AN: Sorry for the wait, dear readers, real life is now a lot busier. One more chapter is written, beyond that I have to find time to write, so I'm staying to every other week hoping that something in the next three weeks I'll have time to write. I will keep you informed. I'm not dead yet!
Ichigo gets up early.
He scuffs his feet as he walks down the sidewalk, grumbling internally. Urahara just mentions that he'll have to leave the shop behind, and whaddya know, dad just goes and volunteers me for the job, then he doesn't tell me until more than a week later? I don't even have a clue how to run a shop...
Sighing, he pulls out the key from under the fake rock and opens the door to the shop. It's gotten dusty in Urahara's absence, and, looking around, he realizes he really doesn't have a clue what they actually sell here.
He flips on the lights and searches around for the door to the back room. It's filled with uneven stacks of boxes, and Ichigo feels a mounting sense of dread that he is going to have to go through all of them.
Ichigo checks his watch as he starts to pull open boxes at random, he only has a few minutes before he will have to leave for school. One is filled with candy, another with soul candy, one with gadgets he can't even guess the function of. Pushing more boxes aside, he finds a rack, much less dusty than the boxes, laden with cannons and guns. Ichigo can very clearly imagine Tatsuki hauling one of these over her shoulder, smashing up hollows with a maniacal grin.
His eye is caught by a sheen at the bottom of the rack, a sleek, silver pistol. Picking it up, he notices fine lines of blue accenting it, just like Uryu's Quincy uniform. He smiles faintly, stuffing the pistol in his backpack. At least he won't be defenceless.
"... though in the meantime some necessary question of the play be then to be considered. That's villainous and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready." Ichigo pauses, finally. "How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?"
He catches his breath as Chad, who is reading for Polonius (a bit of irony that Ichigo appreciates, if no one else) takes over for a moment. He sort of regrets volunteering so quickly to read for Hamlet, if not for the funny looks he got, at least for the ridiculous number of lines involved. But then again... "What ho, Horatio!"
"Here, sweet lord, at your service." Uryu practically spits the words out from between his teeth, with a face that would certainly disqualify him from any tryouts for the role. Ichigo silently thanks the infinite universe that had allowed their teacher to pick Uryu to read for Horatio, until Uryu turns to glare at him Oh god don't grin don't laugh or he'll kill you with a sewing needle and that would be a really embarrassing way to die. Finally he realizes that the class is waiting on him for his line. "Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man..."
It's a long monologue, and it flows beautifully - Ichigo has always had a soft spot for this one, even though it might not have the fame of "to be or not to be" or the blood-stirring passion of "once more unto the breach". He finds himself ignoring the classroom, the students, the teacher, the desk -
"... Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice and could of men distinguish her election, s' hath sealed thee for herself..."
He finds, to his chagrin, that he has left the book, speaking from memory, and his eyes have fallen upon Uryu. Please, understand - He is embarrassed at the thought, he bites his tongue and stares firmly back at the book. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Uryu's gaze drop.
"For thou hast been..." He continues, more stiffly, trying to focus on the page and nothing else.
The words have something different in mind, though, and his mind wanders to blood and darkness and pushed up glasses -
He doesn't realize his mistake until well after the words are out of his mouth.
"Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, as I do Uryu."
It's the little coughing splutter from Ishida that makes him realize what he's said. He blinks furiously, wishing he could will blood away from his cheeks.
Clearing his throat, he continues on. "Something too much of this..."
He is lucky that English is the last class of the day, because he has time to flee the classroom, slam his books into his locker, and hide in the restroom.
Ichigo slams his forearms down on the side of the sink and stares into the drain. What the hell is wrong with me?
A whisper seeps up from his brain: you can't tell if you want to punch him or kiss him.
"Fuck off." He growls.
Wrenching the faucet on, he splashes water on his face, trying to cool his head. Staring at the mirror, he berates himself: What the hell am I doing? Hiding out in the bathroom like a kid because I messed up a line? He shakes his head, sending droplets of water splattering the sink, and shoves the door outwards.
Ichigo barely gets five steps into the hall when he hears a voice behind him.
"Ichigo."
He turns around to spot the last person he'd expected here: Tatsuki.
"Ichigo, what the hell is going on?" She demands
God, he really can't deal with this right now. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." She folds her arms.
He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as possible, continuing to walk down the hall. "No, I don't."
"Goddammit, Ichigo," On closer examination, her eyes are red with suppressed tears, and bags droop from underneath them. "I thought we'd agreed to trust each other."
He stops, turns around, and gives an exaggerated sigh. "What's the problem?"
"Ichigo," Her voice is gentle, it barely sounds like herself. "How much do you care about him?"
"What?" He tries to laugh, it comes out like a dying albatross. "I don't see how that's a problem."
"Oh, fuck you," She swears, jerking her head back and tossing it back down. "It's your own goddamn fault you were always too dense to see it -"
"What on earth are you going on about?"
Her whole body is trembling. "She loves you!" She yells, stuttering a little, and Ichigo freezes. "She loves you," Tatsuki repeats, softly, "and I - I just want her to be happy." Tears are dripping down her face, the first explorers in new territory.
"Tatsuki -" She nearly falls forward, and he lets her lean against his shoulder, a damp patch spreading on his jacket.
"I love her." He's not even sure if he's heard it, it's so faint, lower than a whisper.
Long orange hair disappears from around a corner, and Ichigo doesn't know what to do.
