Chapter 5: Dance with me?

It was no question as to who took home the gold that night for the talent show. Ichigo accepted it with modest pleasure and retreated backstage only to be bombarded by admiring teens. Once he disappeared behind the red curtain, he was instantly greeted by a tunnel of clapping and cheering teens awaiting his happy face.

Ichigo smiled at all of them, happy that- for now- they weren't resenting him for beating them at the talent show…again. But it wasn't an entirely sincere smile. Sure he was happy for his admiring public, but he was too preoccupied with the torturous thoughts running through his mind to fully enjoy it. After walking off that stage, the reality of his decision hit him like a rock in the stomach- he wanted to do it again.

He knew this would happen! Knew the second he agreed to dance one last time, that it would tempt him to do more. Tempt him…hm… he suddenly had the urge to walk up to his teacher and punch him square in the nose. Mr. Shin knew this would happen- damn him to hell!

Ichigo made his way down the tunnel of students giving him slaps of the back and meat grinders and such, smiling calmly when Keigo jumped onto his back and gave him a noogy, and when Inoue latched herself around his waist. It was nice to be loved this much, but to Ichigo…all he wanted was to get away from it all- the laughter, happiness, and friends. Too much…. temptation.

He managed to slip out of everyone's grasp, and sped up his pace to the dressing room door just down the hall. Thank God the door had a lock on it. He had to steady himself- force his body not to just bolt down the halls and small the door behind him. That would look suspicious. And knowing his all too caring friends, they'd go off and get the teachers so they'd have to come in, unlock the door and go through a large speech asking what was wrong with him. No. Too much trouble to go through.

He made it to the door, telling himself over and over again not to get too hasty and slam the door, even though the crowd was fallowing him to the door. He smiled and waved at the crowd, just to make sure they had the impression he wasn't trying to get the hell away from them, than slowly closed the door, latching it shut seconds after.

He pressed his forehead up to the cold wood of the door, keeping his hand on the knob and lock. He let out a few calming breathes, hoping to get his adrenaline down and to keep his mind clear of any thoughts of dancing again.

God, he felt like collapsing all of a sudden. Ichigo was left breathless after the performance he did, and after not dancing for a good three years than suddenly jump into a complicated number like that, it left his body feeling like jelly. Perhaps he pushed himself just a little too hard?

He felt his sweat dripping off his face, leaving a small puddle at his feet and a wet mark on the door. What he would give for a glass of water and fan right now.

His head spun, and he felt himself slightly swaying to the side. He needed to sit down for a few minuets. He slowly let his hand slide of the doorknob and he turned and faced the make-up tabled lined against the furthest wall behind him.

"That was a very good performance, sir," came a feminine voice. Ichigo gasped and slipped on the puddle of sweat on the floor, causing him to loose his footing and slam up against the door behind him.

The woman held a petite hand to her mouth, covering her laughter as much as she could, as she watched Ichigo slide to the floor with a grunt.

"My apologize," she said under her chuckles. " I didn't mean to startle you." Ichigo rubbed the back of his head as he glared up at the woman sitting in a chair in front of a table.

Ichigo froze.

The woman was sitting with her hands gently placed in her lap, and her legs crossed at the ankle, starring at Ichigo with biggest, deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. Her skin was so fair, and her black hair formed her around her fairy like face perfectly. Aside from her casual attire, she looked like a porcelain doll. She was the most gorgeous thing Ichigo had ever seen.

He sat on the floor, gaping like child over a new toy. The woman laughed again, this time not hiding her rosy smile under her hand.

Ichigo fumbled around for the doorknob above him, keeping his wide eyes locked on hers the whole time. He slowly hoisted himself up, being extra careful not to slip again.

"I must say, I was quite intrigued by your performance. I haven't seen someone dance that well since…well…me."

"Wait, whoa now. Who are you? And better yet… how'd you get in here?" Ichigo asked, suddenly remembering that she was a complete stranger who managed to sneak her way past everyone in the auditorium.

The woman gasped, putting her hand over her heart, "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Rukia Kuchiki."

