Ichigo let out a weary sigh as he finished sneaking quietly up to his room.

Luckily for him, his shift at the Urahara Shop ended at eleven, and in the time it took him to close up and drive back all the way back to his house, it was nearly midnight by the time he got back. Which meant everyone was asleep and he could climb up to his room without fear of being intercepted by his insane father.

Without bothering to switch on the light in his room, Ichigo dropped his car keys on the desk and tiredly let himself fall into bed.

Today's shift had been exhausting. The first two hours had been as mundane and boring as ever…But then Rukia had shown up. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from a random customer bickering with him, to a job applicant, to an employee. To his utter dismay.

When Tatsuki quit, it was bad. He was left doing all the work by himself, and that cheap-ass Urahara didn't even bother giving him a slight raise. Now that Rukia was working with him, he'd figured, if anything, he'd have a hand to help him work the shift.

If tonight was any indicator…He was wrong. It turned out Rukia was a stubborn, annoying, refuses-to-do-as-she-is-told, ignorant midget; more than he'd originally thought anyway. Being her first night working there, Ichigo told her to clean the tables (he didn't even make her sweep the floors!), and she wouldn't do it until after spending almost ten minutes arguing with him as to why she should be the one cleaning. He had tried to rationally explain that she still hadn't been taught how to work the cash register or the coffee machines, so until then, she would have to stick to the basics.

Anyone could understand that, right?

Wrong.

Rukia Kuchiki was just a class all her own. She just couldn't get it through her head, and continued to insist and grumble angrily that she should not be cleaning tables -even after she'd grudgingly gone to do it-.

And then there was the time when she made her way back to the counter were he was working, looking dramatically exhausted and wiping imaginary sweat off her brow -to which he only reacted by rolling his eyes- and then she placed the dirty cleaning rag on the counter and announced she was finished. Ichigo had, of course, looked at her dubiously before looking back up to confirm her words. He wasn't surprised at all when he immediately jerked his thumb in the direction of a recently vacated table covered in used napkins and empty Styrofoam cups people were too lazy to throw in the garbage themselves.

"That doesn't look finished to me." he had said before tossing the rag back to her and making a shooing motion to get her to go and do her job.

She had gaped incredulously and said, "But I already cleaned that one!"

Ichigo had graciously explained that while yes, she had indeed cleaned it, it was now dirty again and needed her services once again. The look she had shot him was venomous.

That was a basic summary of the night; Ichigo telling Rukia everything she had to do and having to listen to her complain and refuse for endless minutes, and having to convince her otherwise. He was like a damned supervisor with the salary of a janitor. Ichigo dropped his hand on top of his face and groaned as he slid it downwards, making his skin stretch comically in the process. To think he had to put up with this until the end of the summer. The thought made his head ache.

Think of law school; think of law school. He repeated the old chant that had convinced him to take the job at Urahara's for the summer in the first place.

Ichigo was a pre-law student at the Karakura University; he would start his fourth year this September. Next year, he was going to law school…Or so he hoped. His grades weren't a problem; he had some of the highest in almost all of his classes and would no doubt be accepted with open arms into law school. The only problem was tuition.

Even with a partial scholarship helping him, law school was still going to be one heavy blow to his Dad's wallet. It wasn't like he and his family were poor, they were actually pretty well off; his Dad was the only steady income, but the clinic he owned was doing rather well (mostly thanks to the ridiculous crime rates of Karakura town) and no one was ever lacking in his house. But with Ichigo's college, not to mention his two younger sisters going to start college that same year as well…Law school was a bit much.

But Ichigo knew what he wanted, and hell, he wanted it. And once Ichigo Kurosaki had his mind set on something, nothing could stop him. Not money, not violence, and certainly not an annoying midget coworker. His determination to go to law school and be able to afford it were what pushed him to get a summer job at Urahara's (on top of many part-time jobs he worked through his last three years of college); and they were now what were going to help him survive the next three months of working with Rukia Kuchiki.

If he was lucky, maybe she'd quit before then.

