A/N: Rather delayed, this one, but better late than never! -sobs over the day 30 fic that's also in the works- This one's for IR Month 2021, day 19: Things I said that I didn't mean. The prompt also applies to how this fic turned out, because it sure as hell ain't anything like I envisioned. (Also, new drinking game: take a shot every time you find a song reference.)

Months earlier, Ichigo made the decision not to attend Rukia's wedding. He made himself understand that her inviting him was an extension of the olive branch, but he could hardly feel it tapping at his face and chest. There wasn't anything to register her attempts, no matter the warm green leaves and pink peonies on the border of an invitation that reeked of Byakuya. What was color in a world paused by her icy blasts, freezing him in place as he reached for her? Without the light of a white moon, everything was black. Shadow. Cold as cold could ever dream of being.

Everyone surely expected him to move on, but that was impossible. He was frozen. All he had was the thought that she was only choosing Renji because of their history. That, and it was often easier to convince someone who already loved you that you loved them back.

Except somewhere, deep within the frost, he still loved her, too.

Some time before Ichigo was worrying over the invitation, he'd hoped his kisses would stifle Rukia's words, but they only made her furious. She smacked him hard and yelled that he wasn't taking her seriously. Of course he wasn't. She was trying to say something he never thought he'd hear. He'd burn her blasphemy out of existence.

"Even if the Soul Society actually pulled all the right strings, I can't ask you to leave your family, Ichigo," Rukia said finitely. "You've spent so much time away from all you ever needed to know, and now you're giving up your very humanity—"

"Okay, Attack on Titan," he interjected, "let's just get one thing clear before you go on. I willingly fought for the Soul Society—hell, I fought the Soul Society. And I knew exactly what I'd miss out on in the process, and now I'm ready to replace it with something else." He reached for her hand. "And I'd do it all over again—"

"Dammit, Ichigo, stop it!" Rukia shouted. She looked him right in the eye. For all her attempts at resolve, something hot melted the ice in her eyes. "Take it back, Ichigo. Take it all back. I don't want any more of this. I don't want the guilt of knowing what I've caused you to do. The fact of the matter is I'm tearing your life apart, but for some reason, you can't get that through your thick skull." She inhaled sharply. "I…I don't love you, Ichigo. Stop pretending that I do."

He started. It might be a rare thing to say, "love," but he never thought that Rukia would use it as a weapon. But his expectation only made the word cut deeper, and something frigid pulsed out from where she'd stabbed him with it. "You don't mean that," he said quietly. "You—you love me. You always have—"

"You must not know me then, if you say that." More ice crystals formed in her eyes and through his veins. "You're just insulting yourself at this point."

"Rukia—"

"Shut up, you pathetic human. And don't you dare follow me this time."

He gasped, and freezing air filled his longs, at last giving her frost purchase. It grabbed him. Held him in place as she made her exit. Preserved him in her cruelty.

Later that night, as he sat in bed, cold crawling out from his heart, he couldn't help but think that everything she'd ever done rejected what she'd told him. Hate didn't make you smile and laugh, bend you to bicker and worry, drive you to hold each other in the dark.

That could only mean she had lied. And that he'd let her.

But it was too late. She was gone, and he was frozen where she'd left him.

He went to her wedding anyway. His shoes were slightly too small, and the bowtie Orihime had insisted on retying for him felt more like a dog collar, but there he was, sitting on a chair in the immaculate courtyard of the Kuchiki shrine, waiting for the ceremony to begin. The autumn sun winked weakly at them, but Orihime took the opportunity to shine for him instead, or so she'd like to think. On she chattered about what a beautiful venue this was—like it was logical to expect anything less of a Kuchiki-owned property—, that she wanted something just like this when it came to her own wedding, that she hoped the food at the reception would be interesting. It was easy to tune her out, especially with the low rumble of glaciers in his ears.

