"Who the hell is this?"

"Erm, R-Rukia Kuchiki, I-"

"Ah hell no! Another fucking collection agency? Don't you bastards have anything better to do?"

"Uh-"

"I already told you, stop being such goddamn pains in my ass and stop calling here! I hope you all rot in hell you good-for-nothing pieces of sh-"

"Sorry, wrong number!"

Rukia slammed the phone on the receiver like it burned, looking at it as if afraid it would jump up and bite her for a good two seconds before releasing a puff of breath and, taking the pencil tucked on top of her ear in her hand, she leaned forwards and crossed yet another name from the open phonebook on the desk in front of her. She put the pencil back over her ear before distastefully giving the phonebook an overview. The thick book that could probably serve as a useful blunt weapon lay open with a more or less equal amount of pages on either side. Which meant that Rukia still had about half a phonebook to go through.

Great.

Deciding she couldn't go much further without caffeine, Rukia pushed her -rather uncomfortable- chair backwards and threw her arms over her head, stretching out her sore limbs before getting up and heading towards the tiny kitchen area in her motel room. Now, you may be wondering why Rukia was just on the phone with such a charming gentleman, and apparently attempting to go through the entire Karakura phonebook.

Well, it was a funny story really.

Earlier that day…

Rukia didn't even wait for the car to come to a full stop before leaping out to the sidewalk, instantly feeling the cold droplets of water begin to shower her. She turned around to slam the yellow door closed as fast as she could, but not fast enough to keep her from getting a glimpse of the man in the driver's seat, leaning back to look at her and giving her a huge, overly creepy lecherous, yellow-toothed smile and calling to her, "Oh come on, baby! You know you liked seeing my-"

The rest was lost as a red-faced Rukia slammed the door in his face, not even bothering to offer to pay the man as she rushed to the back to retrieve her luggage from the trunk and haul it to the sidewalk. She shuddered as she watched the car speed away under the heavy rainfall.

That was the third cab she got on. She was still no closer now to finding the Katen Kyokotsu Motel than she was two hours ago when she arrived at the airport. She cursed at her bad luck and in a fit of anger stomped her foot at the same time as she threw her head back and groaned at the heavens. Unfortunately for her, she happened to stomp her foot right in the middle of a well-formed and distinctively murky puddle, successfully soaking the lower half of her boot cut jeans.

Rukia could only wonder in disbelief at how it was possible for the weather, which had been sunny and incredibly hot, was now pouring cats and dogs and utterly freezing.

Feeling her wet hair begin to mat to her neck and face and her clothes become heavier and clinging to her skin, Rukia began pulling her two rolling packs and laid them horizontally against the wall of some building she was standing outside of. Then she flopped down on top of one of the bags, setting her blue duffel bag on her lap and doubling over to bury her face on the bag. She stayed like that for a while, eyes shut tightly, blocking out everything but the heavy rain droplets pelting her back.

She didn't look up until she heard footsteps closing in and stop right before her, at the same time as the rain abruptly stopped soaking her. The tall figure of a man loomed before her. He wore a long worn trench coat and slightly ragged clothing, and he had a large umbrella held over them both, the rain making pitter-patter sounds as it crashed against it.

"Are you alright, miss?" he asked, his voice deep but his face wore a friendly expression.

Rukia looked up and, unable to lie at her current state, shook her head. The man offered her a smile and said "Why don't you let me help you?" He reached out a hand, wearing a glove with the fingers cut off, as if to help her stand.

Normally, Rukia would scoff at such a gesture, but right then it was almost as welcome as the umbrella. So Rukia reached her hand out to the stranger and he started to take her…

Watch?

The man reached all the way down to her wrist, and before she realized his intentions, yanked her silver Chappy wristwatch all the way off her wrist and slid out all the way off her hand in one rough motion.

"HEY!" she yelled after him and jumped up, but the man had already run way beyond her reach, her watch in his grubby hands.

Could things get any worse?

Looking down at the hand from which her watch had been ripped off, Rukia realized, they could. She stared at the smudged black ink on her palm, the numbers once written there blurred beyond recognition.