Ichigo almost grinned at that before realizing that he probably wouldn't be so lucky. He turned over in his bed and heard a weird crinkling sound coming from…the back pocket of his jeans?

A moment of confusion passed and was replaced by realization as Ichigo jerked up and, remembering what he had been about to do before Rukia had shown up, pulled out the square envelope -slightly crumpled now- and looked at it.

Ichigo reached with his hand to the lamp sitting on top of the desk beside his bed and pulled the small dangling chain that would turn the light on. By the dim lamp light, he focused on the still unopened envelope addressed to 'Black Romeo'.

What the hell, he thought. In one swift motion, he ripped open the envelope and extracted the folded up paper inside.

He stared at its contents for a moment without really reading them; it wasn't a long message. Not much longer than his own had been anyhow. Then he started reading.

Black Romeo:

You seem like quite the charmer. I bet your enchanting qualities make you quite the magnet for the female population. I will take the liberty to assume that you did not write that letter out of the desire to find your soul mate as much as having been forced to do it.

So why am I writing back to you? The hell if I know. I guess out of the hundreds of letters here yours was the only one that wasn't leaking with a desperate hope to loose your virginity.

I suppose I don't have anything else to say to you. I don't expect a reply for this. It was a pleasure to meet you, figuratively. Have a nice life.

-White Juliet

By the time Ichigo was done, his eyesight was sore due to the cursed pink ink used to write the letter. However, the girly color was misleading, to say the least, when compared to the actual message.

He'd already figured that this chick would have to be…odd to have replied to his openly rude and insulting letter; but he hadn't expected her to have actually responded quite like that either. He didn't know what he'd expected, actually…It just wasn't that.

This girl, who wittily called herself 'White Juliet' in response to his own alias, had responded in a letter that, unlike his own, had not been blatantly rude and sarcastic. Though yes, there was sarcasm -plenty of it, actually- in her letter, it was laced artfully through a polite and almost cold blanket that served to mask something else…Something Ichigo recognized because he himself had experienced it.

Absolute indifference.

Whoever that girl was, she was as interested in finding her destined soul mate as he was. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the most likely circumstances were that she had, like him, been dragged unwillingly by annoying friends who would be better off getting a life of their own and forced to write a letter for them to get off her back. Or something along that context.

Ichigo felt a slight bubbling of something inside him. It wasn't curiosity, exactly, but that was the closest thing there was for him to put a name to it, so he stuck with curiosity. When he'd written that letter after being harassed by Keigo to do so, the last thing he had ever expected was to read a reply.

For one thing, he hadn't planned -it hadn't even occurred to him- to actually go back to that dumb tree people were so infatuated with and check to see if his 'soul mate' had written back to him yet. For another, he'd been fully aware while writing the letter that no girl in her sane mind would bother writing to him while in their search for true love. And finally, even if he had expected a response, it would have been something along the lines of some insulted, ditzy chick complaining about why he had to be so rude and giving him a lecture on people's feelings and the power of love or something.

None of the above happened. And Ichigo had to admit, he was slightly intrigued by this girl. He continued to stare at the letter and scoffed loudly at the drawings at the bottom left.

There were pink scribbles that formed odd lines, connecting into the shape of what he thought was supposed to be…a rabit.

The mutant rabbit thing was sitting on top of a crudely drawn tree and had one paw stretched out and holding out a letter.

Ichigo looked the letter again and couldn't connect the voice of the girl speaking to the neon pink ink or the awful rabbit drawing. After a few moments, he set the letter down on his desk. Normally, he would now reach to turn off the lamp illuminating the room and fall back into his bed sheets and into blissful much-needed sleep. However, what he did was as unexpected as receiving the letter had been.

Getting up from his spot on the edge of the bed, Ichigo went to sit at the chair in front of his desk and reached into one of the drawers to extract a blank sheet of paper and a pen. Without being quite sure what his motives were, and not really caring, Ichigo started writing down.

White Juliet:…

-x-

Rukia groaned loudly when the sound of knocking brought her back from the land of sleep.

She didn't even crack open an eyelid when she called out "Coming!", before remembering that she wasn't in her house and that someone knocking on her door was not expected.

