Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Really.

Author's Notes: Just wrote up a little drabble. Ichigo/Rukia.

Simple Question

It all started with such a simple question.

"I'm never going to be anything but a shinigami to you, am I?"

She reminded him so much of a child, standing there in pajamas and a white bunny dangling from her fingertips. What made her different from a child was her expression…so carefully blank, looking past him and through the windowpanes. It sometimes scared him; how much she could look like a kid, and how much she couldn't.

He glanced away from her face and shifted from his seat on the windowsill. Farther away from her. She didn't seem to notice, and her expression seemed even emptier now. And his throat went dry. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

She sighed and said softly, "Am I a girl to you, Ichigo?"

"A girl? Of course you're a girl…"

"To you, Ichigo."

He blinked, startled. The woman was incomprehensive. "Yeah…you are."

"A girl who you can consider a relationship with? A girl who you can talk to normally? A girl who you can date?" Her face was changing, rapidly, from vacant to sad, and then anger. And a small smile appeared on her lips. "Or am I just a shinigami? Nothing but a shinigami?"

Oh. So that was what she meant. And, before he knew it, he was laughing. Laughing, as a feeling overtook his senses and drowned and twisted them in a whirlpool of confusion, and he knew he shouldn't have. He knew as soon as her face contorted into an angry frown and her eyebrows knit together on her forehead.

And she slapped him, cut his laugh short, and the slap burned like a hot iron to his cheek. He flung a hand out to get his balance as he nearly fell out of the window, more surprised than hurt. And he heard her breathing, hot and heavy in the room, and was mad. Madder than she'd ever been at him.

"Don't you ever," she flared at him, "laugh at me again."

Something sparked inside him. Anger. Fury. He couldn't decide which. Before she'd even finished her sentence, he'd stood up, looked down at her. She stared up at him, defiant and her eyes burning into his. And there was hate. Hate, resentment, and…affection. And he realized just how much he loved her eyes.

Maybe it was what made him kiss her.

He tasted her lips, soft and warm under his, and he pressed against her, harsh and angry. She gave a small gasp, which he stifled as he placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her to him. It lasted for only a few seconds, and he heard the soft thump as the rabbit fell to the floor, the rush of air in his ears as she wrenched herself away from him, ran into the closet, and slammed it shut.

Leaving him there with nothing but a stuff bunny at his feet, with a soft tingle on his lips and a question ringing in his ears.

"I'm never going to be anything but a shinigami to you, am I?"

And he wondered if she really wanted it to be that way.

End