Rukia could have screamed.

Back at the present…

If anyone could claim to have the worst first day of a summer trip, it was Rukia.

One bus ride and another cab later, Rukia had finally made it to the Katen Kyokotsu in one piece…minus a wristwatch. It had been a limited edition Chappy edition too.

But her travesty had been far from over. After a teeth-shattering cold shower (thanks to the motel suffering some inconveniences with the plumbing) and a change into blessed dry clothes, Rukia had begun the arduous task of finding Orihime's phone number…one call at a time.

It would have been done in a matter of minutes, if only Rukia had managed to remember the girl's last name. After a few futile attempts of remembering the erased phone number, Rukia had decided to find the girl herself on the phonebook. Easy as it sounded, she found herself fighting the urge to pull her hair out in frustration when she realized she couldn't remember Orihime's last name.

So she'd gone on to call every Orihime listed…which turned out to be a lot. Rukia wondered at how many Orihimes could live in such relatively small town! Did parents get bored at some point and decide to all name their children the same? Cheesh…

Rukia filled her mug with deliciously hot, fresh coffee from the fresh batch she'd prepared; immediately taking it to her lips to enjoy the scolding heat that ran down her throat and spread through her chilled body. Afterwards she squared her shoulders and resolutely returned to the other side of the small motel room, where the desk was waiting for her with a telephone and a phonebook.

Setting her Chappy coffee mug (which she'd gone through the trouble of extracting from her still-packed luggage) on the desk beside the phonebook, Rukia returned to her seat and got to work.

"Orihime!" Rukia exclaimed with more glee than she normally would have felt after hearing the girl on the other line utter an excited "Rukia!".

It had taken her eight more tries, but she'd finally found the right one, to her great and utter relief.

On the other end of the line, Orihime giggled, presumably at Rukia's over excitement.

Well, after the day she'd had, getting a right phone number seemed like an accomplishment meriting her response.

"Listen, Orihime," she started, letting her excitement fade back into a normal tone. "I'm calling about what we talked about earlier. You said you'd meet me tomorrow to show me around…" Rukia trailed off, hoping the girl would catch on quick. "I was supposed to call you for directions to a coffee shop…" she elaborated.

"Oh, of course! I'll give them to you right away!"

Rukia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Orihime was probably the friendliest person she'd ever met, but she sure could be air headed…

Rukia hurriedly scribbled down Orihime's hasty instructions on a blank notepad provided by the motel room, and with a quick 'thank you' hung up and decided to get some well-earned rest.

Completely ignoring the upright humid bags full of her personal things that needed unpacking (and very possibly, air-drying), she made a beeline for the queen-sized bed, and without bothering to pull back the covers or settle in, she dropped down face-first diagonally across the bed. She didn't even bother pulling up a pillow before letting her eyes droop and allowing a much-needed sleep overcome her.

-x-

At ten in the morning the next day, Rukia was up and ready to go. Dressed in casual light clothing (but carrying a rain jacket as a precaution, as to avoid a disaster like the previous day's), she slung a large baglike purse over her shoulder, across her chest, letting it hang over her hip. She made her way over to the bed -its covers wrinkled and out of place after her night sprawled over them- to where her blue duffel bag lay, zipper open. She slipped her hands inside and extracted the most important of the bag's contents.

A smile tugged at the edges of Rukia's lips as she gazed at her most precious possession.

Her camera. A beautiful, fully black Olympus E-3 SLR; her baby. It wasn't her first camera; Rukia's very first camera had been a much humbler, much cheaper model that she had saved for herself way before she had the semi-approval of her brother to pursue photography. But this camera, this camera had as many memories as pictures it had taken. Rukia almost subconsciously ran a hand over the smooth edges as she smiled fondly at the camera and the memories it conjured up. The camera had been a gift, probably the best gift she'd gotten so far in her life.

Finished with her admiring ritual, Rukia carefully tucked the camera safe into her purse. One thing about Rukia: she almost never left anywhere without her camera. The number one rule about photography; you never know when you'll capture a priceless moment.