Jerking up in her bed, she automatically looked to the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table, and her eyes widened when she red the glowing red numbers. 2:37pm it read, and she had to rub her eyes, blink, and look again to make sure her eyes weren't betraying her. She never slept so late…

The sound of knocking came again and brought her out of her incredulous stupor.

"One minute!" she called out again, and rushed to the minuscule bathroom, grabbing the nearest clothing items lying limply on the back of a black chair on the way. She sped through a morning routine of brushing her teeth, splashing some water on her face and getting dressed before reentering the room as she awkwardly tried patting her sleep-ruffled hair back into place and going to open the motel room door.

When she did, she blinked at the sight that greeted her.

It was a man; he was fairly tall (even without counting in the fact of her own stature) and had semi-long wavy chestnut hair held back in a low ponytail. His face was set in a lazy smile with droopy brown eyes and had brown stubble growing along his jaw and over the corners of his mouth. He was wearing a casual attire of blue jeans and an unbuttoned pink -yes, pink- shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows; underneath which he wore a regular white wife beater that was low enough to reveal brown chest hair similar to the stubble around his chin and the exposed hair on his arms.

What really caught Rukia's attention about him, though, was the straw hat he wore.

Though he was probably not out of place in the motel, he still wasn't someone Rukia was expecting to see at her door.

"Um…May I help you?" she asked uncertainly, glancing from side to side to see if he had come with anyone else or if anyone was looking around for him and would direct him to the room he was looking for -which wasn't Rukia's-.

The man continued to smile down at her; his face was so utterly relaxed it was hard to picture him frowning -like it would be too much work for the muscles-. "I'm Shunsui Kyoraku." He introduced himself. "The owner of the Katen Kyokotsu."

Rukia's eyes widened in surprise and she scurried to say, "Oh! I'm Rukia Kuchiki, pleased to meet you, Sir." she spoke in as much of the polite tone she had learned through the years from her Brother, disguising her surprise at discovering this man was the owner of the place as much as she could.

"No need for such formalities, Miss Rukia!" he said, widening his smile until his eyes were squinted shut for a moment. "You're a guest at my home," he announced, referring to the run-down motel proudly. "Call me Shunsui."

Rukia smiled and chuckled awkwardly. "Kyoraku will be fine."

It seemed like he was about to argue when someone new appeared a step behind him to his left.

"Mister Kyoraku, you are not here to harass the guests." she said in a scolding voice.

Rukia looked to see a woman, slender and taller than she was (gee, another one…), wearing glasses and pinned up black hair. She recognized her as the receptionist of the motel.

"Ah, little Nanao! Why so formal? Aren't we friends?" Kyoraku pouted and complained almost childishly.

"No." The receptionist, Nanao, said curtly as she pushed her wire-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You are my boss, and I am your employee. Nothing more."

A dark aura fell over Kyoraku like a rain cloud. "My little Nanao is so cold." he muttered in fake tears.

Rukia blinked at their antics. She was loosing precious time where she could be finishing her unpacking for this. "Excuse me," she cut in tentatively, trying to remain polite. "Is there anything you wanted?"

At this, Kyoraku perked up and he was about to say something when Nanao beat him to the punch.

"Miss Kuchiki," she said, having known Rukia's name from having attended her on the day of her arrival and giving her the hey to her room. "As a guest of the Katen Kyokotsu Motel, you are cordially invited to this Saturday's dinner party that will be held in honor of Sir Yamamoto's birthday."

Rukia looked confusedly at the two people in front of her.

"All guests of the motel are invited, Miss Rukia." Kyoraku explained cheerfully. "We hope you can make it!" as he said 'we', he put an arm around Nanao's slim shoulders and pulled the woman against his side.

Nanao's face would have been comical if it hadn't made Rukia fear for the man's safety.

Rukia gave a hasty thank you and said she'd try to make it, then closed the door and retreated to her room; the sounds of Kyoraku whimpering in pain as he clutched the part of his head that, judging by the loud 'thwack' she'd heard, would have a large bump by now.

