Hey, guys! Sorry that this has been so long in coming!

I've just been so busy after just starting college that it's impossible for me to have a set update schedule, you know? I mean...ugh. It's just annoying. I've had so much work, just over the past week. THREE EXAMS! This is what I get. Blegh.

Anyhow, a little about this chapter...uh. It gave me a heck of a time when I was writing it! LOL! It really just deals with character interaction between our two boys, so it wasn't too...EXCITING! to write. I hope you guys understand.

Next chapter, we'll see more of a plot emerge. 3 For right now, I just want to give a basis for their relationship.

Thanks for all the favs and adds for my last chapter! I hope I don't disappoint you guys! I'll keep workin' on this, I promise!

Even in the most sweltering heat, warmth was never something that he felt. Toshiro sometimes found himself thinking that he had become so in-tune with his zanpaku-to that his very blood was actually frigid water. He knew that wasn't the case, but his body temperature was commonly two or three degrees less than the norm.

The tenth-division captain was lying on Ichigo Kurosaki's bed, curled onto his side with a heavy comforter surrounding him on all sides. Here, he felt warm. "Safe" wasn't exactly what he was feeling, but his mind was at ease.

Oh, what in the world was he doing here?

Last night remained somewhat of a blur, but Toshiro's brain – still half-asleep – was content to replay the events that had transpired.

Once they were into his apartment, Kurosaki had insisted on Toshiro staying, which the frosty captain wasn't in the mood to argue. However, the substitute had also suggested that Toshiro stay in his bed. Why?, he had asked. Ichigo had simply laughed, grabbed some blankets for himself (he planned to sleep on the futon in the living room) and said that that made the most sense. Toshiro wasn't so sure.

He tried to feel angry, but he was too relaxed. Instead, he shifted underneath the warmth of the blanket so that he could stare at the ceiling fan. Round and round, round and round. The cool air on his face was reassuring and normal. Somehow, it helped to make everything seem more real.

Then, a rap at the door.

"Yo, Toshiro! You up?"

A familiar flash of irritation stirred. All in a second, Toshiro was sitting up, the ever-present scowl set back on his face.

"It's Captain Hitsugaya to you, Kurosaki! Just because I'm staying in your house doesn't mean that anything's changed."

Ichigo laughed from behind the separating wall. "I thought you were awake."

The door creaked open to reveal the bright-eyed, flame-haired substitute soul reaper. Toshiro sighed. He wished he could say something about Ichigo's rudeness at having not knocked, but he realized that the strawberry had knocked. Idiot.

"What do you want?"

"Come on now, there's no need to be so hostile. I made breakfast."

"And this excuses your waking me up…how?"

Ichigo frowned a bit, but didn't seem too phased. Toshiro was a little disappointed in this.

"I know for a fact that I didn't wake you up. You keep a tight hold on your spiritual pressure when you sleep, but – as soon as you woke up – I could feel it, just a little bit. I think it was because you're relaxed." Ichigo smirked. "There's really no mistaking your presence."

"Whatever."

The smaller man swung his legs out from under the covers and reluctantly stood up. His eyes were still foggy from sleep and his movements were just the slightest bit unsure, but he managed to squeeze himself between his belligerent host and the doorframe in pursuit of the kitchen. They had come through there last night…right?

"You're goin' the wrong way. Kitchen's this way."

"I knew that."

The kitchen was bright and open, but that was probably because of its meager size in combination with the lack of furniture. Now that he looked more closely, there was only one window, and taking into account that it was currently facing the rising sun meant more light. Later, when it was darker, the room would look leagues smaller.

Toshiro took all of this in as he sat down to the one place setting at the tiny, Formica-top table. He stared at his plate, then to the empty seats and – respectively – empty place settings.

"You're not eating?"

"I get up early," Ichigo replied as he walked over to the sink and the awaiting dishes. "I already ate this morning."

"Ah."