After one last check to make sure she had everything she needed, Rukia left the motel room. Unwilling to repeat yesterday's odyssey, she spared herself the trouble by going up to the front desk at the lobby, where a stiff-looking slender woman with bespectacled blue eyes and pinned-up hair sat; Rukia had the woman call her a cab to come pick her up straight at the Katen Kyokotsu. Fifteen minutes later, she was climbing into the back of the cab, reciting Orihime's instructions to get to the 'Urahara Coffee Shop', which she had long-since memorized at that hour of the morning.

The trip from the Katen Kyokotsu to the Urahara café turned out not to be too long, just over ten minutes; which meant Rukia arrived to the coffee shop just around 10:30am…Over one hour before she was actually supposed to meet up with Orihime.

Rukia considered killing time walking around and exploring the other shops and stores in the area, but remembering all of the day prior's mishaps, she decided she was safer just waiting in the café until Orihime got off her shift. With that choice made, Rukia pushed open the glass door upon which hung a white sign with the word 'OPEN' displayed boldly above the shop's hours of service.

A bell chimed when Rukia pushed open the door, announcing her arrival to the nearly empty shop. She let the door fall closed behind her with another chime, then stood there for a moment to look at the place.

The Urahara Coffee Shop looked like any other ordinary coffee shop at first glance; square tables scattered in the center of the room, with lower, more private booths lined up on against the walls. The smell of coffee beans mixed with other, sweeter smells to provide that unique appealing scent of a coffee shop. She saw a couple of people sitting at the tables in the enjoying breakfast as they leafed through the day's newspaper, and a man slumped in one of the furthest booths, working on a laptop set on the table. To Rukia's right, a long glass display showed off delicious-looking baked goods with small cards beside each one informing its price -which, she noticed rapidly, was rather steep-. Behind the display, a cash register sat unattended. Further back, Rukia saw the machine the employees used to make the coffee or other fancy drinks. Nothing out of the ordinary.

However, Rukia having the artistic eye of a photographer, soon noticed the inconspicuous qualities that distinguished the Urahara coffee shop from ordinary shops. First, and probably most noticeable of all, on the far back wall, amongst a clutter of pointless decoration and displays, three long curved slender objects, which she immediately recognized as sheathed traditional Japanese katana, were proudly perched on small hooks that kept them up on the wall. Furthermore, Rukia now noticed that the multiple rugs placed under most of the tables, which she'd thought at first to be quite ordinary, possessed incredibly unique qualities. One of the rugs greatly -too greatly- resembled a traditional Arabian carpet, commonly represented as a 'flying carpet', that should have been far too expensive for any small coffee shop to own…and it looked pretty authentic. Another rug was pure white and furry, and upon a closer look, Rukia saw it to be a very tacky, uncomfortably realistic dissected polar bear rug like the ones often shown in movies at hunter's cabins. Rukia shuddered at the thought and looked around, noticing multiple other hidden queers scattered around the whole room.

Other than the unorthodox and at times eerie decoration, the Urahara shop had the general pleasant atmosphere of any other coffee shop. Deliberately choosing one of the furthest booths -as far away from the polar bear rug as she could-, Rukia sank down.

She sat still for almost exactly three seconds before pulling her cell phone out of her purse and pressing a random button to light up the screen and look at the time -since her actual wristwatch was so conspicuously gone-, to see that two minutes had passed since she arrived.

Okay, so she had some serious time to kill.

With nothing better to do, Rukia pulled out the piece of paper where Orihime's instructions were scribbled down (though she'd committed them to memory as to not repeat anything like the 'phonebook' incident, she still brought insurance), then searched her voluminous purse for a trusty pen -never leave home without one; a lesson instilled into her by her brother since childhood- and engaged in a time-honored activity that had gotten her through many trials before: doodling.

It wasn't long before Rukia was enthralled in the intricate pattern of lines and curves that made up her self-proclaimed works of art. She was now blind and deaf to the coffee shop around her, too immersed in her newest masterpiece to notice the footsteps that neared her.

