His father's electronically-enhanced screeching dies as Ichigo snaps his cell phone closed on the conversation. As if he needs another lecture about keeping his grades up and studying hard right after his first class of the day. As if Isshin would know the first thing about working hard. Ichigo never understood how a lunatic like his dad ever managed to become a doctor, much less run a private clinic. He suspects his mother had a hand in keeping the family together. Too bad she died before her children were old enough to move out and get away from her overbearing husband.
Thinking of moving out reminds Ichigo that he has to pay rent today. He digs out a pen to write it on his wrist as a reminder, failing to watch where he's going and avoid running into someone in the hall. They briefly collide with a warm body-check that miraculously doesn't send books and pencils flying in every direction. Ichigo automatically reaches his hands out to steady the other person before either of them falls.
"Ah, shit, sorry." Ichigo takes a step back and glances up to see who it is. When he does, he is momentarily stunned. "Ishida!"
"In too much of a rush to look where you're walking, Kurosaki?"
"You know this boy, Uryuu?"
"Hardly."
Ichigo eyes the two of them closely. Older, pissier, and bearing white hair instead of black, the man beside Ishida looks strikingly similar to him. It's obvious at once that this must be his father. He can't help asking to confirm, though.
"Is this your dad?"
"No, he's a random stranger who happens to resemble me."
"Ha-ha," Ichigo rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. He's already wondering why he didn't just shrug it off and walk away, since Ishida seems to be incapable of friendliness. "What's he doing on campus?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business, child," the irritated man cuts Ishida off. "What have I told you about associating with riff-raff, Uryuu? These miscreants will mean nothing but trouble for your academic career."
"You don't know the first thing about me, man," he defends himself, brow pulling into a deeper scowl.
"Ripped jeans, atrociously brightly-colored clothing, hair that hasn't seen a comb in weeks…even scribbling notes on yourself like a grade-schooler? I see no redeemable qualities to speak of."
"Yeah? At least I don't go around with my nose in the air judging people at first glance!"
"And so quick to anger," he tuts, narrowing his eyes at Ichigo. "This is what I mean, Uryuu. You can't trust these feral types. How many fist-fights have you been in, I wonder?"
"That's enough, Ryuuken," Ishida surprises them both by gritting. "True prudence lies not with categorization but with caution. If you took a moment to consider this 'child' you would know that his grades are excellent, despite working a part-time job. His friends adore him and, while it's accurate to say his attitude is generally mercurial, at least he's up-front about it. I can think of at least one person here whose fondness for cloak-and-dagger nearly ruined his career."
"Disrespectful and short-sighted as ever." The man turns his body towards his son as his focus shifts back to him. For his part, Ichigo's annoyance wanes as he watches Ishida attack someone else with those sharp words for once. "Why did I expect better?"
"The real question is: why did you think I would give a damn about your expectations?" Ichigo's eyebrows rise with shock as Ryuuken's lower in anger. "Come on, Kurosaki. How about ramen for lunch today?"
Without waiting for a response, Ishida grabs his arm and drags him away from his fuming father. He goes willingly enough, if only for the chance to ask what the hell that was about. Ishida drops his hold and keeps walking, eyes forward and shoulders tense. By the time they get to the student union food court, Ichigo is lost in thought about this enigmatic man. Rukia told him a bit about Ishida's family situation but even Loudmouth has boundaries. She refused to say more than that it's more or less just Ishida and his father now, and that they rarely get along. What she definitely didn't convey is how much they apparently hate each other.
"I guess it would be pointless to ask you to pretend none of that ever happened," Ishida finally speaks as they step in line to order at one of the small restaurants.
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Then let me save us some time by anticipating your questions. My father and I haven't seen eye-to-eye since I was six and it's unlikely to ever change. Call it…a fundamental difference in values. He showed up today to check up on my progress because I refuse to answer his calls on the best of days and he still believes he has a hand in my upbringing. Despite declining to financially-assist me further." Ishida turns to address the clerk and place his order, waiting for Ichigo to do the same before continuing. "While I realize lashing out and using petty rebellion to communicate my disdain for him is immature, the alternative requires an emotional grace I evidently lack as of yet. So, I want to make it clear, Kurosaki, that I invited you to lunch only to spite him and not out of some latent desire for your company."
"I see…" he says, though he really doesn't. Sometimes Ishida talks way too fast. "Is he always like that?"
"Like what? Haughty and dismissive? Yes."
"That sucks." Ishida shoots him a glare and Ichigo shrugs. "Better an elusive dick than a perpetual nag, right? My pops calls me three times a day just to gripe and threaten. I guess he means well but…I'd almost rather he didn't give a shit, y'know?"
"I don't know if I'd say that's worse, though it sounds highly unpleasant. What about your mother?"
