The Cat Came Back

Date Written: 06-19-07
Date Uploaded: 6-21-08
Last Editing: 07-27-07
Rating: PG-13 for mutual naughtiness, nothing explicit
Series: Bleach
Spoiler Warnings: Blink-and-you-miss-it spoilers for the Vizard stuff. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, this can just be totally out of any context.
Author: Izzi (That's right, I went there)
Additional Notes: Written many moons ago, updated now. If you recognize the poem the title is based on, it's an old children's song by Harry S. Miller. It's actually a pretty macabre tale of people trying to get rid of a pet cat, which just won't die. Reminded me of Ichigo. ...I'm evil. More stories probably... tomorrow. I hope.

.x.x.x.x.

He was sore… everywhere. Every inch ached and screamed just to lie down in his own bed. He crept through the front door, undetected by his family. Three a.m. wasn't exactly the height of activity in the Kurosaki household anyway. He grabbed a spoonful of the now cold soup left on the stove from dinner and slunk up the stairs in perfect silence. The door to Yuzu, Karin, and Rukia's bedroom was closed. He hoped that meant that no one would be bothering him.

His bedroom door opened without a sound.

He dropped his clothes on the floor and pulled on loose pajama pants. He began to dig through his drawers for the shirt. It was a thinning t-shirt that was big and worn and entirely his. He was a bit disappointed that it was missing, but the desire for sleep overwhelmed all other senses.

He climbed into his bed, which was already incredibly warm. And incredibly full. He groaned, reaching out to push away what he assumed was a mass of laundry. The laundry groaned in protest in a distinctly husky feminine voice. Come to think of it, the laundry was very warm and very soft and very loudly breathing. He decided not to wake the creature in his bed. Instead, he leaned over to get a better look at its face.

Rukia was breathing softly, the moonlight from the window on her face. And she was wearing his shirt. Was nothing sacred? He thought about giving her the rudest wake-up call of her hundred fifty year old life, but then he reconsidered. What pissed off a stuffy Kuchiki more than anything? ...Embarrassment.

He took just a moment formulating his plan. It was a damn good thing the shinigami slept like a rock because he was relatively sure that the cogs grinding away could have woken a normal human being. He very gingerly slipped back under the covers. Had it not been for the excuse of complete exhaustion, this would have officially been Ichigo's stupidest plan ever.

His arm snaked around her. She purred. For a second, Ichigo paused, the implications of the sound just barely penetrating his consciousness. He grabbed a handful of shirt at the very bottom and growled into her ear a single word. "Mine."

She gave a light grunt, then groggily rolled over slightly. She was obviously as sleepy as he was. She replied simply, "Mmm... yours." She settled into his grasp and seemed to drift back to sleep.

He got close to her again. "I meant the shirt."

Something about the statement clicked, because she bolted dead upright and scrambled to the furthest corner of the bed she could get to. She was practically glowing red in the dark. "I-I-Ichigo! What are you doing here?"

He sat up and looked at her flatly. "This is my house."

"R-Right, but I thought you were... out."

"I was. Now I'm... back." He imitated her pause in a far more sarcastic tone. "And I'd like to sleep in my own bed."

She begrudgingly climbed out, still blushing furiously, and retreated toward the door, only to stop in the middle of the room. She slid open the closet, then closed again. She cleared her throat.

"What?" he groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"I don't want to wake up your sisters. And the closet is full."

Ichigo, far too tired to argue, pressed himself against the wall to make room. She climbed back in. "Ichigo?"

"I'm tired. I want to sleep." Something warm and light landed on his head. "What is-" A shirt. "Damn."

Rukia smiled as Ichigo blushed furiously. She laid back down and whispered against his back, "It's all yours."