Author's Notes: I apologize for the late update. The really, really late update. I was having writer's block for the longest period of time – it was the worst kind of writer's block; the sort that made you start writing something for around three to five lines, then realize what you typed was utter bullshit but then you still kinda liked the idea, and so you saved it under your Fanfiction folder and never continued it ever again. To add on to that, school was a total unfriendly bitch and made me want to gnaw on all the homework that was piled onto us. And now I'm babbling. Anyway, I know my reasons aren't good enough for making you guys wait so long for a new chapter. Again, my sincere apologies. I suck. ):

Whiteout.
Pondering.

Eight o'clock in the morning – Ichigo stood behind the bar, squeezing a rag through the mouth of a beer mug to wipe it dry after washing. Usually, the washing was done at the back of the bar, so that the counter remained "sacred", as quoted from Matsumoto Rangiku. The orange-head preferred to think that she just didn't like soaking her hands in a mix of murky water and soap suds; his employer mixed the drinks for their customers most of the time, because they loved to see her strut down as she slid her drinks across the smooth wooden surface to them, and that meant that she never had the "time" to visit the soiled utensils and the sink.

But today was different.

On normal days (working days), the bar was usually empty from eight to nine in the morning. When the minute hand of the old-fashioned clock that hung on the wall struck five minutes past nine, a lone customer would stroll in and sink into a chair at the counter before telling Rangiku what he wanted. As the minutes ticked by, more and more people would file in, some in groups, but most solitary. Not all of them ordered alcohol, because Wjinruit was more of a mix between a restaurant and a bar, and offered a pretty wide selection of food as well.

But today, the bar had a grand total of… Ichigo glanced up and counted the number of people seated before him, merely separated by the thin strip of a counter. The bar had six people (including himself and excluding Matsumoto, because she was off slacking somewhere), at eight in the morning.

That skimpy lady from the candy shop (that Rukia adored so much) sat at the far left, looking more like a cat than ever because of the black suit she donned. Thankfully, although her choice of clothing hugged her curves, she wasn't flaunting her assets at Ichigo like she'd done in the candy shop. The owner of the shop himself was seated next to her, still dressed in the same frumpy coat and striped hat that covered his eyes and made him look a little too sinister. The easy grin on his face did nothing to make him seem more trustable.

There were three more people next to Urahara, which meant that Rukia was seated right smack in the middle, facing him directly. He met her gaze, then looked away as he recalled the events that'd happened two days ago.

---

The kiss had lasted for a long time. It had been an innocent kiss – no one let their hands roam about or anything like that. Just simple mouth to mouth as he leaned down from the vanity to hold her close to him. Surprisingly, she hadn't retaliated, and even returned his gesture. It puzzled him rather. She'd only stayed with him for say, one month? And they were already sharing "passionate kisses" after a "long and hard battle". Ichigo grimaced as he remembered the specific phrases from a romance novel he'd been forced to read by a friend some time ago. No, he wasn't confused about the fact that they'd locked lips. Big deal, Matsumoto smooched him occasionally when she was really, really drunk, but it didn't mean anything to the both of them at all. What baffled him was that he'd actually wished that time would stop and let them remain in that position forever, and that entire package of romantic shit. The hell! Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't the sort of guy who thought of such corny things, much less exchange saliva with a girl he knew for such a short period of time. He couldn't blame it on raging hormones, because he was already past that stage in his life (THANK GOD). There was just a certain attraction he felt towards this Oriental-looking female, with her jet-black hair and porcelain face. Ichigo was certain that the same attraction had caused him to bring her back to his apartment, and helped him to tolerate her secretiveness, together with all the people who wanted her life.

This sort of emotion was alien to the orange-head. He had felt this way about another woman, but that was a long time ago. She was as good as dead, now. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with it, at the moment. Especially when the first thing they'd said to each other when they broke apart was "Oh fuck." It would've been comical if they'd been bystanders watching a couple snog in a comedy, but they were the main characters of this lousy soap opera that had run out of money for a proper set, that's why they had to do it in a bathroom.