She shook her head slightly at the strange performance, then looked at her room, the Saturday dinner party invitation already in the back of her mind.

After a few seconds of deliberation and longing glances to the unmade, welcoming bed, she sighed and made her way to the open bags still half full of clothing and other items.

She still had at least three hours to finish unpacking.

-x-

Rukia shoved the last bite of her ham and cheese sandwich into her mouth and swallowed with a satisfied gulp before pushing open the glass door of the Urahara Coffee Shop.

That sandwich had been her only food since she'd woken up that afternoon (she could still hardly believe that she had been so wiped out last night that she actually slept through the morning), but she still felt a high sense of accomplishment because she had finally finished unpacking and settling into her motel room for the two months to come.

However, there were some disadvantages.

Once inside the coffee shop, Rukia gave a sneaking glance and, not seeing any sign of orange hair and an annoying scowl, she made her way to the cushioned seats at the very back of the place and flopped down into one of them.

She was exhausted; last night had been only two hours working in that overpriced shop, and she was already starting to think she was better off looking for a job at the slaughter house down the next street.

The previous night had been two hours of endless table cleaning that had left her back horrendously sore, plus the irritating voice and yelling of the bossy orange-haired freak that seemed to think that he was the owner of the place. After just two hours, Rukia had been ready to shove her filthy cleaning rag down Ichigo's throat.

After such a night, she shouldn't have been so surprised that she actually slept til almost three o' clock.

She heaved a sigh and lay her head on the table over her folded arms acting as a pillow. Without even thinking about it, Rukia let her eyelids shut and settled in for a little rest. That is until…

"Oi! This isn't nap time at a daycare center, midget."

That voice grated against her nerves and made her eyebrows scrunch down so much they almost met. Her mouth twitched.

"Hey! There's work to do, get the hell up!"

"Shut up! I don't need you telling me what to do." She snapped, straightening up to glare at the man who was really starting to make her question her decision to come to Karakura.

"Oh, really? Then what the hell are you still doing there?" he said, referring to the table meant for paying customers.

Ichigo could feel his scowl deepening dangerously and he had only spent less than a minute with the girl now.

Deciding that he better put a break on his nerves before he lost his job over the murder of a coworker, Ichigo took a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he took a calming breath.

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is and get to work." he started out reasoning and ground out the last part.

Rukia looked at him unbending, holding her ground. But finally, she acknowledged silently his attempt at a momentary truce and -not without a huff- stood up and conceded.

"Here." Ichigo said once they'd reached the area where the ordering counter was. He had already gone around to the back of the counter and was holding out a folded up green material towards the black-haired girl.

"What is it?" Rukia asked, looking down at the thing in his hand suspiciously.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and groaned. "It's not going to bite you. Just take it and put it on."

Rukia gave him an annoyed glance at his remark but took the folded thing into her hands. She took the upper area in her hands and watched as it became unfolded and revealed itself to be an apron.

She immediately groaned. "No."

"What the hell do you mean no?" Ichigo started, already smelling the beg ginning of the first quarrel of the night.

"I didn't have to wear this yesterday. I don't want to wear it." she declared, looking down at the apron with a cutely scrunched up nose.

Wait.

Did he just call her cute?

Hell no!

He immediately crushed the remainder of the thought down. The she-demon midget deserved zero adjectives that could in any way be positive.

"You work here now, unfortunately." he muttered the last word, but judging by the murderous glare she gave him, she'd heard. "You have to wear it."

"I don't need that ugly thing to clean tables." She countered.

Ichigo felt his patience running thin, and didn't know how it would make it four more hours. "Look, I don't like the apron any more than you do. We don't get a say in this, so just wear the damn thing and get to work." he paused and a thought occurred to him. "Or, if you really hate it that much, quit."

She glared more intensely at that, and quickly slipped the green thing -ridiculously small in his opinion- over her head, using her hands to slip her dark tresses out from under the straps by her neck and giving one quick apraising look at the nametag on the left side of her chest.

"There." she announced, non-too-happily.

