Disclaimer: Bleach is a manga created by Kubo Tite, published in Shonen Jump, and Viz Comics. This fanfic is all me though.

Close Encounters

A Bleach Fanfiction

By: Shun'u

II: Cherry Blossoms in the Summer

The day was crisp; this year spring clung to her mornings. Evidence of her presence lay in the moist blanket of dewdrops that glistened beneath the rising sun. The days were warm in mid-summer, just shy of being uncomfortable, and yet the mornings still began with a slight chill in the air. By mid morning all evidence of the evening were gone as moisture vaporized and heat beat down upon the citizens of Japan. A slight haze could be seen shimmering above the ground in particular areas of Tokyo with poor air circulation. As Ichigo walked the streets, heading home after having picked up tofu for Yuzu to make miso soup with, he noted that women were beginning to carry parasols to protect themselves from the glaring sun. The ground ate up all of that heat, shoring it up for the coming autumn and winter.

Summer solstice had come and gone with barely a footnote of recognition, and the days were once again beginning to shorten though the difference in time was barely noticeable as of yet. The cherry blossoms that symbolized spring and the samurai spirit had long ago fallen. Now nothing was left upon the modest trees but lush green leaves that created an umbrella of foliage above the roots that spread beneath its shade.

Ichigo wondered if Rukia had discovered perfume yet in her ongoing studies of human behavior. When he had first met her he hadn't really paid that much attention. The weather this year had been unusual, not even beginning to warm until late into April. As a result the cherry blossoms hadn't bloomed until May rolled around. When Ichigo met the little shinigami there were still sakura mochi being sold, and plenty of sakura scented soaps and candles in the stores. Because the scent of cherry blossoms was everywhere, Ichigo hadn't noticed. It wasn't until later when Yuzu and Karin mentioned something in passing that he realized why the cherry blossoms were still in full bloom for him.

"Ichigo, have you started using a different soap?" Yuzu asked him as he rummaged through the cabinet for snacks.

Luck was with him and he snatched up a couple of juice boxes, a box of tomato pretz, and a bag of cheese curls. Stuffing the juice boxes into his track jacket pockets, Ichigo passed by Yuzu on his way upstairs. It took him a minute to register the question Yuzu had asked him.

"Hm?" Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and wondered what his little sister was talking about. "No, why?"

Karin glanced up from her pop music magazine. She had offered to help Yuzu make dinner but her younger sister was rather adamant about doing the chore herself, so now she found herself just passing time reading about the latest j-pop albums to be released.

"His whole room smells like it. Maybe its potpourri or something," she said. Unable to stop herself from egging on her brother, Karin added, "Don't you think that's a little girly, Ichigo?"

Having no clue as to what they were discussing, Ichigo looked from one to the other suspiciously. His little sisters might have looked like little angels to an outsider, but Ichigo knew better. As much as he adored them there were times when he would rather face a horde of Hollows than face off with the pair of them – especially if they were working in conjunction with one another.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" he asked warily.

Isshin chose that moment to enter the room. He heard Ichigo's question and immediately tackled his son into a rather painful looking head lock. The rambunctious man ignored his son's grunts of pain at the awkward contortions this forced his body into.

"Ichigo! Don't swear in front of your adorable sisters!"

"Aah! That hurts old man!" Ichigo bent at the knees and grabbed his father's arm before he dropped his weight and threw the overly excitable Kurosaki over his shoulder. "What the hell did you attack me for?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your language in front of Karin and Yuzu?" Isshin yelled. The doctor grabbed his hair and tugged until it stood up on end in all directions. Fake tears made their way down Isshin's whiskered cheeks.

"Oh, their poor minds will be corrupted!" he wailed. "How can I ever face Masaki in the afterlife?"

"Daddy," Karin interjected, calmly flipping another page of her magazine, "we're already corrupted."

"Nooo! My poor babies!"

Ichigo watched with a scowl as his father fell into his usual melodramatic diatribe. He let out a puff of air, in equal parts disgusted by and resigned to the inevitability of such behavior from his father.

"Sheesh, Pops, you're the one who's corrupting them. Stop being such an idiot and calm down."

"Ano," Yuzu waved the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the soup. She smiled apologetically to dispel some of the building tension between the two males of the household, "It's okay daddy. We're used to Ichigo swearing all the time."

Karin snorted as Yuzu mediated and worked her soothing magic to calm their father down. She shook her head, resigned to the fact that her family easily classified as dysfunctional. Ichigo was at the head of the staircase, heading to the relative peace of his room, before she dropped her magazine and caught up with him.