She didn't notice the tall figure looming over her shoulder until a gruff voice spoke up and signed his death warrant.

"What the hell is that piece of crap?"

Those were the first words she heard him utter. Her first reaction was, inevitably, to nearly jump out her skin of surprise due to the words spoken just over her head.

"Gah!" she had shrieked involuntarily, whipping around in her seat to look up at the reason of her sped up heart.

Her gaze focused on orange. Really bright orange.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya. Though I can't see how anything could be more frightening than those abominable drawings." The orange-haired -yes- she corroborated silently to herself- orange-haired man standing behind her said.

Rukia's shock over the man's hair color faded quickly as the full meaning of his words dawned upon her. Instantly, her eyes widened and she felt the anger rising up from her stomach to her tongue.

"The only thing abominable around here is that ridiculous hair!" she snapped back, completely ignoring that this man was a perfect stranger standing inside a coffee shop with other people around. To Rukia, it was just an idiot who had insulted her works of art.

The man seemed momentarily taken aback by her retort, but then his face settled back into a scowl she vaguely remembered him wearing just before and he just rolled his eyes before saying, "Like I haven't heard that before."

Rukia glared at him, annoyed with the way he just brushed off her insult, but also mildly embarrassed by her sudden outburst. She couldn't help it, it was a reflex to insult inferior-minded beings who dared mock her art…and Chappy. Messing with Chappy was the ultimate crime.

Choosing to ignore the man now, Rukia turned back in her seat and retook her previous position hunched over the sheet of paper now covered in drawings…She didn't even get a chance to put the pen back against the surface before the whole sheet was rudely snatched out from under her nose.

Gaping incredulously at his daring, she straightened up to look at the orange-haired man who was now standing beside her table.

"What the hell?" After the day she'd had yesterday, Rukia was in the perfect mood to snap at the smallest of provocations…And this idiot was giving her the perfect setting.

The man was holding the paper up to his face, his eyebrows scrunching down further and his eyes narrowing as he nearly went cross-eyed inspecting the piece of paper almost against his nose.

Taking advantage of his apparent concentration, Rukia sat up as much as the table allowed her and reached up to seize the sheet of paper from his unsuspecting hands. But the man was quick to notice her attempt, and had pulled the paper out of her reach before she'd even touched it. Before Rukia could utter any of the angry words bubbling on the tip of her tongue, he looked at her and asked,

"What the hell is this shit?" referring to the paper, which he held at a distance, her drawings facing them both.

"That is a work of art done by yours truly, and it is most certainly not shit!" The last part came out a little louder than was considered appropriate, but at the moment, she didn't care. Rukia had been dynamite waiting to be set off for the past twelve hours or so, and this man was seriously setting her off.

The man scoffed. "It looks like shit to me." he said casually. "And who the hell draws koalas anyway?"

Rukia's mouth fell open. "They're RABBITS! Not koalas, you fool!"

The man looked between her and the paper then, "Don't see the difference."

Rukia could have yelled out a thousand different insults at him, but feeling the eyes of the other customers on her and deciding she'd given enough of a show for a day, she swalloed down every last hostile word and sank back into her seat with her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest and her eyes diverted to glare at some unfortunate spot on the wall.

"Is there any particular reason why you're pestering me or can you go away and leave me alone now?" she asked in as unfriendly a tone as she could muster without fully snapping.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man's face get a blank look for a split second before, "Oh yeah!" he said, as if just remembering. "My boss told me to tell you to order something or you have to leave." he informed her in an uncaring voice.

It was only then that Rukia noticed the dark green apron tied over a button-up white shirt and black pants -a uniform-. Narrowing her eyes, she even saw the small rectangle pinned on his apron that read 'Uryu Ishida', presumably, the man's name. So he worked there. She wondered if sweet Orihime knew this rude idiot.

Rukia wanted to tell him to tell his boss to shove it, but seeing no point in further banter, she let out an annoyed huff and said, "Whatever, bring me a coffee."