On the dais in front of them, Renji was just moving to his spot. He shifted awkwardly on his feet in front of the seated guests, his serious face resembling that of a child warned that what they were doing was very grown-up, except they had to pee really bad. Ichigo would have laughed, but his laughter was stuck in time somewhere behind him.

A gong sounded then and chased away even the glacial rumbling. Orihime reached for her camera as something dragged Ichigo's gaze to the end of the aisle running between the chairs. Turning into the courtyard came Byakuya, looking somehow even more taciturn than usual. Beside him was a small form covered entirely in white taking small, slow steps, an ice queen making her entrance.

As Byakuya led Rukia closer, Ichigo didn't have to squint to see through her veil: if Renji was a child tasked with being an adult for the afternoon, Rukia was a child who suddenly found herself onstage before a vast audience, with nothing but the familiarity of practice pushing her forward. Her violet eyes were wide, but there wasn't a smile to mistake it for happiness. Rather, her mouth was slightly parted, and it was too easy for Ichigo to fill it with phrases like "get me out of here" and "this was a mistake."

Wait. He couldn't be thinking that. Not while frost suspended him.

Oh yes, he certainly could think these things, because there was cracking in his ears as ice sheets fell away and a sudden warmth on his face burned.

He looked up at the beating sun now bursting forth from the clouds.

He could've sworn it was black.

But Ichigo kept this to himself, even when Orihime fumbled the camera in her hands and it landed on his foot. Even when Rukia somehow didn't throw up on the aisle and shakily joined Renji on the dais. Even when Renji gripped Rukia's arm to turn her toward the shrine proper.

Then, a scroll appeared in Renji's hands, and he faced the audience again. He opened the scroll and cleared his throat, preparing to read his and Rukia's marriage pledge from it, which proposed all they'd do in their marriage to support each other and cemented the fact that Rukia was not getting married to Ichigo because she apparently didn't love him and never had?

More cracking. More rumbling.

Renji cleared his throat. "Rukia and I declare—"

"This is bullshit," Ichigo said, realizing only after the words had left his mouth that he'd said them loud enough for everyone present to hear. But he didn't give the wave of silence that chilled the courtyard long enough to linger.

"Yeah, definitely bullshit," Ichigo said. He stood from his chair, kicking the camera across the ground as he did, and began to pull at his bowtie. "Do the right thing and call it off, Renji. We all know this is a sham."

"What?" Renji said, his hands clenching the scroll. "What the hell are you on about, Kurosaki?"

"The fact that Rukia's settling and you're too much of an idiot to let her go," Ichigo said. He yanked at his bowtie, but the thing refused to loosen. "Knowing that, I really can't let this wedding happen without having my say."

"Ichigo, please," Rukia said; her voice threatened frost, but the sun evaporated her attempts in an instant. "You're only making a fool out of yourself."

A free, almost hysterical laugh erupted from his throat. "And you don't think you look stupid?"

"Don't say that about my wife!" Renji shouted, throwing the scroll to the ground.

Ichigo sneered at him. "She's not your wife. You might be close to the finish line, but don't act like she's yours just yet—"

"Ichigo, please stop," Orihime whispered beside him. She took his hand—

He yanked it away from her, still glaring at Renji as he tugged on his bowtie. "You'll never know Rukia like I do, whether you—fucking hell—" Leaving the bowtie to dangle from his neck, Ichigo shoved his way past Orihime and however many other shocked faces to the aisle. He marched up to the dais and stopped just before the stairs in front of Rukia, staring up at her profile.

"Rukia."

She did not look at him, having frozen her eyes on the sky.

"Rukia," he repeated, "you're making a huge mistake, and I can't let you do this to yourself. I love you too much—"

"Stop it!" Rukia shouted. Her eyes were wide, but just as she turned her head to look at him, something black and red slammed into her shoulder, knocking her to the ground as it continued its charge toward Ichigo—

Heat blazed for the first time in months—

"You son of a bitch!" Renji shouted, lunging for Ichigo's neck.