He practically runs home so he'll get there before Chad, because he cannot, cannot speak with anyone more right now. He stumbles into his room, locks the door, and collapses on the bed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
He can barely settle on what to panic about first.
In my heart of heart -
How much do you care about him?
"Oh, Hell." He rolls over, flinging his head into his pillow.
I love -
"No, no, no, no, definitely no." He groans.
Well, you did kiss him. Remarks a little voice in his head.
What? He frowns into the blankets. No, no, no, I was panicking then. I was probably trying to do CPR and my brain got mixed up.
Uh huh. The inner voice, to his chagrin and frustration, sounds a lot like Rukia. And all the hand holding and thinking about how pretty his eyes are and staring at the back of his neck in class was aaall mixed up too.
Ichigo slams his head into his pillow, a gesture which is slightly less dramatic than he might have hoped. What the? I don't think his eyes are pretty!
Really? the voice adds skeptically, Are you sure about that?
Yes! Dammit.
Uh huh. The voice is perfectly unconvinced. And I'm sure you watch Bad Shield for the plot.
What the hell are you implying?
Well...
No. No, god no. Ichigo pulls his pillow over his head, as though it will block out the voice.
Oh, for god's sakes, Ichigo. And here he can practically see Rukia huffing and crossing her arms. You're acting like a child. It's nothing to be ashamed of.
"I. am. not. gay." He grinds his teeth together.
Bi, then?
Ichigo snarls into his pillow.
Honestly, Ichigo, you have beautiful women practically throwing themselves at you...
Oh, for the love of - just because I'm not Kon -
Please. You had Neliel practically in your lap in what could be charitably referred to as a loincloth -
Oh come on!
And all you were thinking about was that you were about to choke -
I was!
And you've seen Shihouin Youruichi naked -
She surprised me!
And you only felt slightly embarrassed-
I have some sense of decorum!
Whereas Ishida Uryu just has to look at you sideways and you blush like a schoolgirl.
"Oh god," He moans, sitting up and banging his head against the wall. "Shut up, shut up, shut up,"
"Nii-san?" A knock at the door, Yuzu's voice. "Are you alright?"
"Fine - I'm fine." He chokes up, hurriedly scrambling up to open the door. "What's up?"
She bites her lower lip, looking up at him. "Er, I heard you shouting, I just wanted to check. But you're okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, it was - nothing." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"Oh... okay." He forces himself to smile reassuringly. "I better get back to my homework then." He nods.
When she leaves, he shuts the door slowly, turns around and slumps into his desk chair, resting his forehead against the desk.
I thought getting home was supposed to make things easier.
"Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, as I do Uryu."
He nearly chokes.
He regrets the sound immediately, as he sees Ichigo's eyes fix back on reality, the elegant trance broken. Blood rushes to his cheeks, and Uryu knows the condition is mirrored on his own face.
It's a perfectly simple mistake, mixing up the names. A slip of the tongue. It doesn't mean anything. But the rationalization does not stop him from rushing out of the classroom, skipping his locker entirely to lock himself inside a restroom stall.
He barely has time to catch his breath before the door slams open. He freezes, he recognizes the stride, the irregular breathing.
Ichigo leans over the sink, and Uryu tries not to breathe.
"Fuck off." He hears Ichigo growl, and winces.
Water splashes into the sink, and he hears feet stomping out of the room, the door hitting its frame.
See, He was just pissed off. He embarrassed himself. It was just a mistake.
But, a particularly perceptive voice whispers, if it really was just a mistake, it wouldn't have bothered him that much. He would have just laughed it off. It would only make him angry if -
He shuts down the thought immediately; hope is a poison he refuses to swallow. Besides, he knows what he is worth, and it is nothing, nothing, compared to Ichigo.
(You do not deserve the luxury of daydreams)
Frustrated with his own weakness, he finally unlocks the stall. About to push open the restroom door, he hears shouting. "-always too dense to see it -" Arisawa.
It's Ichigo's voice that makes him keep the door a crack open, to his shame. "What on earth are you going on about?"
"She loves you!"
He drops the door, muffling the voices, and crosses the room to the sink so he can't possibly hear any more.
Water runs over his shaking hands.
"Fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," he mutters to himself. "it's fine, it's fine."
When he's sure they must be gone, he opens the door tentatively. The halls are quiet, he dashes to retrieve his forgotten textbooks from his locker.
As his feet scrape against the sidewalk, he insists to himself: This is good. Now he finally knows - now it's finally gotten through his thick skull. Now he'll go and tell Orihime and they will finally, finally end up together, and he'll be happy and she'll be happy and I'll be -
And that's where he stops, where he breaks down, because he will, he will be happy, just to watch them smile at each other, he will snipe and roll his eyes and be thrilled right down to the pit of his stomach, and he will sew her wedding dress and babysit their kids when they go on romantic getaways and will be stupidly, deliriously, sickeningly happy the whole time, and, goddammit, it would just be so much either if he could hate her and if he could get angry at him and just write the whole thing off and walk away, but he can't, he can't -
He slams his foot into a telephone pole and swears. A flock of pigeons takes off, cooing, and with two deep breaths he is Ishida Uryu again.
It's fine. I'm fine.
(He has always been a terrible liar.)
AN: Just as a sidenote, for any readers who have struggled with their sexual orientation, etc, I'm not trying to mock or demean any of these issues. The scene just happened to occur to me as funny, so… Yeah. My apologies.