At this, the man, Uryu Ishida, by the looks of his nametag -Rukia made a mental note that the name did not suit the orange-haired man- raised an equally orange eyebrow. "Sorry princess, I'm no waiter." he pointed at the area where the cash register was, a small sign she hadn't paid attention to before hung over-head, reading 'ORDER HERE'.

Overly exasperated, Rukia let out a groan and wordlessly slid out of her book, starting to head over to order; but not before snatching her drawings back from the now-unsuspecting man. He showed only a moment of surprise at that but then just followed after her, going on around the counter to stand behind the cash register as Rukia waited with her arms folded over her chest in annoyance.

"So, light or dark?" he asked, his eyes focusing on the register as he pressed some buttons.

"Eh?" she asked, caught off guard by the question.

"The coffee."

"Oh, light."

He scoffed at that; it was very low and short, but Rukia noticed.

"What?" she demanded, narrowing her violet eyes at him.

"Nothing." he replied quickly. "…Princess."

Rukia silently seethed at the mocking title.

"Dark." she hissed, making him pause in the process of whatever numbers he was punching.

"Sure about that?" he asked, the mocking edge subdued but evident in his voice and his features.

"Yes."

"Coming right up." he said quickly in a neutral tone before turning to the machine behind him and setting to work on whatever he had to do to get her coffee.

Rukia leaned against the glass display, stubbornly looking away as she waited.

"That'll be $5.50." The man informed, pushing the freshly prepared Styrofoam cup of dark coffee towards her, the slight twitch of the corner of his mouth letting her know he was trying to suppress a grin.

Grumbling about the rip-off, Rukia reluctantly paid the man that looked far-too-victorious for her liking.

"Thanks, Uryu." Rukia said through clenched teeth, the lack of gratitude in her words obvious. She took the coffee and turned to leave without noticing the confused look that twisted the man's face for a moment before he looked down at his nametag and then back up.

"My name's not Uryu." he called after her, his distaste for the name plain.

Rukia quirked an eyebrow at this, turning back to look at the man, sending a pointed look to his nametag before meeting his eyes again as if to say 'Then what the hell is that on your nametag, dumbass?'

"I'm borrowing this apron." he explained, tugging at the green straps that went around his neck uncomfortably. Now Rukia could notice that it did look a bit small for his broad shoulders.

Broad shoulders? What the hell? More like…large…pudgy…shoulders. Yeah… She corrected herself mentally for having made the mistake of attributing this irritating man any remotely attractive qualities.

Quickly recomposing herself, Rukia eyed him. "Too careless to bring your own clothes?" she remarked casually.

The once-again nameless orange-head flashed her a look of irritation at her implication. "Hardly."

Rukia was just opening her mouth to comment further on her views of him as an irresponsible buffoon, but was interrupted when the sound of chiming bells announced someone's arrival. Both she and the guy automatically averted their eyes to see who the newcomer was.

Rukia's face immediately smoothed into an expression of relief and a smile.

"Orihime." It wasn't Rukia who called the busty girl's name, though she'd been about to.

She looked back to see Ichigo was staring at the girl. "You're back here already?" he questioned.

Rukia frowned, quite distinctly remembering Orihime say she worked at the coffee shop and her shift ended at noon. The better question was, why hadn't she already been there?

Orihime didn't seem to find his question odd, though. "Oh, yeah! Uryu didn't know I was supposed to meet Rukia here after my shift, so I had to leave early to come here to-"

"Oh, well. Okay, then." Ichigo said before Orihime had a chance to launch into a full explanation. Rukia looked at him and saw, beyond the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched on his face, a bit of…disappointment?

Looking back at Orihime, she saw that the girl had abruptly stopped talking, her brown eyes locked on the orange-haired man, her cheeks being tainted with a rosy color that hadn't been there when she first walked in. "I was rambling again, wasn't I? Oh, I'm so sorry! You know I tend to do that a lot, Tatsuki tells me so all the time. And I don't even notice when I start, I just suddenly open my mouth and then I keep talking and talking and-"

"Orihime," this time, it was Rukia who cut the girl off, deciding to make her presence known, seeing as it seemed Orihime hadn't taken her eyes off of the scowling guy since getting there.