"When you gonna learn not to hurt Rukia!" Ichigo yelled back, his fist already slamming into Renji's nose.

It seemed the physical collision of two captain-level Shinigami was what it took to bring the guests into action, for suddenly there was a burst of activity as multiple people stormed the dais to end the fight.

Ichigo did not notice this, as his current priority was cramming his fist down Renji's throat. However, for as many blows as he dealt Rukia's lapse in judgment, nearly as many made him their target. Somewhere in the blur of fists and expletives, Ichigo paused long enough to curse himself for not taking Zangetsu to the wedding. But it was no matter: a chair would do just as well.

Just as Ichigo was shaking a chair out from the collapsed front row of seats, a series of syllables he didn't think Renji would be stupid enough to utter met his ears.

"Hado thirty-three, Sokatsui!"

So perhaps Renji was dumb enough to do it, though to his credit, his efforts to kill Ichigo would later go down as one of the largest fireballs to ever ignite in the Soul Society.

Hardly had the smoke cleared and Ichigo was being yanked backward. He smelled burnt hair that he imagined belonged to him, and his suit was in tatters; at least the damn bowtie was gone. But if he was alive, then Renji probably was too, and that meant there was still a mission to complete.

"Let me go!" he shouted, pulling against whoever's hands were dragging him around the side of the shrine. "No way that bastard's getting away with this! I'll kill him! Rukia doesn't know what she's doing! Someone—SOMEONE KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO HER!"

"Would you shut up!" a woman's voice yelled into his ear.

"SHE'S WRONG! SHE KNOWS SHE'S WRONG!"

"I said shut up!"

A hand suddenly slapped Ichigo's face. Instantly the cold was grasping at him again, and overhead just as well as within, clouds overwhelmed the sun once more.

Yoruichi shook her head as she lowered her hand to her waist. "You really don't know how to listen, do you?"

Ichigo blinked once at her before looking out at the smoking remains of the shrine. "I can't believe I did that…" he murmured.

"No, that's the pineapple's work, but you definitely didn't help."

"I ruined Rukia's wedding…."

"Yes, you did. Do you want help doing it again?"

They were but candlelight in an icy wasteland, but Ichigo clung to Yoruichi's words in the weeks it took for Byakuya to stop berating Renji for ruining his wedding preparations and finalize the damage control. Do it again, she'd said. Prevent Rukia from marrying Renji. It was a long shot that he'd even be invited to the second wedding attempt, but…the memory of the crashing ice, the break from his frozen prison, the long-awaited chance to punch the man who thought he'd make Rukia his….

The candlelight flickered, warming his fingertips.

Despite the number of burns and assorted other injuries caused by Renji's Kido, not to mention the ruined Kuchiki shrine, just one week later Byakuya sent out a round of invitations—somehow even flowerier than the first—to the second wedding attempt, to take place at the oldest and grandest shrine in the Seireitei. Ichigo's invitation arrived the day he could stop bandaging the worst of his wounds, revealing skin puckered by fire rather than frostbite, though he was surprised to see another white envelope in his hand inviting him to a video conference that very afternoon. During which Byakuya, most likely in defense of his new wedding plans, informed him that he was to contain himself at threat of the utmost pain, especially since it was Renji who insisted he attend the ceremony.

There were two conclusions Ichigo drew from this as he brooded around his candlelight afterward: 1) Renji was a dolt, and 2) Byakuya must hate having nice things.

Whatever the truth of the matter, Ichigo once again found himself in the Soul Society on the assigned date, standing beside an overly chatty Orihime as they waited to take their seats. The clouds were far denser than they had been the last time, and there was no warmth in the brisk wind that spoke more of winter than autumn. The ice encasing him groaned as its outer layers thickened. Ichigo still clung tightly to the candle inside him, but its minimal heat couldn't dream of reviving whatever confidence Yoruichi's words had given him weeks earlier. This was idiotic. No way was it possible to stop Rukia a second time. It was too late. He was still frozen...right?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Byakuya approaching, and he frowned as he turned to face him. Surely all he wanted was to remind him not to interrupt the ceremony, which at this point might just be feasible.