"Ichigo, do you have any more of that sakura potpourri?"

"Hm?" Ichigo looked over his shoulder at his sister strangely. "I don't have any potpourri."

Karin cocked her hip to the side and crossed her arms. "Well, whatever it is that you use to scent up your room: oils, incense, whatever. Do you have any extra?"

Ichigo frowned as he continued down the hallway. "I don't use anything. Ask Yuzu if she has something. She's the one who does the household shopping."

"Huh, I wonder if Yuzu's right." Karin said thoughtfully as her brother disappeared around the corner to his room, in all likelihood looking to escape from any further melodrama. Her lips pursed, "Maybe he does use a special soap. Wonder where he got it from. It smells nice. Still girly though."

It wasn't until Ichigo got to his room that he realized why his sisters had been asking their questions. The scent of cherry blossoms was delicate but it was there from the moment he came upon his closed door with the old wood "15" sign still hanging on it from when Karin and Yuzu had presented it to him on his 15th birthday last year. The smell of full bloom sakura permeated every corner of his room. Ichigo walked from corner to corner to locate its source - certain that there had to be a logical reason for his bedroom to smell like flowers that were no longer in season. Then it dawned on him what the source might be as he traced the scent to its strongest point: the closet.

Ichigo continued to sniff the air. The closet was indeed the source of the soft scent. He couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed until now. Knocking lightly, he waited for a response from his roommate.

The door slid open shortly. Rukia's fingers appeared first as they were wrapped around the door edge. Then little by little the rest of her was revealed sitting cross legged with a book open in her lap. Kon lay napping at her side. She had changed out of her school uniform, but instead of wearing pajamas or one of her many dresses as he expected she was wearing a pale blue jog suit with white trimming. Ichigo was momentarily startled by her appearance. She almost looked like a normal teenager dressed casually as she was, except that instead of the fifteen that she was pretending to be she looked to be about twelve years old with her big eyes and too fragile bones.

"Ichigo?" she tilted her head and looked up at him. "What's the matter?"

Ichigo didn't respond. Instead he poked his head inside the closet and… sniffed? Rukia might not have been very familiar with human customs, but she was fairly certain that this was not normal behavior.

"Are you sniffing the closet?" she asked incredulously.

"What are you using, air freshener?"


It took her a moment to connect his question to his odd behavior. "No, I'm not. What do you smell for?"

"Cherry Blossoms," he replied absently as he continued sniffing around the small space.

Rukia edged back when his head followed his nose right past her to reach the far corner of his closet. When he immediately swiveled back she yelped and backed up as much as the confined space would allow. He frowned at her and sniffed a little closer. A confused look crossed his visage when suddenly he reared back and jabbed a finger in her direction.

"It's you!" he accused.

"Wh- what?" Rukia asked, completely lost as to what precisely he was accusing her of.

"You're the one who smells like Cherry Blossoms," he elaborated with a deep frown. "And you're making the rest of my room smell like it too. Stop using so much of that stuff."

"What stuff?" she asked in exasperation.

It took a minute for Ichigo to process her question and the utter confusion in her face. A tiny suspicion began to form in his mind.

"Rukia," he began cautiously, "do you know what perfume is?"

"Perfume?" she asked, that trademark childlike curiosity of hers piqued. "What is that?"

Ichigo's head drooped until his chin hit his chest. He began rubbing at his temple to dispel what was certain to be the beginnings of a monster migraine.

"Never mind," he said, suddenly feeling tired. "You can't help it."

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Rukia started in her voice of impending doom. Ichigo could almost see dark clouds forming around her head as she declared with an imperious air, "You have five seconds to explain yourself."

Ichigo grimaced. Having Rukia around was almost like having an older sister, now that he thought of it. Who else would be able to say his whole name in quite that way that made him feel like a recalcitrant child?

"It's a," he fumbled for an appropriate word, "it's like scented water," he finally said, feeling a bit put out for having to explain anything at all.

"Scented water?" Rukia repeated. She was beginning to grasp why he had been behaving as he had. "What does it smell like?"

"Whatever you want," Ichigo said, relieved at her ready acceptance of his answer. "There are different types."

"I see," Rukia nodded. "And where might I acquire this perfume?"

He had known that was coming. Rukia never accepted a simple explanation. Something in her always wanted to experience for herself what she learned through reading or observation.

"In department stores," he said warily, wondering if Rukia had ever been to one of those before. Of course she proved his suspicions true. Ichigo muffled a groan as those midnight eyes lit up in gleeful anticipation of a new adventure.