The girl's brown eyes immediately flew to Rukia and her face eased into a bright smile. "Ah, Rukia! I see you're a bit early! I was afraid you might get lost on your way here, so I was about to call you. But I see you made it okay!" the girl chirped in a cheerful mood that seemed to be as perennial for her as the orange-haired guy's scowl. "Have you been waiting long?" she asked.

About an hour, bit more. "Not long." Rukia said, being rewarded by another smile from the girl.

"Ah, good! I see you've met Ichigo." she said, now looking back and forth between the petite girl and the tall man, her gaze settling on the guy after a moment.

It took Rukia a second to realize she was referring to the annoying employee. "Oh, him…" the sour way in which she said 'him' would have been indicator enough to anyone. But apparently, Orihime wasn't anyone.

"So did you guys have a nice chat?" she asked obliviously.

"Charming." Rukia said flatly, feeling the guy's eyes narrowing on her head, but refusing to acknowledge him.

"Nice to meet you too, princess."

Her eyes inevitably snapped to glare at him for the 'nickname'.

A smirk appeared on his face for an instant before he straightened and looked back at Orihime. He undid the tie behind his back of the green apron then brought it over his head and stretched his hand towards Orihime, offering the apron. Rukia felt disbelief of his gall to just assume Orihime would take his apron like a servant in waiting.

"Here, give it back to Uryu when you see him."

Orihime nodded, keeping her gaze focused on the apron and not lifting it to look at the man when he looked at her; something Rukia didn't miss.

"And tell him next time he wants to play hooky, he can go crying to someone else. This is the last time I'm covering for that bastard." The guy said, grumbling something about hating the morning shift afterwards.

Orihime nodded furiously and readily said, "I'll tell him, Ichigo! I'll make sure he gets it too." she added the last bit with a serious expression and a conspiring wink, along with a not-so-low hush.

Rukia raised her eyebrows as the silly behavior went unnoticed by him, and she figured that this was more than usual for Orihime, so he was used to it by now.

"…Right, so…" Rukia muttered tentatively as an awkward silence began to settle over the three.

"Oh! Right! Rukia, we're going to go to town now!" Orihime announced, looking like she was remembering as she spoke.

"Right." Rukia agreed.

"Well, then, we'd better go! Don't want to wait til it's too dark when the goblins come out!" Orihime giggled nervously as she grabbed Rukia's wrist and began to drag her out of the store at the same time as she waved to the orange-haired man.

The last glimpse Rukia caught of him before the door closed behind her was of him hesitantly waving back.

What an odd set of people. She thought silently to herself as, once out in the sidewalk, Orihime let go of her wrist and stopped long enough for Rukia to lift the Styrofoam cup to her lips and take a sip of the contents.

Which she promptly spat out onto the sidewalk, coughing and wiping her mouth to try to get rid of the bitter taste.

I hate dark coffee!

Still inside the Urahara Coffee Shop, an orange-haired man watched the whole thing, right up to the point were the short girl threw away the barely touched contents of her cup.

Ichigo felt himself smirk, inexplicably enjoying the sight. He shook his head as his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on the raven-haired girl, now conversing casually -mutely words to him- with Orihime.

Strange little midget.


A/N: Early update! I didn't plan that, so don't get used to it. I'll try to keep updates frequent but an update THIS soon is rare for me (just a fair warning).

Anyways, I didn't actually get to the part I wanted to in this chap, but it was already 11 pages and if I took it as far as I'd planned it would have been way too long for an early chap (in the future, I do expect to make longer chapters, but I'm taking it slow for now. Easing into it, u know?) BUT I did get Rukia and Ichigo to meet, hehe. Don't worry, I know I haven't introduced the 'exchanging anonymous letters' plot part yet, but relax. Next chapter I'll have that and a look into some more Ichigo POV and stuff.

So, let me know what you think so far :) Reviews encourage me to write more and write better, so inspire me! (no, I am not above bribing with updates for reviews xD) Hopefully, next chapter will take one or two weeks to get here. Hope to see you then ^.^