Ichigo's hand slipped off the doorknob and he stumbled to the side. "T-the Rukia Kuchiki?"

Rukia smiled and nodded once. Ichigo let out a shocked breath and ran a hand through his hair, standing up tall and perfect.

"Damn," he whispered to himself. Just his luck someone of her stature would show up in his time of frailty. His mind was already weakened after dancing, and now Rukia Kuchiki was sitting in his dressing room, pushing his decision further. He knew he'd give in if she asked him to her company- and not that he'd mind, of course it's just…she's three years too late. He let his hand slide form his hair and land at his thick thigh with a smack.

"Look, Miss Kuchiki….I know what you're gonna say and I'm touched that you think so but…I don't think I'd be able to do it."

"Oh you do, do you? Than what was I going to ask you, Mr. Kurasaki?" He used his name mockingly more that respectively. It was obvious she didn't like being called 'Miss'. Ichigo kind of cocked his head back at her sudden attitude towards him, but brushed it off and answered.

"You were going to congratulate me on a performance well done, give me a progress report on moves I should improve on, than recommend me to your academy."

Rukia raised one eyebrow and looked away for a second. "Wow…sounds like you've been through this before."

Ichigo shrugged, "Once or twice, yeah." Once or twice was a major understatement. Try more like ten or twelve, than maybe you'll be reaching the limit.

"So, I'm sorry, Miss Kuchiki, but again…I must decline," Ichigo replied with a bow and a smile before turning to the make-up table against the wall furthest from Rukia, where his street clothes laid draped over the back of his chair. He began to shrug off his black tank top, keeping his back to Rukia as she stood up abruptly from her chair.

"Than may I ask you this, Mr. Kurasaki?" she was trying to hide it, and doing very well as far as facial expressions go. But her voice cracked, and Ichigo began to think that…maybe she was desperate.

Ichigo's gesture of the head gave Rukia her answer, and she took in a breath.

"Why can't you join?"

Ichigo paused, his white street shirt half way up his arms. He starred at the dark mocha walls nearly motionless. Rukia's breath stopped. Perhaps she had struck an unseen nerve?

Ichigo sighed heavily, that finished pulling on his shirt. He turned to Rukia, his facial expression completely changed. Rukia took a step back. She did strike a nerve, and a very touchy one at that.

"I'm sorry if I…"

"You're fine," Ichigo interrupted, sticking his hand in the air. "I'm just…suddenly tired and need to sit down for a while."

Ah, the phrase used by many people to escape the uneasy answering of questions. This wasn't the first time Rukia had heard that, nor the first time she'd been just a little too nosy for her own good. Ichigo was handling it surprisingly well considering his reason for feeling ' woozy'. He didn't know why but…he wasn't really offended when she openly asked him.

Rukia didn't protest in him taking a seat, or using the all too popular phrase to evade her question. She figured she owed it to him to be patient, since he was being such a good sport about it…. and the fact she felt overwhelmingly guilty for her pushiness just a few minuets ago.

Ichigo had plopped down in his chair by now, grunting heavily as he did so. Rukia watched him with soft eyes, waiting to see if he'd even reply to her question, even if it was a lie.

Ichigo leaned forward, putting his hands in his orange hair as he took a moment to reply.

Rukia could hardly stand it. Not only did he look like Kaine, but also he was in a few ways, more beautiful. Kaine was larger, broader shouldered with thick legs and rocks for arms. Jet black hair and eyes as blue as the sky. Rukia could get lost in them when she stared hard enough.

But this boy, probably just one year older than she was, had the body of a true dancer. Long, elegant legs that were perfectly shaped. Arms that looked strong enough to hold up a car yet gentle enough to hug a child. Face that had sharp features- like a detailed, marble sculpture. But what really got her…were his eyes. Deep. Endless. Golden. A powerful tool he used against his audience that night- catching all of them in his grasp with a single look. They were his greatest weapons against her.

Ichigo sta up in his chair, letting his hands slide down his face slowly. Rukia was knocked out of her daze, blinking and shaking her head slightly. He sighed, a sound that made Rukia's pine quiver. Even his voice was beautiful.