But as Byakuya opened his mouth to speak, a dark-skinned woman slid between him and Ichigo. "Byakuya, a word if you please?" Yoruichi asked, though she was already shoving Ichigo back and pulling Byakuya toward a less populated corner of the courtyard.

Ichigo sighed. Perhaps it was just his lot now for the world to move around him.

But just before the ceremony began, when Ichigo was already seated, Yoruichi sat beside him and leaned heavily against his arm. "I recently learned something rather interesting," she whispered, her tone curious. "You see, Byakubo just told me that Abarai actually didn't want you here."

Ichigo immediately turned his head toward her, cracking the ice that held it rigid, but she forced him to look forward again and resumed her whispering.

"Funnily enough, it was Rukia who wanted you here. Actually, to use Byakubo's exact phrasing, she 'insisted.' Kinda funny if you ask me…almost like she wanted you to try and interrupt again…."

"You're lying," Ichigo murmured. "Why—why would he say that—"

Yoruichi pulled away from him then, just in time for the Shinto priest to take his place on the dais. The low thrum of conversation dipped into silence as the gong sounded, and everyone kept an eye on the end of the aisle.

Once again looking as comfortable in his montsuki as a fish out of water, Renji appeared at the end of the aisle, his mouth tight. He marched forward at an even speed, but he slowed just enough when he passed Ichigo to give him the most subtle of glares.

Now, Ichigo thought as the candlelight blazed, if Yoruichi was lying, meaning Renji really did want him there, why would he glare like that? Wouldn't a surly nod be more appropriate, or maybe a reserved smile if he was actually that happy to see the man who had interrupted his last attempt at marriage? Hell, wouldn't he have taken him to the side before all this to ensure there were no hard feelings? Of course he would, so it could only be true that having Ichigo back for round two was Rukia's idea, not Renji's. Which meant she was lying about not loving him.

Ichigo heard rushing water, and something began to boil in his veins, which he actively pushed down for clarity as Renji joined the priest on the dais. Okay, okay, so Renji hadn't insisted on his invitation, but maybe it wasn't Rukia either? Shit, maybe Byakuya was the one who did it, not that it would make sense to do so.

Whatever excuse Ichigo was willing to give Rukia vanished the second she came into view. Beside her, Byakuya still looked unusually distant, while she had that same deer-in-the-headlights look about her. Frozen in expectation. Scared and powerless against the speed of the world.

Later, Ichigo felt that he would have kept his cool had Rukia not tripped over her uchikake while climbing the stairs to the dais. Except she did trip, and while his angle didn't give him a full view of her face, he saw enough of her profile to read terror.

So he vaulted over the people blocking him from the aisle and charged the dais.

"You're not getting away with this!" Ichigo roared as he pulled back his fist, an inferno evaporating whatever ice dared to linger.

Renji had just enough time to form a sneer before he had his front teeth knocked out.

It felt like two seconds later that several pairs of hands were pulling him from Renji, all screaming for him to stop. Did that mean they agreed with Renji that Rukia was not to marry the actual love of her life? Because if it was, he was ready to fight them all, which he didn't realize he was already doing until he took an uppercut to the chin.

But before Ichigo could return the favor, he was ripped away from all pairs of hands save for one that pulled him far, far away from the courtyard, the world passing in a blur on either side of them until they made it to a deserted garden that could've been anywhere.

Once they touched ground, Yoruichi let go of Ichigo, panting lightly with her hands on her knees. "You really know how to take the wind out of me," she grumbled.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and balled up his fists. "Next time just let me stay so I can finally—"

"No no no, no murder," Yoruichi said. "Though I'm guessing you won't be invited back for the third try…."