"You have to tie it at the back." Ichigo informed her, looking at the two straps hanging limply at either side of her waist.

Rukia looked down at the straps and held them in her hands, looking at them strangely. Then she proceeded to fumble with them to try and tie them behind her.

Ichigo watched her struggle futilely for about a minute before stepping around the counter and coming up behind her.

"What are you-"

"I'm helping you, so shut up."

Knowing she wanted to protest, Ichigo set to work quick and began tying the straps at her back.

He concentrated on nothing but the green straps as he did so, but even so, his male eyes couldn't stop themselves from scanning over the rest of the view. He looked at how her slim back softly curved and at the area just below where his hands worked on the straps; the bump that was both subtle and curvaceous at the same time.

Ichigo gulped and hastily finished tying the apron before shoving his hands in his pocket and awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Done." he said, keeping his eyes away from her or any of her curves.

She doesn't have any curves. She's a flat little midget and nothing more. And annoying. Extremely annoying.

"Uh,"

Ichigo expected an annoying insult or another complaint -probably about how he tied it to tight or something, and tensed to make a comeback.

"Thanks."

The snappy remark died on his lips as she actually thanked him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just learn how to tie it yourself next time." he said, recovering. "Get to work before Urahara starts bitching."

"Alright, fine." she looked at him annoyed, then reached out a hand, palm upwards.

Ichigo smirked and handed him the currently clean wipe that had been behind him on the counter. "Good girl." he said condescendingly as he dropped the wipe into her waiting hand.

She stuck her tongue out at him and turned to go start cleaning.

Ichigo stood there a moment longer and ran a hand through his orange hair, before turning to go back behind the counter.

-x-

Ichigo looked up from the muffin display he'd just finished rearranging and snuck saw the raven-haired menace -as he had come to think of her- straighten up after finishing cleaning another table, then begin to practically drag herself over to another dirty table with her petite form slouched and her skinny shoulders slummed.

She took one dainty hand up to her mouth to try in vain to suppress a long yawn. With a look of resignation, she sprayed the surface of the table with Windex and started to wipe it clean.

The sight of her exhausted form stirred something in Ichigo and, as much as he disliked her, he took pity on her.

"I'll handle that." he declared, snatching the cleaning cloth from Rukia's nearly limp hands. Honestly, he didn't know why she was so tired; it was only a four-hour shift and she had only started working there the day before. "You can call it a day."

He had half expected her to stubbornly argue with him, as she always did no matter what the case, but instead, she barely managed a nod before she slumped right into the seat at the table, not even bothering to set down the Windex bottle, which Ichigo promptly took from her hand and, if he didn't know any better, he'd say she didn't even notice.

"What's got you so wiped out anyway?" He voiced his question. "Is cleaning a few tables that taxing for you? Used to having maids or nannies do all the hard work?" He didn't know why he started taunting her…Probably because after four hours of dealing with her he'd just gotten used to at least some degree of hostility while speaking with her.

"Shut up." The anger in her words was dimmed as another yawned followed the statement. "I'm just tired from all the unpacking I did today. At least I'm finished." she said the last relieved part more to herself than him.

Rukia stretched her arms above her head and yawned again before bending forward to lay her head on the table.

Ichigo sprayed some more Windex on the table and continued to clean around her head.

"Unpacking from what?" he asked. "A vacation this early in the summer?"

Head still resting face-down on the table, she shrugged her shoulders and he saw her shake her head 'no' without lifting it once. "More like for a vacation."

He raised his eyebrows at that, though she couldn't see.

"At least, it's supposed to be a vacation. Sort of." she muttered, raising her head in a way that made it seemed like it weighed 50 pounds and then rested the side of her head on her palm.

"Wait, so let me get the straight," Ichigo paused his cleaning. "You're here on vacation?" he questioned. "Who comes to Karakura for a vacation?"

She sent him a halfhearted glare. "I do. Got a problem with that?" she asked crankily. Of course, when was she not cranky.

"No need to get hormonal on me. I was just asking."

Ichigo got the idea that she might have hit him then if she hadn't looked like blinking was too much effort at the moment.

