A/N: This chapter turned far more narrative than I planned for it to be. I hope you like it anyway and I'll try to make the next one better... Yeah, I know I'm like ALWAYS promising that but, if it's gonna make a difference, I really AM trying. T_T

Ichigo's new program wasn't all that diverse from the previous one. Actually, the only major change was his math classes, which were now conducted by a completely different teacher. A couple of more lessons were switched or moved from one day to the other, PE was no longer with Kira but instead with Toushiro and most of his classes were now with Renji. As far as the other details regarding the team were considered, the diminutive captain had demanded to have the carrot-top run some tests to check on his physical condition, just in case and his file was thoroughly checked for any discipline issues from his previous school. Ichigo didn't mind – not really – he was actually having the time of his life. True, Hitsugaya had the curious penchant to miraculously turn into a hell hound once he set his foot on the field and he, Kurosaki, along with the rest of the team, had to suffer the transformation without so much as strangled a moan to express their pain thrice a week but oh, was it worth it! For what appeared to be just a week, Ichigo turned from the weird new kid to a gossip topic Number 1, a load of flattering, disconcerting or quite inconceivable stories swarming around the building, both disquieting and adulating the carrot-top's self-conceit.

"Don't let it get to your head." Hitsugaya warned one Wednesday afternoon as he dismissed the team, staying behind to jog for awhile more. Unable to give an actual answer between his breathless pants, Ichigo satisfied himself by merely nodding before turning around to drag himself towards the lockers room. His teammates had already gotten inside, being far more used to the practices than he was, and their loud voices came in mingled gurgles and only half-serious growls from the showers section. The strawberry let out a small weary sigh and plopped on the nearest bench, giving his strained shank muscles a few moments to relax. His brain activity had been seriously reduced due to the heavy physical activity, so for awhile he just stared blankly in front of him, restoring his breathing and his heartbeat, a mash of random thoughts floating around his head for a few minutes until it settled on the very last thing he had heard today. Hm? Ichigo frowned as he forced himself on his feet and pulled his locker open, a wobbly hand rummaging inside clumsily for a few moments as he let the words seep into his brain cells, formulate something sensible. There was a peculiar notch in the way Toushiro had spoken his warning, something quite strongly resembling apprehension that just baffled him in the most unnerving way possible. It was almost like Hitsugaya was asking him not to yield, because he knew what the consequences would be. Was this something the boy had experienced himself? Or was it…

…Was it what had stood between him and Ichimaru in the end? Reputation? Popularity?

Dismissing the thought almost as soon as it had occurred to him, Ichigo let out a small hiss of annoyance and draped the rolled towel around is neck before heading to the showers. A couple of other students were already exiting it, one of them grinning at the carrot-top with a mild condescension (which he blamed on his current inability to get used to the training schedules) and the carrot-top did his best to return the smile with a very, very weary one.

"Regretting it already, huh, Ichigo?" Renji's teasing chortle reached his ears but he chose to ignore it and picked a cubicle, throwing his towel over its side and turning the water on. God, it feels good… Letting the drops massage his sore muscles and ease the pain in his aching body, Ichigo closed his eyes and stayed like this, relishing into the feeling. So much effort for staying on the team, wasn't it? Running like crazy and training every part of your body into a robust ball of strength. He deserved a little something for it, didn't it? A little bit of appreciation. So what if he wasn't nameless anymore, if people knew who he was? Popularity wasn't a sort of an abhorrent crime, or even something that he could help, it was just how things worked. Plus, he wasn't some flippant, brain-less douche, he wasn't going to go blind all of a sudden just because he got some attention. He knew very well what he wanted and how he wanted it and there was no way he was going to lose his sober sense of-…

Ichigo paused, brown eyes cracking open as a realization dawned on him, the word 'sober' grinding against his insides, urging him, beckoning him. Sober. A tiny smirk grazed his lips as he reached to turn the stream just a tiny bit cooler.

"So." Ichigo drawled, both brows raising suspiciously as he took in Rangiku's wicked grin apprehensively. "Lemme get this straight: Toushiro doesn't get to sit at the back of the room, or next to anyone, because he lets people cheat from him?"

"Oh, not 'cheat', that's such an ugly word!" Matsumoto groused, waving her hand around dismissively before placing it on Hitsugaya's desk, her pale blue eyes surveying the prodigy as he lift his own bored gaze off the book he was reading to show below mild interest in the dialog the other two were having. "He just lets others… help themselves from what he's doing. But since the teacher can't see that point of view, he's forced our poor captain to sit all alone at the front, unable to provide any help to his friends in need."

"Namely you?" Ichigo suggested and next to him Toushiro slammed his book on the desk with a snort.

