Liar, Liar

.

Got called in
Won't see you for breakfast
Hope this makes up for it

Rukia can feel Shiro squinting at her and forcibly suppresses the rush of blood threatening to fill her cheeks. Coughing delicately to dissipate the awkward silence, she busies herself opening the brown paper bag, still surprised despite Expresso Patronus' logo to find her takeaway coffee and two cupcakes – both mandrakes seemingly "bloomed" to look like sunflowers.

"I've never seen those before," her brother intones, suspicious.

"I know a guy," she retorts.

"Dating one, more like." Shiro doesn't see the blush stain her skin as he closes his eyes in thought. "At least Kurosaki's got an in with your favorite coffee shop, can't say that doesn't come with perks."

"Oi."

"What? Like you got anything out of dating that bozo with a bad haircut," he says with a snort.

Rukia pointedly ignores that, choosing to ask instead, "When did you even get this? You're not even dressed and…" She takes in the fact that he's looking uncharacteristically naked. "Why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?"

He grumbles. "It was hot last night."

This, from a guy who still occasionally wears shirts when he swims. She raises a brow disbelievingly before he grumbles again, passing one beat in annoyed silence before answering her first question, "Karin delivered it."

"You know Karin?"

He shrugs, turning away to the counter to dig around for the sugar container despite the exact number of sugar packets beside his own takeaway cup. "She usually delivers my coffee whenever I need a fix."

"Oh…does she now?" Rukia trails, tone heavy with implication which is more than enough for Shiro to snap, green eyes narrowed, "Shut up" which would be more terrifying if he wasn't redder than a tomato. She smirks, just as he says, "Karin just brings my coffee, Kurosaki's the one baking you shit."

"I still don't get how he has the time for that," Rukia wonders aloud, setting aside the sticky note and absently reaching for her phone.

Shiro shrugs. "Karin said the owner is like some weird uncle of theirs, they've been working at the 'shop since they got accepted at the university. Kurosaki did it before the firefighter gig."

"You and Karin talk a lot then?"

"Shut up," he repeats, his usual of deadpan returning even in spite of the blush still on his neck before he wanders back into his room with his coffee in hand, adding over his shoulder, "There's a bunch of papers on the table, I'm going to assume they're yours. Next time you have a dinner party, maybe say goodbye to Hisana-nee before she freaks on Byakuya-niisama again."

Rukia huffs out a breath, rolling her eyes a little before messaging her sister in apology while simultaneously turning her attention to the evidence of Hisana's research.

While the table had been mostly cleared of the dinner she abandoned last night, her books neatly set aside; the surface of the table is covered in paper. The first page, she picks up, as well as the third, fourth, fifth and sixth indicate a pattern she should've seen coming purely because they were all familiar things she'd looked up and printed out the first time she started experiencing them: What is a panic attack and what causes it? Treatments for panic attacks. What to do about anxiety? Conditions relating to –

Hisana's latest message beneath the barrage of her panicked questions last night reads simply: I'm sorry I didn't know, please talk to me?

Sighing, Rukia ran a hand across her face, rubbing away the exhaustion that still clung to her skin before she replies with nothing to apologize for, I was the one who didn't tell you. I have class until 5, we can try dinner again if you want?

Rukia isn't surprised when Hisana replies instantly, of course, just you and me?

Please? And tell Byakuya-niisama that I'm okay right now

He told me to send you this, Hisana responds, and there's a picture of their rescue dog, his prosthetic leg an almost eyesore yellow, the black outlines of sunflowers Rukia had done herself, on display as he flashed a doggy smile into the camera. In your brother's own emotionally constipated way, he wants you to feel better, so we both hope that helped?

She's already smiling so isn't lying when she says so.

With that confirmed, Hisana and Byakuya, by proxy, wish her a good day and confirm that they'll text when they're free for dinner, Rukia turns her attention to her takeaway coffee.

Panic attacks usually exhaust the hell out of her, and even with passing out sometime after Ichigo had calmed her down, she gulps down the brew greedily.

Waking up in bed had been confusing though, she recalls, as was realizing that it was morning and she'd somehow slept through Ichigo putting her to bed – tucking her in and sticking her Chappy doll in her arms, to her embarrassment – and him leaving sometime after.

His messages from last night were longer than the one written on the sticky note that accompanied the takeaway bag:

Your sister might've gone overboard with the research but she's just worried about you. Take it easy.

Followed by a picture of her sleeping, Chappy tucked under her chin, her face obscured by pink bunny ears, and the caption reading: You're like a human octopus, hope you don't mind 'Chappy' replacing me, you seemed attached.

Rukia snorts despite the embarrassment, and replies, you're just jealous because you don't have a Chappy of your own followed by thanks for the coffee and everything else, by the way, you didn't have to. be safe.

It doesn't look like he's been online for at least half an hour, and she sets her phone aside to get ready for the day.

With a shower, her coffee and the cupcakes she's carrying into the TA office for a treat later in the day, Rukia feels almost normal and self-conscious that she'd had a breakdown at all especially taking into account that Ichigo's out dealing with an honest to god fire.

