Disclaimer: I don't own it, please don't sue.

She has gone and changed on you. Her hair is still as black and her eyes as blue and her frame is still teeny tiny, but in the this short space of time she has morphed into something different. You only wish you knew what.

There are no emergencies tonight, no fires to put out or hollows to put down, so you let yourself relax a little-- as much as the sense of this near stranger walking beside you in the twilight will allow. No, you shake your head. She's not a stranger. Her scent is the same, as is her light, catlike gait. She is silent, but that's normal for her when she doesn't feel like irritating you. Which is rare.

You want to ask her again. You've wanted to all day. But wherever you were, she made a point of not being there. You have the feeling that if you hadn't managed to corner her in the hall on the way out, she wouldn't even be here now. She is a hider. She is smart, very smart. And she is stubborn. She doesn't want to say the words. She will go to any lengths to avoid it. That's why she's silent.

And you can't stand it anymore.

"What are you thinking about?"

She looks at you, appraising, her eyebrows arched in a way that would have warned of a smackdown in the past. "Did you enjoy your lunch?"

"It was okay." Of course it was. She's quite the chef, sweet little Yuzu of the soft eyes and light brown hair. A bad lunch from her is an excellent lunch from anywhere else.

"I couldn't eat mine. I let Renji have it. He might come and eat with us sometime."

"Oh, joy." You can't contain the sarcasm and she knows it.

"Yeah. He can talk with his mouth full while your dad fights him for the soy sauce. It'll be a match we could charge admission for." And then she giggled. And you look at her, and dammit, she really is smiling. This is bad in soooo many ways, you think.

And she's looking at you and you know she's about to laugh. How? And fuck, why? But she doesn't laugh. The smile stays put though. "Do you have much to do tonight?"

"Not really. Why?"

"There's something I need to do."

Two drawings on white paper with soft lead. She's still terrible but she's gotten better, and maybe it's because she's not drawing bunnies. The first was of you in your regular clothes, sitting at your desk with your chin in your hand. She made you close your eyes a little bit. "You look better sleepy," she told you.

"Couldn't Kon have done this?"

"Yeah, like you want that pervert roaming around in your body for this." Damn her, she's right. She is cross legged on the floor, and her brow is furrowed. She is trying hard, really hard, and you know you would have regretted refusing to pose for her. In fact, in light of last night, you would not have even objected to posing naked.

You shift a little. Damn puberty. It's always got to get a word in edgewise. But it's not as though you haven't thought about the kiss all day. Because you have, from breakfast on. The thoughts followed a circular repeating pattern. You kissed her last night, and you think she even kissed you back a little. Why did you kiss her? What difference does it make why; it was damn good and you can't wait to do it again! Kisskisskisskisskiss. And then some heavy petting. Definitely. And when it's all over and she has done the deed and your life is ebbing away, you can think to yourself you didn't completely die a virgin. Technically. And why the hell is it so easy to accept dying? Jeez that's fucked up. But you kissed her! And she might have even kissed you back a little!

The eraser striking the side of your head signals the end of the first sketch. She gets points for accuracy, you think as you stand and stretch. But then there's the flicker in the corner of you eye and you don't see her coming at you with that damned glove until it's too late, your body is on the floor and you're standing before her in your shinigami form, Zangetsu cool and familiar at your back.

"What the hell, Rukia?"

"I want to have both." She's already turned the page in her notebook and is situating herself on your bed. She looks up at you, intent. "Be still."

And so you are still for a long while, which is a feat for you, until eventually your body relaxes and your mind starts to wander. And so do your eyes. She's not wearing Yuzu's clothes anymore. Her shirt is short sleeved and red, her jeans low cut and deep denim blue. Almost as dark as her eyes. As your gaze wanders up her legs and to her midriff you take in breath at the sight of her exposed belly. Hmmmmmmmm. She's hot as hell and you're not just thinking that because she's the first female you've ever taken liberties with. And as the examination moves upward you catch the sight of her tongue tip poking slightly out between those lips. Damn puberty. Your mind wanders to greener fields in which the shirt is lower cut and you're close enough to touch.

"There."

You look up at her and she is closing the notebook.

"That was fast."

"I'm not that good. What were you thinking about?"

"Allankars," you say.

"You want to do an allankar?" She makes a face and points at your crotch. You feel yourself go crimson, and thankfully, the embarrassment is enough to drive away all signs of your being worked up. You sigh and hang your head.

But she is smiling. Again. "I will do it," she said. "If it comes to that." Then why the hell is she smiling? "But you have to promise me something."

Always a catch with her. She stands and stretches, limber as a willow branch, and comes close to you. You try to avoid her eyes. "Do you know what just happened?" She asks.

Well... yeah, duh. But you can't say it aloud. Just can't. But then she is coming forward and up, until she is close enough to lean forward and touch her lips to yours. And it's not soft. It's hard and hot and you can barely stand it when she pulls away. And looks at you. And, dammit, smiles again.

"You're still alive. You're here and you're warm and you can't fight that. And if you want to, you can stay that way. And if you stay that way, I can stay here." She puts her hand on your chest, just above where your heart is doing some weird breakdance. "I'll end it if he takes you, but you have to promise it'll never come to that."

And as you look at her you know she's turned the tables on you. It's your choice. Exist for death or exist to live. And your pubescent nature helped her to do it. Damn puberty. But no, this is how it is, and you're the one who makes the promise. And she smiles at you again and you get to do a little heavy petting.

Later, when she isn't looking, you peek at the pictures. They're awful. But you can see yourself in them, and the you that is there is a living, breathing being. The you she once told you she held in her heart. And you know your job now is to keep yourself there. That's just fucked up, you think.