"Namely half the class." He supplied, shooting his best friend with a mock-angry glare as he leaned back in his chair. "And don't listen to her, I still write her test every time, it's why she sits behind me."

Matsumoto didn't even have the decency to blush at that revelation as she contemplated the shorter of the boys with a pouty, playful smile before reaching to ruffle his white locks – an action that was bound to have everybody else lose their hand if they dared even try. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes but endured the teasing, fingers instantly snapping up to his hair to try and fix it the best way he could once Rangiku was no longer disheveling him.

"So, yeah." The girl said, turning once more to face the carrot-top, hip jutting to the side in a slightly provoking manner. "Sorry, but you don't get to have Toushiro for the Math classes to sit beside him to discuss… what was it again?"

"Soccer strategies." Ichigo replied flatly, trying very hard not to let the disappointment show much or his gaze to roam too obviously in Hitsugaya's general direction. "And, you know, other such stuff that… might help the team."

The look that aroused on the girl's face at that statement (accompanied with a tiny frown and a narrowing of her eyes), was definitely a suspicious one, yet before she had had the time to voice her opinion on the matter, the bell went off. A cloud of moans and half-muffled cusses exploded around the room, the event and the reactions all simultaneously announcing the beginning of yet another fragment of school torture. In a heartbeat, all of the aimlessly wandering students hurried to scrambled to their places, groups of people talking quieted down and parted with a few goodbyes and a few devastated personas made their way from the halls - inside the classroom. Only Toushiro seemed to remained unaffected by the sound signal, eyes and nose still buried in his read, while Ichigo proved to be the other incredible exception by showing surprising enthusiasm in his efforts to settle as quickly as possible at the back, conveniently picking the same line of desks as the white-haired genius. The lesson started shortly afterwards and the place fell deadly silent, unlike many other classes in which the students hardly even attempted to listen(choosing instead to study for other subjects or engage themselves with whatever sorts of entertainment their mobiles could provide). Apparently, this could not happen during Math and by the way the teacher spoke, half-snarling, half-yelling despite the lack of any sound whatsoever, Ichigo was rather certain that even the smallest fuss caused here could have the most explosive results.

The carrot-top glanced around the room once, his foot under the table moving up and down impatiently, and when no jeopardizes seemed to catch his attention (for now) he tore a piece of paper from his notebook, quickly scrabbling something on it.

When Hitsugaya heard the soft thud of something landing on his desk, he lifted his eyes from his book very, very reluctantly, wondering for a minute whether some kamikaze had tried to aim at the teacher (who was currently writing something on the board with his back facing the class) and by some fluke, missed. As expected, a tiny ball of paper was recovering quickly from its journey, the trepidation already dying off against the hard wooden surface of the writing table. Toushiro contemplated the round object for a moment with what appeared to be sincere hostility, then glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the class to see who was the culprit of this little crime. It didn't take long to spot the familiar crown of orange hair, sticking out at the back of the room in attempts for its owner to see what was happening and the genius couldn't help the puzzled arch of his brows as he realized what this could mean. Ah, is this what the whole deal is about? Desisting the urge to chuckle at the scene, Hitsugaya quickly spun around and grabbed a hold of the piece of paper, opening it under the desk.

I have a mathematical problem for you, smarty-pants. At what time of the day should the object I. meet object T. that is running at an average speed for his usual morning jog, so the two objects can have breakfast before school? Answer the question by also estimating the exact place where the two can meet, as well as the suitable hour.

Toushiro bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing out loud and after glancing at the teacher to make sure he was still very much concentrated on whatever he was writing on the board, the prodigy pulled the paper on his desk. He spread the wrinkled page the best he could and wrote down his answer hastily:

Well, if object I. can get his lazy ass out of the bed, both of them could just go jogging together instead of making insane plans to meet at insane hours… He hurried to ball the note again and turned around, estimating the distance in his head before throwing the note in Ichigo's direction. It landed right in front of the carrot-top and Toushiro saw him quickly grab the thing and pull it out of sight. A tiny furrow of the taller male's brows informed Toushiro that his reply had been seen and contented with his achievement, Hitsugaya turned around, going back to his previous occupations. Several minutes passed and nothing happened, this causing the short student to shift in his place uncomfortably. Had he, maybe, been too harsh with Kurosaki? He knew for a fact things sounded differently when written on paper rather than spoken and this was one of the many reasons why he didn't like chatting online. If people weren't used to his usual bitterness, there was no saying what they could assume from his remarks… And for a prodigy, Hitsugaya tended to put very little thought into how people would feel if he said this or that...

What's taking you so long, dammit!

