"You suck." The frown on her face attests to her complete and utter faith in her words. "You suck in ways that completely defy definition, description, or deconstruction."

And she keeps going on like this, and he wonders how many words she knows that start with the letter d. He wishes she was someplace else right now. Someplace away from him.

Hell, five feet would do.

The he wouldn't be staring into smoldering—oh shit, smoldering—eyes and wondering why they're so impossibly beautiful. It used to be that violet was his favorite color, the color of fresh and fleeting dusk. But now it's not and he's all twisted. He looks at this one and thinks of panthers, lions. . . lionesses. Firm and feral with rending teeth and claws. Ready to strike and kill at a moment's notice, rip into flesh and tear it asunder.

Kinda like what's she's doing to him now. Only not so pleasant.

"Are you even paying attention, you (insert expletive for cat here)?"

She did not just say that.

Okay, so she did. He feels the eyes rolling back into his head. It's just like being back in the eleventh division.

With tampons.

She whacks him on the forehead with the heel of her hand. "Are you mad now?"

"Yes," he says loudly.

She hits him again. "No, are you pissed now?"

"Dammit!" Just as she reaches to strike him again, he grabs her arm and flips her over. She lands with a thud on her back. He can only gaze down at her in numb horror. She's too still. If she doesn't get up, he'll never get a chance to—oh nevermind. She arches her back, stretching like some mutant contortionist, moaning. Good god she just moaned. Please don't let her look at my crotch, pleasedon'tletherlookatmycrotch . . .

"That was damn good, Abarai. I never thought you had the nerve." She's on her feet and in his face. "I think we're ready to spar now."

He coughs. She gets into position.

"I hate you, Arisawa," he says.

"Good," she smiles before she attacks.

The golden pair are waiting outside when it's all over. Ichigo is stone-faced and shrewd. He can see the flush on Renji's face and deduce it's more than just being out of breath and sore. But he says nothing. That would only clue in Rukia, who as far as both he and Renji are concerned, is better off not knowing.

"I see you wiped the floor with his ass again," she congratulates Tatsuki, and Tatsuki grins and begins to boast, as usual. Of course Tatsuki knows he's letting her win. It amuses her he'd go through the trouble. She doesn't know the half of it.

Renji falls behind, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I don't understand why that old geezer makes these gigai so realistic," he whines, rubbing his neck.

"Then stop letting her beat you," Ichigo deadpans.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

Ichigo slows his step until the girls are several feet ahead of them. "Look. You're a mess. If you're thinking about something, you'd better make up your mind. Urahara'll charge you a fortune if you wreck that gigai and Arisawa only gets rougher if she senses you like it. You do like it, don't you?"

"I dunno."

Ichigo gives a snort. "Well don't say I didn't warn you."

"So that's where the bruises are coming from," Byakuya says. I thought maybe you were being reckless on the field. You're saying a human girl did this?"

Renji nods.

"Did you like it?"

Renji nods again.

His captain gives a little sigh. "I see the problem is much deeper than you first implied. Keep going. Oh, and Abarai?"

"Taichou?"

"I believe I told you to start from the beginning. Please pay better attention."

Next up: Meat and potatoes. Byakuya gets a big wet bite.