67. windows to the soul
Title: Friend in Need (3/6)
Word Count: 393
Rating: G

Ichigo was in another of his frequent foul moods.

Kon watched him staring out that stupid window into the warm, cloudless night and briefly contemplated asking him what he was staring at. But he didn't, because he already knew where his part shinigami roommate's mind was.

Kon could always read Ichigo like a book.

Ever since he had returned from Soul Society without nee-san (Kon had been very careful to make sure that Ichigo knew how he felt about that) Ichigo had been getting increasingly unpleasant to be around.

Kon had tried talking to Ichigo about this, on several occasions.

That had not gone over well. After the last time when Ichigo had shoved him in the washing machine and then the dryer with his fathers laundry, Kon had since stopped trying to get him to talk about it and resigned himself to keeping Ichigo as busy as possible to keep him from thinking about nee-san.

This had mixed results, and the outcome differed, depending on who you asked.

On the one hand, Ichigo wasn't so focused on staring into space that he turned into a permanent vegetable. On the other, Kon would need more stuffing soon.

This didn't deter him from incurring the abuse every now and again, however, when the benefits of snapping Ichigo out of his silent funk outweighed the inevitable punishment.

Which was, Kon would be the first to admit, probably worse than the punishment given to anyone else if they were to take Kon's place as caretaker/relationship guidance counselor. Kon just always seemed to know what to say at any given moment to shift Ichigo's attention the most, in the direction of fury.

Because Kon could always read Ichigo like a book, and eyes were the window to the soul. Ichigo's eyes windows to a soul – his soul – that Kon understood the most, only second to Rukia.

So he felt it his duty, since nee-san wasn't present, to put that knowledge to use. "Looking for your imaginary friends?"

Amber eyes swung over to him, soul barred and anger blazing. Rukia was NOT imaginary, who SAID he was looking for her…?

Locked in Yuzu's room scribbled all over with flowers and butterflies in permanent marker on his manly fur, while not unexpected, was still humiliating. At least Ichigo was getting more creative.

It was such a thankless job sometimes.