Getting into the elevator to leave her apartment building, she passes an absent smile at a trio of girls already inside though only one of them smiles back as her friends huddle over their phones, and over the din of the elevator to declare, "The fire was huge."

"Yeah, I heard the whole department had to be there."

"No kidding," one of them gasps, and by the time the bell dings to announce her floor, Rukia has her phone in her hand – mind racing between blowing up Ichigo's phone with text messages or googling about the fire –

Fortunately, the choice is made for her when her screen lights up with a text from the man himself: Was the coffee okay?

With a breath huffed out in a nervous laugh, she hits the call button and he answers almost hesitantly, "Either I somehow got your order wrong or you're gonna yell at me about something else."

"You're ridiculous."

"So, something else then," he decides, and it should say something about her that she can hear how his smile shapes the words.

She exhales loudly at the mental picture she has of him - leaning back in his chair, careless and relaxed and effortlessly cool with a hand in his hair. Rukia blames the sudden thudding of her heart to written off adrenaline, and asks, "Are you okay?"

He pauses, and Rukia thinks absurdly that he thinks she's the ridiculous one, until he answers, "I'm alright, I got a couple of bruises, though, but not the worst."

"Okay," she exhales again, "okay, great."

It's so incredibly stupid that she doesn't even need to see his face to know he's got a smug expression as he prompts, "You worried about me?"

"You're an idiot."

He snorts a laugh before eventually confirming, "I'm okay, I promise. I'm always careful."

"Good, great," Rukia says, "I'm glad," and then trails off in a bit of a panic when she realizes she has nothing else to add to the conversation.

What the hell was she even thinking? She internally laments just as she's just about to awkwardly say goodbye and abruptly end the call, she realizes that someone's standing in front of her, and doesn't seem particularly interested in her attempt to sidestep them.

With a determined furrow between her brows and eyes narrowed, any softness Rukia would've attributed to Inoue Orihime is restricted to the summer dress she's wearing and the not-unsubstantial size of her breasts, squished viciously together by her crossed arms that Rukia is momentarily concerned that the other woman is threatening to pop them in her face. "Uh?"

"You don't deserve him," Inoue opens with.

"Excuse me?"

Her lip trembles. "Y-you," Inoue huffs, lifting her chin. "You don't know him, not like I do, you don't deserve him. You don't know how amazing and kind he is. Kurosaki-kun is like a prince and you-you don't – you don't deserve him."

Rukia is too baffled to even ask where this is coming from which is just as well because Inoue isn't finished:

"I've loved him my whole life. Ever since his mother died in that fire, I wanted to take care of him, and I know – I know I could make him happy. I knew because-because he was always so sad, and so angry, and even when he would push everyone away, I knew he wouldn't do that to me. But I didn't want to hurt him by forcing him to hurt me before he was ready to accept it, so I waited and waited – and then you come along and -" She giggles almost hysterically. "You don't even realize how perfect he is, just-just using him like you do! Sending him on coffee runs and holding him so tightly, like that would make him stay, like that would fix him! But you have no idea how broken he is, you have no idea the amount of love he needs. It's okay if it's overwhelming – Kurosaki-kun is like the sun and not everyone can give him the love he needs. Except me. I know I could – I know if he just let me -"

The adrenaline is back, pumping violently and angrily in her veins as she turns the words over and over again until –

"But he didn't," Rukia interjects coldly. "Ichigo didn't let you in, hasn't for as long as he's known you, and maybe this is why." She makes an abortive gesture to the small crowd that's gathered around them in interest, felt their obtrusive fascination with unfolding public drama like ants on her skin. "You don't care about Ichigo or his feelings, you care about you and what he means to you, and what he deserves is more than someone else's projected fantasies."

Inoue tries to pull her back, exclaiming, "You don't understand -"

"No, you don't." Rukia doesn't let her, and she glares the other woman down something fierce that even their audience freezes up. "Whatever's happened to Ichigo, whatever pains he has, it's his. You don't get to wave your knowledge of them in my face just because you know, it's not your burden to share or prop up like some trophy. He's neither of those things. So, if you love him, like you claim you do, apologize for the mud you've tracked into his heart and leave him be, if he wanted to let you in to make the mess that you have, he would've already."

The crowd parts to let her through, and it isn't until she's standing outside the TA office that she realizes she forgot to end the call with Ichigo. When she brings her phone back up to her face, the call's still going.

To her surprise, when his voice comes through, there's a weird feedback, like they're standing too close, "Rukia."

She looks up to see him standing there, waiting, his phone still pressed against his ear.

"Ichigo?" There's no leather jacket this time, just the yellow suspenders and pants, a black shirt and a pair of gloves he's apparently forgotten to take off. "What are you…?"

"I…" he steps closer and then makes a face. "I'm gonna put the phone down now."

Muffling a laugh, she does the same and looks up at him inquiringly. "What's going on?" She isn't so much startled that he's cradling her head and pressing his lips against her forehead as she is startled by how all the tension from her interaction with Inoue completely drains out of her body.

When he murmurs a "thank you" between another kiss, she clutches at his black shirt and mumbles against his chest, "You smell like smoke."

And Ichigo laughs so hard, his arms around her shake them both, and at that, even Rukia can't resist laughing with him.