Their orders are called then, giving Ichigo time to consider his answer as they retrieve their trays and find seating. Ishida perches on the barstool across from him and organizes the contents of his meal with practiced motions. Ichigo rips the paper from his chopsticks and carelessly flips the lid on his carton.
"She, uh, isn't in the picture anymore. Rukia told me yours isn't, either."
"No," he agrees with a frown. "Though it wasn't her place to say."
"Hey, I've been wondering about that. How is it that someone like you wanted to move in with someone like Rukia?"
"What do you mean?" he asks with a warning arch to one eyebrow.
"Well, she's kind of…all over the place. A little nuts, impulsive, and way too energetic. Although that's kind of what's great about her. You, as far as I can tell, are nothing like her. So is it like 'opposites attract'?"
"Rukia and I are just friends," Ishida blurts with widened eyes. The bite of food he was about to take plops back into his bowl. "We're roommates, nothing more."
"I know that. I mean 'attraction' in a friend sense."
"We get along fine, Kurosaki."
"When she isn't blabbing all about you to old friends?"
"Yes—No! I mean," he sighs, pausing to sip at his water. "She's never done that before, to my knowledge."
Ichigo nods, falling silent for a few moments as he digs into his noodle dish. He can tell Ishida is upset about something. Whether it's because of his father's visit or maybe classes, he doesn't seem at ease today. Surprisingly, Ichigo finds himself wanting to improve his mood, in spite of not knowing the man very well at all.
Truthfully, he didn't like Ishida when they first met last week. Even after calling a truce and deciding to do his best to be civil Ichigo never thought of him as someone he'd really want to befriend. Yet, something about Ishida stuck in his mind. Ichigo has thought about him almost every day since then. Wondering what he's doing or what he would think about certain things. He found himself wanting to visit Rukia while secretly hoping Ishida would be there, too. Part of it is because Ishida is really hot in that subtle, nerdy kind of way that you don't notice at first. Once you do, though, you can't stop staring.
On that thought, Ichigo realizes he is staring, but it's okay because Ishida is staring back.
He is reminded of that moment in the library. Ichigo was annoyed at having to tell off the librarian when he was going to leave soon anyway, and then some guy was scowling at him a few seats down the table. He wanted to tell him off as well but he got distracted. The way Ishida's hair had fallen so sleek and stark against his skin was the first indication. Next was the deliberate flex of his slim fingers to adjust his book. Finally, Ishida had cut his pretty blue eyes at Ichigo in a subtle glare and curled his full mouth into a petulant shape that really should've pissed him off. But by then he was already imagining them sneaking deep into the stacks and expressing their irritation through more amorous actions.
"Hey, Ishida," he abruptly starts before he can think twice about what he's doing. "When is your next class?"
"A little less than an hour. Why?"
"Hurry up and eat. I want to show you something."
"What? No. I have better things to do than—"
"It'll cheer you up."
"Who said I needed cheering?"
"Your face. Now shut up and eat already," Ichigo commands around a mouthful. "Or I'll follow you to class and disrupt everyone."
"Don't you have a life, Kurosaki?" he swallows a bite to counter. "Something to do besides bothering people?"
"Nope."
Sighing again, Ishida visibly resigns himself to Ichigo's whim and eats a fraction faster. They soon finish with only a few more comments to each other before packing up their trash and heading out. Ichigo leads him a few buildings over, checking every now and then to make sure Ishida doesn't give him the slip. He follows all the way into the basement of the performing arts center before breaking the silence with a question, quiet-yet-loud the empty halls around them.
"If you're planning on murdering me down here, I should probably warn you: I may look like a pushover but I'm strong enough to take you, Kurosaki."
It's spoken so dryly that Ichigo isn't sure it's sarcasm. He laughs a little nervously and tries to look innocent as he says, "Nah. If I was gonna kill you, I would do it somewhere I could get rid of your body."
As soon as he says it, Ichigo regrets it. A little zing of panic prompts him to glance over at Ishida for his reaction to something that accidentally sounded far too sinister. He almost melts into a puddle with relief at the tiny smirk Ishida quickly smothers. Although he's not sure why it's so important that Ishida not think he's secretly a serial killer, he doesn't have time to ponder it as they arrive at the pair of wide doors leading to the rehearsal room.
"Ichigooooo~" hails an overzealous cry from all the way across the spacious room. "Hey, guys, it's Ichigo!"
"Hey, Keigo."
His childhood friends Mizuiro, Keigo, and Chad jump off the low stage and come over to greet them. Ichigo makes introductions, addressing Ishida as his 'friend' even though they're still practically strangers. They take turns bowing and exchanging the usual phrases. Then Keigo immediately launches into an excited run-through of their production.
"It's a comedy skit, yeah? I'm making pure gold with every punch line, Sado is playing the 'straight man' like he was born to it, Ichigo's contributions to our joke arsenal are rockin', and with Mizuiro directing we're gonna smash the box office!"