"Department stores?"

That was when he had bolted. Nothing, absolutely nothing could induce him to go shopping with Rukia. Not torture, maiming, nor the threat of death could force him to take the shinigami into a department store. Just imagining the headaches such an event would cause had his head spinning. And so, despite his heroics and bravery in the face of evil Hollows and possible death, Ichigo conceded to the lesser evil and moved to escape from the dreaded department store question and inevitable shopping expedition.

That was when fortune had smiled upon him and had the cell phone ringing shrilly to announce the arrival of yet another Hollow. The alarm was sufficient distraction for Rukia, and they had both jetted out of Ichigo's second story window to pursue their foe.

Ichigo stared up at his ceiling, contemplating the complexities of his life. Two months and counting, he was tasked with being a Soul Reaper. So far as he was aware, Rukia had not recuperated all of her dark power yet. Although she was still fully able to use her kidô and other skills, her ability to be a Soul Reaper was next to non-existent. And as the days passed he was becoming more accustomed to his role as a Soul Reaper.

It wasn't so bad; this business of returning Hollows to the Soul Society, except that it was cutting severely into his sleep time. Not to mention his friends and family were gradually being drawn into this mess as well. Guilt gnawed at him. He hadn't intended for any of them to become involved at all, let alone have their latent abilities flare to life. Now not only Karin, but also Chad, Orihime, and Tatsuki were waking to their abilities. Minor though they were, they were just enough to get them all into trouble.

The complications kept getting more and more tangled.

Ichigo closed his eyes, suddenly weary to the bone. Rukia had gone directly to the Urahara Shoten after school to charge up her gigai, and for once there weren't any Hollow activities to be seen. He had taken advantage of his down time to catch up on his studies and then sat down to a family dinner that was so rare for him nowadays. Now he was replete and drowsy. Ichigo let his thoughts drift off and burrowed into his bed, wishing that for once he could fall asleep like a normal person, but knowing that he would not until he knew Rukia was back.

Unaware that she was taking away from Ichigo's rest, Rukia was sitting on the windowsill outside Ichigo's bedroom. She gazed up at the stars that were starting to peek out from behind the dark blanket of nightfall. Cicadas were calling out to one another, creating a cacophony of sound. Rukia found it strangely pleasant to be able to stargaze without interference, and the reassurance that the people she watched over were safe lent to her peace of mind.

A gust of wind blew a lock of black hair free from its normal place in her typically neat coiffure. Rukia tucked it behind her ear automatically, not really caring for anything other than to displace it from her eyes. Another gust followed the first, sending a chill up Rukia's arms straight into her chest. She shivered and rubbed arms vigorously with slim hands. Despite the activity her limbs remained chilled. Rukia sighed, wishing she had thought to bring a sweater with her. Despite the heavy warmth of summer her gigai was prone to chills unless sufficiently covered, reminding Rukia once more of her displeasure at the weaknesses of her temporary body. As a shinigami she had never been victim to the weather.

Rukia brought her feet up to the windowsill, careful not to make any sound, conscious of the fact that Ichigo was a light sleeper despite his unwillingness to rise in the morning at his father's bidding. Edging the window up ever so slowly, Rukia slid into the warm room. Closing the window behind her, she tiptoed around the bed and its inhabitant to the closet. A creak of the floorboard had her freezing up and taking a peek at her involuntary roommate. Noting the even rise and fall of his chest beneath the covers Rukia released a silent breath of relief. Ichigo got so few opportunities to rest nowadays that she took extra care not to disturb him when they managed to get a reprieve from Soul Reaper duties. Not that she would ever admit to such a thing if questioned. She preferred that he think of her as a demanding taskmaster; one that kept him on his toes. A Soul Reaper on constant high alert was a successful Soul Reaper – and a live one if she could help it.

Settling into her makeshift futon after swiftly changing into Yuzu's borrowed pajamas, Rukia stared up at the wooden ceiling. Tomorrow she would begin teaching Ichigo how to do kidô. He had to learn how to heal himself for the time when she wouldn't be there to heal him.

Black lashes swept down to conceal midnight eyes, and Rukia allowed the sandman to steal her away. Almost instantly falling into a deep sleep, she never felt the careful hands that brought her comforter up to her chin and tuck it securely around her. The shivers that had been racking her frame dispelled beneath the warmth and her body relaxed into the boneless state that only true comfort could bring forth.

Author's Notes: Maa, ne. Not much action in this chapter. More will happen in the next one.