The tenth-division captain glared down at his plate of eggs. He prodded at them and watched as the yolks jiggled happily. Really, that was a little unnatural.

Back in the Soul Society, it was common for high-ranking officers – especially the captains – to be able to order whatever they wanted. The members of the squad would take care of them with no questions asked, and the captains would sit down to their meals without even knowing who prepared them. Now, as he sat at Ichigo's table, glaring at his yellowed reflection in the center of a cooked egg, he realized the strangeness of it.

The taste wasn't too bad. Kurosaki was no chef, but he wasn't an idiot, either. Well…at least not all of the time.

"Didja like 'em?"

His plate was swept away from right before his eyes as Ichigo ran back over to the sink to wash it. He was smiling.

"Yes…thank you."

"Don't mention it." Then, after a moment: "Well, what're you waiting for? Go on and dressed already!"

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" Ichigo half-chuckled. "We're going out today. Orihime invited all of us – you, me, Chad, Uryu and even Rukia – to meet at this new café in town. She just got a job there, so she can get us a discount."

Toshiro could feel his jaw drop and his brow begin to twitch in agitation.

"I'm not here so that you can drag me every---"

"Listen." Ichigo sighed. He leaned up against the counter and held the dishtowel almost lovingly in his hands. "You need to get your mind off of all your responsibilities, you hear me? You're gonna kill yourself. Here, in the world of the living, you don't have anything to worry about. Well, minus the occasional Hollow, but we can take care of that together."

Ichigo tried to lighten up a bit before he continued on.

"You said earlier that things haven't changed, but they have. Here, you don't need to worry about being a captain, or any of that silly stuff. That means that you can enjoy normal things like a chat at a café table or a nice bubble tea—"

"I don't even know what bubble tea i—"

"Toshiro, just drop it! You're coming whether you want to or not, and that's that. You might as well go into it with a better attitude."

The captain's temper flared. He could feel the water molecules in the air beginning to condense and freeze as the air around him crackled angrily.

"I am not a child, and I'm not about to take orders from you, Kurosaki!"

The door to Toshiro's room closed with a resounding slam before Ichigo even had time to retort. He was a captain! A captain! And Kurosaki had the nerve to talk down to him and tell him what he should be doing! Toshiro fumed as he sat back down on his unmade bed.

"Toshiro-"

"Leave me alone."

Toshiro shuddered. He had released a little too much energy; his body was beginning to feel physically cold, which was never a good thing. The child-size man sat down on the bed and curled his arms around his sides.

"Listen, I'm sorr-"

"Drop it. Drop it, please."

"Are you okay?"

The tenth-division captain stared at the door that was separating him from his host in disbelief. He didn't exactly have a smart reply for that.

"I'm coming in, okay?"

He didn't bother to respond. Ichigo was already in the room, making his way over to the far side of the bed where he plopped down without any kind of grace. How could this man move so swiftly, so smoothly, when he was so…unrefined?

Toshiro looked away, curled his knees up to his chest and buried his face between his knees. He felt sick. He felt angry. He felt bitter.

He felt cold.

"Talk to me, Toshiro."

No, he didn't want to talk. Kurosaki was invading his space. His room. Hadn't he told him to go away? …no. No, he had just told Ichigo to leave him alone.

Was that the same thing?

"I'm fine."

"Just calm down." Ichigo reached out and placed a hand on Toshiro's shoulder. At first, his host's hand was absolutely scalding. It burned! But – as he moved to get away – he realized that he was getting…warmer.

The captain turned to him in shock. Ichigo didn't seem to notice; his overwhelming spiritual pressure just flowed out like water out of a collapsed dam. Despite himself, Toshiro shuddered.

"Come on. Just come. If you hate it, we can leave."

Toshiro looked away again as he grimaced. He shook off Ichigo's hand and stood up, his tiny shoulders set in determination.

"Just this one time, Kurosaki. Just this once."