Yes, ok, so maybe he kindda liked Ichigo. The carrot-top had spunk and despite proving to be quite clumsy and unrefined in a number of departments, he made up for it all with heart and honesty. Things that the boy hadn't even realized how much he needed. Or missed. With Gin…

Thud!

Looking around, Toushiro promptly spotted the familiar crumpled page next to his foot and hurried to pick it up, a wave of relief spreading across his insides soothingly as he unfolded the paper and looked at what was written inside it. Gee, Toushiro, this is the worst hand-writing I've ever seen! It took me forever to decipher all the words and quite frankly, I thought you'd be one of those people who write with meticulous, clear letters. You know, to match your prissy character... But anyhow! Back to the math problem. My lazy ass is ready to oblige, but how about we change the view a little? There's an awesome field next to my house, how do you feel about going there after school? I have something to talk to you about… Soccer stuff. Or maybe not so much…

Toushiro rubbed his brow with his thumb for a minute, the soft smile on his face quickly turning into a wicked smirk as he decided to mess with the carrot-top's head a little.

This field better be really nice and big, otherwise I don't see how I'll be able to solve your problem.

The field was empty that afternoon, which was a fairly good thing.

Ichigo decided to take it slow till he figured exactly how to pick up the subject. Jogging was indeed a good distraction and apparently Toushiro had absolutely no problem talking while running, his feet moving lightly and swiftly under his small body with what seemed to be slim to none effort whatsoever. Kurosaki couldn't say the same about himself, though, as several laps later he was hardly able to do anything other than breath heavily, while his diminutive companion was having the laugh of his life, running backwards in front of the carrot-top and teasing him about-… well, pretty much everything. Surprisingly, Ichigo didn't feel nearly as impaired as he assumed he would, the slightly playful flicker in the captain's eyes serving as enough of a reason for him not to take the situation seriously.

"Gods, I can't believe I took such a sluggish, slothful creature on my team." Toushiro gibed, putting his hands behind his back a she kept running backwards, eyes never once leaving the other, currently uncomfortably sweating student. "I bet you can't even defend yourself because you're so out of breath."

Gauging the few meters of distance between them and the fact that Hitsugaya had let his guard down, Ichigo allowed a small smirk to graze his lips.

"In a minute… you'll be the one… needing defense."

"What?"

Pushing himself one last time, Ichigo launched forward and before the other boy had had time to comprehend what was going on, he was brought to the ground, Kurosaki's larger and heavier body pinning the captain down with ease. Taking in the shocked, wide-eyed expression of the smaller male, the carrot-top let a giant grin split across his face as he held the boy's wrists to his sides, taking a couple of minutes to regain his breathing.

"Any clever remarks now?" the carrot-top teased, shifting a little so he wasn't crushing the slimmer body with his weight. "I feel like Willy the coyote, finally getting a hold of the roadrunner."

"You cheated!" Hitsugaya rebuffed, eyes still large and surprised, the annoyance somehow failing to emerge as he gazed up at the taller student hovering above him. He paused for a moment, then his features almost magically rearranged themselves in a sort of browned-off expression as he spoke again, his voice growing just a little bit thicker: "You do realize we're in the middle of a soccer field and you stink, right?"

Ichigo couldn't help it but burst laughing at the statement, his guffaw just a little bit choked around the edges due to his breathing still being quite uneven.

"So, why did you bring me here? You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

The laughter died a little in his throat, replaced by a sudden wave of heat that had nothing to do with the jogging. Opening his mouth to say something, Ichigo found himself yelping instead as a couple of cold raindrops landed on the overheated skin on the back of his neck.

"Oh, shit! It's raining!" the carrot-top exclaimed, quickly scrambling to his feet and giving a hand to a slightly bewildered Toushiro. In no more than 5minutes the hope for a light drizzle was murdered cruelly as the water started pouring in almost blinding drapes on their heads, causing them both to run for cover. Fifteen minutes later they had reached Ichigo's house and busted inside, both soaking wet from the little disaster, the captain's hair hanging low and limp around his face and his clothes so drenched they were leaving wet trails on the floor.

"Don't worry, my family's not home."

"Bathroom." Hitsugaya managed, kicking his shoes off and attempting to wipe the water from his eyes so he could see better.

"Upstairs to, second door to the left." Ichigo said and the captain nodded, making a few steps towards the staircase, only to stop and turn around, a mix of curiosity and a tad bit of impatience crossing his features.

"Won't you just tell me what you wanted to say already?" he urged tucking a dripping wisp of hair behind his ear. "Just say it, you've been keeping me on tenterhooks for hours."

Ichigo paused for a moment, his mouth twisting pensively to the side. Then he just blurted:

"Do you remember what I asked you to do for me on the party? When you were drunk?"

A/N: Review. And be very nice :)