the courtesies and manners that Byakuya taught her. What made her feel a warm glow of satisfaction, though, was when she saw that her reluctant escort appeared, if possible, guilty. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his gym shorts, and he padded a few steps behind her.

Feeling her accusatory gaze, he lifted his eyes, shrugged in a 'what can you do' way, and said, "Sorry about that."

That made her snap, "'Sorry'? That's all you've got?"

He held up his hands in protest. "What else am I suppose to do? Grovel at your feet for forgiveness just because of a small accident? Sorry, but you're not as worthy of that as you might believe."

Clenching her fist, Rukia halted in her steps and turned to face Ichigo with an expression that conveyed murder. There was no Uryu here now to stop her if she did wish to do so. Poking an index finger harshly into his chest, she snapped, "I'll have you know that I wouldn't forgive you even if you did grovel at my feet for forgiveness. You're not as worthy of my forgiveness as you might believe."

"Well, I didn't. Grovel, that is."

"That's beside the point! You're the one who's at fault here for making me bleed all over my face. And humiliating me in front of the class as a result." Rukia was now standing on her toes in an attempt to gain some leverage in height.

He frowned, as if contemplating something, then burst out in a laugh. Alarmed, Rukia took a step back.

After finally composing himself, Ichigo managed hand out an explanation, "You still have blood on your face, by the way. Maybe we should postpone this argument until later, when you don't look like someone who had just committed murder and forgot to clean up the evidence."

"Maybe you're the one who really needs to be murdered..." Rukia muttered under her breath and stalked away towards the school nurse's office, livid.


A/N: I want to say that this fic is based on the American school years system, meaning 5 years for elementary school, 3 for middle, and 4 for high.