Ichigo opened his mouth to respond, but the gesture only let a chill back inside of him. Immediately ice crystals began to form around him. Yeah, he was definitely not invited to Renji and Rukia's next wedding. He blew this final chance. He'd never make Rukia see reason, live out the rest of his life at her side….

Yoruichi's light steps drew closer to him, and she punched his arm. "Hey, no need to look so glum," she said. "I only said you weren't getting an invitation."

"I know, Yoruichi…" he mumbled, rubbing his arm where she'd hit him. "That's the problem…."

She scoffed. "Problem?"

He pursed his lips and shivered as frost encased him again, whispering of Rukia's rejection. "Yeah, a problem…you need an invitation to get in…"

Yoruichi crossed her arms. "No you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you really don't."

"Yes, I really do—"

"Oh, fine, I'll lay it out for you! Gods, you're dense…."

The Kuchiki shrine now back in order, Renji and Rukia's third attempt at a peaceful wedding ceremony was underway. The December sky portended snow, but that didn't put a damper on the guests' spirits, or their apprehension. Not that it was their fault they'd been conditioned to keep an eye on the chair next to Orihime's.

But thankfully, at least to them, a certain orange-haired human from the World of the Living was absent from the ceremony. Indeed, Renji and Rukia had both made it to the dais and stayed in one piece this time. They even managed to go into the shrine's chamber to write and sign their marriage pledge, which they soon returned to the dais to read. Rukia wouldn't look any of them in the eye, but surely that was just to savor the moment. As for Renji, his eyes were busy reading off the pledge. The only thing that could possibly ruin the moment was a distant shout, something like "men soup blah Ned show," but it was far enough away that it couldn't possibly affect them.

As if in agreement with the happy couple's luck, the sun broke through the clouds overhead, shining right down on the dais. People sighed in happiness, and to hide their watering eyes at the blatant show of devotion before them—never mind that the bride had started to hyperventilate—many looked up at the sky. They admired the sun for a moment, only to feel a slow frown forming on their faces. Because the sun wasn't usually blue. Or crescent-shaped. Or barreling toward them like this was to be their last day alive—

The first Getsuga Tensho slammed into the newly rebuilt shrine, raining splintered wood and ceremonial sake on everyone in the courtyard. Hardly had the dust settled from the first when another came racing down, then another, and then another when Renji still wasn't dead. In fact, it became very clear to everyone after a short while that other than a few cuts and bruises from the initial impact, they had very little to worry about, as the attacks were clearly targeted. They didn't stop until the bride, whose hyperventilation was a thing of the past, held up her hands and declared, "ENOUGH! WE'RE NOT DOING THIS TODAY!"

Instantly, the sky was no longer falling, and the work of seeing to the injured, wondering when the fourth attempt would be, and steering clear of the absolutely livid Kuchiki Byakuya could begin.

It took enormous effort for Yoruichi not to look up at the sky and smirk.

It became a routine, really. All throughout the remainder of autumn and the depths of winter, Yoruichi would sneak him into the Soul Society, thaw him out, and he'd start blasting once Renji thought he was in the clear. He'd keep it up until Rukia declared the end of her however many-eth wedding attempt or, after a while, once Byakuya's specially hired guards chased him off. Rinse and repeat. Do it all over again. Whatever it took to keep the fire in his gut fueled and Rukia's ice at bay, even for just an hour.

So it came as a bit of shock when, five wedding attempts later in the early spring, Rukia stepped over Renji's freshly unconscious form, glared up at the sky, and shouted, "Get down here right now, Ichigo!"

For all his desire to do just that, Ichigo hesitated. This wasn't part of the routine…a cold wind drifted through his heart—

"ICHIGO."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," he grumbled as he jumped down from the roof of a neighboring building into the shrine courtyard, this one in the heart of an upper Rukon district; Byakuya must've gotten desperate enough to move the ceremony out of the Seireitei entirely. Ichigo patted the dust off his shihakusho as he approached Rukia, who was glaring hard at him. Her once white and shimmering uchikake was now covered in a distinct layer of grime, and it seemed wilted from its frequent wears and launderings. The bottom was also torn in several places, as if Rukia had stepped on it many times over or moved quickly to dodge something—which she had.