"It's…hard to explain. You'd have to know me very well to understand—"

Rukia suddenly got a sly smirk. "Oh I know enough of you, believe me."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her. "Hu?"

Rukia took in a breath, than said, "You were born on January 5th, 1988, and grew up here in Tokyo. During your elementary years, you took a liking to dance, starting with basic ballet, than progressed form there. You took state for tap dance, did hip-hop for a year, but mostly love Tango. You became a child prodigy and competed with the top tango dancers in Tokyo, and eventually…even tied the ranks with me. But than you suddenly stopped just few years past and no one knows why you quit. Your favorite color is red, and your favorite past time was sitting in front of your T.V eating pocky."

Ichigo's jaw was a gape and his eyes were wide. A woman, who he thought hardly knew him just summarized his life in about thirty seconds flat. Rukia stood up tall, puffing her chest out and smirking proudly.

"O…k. so maybe you do know me," Ichigo said in a breath. Rukia just smiled wider.

"So can you tell me than?" Rukia asked, dropping her air of arrogance and returning to her business-lady attitude.

"But you don't know me that well, " Ichigo stated, rolling his eyes at her as he stood up from his chair and walked to the door. That was when a knock came from the door, and a timed voice fallowed.

"Ichigo? Are you ready to go yet?" It was Inoue, standing on the other side with Keigo and Ishida by her side.

"Yeah, I'm almost ready," Ichigo replied.

"Well hurry up! You take longer than a girl in there!" said Keigo with a laugh to fallow.

"Look Miss Kuchiki, I already gave you my answer, and I stick to my decisions. I'm sorry, but I've made up my mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go home and—" Ichigo reached for the door, but he felt a hand land softly on his shoulder, turning him abruptly until he was facing her.

Without a second of breath, Rukia pressed her lips to his, catching a shocked Ichigo in a hot, passionate kiss. He froze, eyes wide and arms stiff, unknowing of what the hell was going on. He could feel Rukia's lips on his…and all he could do was stand still. He felt her hand on his shoulder slide up to his cheek, holding is face in place. Ichigo closed his eyes; unknowingly falling into her overwhelming power over him. He began to kiss her back, but Rukia didn't stop.

It was like he and her knew each other for years, how deep they were kissing each other. Ichigo could only hope no one would walk in on them. Rukia began to push him backwards, causing him to smack up against the door with a bang.

Rukia ran her hand through his hair before letting it fall to his cheek again, than she parted from his face. Ichigo's eyes were still closed, almost like they were stuck in the fantasy of his mind.

Again a knock came from the door, and Inoue sounded alarmed.

"Ichigo? Ichigo, are you okay? I heard a thump."

"Before you say anything, let me tell you this," Rukia whispered, pressing her forehead against his, both of them keeping their eyes closed. "Forget my question. You don't have to answer it. I will go, but before I do, I want you to know one thing…. It's possible to go without dancing entirely. Moments have been known of young people passing many, many months successively, without being at any ball of any kind…. and no material injury accrue either to body or mind…. but when a beginning is made…when the felicities of rapid motion have been once, though slightly felt…it must be very heavy set that does not ask for more."

And with that, she slipped a card in his hand and walked out the door. Inoue, Keigo, and Ishida were all lined up at the door, ears pressed to it when Rukia walked out, accidentally shoving them aside when she opened the door.

She saw the three friends looking at her suspiciously and she stopped, smiled, and whipped a stray bit of lipstick from her mouth, than walked off. It was obvious that the friends suspected that something rather dirty happened in that room by their wide-eyed and gaping mouth expressions. And it didn't help matters when Ichigo, still lost in a daze, kind of stumbled out of the room, red lipstick smeared on his lips and hair ruffled in a bed head fashion.

Inoue came up beside him, a look of strong jealousy on her face.

"Who was she?" she asked with a venomous undertone.

Ichigo just stood there, frozen in his shocked expression. He looked down at the card she had slipped in his hand, and all it said was Rukia Kuchiki. Tsushima dance Academy. Dance with me?