"So wait," Ichigo suddenly started. "If you're here on vacation…Why did you get a job?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Rukia began. "but I'm going to stay here a while and unlike you probably think, I don't, in fact, have a money-growing tree in my backyard. I kind of need this job."

Ichigo had to admit, he was a bit surprised by her statement. Yes, he had, indeed classified her as some bratty little rich girl who had never worked a day in her life and was here because she'd thrown a tantrum and her 'daddy' as making her work to teach her responsibility or something.

Still, no one could blame him. What was he supposed to think when the girl complained about wiping tables and didn't even know how to tie an apron by herself?

"So, how long are you staying?" he inquired.

"Do you care?" Rukia replied.

"Not really."

"Then don't ask."

He gaped and the look quickly turned into an irritated scowl. Rukia took the moment to take the cleaning cloth from his inattentive hand as she stood from her seat with what looked like a shot of energy.

"I'll take it from here. Thanks for the help."

After saying that, she proceeded to laboriously wipe the table, finishing quickly and moving on to another unclean table.

"Ungrateful little-" Ichigo muttered under his breath as he went back to the counter to make sure everything was ready for him to leave. "I try to be nice but nooo!" his mutters went on and probably would have gone a lot further if he hadn't been interrupted by the ring of a phone.

Seeing Rukia was busying herself with cleaning the last of the tables, he went to pick up the phone set on the wall behind the counter.

"Urahara Coffee Shop, sorry we're clo-" his formal voice trailed off when he heard the person on the other line.

"Ichigo! Is that you?" The voice, conspicuously female, exclaimed, obviously knowing it was him.

"Yeah, who's asking?" Ichigo replied anyway.

The voice gasped loudly. "You don't recognize me? Aw! How could you not know who I am?"

"I don't," Ichigo's nerves were grated down enough. He didn't have patience for this. "so just tell me who it is or I'm hanging up."

"Meanie." the voice accused him. "And here I am being nice calling you to invite you to a party."

"I'm hanging up now-"

"Wait! It's Rangiku, okay? Stupid." she said, annoyance seeping into her previously cheerful voice.

"I don't know any Rangiku." he said flatly.

"Ugh. Why do you always forget my name?" the person complained. "You do know me. You met me at that one frat party, remember?"

Ichigo didn't exactly go to that great many parties -and when he did, it usually wasn't willfully-, so he figured he would remember the one this 'Rangiku' person was talking about. He came up blank. "Sorry, I don't-"

He heard her groan on the other line. "Blue eyes, long strawberry blonde hair, big b-"

"Stop!" Ichigo cut her off, feeling himself getting flustered. "Okay, yeah I remember you." I think. He added silently.

"About time. Anyway-" she exclaimed, voice cheerful again. "I'm calling to tell you-"

"How'd you even get this number?" ichigo wondered aloud; she went on like he hadn't spoken.

"-that there is going to be a party tomorrow night, and I want you to go with me."

"No."

"What? That can't be your answer!"

"It is."

"But come on!" she whined. "It'll be fun!"

"I don't like parties." he stated truthfully.

"But it's a dinner party! They'll be lots of food and drinks, oh they'll be plenty of drinks-"

"No thank you." He said before she went on.

"Please?" She suddenly sounded pleading. "Just one night- a few hours at most. It'll be over before you know it."

Ichigo groaned. "Can't you find someone else?"

"Probably." she said in an almost smug tone. "But nothing better than a desperate pervert at this short notice. And my boss refuses to go with me, so that only leaves-"

"Me." he finished for her. "Gee, I feel so special." he remarked dryly.

"You should; it's not every day you get a date with someone like me." When Ichigo remained quiet, she spoke again. "Look, it'll just be a few hours, and it would mean a lot to me. So, please?"

Ichigo wanted to ask why she needed a date so badly; and if she really needed one so bad, why not just go out there and get one herself? Pervert or not.

But still, hearing her pleading, Ichigo couldn't help but be reminded of one of his sisters, looking up at him wide-eyed, asking for one piggyback ride…

"Fine."