Somehow, this made her more approachable. She was not a frigid ice queen, pristine and aloof, but a soldier, battle-worn and alert. This was the woman he knew, not that fake thing that told lies.

As Ichigo finally stepped before her, he glanced to his right at the guests. Those who weren't seeing to the injured or stomping from the courtyard ranting about wanting a wedding and not a battlefield for once were staring at him warily, though none seemed especially eager to get the bride away from him. Well, except Byakuya and a handful of guards, who were speeding toward him.

"Byakuya, this isn't personal," he said, holding up his hands. "Just give me—oh..."

Yoruichi, ever attentive, raced up beside Byakuya and used her momentum to swing him in the opposite direction, knocking into the guards as she did so. "Byakubo, have you done something new with your hair?" she asked as she tugged him away. She waved a hand behind her at Ichigo.

Ichigo almost smiled but turned back to Rukia when she grabbed his sleeve, forcing a stab of cold through the fabric and into his arm.

"I can't believe you," Rukia growled as she dragged him to the shrine's inner chamber, which she and Renji hadn't even had the chance to enter. Indeed, the scroll on which they'd write their marriage pledge afresh was still blank, the ink stone beside it full of clear water.

Rukia shoved him into a chair and crossed her arms, her glare never wavering. "I get you're trying to send a message, but this is getting ridiculous," she said. "So just tell me what's going on."

Ichigo swallowed. She might no longer look the part, but her words were still icicles stabbing through him, forcing the words from him. He sighed as he leaned Zangetsu against the wall, but the gesture broke their eye contact. It was that much easier to breathe as heat defrosted his lungs and throat, and he even managed to lean back in his chair. "You can't tell me you don't know what I'm doing," he said quietly. "It's not like I've made a secret of it."

"The only thing I know you're doing is needlessly attacking Renji whenever we try to get married," Rukia said.

"And what does that tell you?"

She rolled her eyes. "That you need to get over yourself, maybe? That I'm marrying him whether you like it or not?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Do you like it?"

Rukia looked away, and her hands clenched into indignant fists at her sides. "That doesn't concern you. Just know that it's happening."

It was happening—the ice was clutching at him again, pushing him ever closer toward a state of still. With every ounce of concentration, he shook his head to free it of frost. "It does concern me, Rukia. Why are you doing this?"

"J-just drop it! Forget I even said anything about it…."

He clenched his jaw, clinging to the matchlight grasped between his fingers. "You have to tell me, Rukia," he said in a rush, before the heat leeched from him. "I won't stop until I know you're happy. And don't even think about telling me you'd actually do this to yourself just because you think it's for the best—"

"You're still on about that?" Rukia said, but her voice was suddenly quieter. "Ichigo, I thought I made myself clear."

"Crystal," he said shakily, and he swallowed. What was heat, where could he find it in this wasteland….

She sighed and leaned against the table that held her blank marriage pledge. "Ichigo—"

"Are you happy?" he pushed out, daring to look at her.

His daring paid off: her eyes were angry and, above all else, confused.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Answer me," he demanded. He kept his gaze trained on her furrowed brow, her clenching and unclenching hands gripping the table, the once and then twice that she swallowed.

He heard distant roaring.

"I'm fine, Ichigo," she said. "Really."

As the roaring grew, the grip of the ice around him shattered.

"Don't worry about me. I-I'll be okay."

"I'm going to prove you wrong, you know," he said as fire at last overpowered the frost.

Rukia's frown deepened, but the expression was more sad than exasperated. "What will you prove me wrong about?"

"The fact that you think you need to tell me you don't love me and run off to marry someone else," he said. "You don't know how unbelievably stupid that is—"

"Oh, Ichigo, give it a rest," Rukia said, turning away from him. "I'm…content with Renji. Accept that."