"It's an independent project," Mizuiro adds at Ishida's curious expression. "For a grade and everything, but if it goes over well with the professor we'll play the main stage and even make a profit!"
"I've never seen a comedy show on the events calendar before," Ishida thoughtfully comments.
"There never has been," Chad supplies. "It's new."
"So you guys wanna show us what ya got?" suggests Ichigo, looking at Ishida and wondering if he's the kind of person to appreciate the lame puns he helped the guys write. "We can't stay for long, but I wanted to see how it's going so far."
"You bet!" shouts Keigo, who drags the trio back towards the stage. "You two just sit front and center and we'll start from the top!"
Shaking his head and grinning, Ichigo guides Ishida to the third row back, two behind Mizuiro in the very first row. They watch Chad play stoic and vaguely confused while Keigo lauds him with just enough absurdity. Only Keigo would have the energy to traipse around the stage like a nut. Years spent being the class clown have suited him well for this part. Though Chad is basically playing himself, he looks good on stage, a calm counterpoint to Keigo's frantic motions. Mizuiro mostly stays quiet, occasionally offering direction when necessary.
They both applaud between short acts and Ishida listens attentively throughout. Yet, Ichigo begins to worry when he doesn't hear any laughter joining his own. He turns towards him, expecting boredom or disdain, but he's pleased to see a muted smile playing about Ishida's mouth. His eyes are bright with amusement and interest. Caught, the man straightens the smile out into a neutral line and half-heartedly snarks.
"You wrote these ridiculous jokes, Kurosaki? Good thing you didn't go into comedy as a career."
"Shut up, Ishida," he fires back with a wicked grin. "You know you like it. It's okay to laugh. I won't tell anyone you have a sense of humor. Who'd believe me anyway?"
Opening his mouth to respond, Ishida hesitates. Slowly, that reluctant smirk appears again and Ichigo laughs as Ishida looks away in embarrassment. They both know he lost that one. It doesn't take long for him to recover.
"At least I know when to stick to my talents."
"Yeah, your wit is best used as verbal cannon fodder. The way you schooled your own dad…"
"Who do you think I learned it from?"
"Shhh," Mizuiro whips around to chastise them with a fake glare. "Did you come to see the show or flirt with each other?"
That shuts both of them right up. Ichigo doesn't even have it in him to correct Mizuiro; there's no way they'd be flirting since they barely get along. But the dizzy happiness swirling in the back of Ichigo's head tells him otherwise. Without turning his head, he peeks at Ishida from the corner of his eye and notices a reddish tint to the tops of his cheeks. It's cute. Ichigo bites his lip against the thought.
"Shit," Ishida hisses then, eyes widening at the time on his phone. He swiftly stands and heads for the narrow aisle. "I'm going to be late for class."
"Wait, Ishida!"
"What is it, Kurosaki?" he pauses at the end of the row to glance back at him, adjusting his slipping glasses. "I have to go now or—"
"Did I…are you cheered up now? After seeing your dad?"
Blinking, Ishida thinks about that for a moment. He appraises Ichigo with unnerving concentration, making him feel like he's being mentally dissected. Probably searching for ulterior motives or a hidden insult, if Rukia's insight into Ishida's personality is reliable. The set of his shoulders relaxes after a few seconds and Ishida takes a long breath.
"Yes, I believe I am. Tell your friends I'm looking forward to opening night."
"I will," Ichigo smiles warmly. "See you later, Ishida."
He nods once before striding out of the auditorium. Ichigo can imagine what he's probably thinking. See me later, Kurosaki? Hopefully not. It doesn't matter. Now that he knows Ishida isn't all ice and venom, there'll be no getting rid of him. Ishida is just too intriguing to pass up. When the man disappears through the doors, Ichigo turns back around. All three of his friends are staring at him. He scowls at their knowing looks.
"You got a new sweetheart, Ichigo?" Keigo croons in an ear-piercing falsetto that makes him grit his teeth on instinct. "Gonna take him on a real date some day?"
"He is a looker," Mizuiro disinterestedly adds while scrolling through his phone.
"Mn," Chad confirms.
"No! I just met him a week ago. Who asked you guys?"
"You just bring all your new friends to see our super-secret show rehearsals?" teases Keigo, jumping down from the stage to be more obnoxious from a shorter distance.
"He was having a bad day. I just—"
"Awww, our Ichigo is such a bleeding heart," Mizuiro lowers his phone to cajole. "Right, Sado?"
"I think he likes you."
"How the hell would you know that, Chad?" He answers with a light shrug and Ichigo resists the urge to scowl. "I don't know anything about him."
"So, get to know him."
"I don't need you guys to tell me that!"
AN: These first couple of chapters are kind of slow, but things start heating up in the next one. Get ready for some UST!