The squealing on the other end nearly made him drop the phone and take back his decision.

"But just for a few hours." he stressed.

"Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much! You won't regret it!"

"Where do I meet you?" he asked, not bothering to offer to pick her up.

"The Katen Kyokotsu Motel. That's where the party is being held. Thanks again, Ichigo! I knew I could count on you!"

That last statement made his eyes widen and he was about to yell back at Rangiku that he took it back, but she had already hung up.

"Bitch." he growled, slamming the phone back on the receiver.

"I hope you're not talking about me."

He looked down, surprised to hear her. He scoffed as he saw Rukia looking at him with her arms folded and a raised eyebrow.

"No, I wasn't talking about you…This time."

"Good." she said, about to throw the rag on top of the counter along with the Windex bottle.

"Uh-uh." Ichigo stopped her. "Those go back there." he said, signaling to a bottom drawer underneath the coffee machine behind him.

Rukia rolled her eyes, as if asking 'Why can't you do it?'

Ichigo responded by not moving and making an exasperated motion for her to move it.

She did so -unhappily-, and went around the counter to settle everything in its place.

"I'm leaving now." she announced.

"I'm not stopping you." Ichigo responded without looking at her as he removed his apron and, folding it, shoved it into another drawer underneath the coffee machine; one side from the one where they kept the cleaning supplies.

Despite her declaration, Rukia had not moved an inch.

"Did you need something else?" he asked, not caring that he sounded rude.

He saw with surprise how the color rose to her cheeks. She tried to cover her embarrassment with a cough.

"I just need," she trailed off and used a finger to point to something right behind her.

Ichigo quirked an eyebrow before he saw what she meant. He groaned. "You can't be serious."

She glared, and that was answer enough.

"For God's sakes. Turn around." he ordered, already stepping forward to pull at the necessary strap as hurriedly as possible, this time careful not to let his eyes linger anywhere they didn't have any business looking-.

The bow at her back became undone and she quickly removed her own apron and began to shove it in the same place he had -not bothering to properly fold it.

Acting on some compulsive instinct that he had probably acquired thanks to his sister Yuzu, Ichigo snatched the apron out of Rukia's hands before she shoved it in the drawer in a crumpled ball and folded it neatly before putting it over his and closing the drawer.

Rukia huffed at his action and, without thanking him -he duly noted- she turned and began to leave.

"See you Monday." she called without turning as she opened the door to get out.

"Unfortunately." he replied loud enough for her to hear, just as the glass door swung closed with a chime.

-x-

Rukia was too tired to even change out the clothes she was wearing before she threw herself down on the full-sized mattress of her bed at the Katen Kyokotsu.

She could have been unconscious right then and there, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open long enough for her to reach to turn off the lamp at her bedside table.

As she was about to do so, something else caught her eye.

A small piece of paper lying on the table, unnoticed until then. Fighting her weariness for another minute, she grabbed the paper and used the lamplight to read.

Birthday Dinner Party at the Katen Kyokotsu!

Saturday, 7:00PM.

Hope you can make it!

She quickly remembered her visitors that morning (well, that afternoon) telling her about the party. She'd forgotten as soon as she heard about it, but now she saw that someone, a cleaning lady probably, had bothered to leave an actual invitation.

Rukia wasn't much of a partygoer, never had been; so obviously she didn't plan on going to some party when she wouldn't even know anyone there.

An unexpected phone call the next morning would change her plans.


A/N: Chapter four everyone! And still only twelve reviews. Tsk, tsk.

Okay I'll stop complaining now xD

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it, I'm always glad to know someone is reading the story^^

So, about this chapter, all I want to clarify is that Ichigo did write a reply to the mysterious 'White Juliet', but he hasn't gone to deliver it yet (put it on the Willow). But he will, don't worry. Soon (-next chapter, soon-)

And also, Yes, Ichigo and Rukia are being invited to the same party. You'll get to see more of that next chapter, where I'll also introduce a few new characters and, of course, get in some more IchigoXRukia interactions ;D

Thanks for reading! Leave a review on your way! [pretty please :)] Til next chapter!