"I would if it were true." He rose from his chair, but didn't yet approach her. "You look like you're about to throw up every time you walk down the aisle. You hardly look at Renji the entire ceremony. That doesn't sound like happiness to me."

"I-it's just wedding day nerves," Rukia insisted, still not looking at him.

"You've done this enough times now. You're not afraid anymore—"

She talked right over him. "We've already done the paperwork—"

"You know a marriage is more than a sheet of paper—"

"N-Nii-sama has offered to make the Abarai family a cadet branch—"

"Like hell he did—"

"For crying out loud, Ichigo, I don't love you!"

And with these words, Ichigo at last stepped right up to Rukia, leaning over her even as her nervous eyes stared at him, her shoulders shook, her lip trembled. "Why do you feel like you have to do this?" he nearly shouted. "You're not helping anyone and only hurting yourself. You might not love me, but you don't love Renji either, and the fact of the matter is you never will!" He inhaled sharply. "I don't care if I have to interrupt every single wedding of yours, I won't stop until you quit lying and let yourself be happy! Completely happy!"

Rukia gasped up at him. He saw her grasping for words, but he knew there was not one she would say now.

The chamber door suddenly opened wide. They both snapped their eyes over to it as Yoruichi stepped into the doorframe and raised her eyebrows at them with vague interest. "Just a friendly reminder that there's still a bunch of guests out there waiting for what comes next, though survey says they'd prefer no bloodshed this time," she said.

There was a tense pause, but sighing heavily, Rukia broke it. "We'll be out shortly."

"Fabulous," Yoruichi said. Her head slipped out of view, and the door closed behind her.

Rukia slowly looked back to him.

Ichigo did not once look away from her.

Rukia watched him carefully, hesitantly. "…You're really not going anywhere, are you?"

He shook his head.

"Even though I told you the worst things I could think of?"

He allowed himself the smallest smirk. "You didn't mean it. You never did."

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "I can read between the lines. Also, I do actually know you, no matter what you say."

Rukia smiled but briefly. "I'm still worried about taking you from your family—"

"They're your family too, whether you like it or not. Remember, 'third daughter.'"

"You're throwing away your chance at a normal life."

"I never had one to begin with."

Slowly, her violet eyes began to brighten, as if released. "You're the dumbest person I know, Kurosaki Ichigo," Rukia said.

He reached for her hand—it was not cold—and then all of her. "No dumber than you."

"That's fair," Rukia said as he enveloped her at last in his arms. "Oh, hell, Ichigo…I'm so sorry…."

"That can wait," he said. His chin brushed against her hair ornaments, but he didn't care if he displaced them or if they pushed into his skin. He was just happy to feel again, to know that Rukia accepted his disruptions.

Gently, Ichigo pulled away from Rukia and tilted her head up. Her eyes were now glistening, though remaining ice kept the glistening from morphing into tears. This only made him lean down, determined to kiss away the frigid rigidity that pushed her to care so much she wound up hurting herself in the process. Her selflessness was her strength and her weakness, just as his selfishness was his.

It felt like as soon as their lips met that an enraged cry echoed outside the shrine and something banged against the chamber door.

Her groan muted by their kiss, Rukia pulled away. "I think Renji's awake again," she said warily, eyeing one of her torn sleeves with mild disgust.

Ichigo smirked as he reached for Zangetsu's hilt. "Perfect," he said. "I've crashed plenty of his weddings. It's only fair to let him crash mine now."

"You say that like we're getting married today."

"You mean we're not?"

"…You mean we are?"

"If only for Byakuya's sake. He's actually a really good wedding planner, though maybe a little heavy on the flowers, not that that's so surprising, we are talking about Byakuya here…."

Rukia eyed him carefully, like he might next suggest they go skinny-dipping with sharks. "…Remind me again why I love you?" she said.

Ichigo smiled. "I love you too," he said. He opened the shrine door. As he met Renji head on for what he knew better than to call the last time, he knew he would never be cold again.