---

Someone cleared his throat, and broke Ichigo's train of thought. It had been a boyish voice… Ah, it'd come from the boy who was currently perching on the chair next to Rukia. He was frightfully skinny, with a shock of silver hair and piercing aquamarine eyes that seemed to belittle you, as though he was of a higher rank than you. The bartender was sure that he'd met this boy before on one of his late night shifts, but didn't bother to sieve through his memories to find a particular incident. On his right was a young girl of around sixteen years, perhaps. She looked the most pleasant out of the group of five, with a small smile on her face at all times, and hair tucked into a neat bun.

Ice clinked about in glass cups as Yoruichi swirled her drink about a few times with a bored expression on her face. Clearly, waking early in the morning was not her cup of tea. Several minutes passed as the five of them merely watched Ichigo work behind the counter – squirting soap into a sponge, swiping at the insides of the glasses, turning the water on at full speed, and then finally drying everything in a checkered cloth, which was becoming soaked at the moment. It was all a monotonous cycle that he repeated, and made those who observed him want to fidget about in their seats.

After a while, Urahara cleared his throat as well, and looked up to face Ichigo, so that his eyes stopped hiding under the shadows of his straw hat.

"I wish to strike a deal with you, Kurosaki-san," he drawled, making his Kansaiben more obvious than before. The orange-head raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, which spurred the candy shop owner to continue talking.

"You see, the two youngsters here are good friends, but both of them don't have any parents – the girl was disowned by the set of foster parents her orphanage had assigned her to just because she wanted to be a social worker, and to contribute to the society! This lad here was saved from the clutches of evil by her, and he is very grateful to the young lady; he even wants to turn over a new leaf," Kisuke rambled on, shushing Toushirou's ardent protesting and cursing as he went along.

An impatient sigh escaped from the bartender's lips as he put down the beer glass he was holding, still wet with soap bubbles and water. "Get to the point, Straw Hat. What do you want from us?" There was a pause, and he frowned at what he'd just said. What "us"? There is no "us", he convinced himself silently, ignoring the fact that he'd glanced at Rukia at the mention of "us".

Urahara chuckled lightly, before spreading out his fan in front of his face. "My my, young people these days don't appreciate small talk." The fan snapped close.

"All right then, let's get to the point, as you said, Kurosaki-san. Yoruichi-san and I would like you to provide a home for the two teenagers next to Rukia-san here. You'll just have to let them stay in your apartment for a period of time, while we search for a new place for them to stay in."

The beer glass cracked as Ichigo gaped at the absurd request. Rukia and her stupid penguin men had already caused him a huge sum of money, not to mention her weird antics such as kicking people off the bed with her strong legs, and overall just leeching on his money – all the hard-earned money from various part-time jobs…

"No. No way. I'll probably die of overwork-"

"Now, no one can actually die of overworking, but we digress. Yes, I agree that our request is rather difficult to fulfill, but there are other factors that you must consider, as a man who is very in. Need. Of. Financial. Aid," the sandy-haired male said, emphasizing on the last five words, before grinning rather sinisterly. Ichigo scowled and let the candy shop owner continue.

A grin, then, "They will pay you rent." At which Hitsugaya widened his eyes and began to toss profanities at him, before Momo whapped him with a folded newpaper (God knows where she got that from) and he elbowed Rukia accidentally, who yelped and knocked her glass of orange juice over, letting the liquid spread all over the counter. Yoruichi snickered at the scene, and continued sipping elegantly from her wineglass, rather like a cat drinking milk from a saucer.

"I repeat, they will pay you rent, but the money will come from us. They will have to pay us back in installments, but that is a small matter to us. We will give you time to work out the finances and come back to us with a quoted price, and the deal will be closed there and then. Is that reasonable to you, Kurosaki-san?" The last sentence was meant to be a question, but it came out sounding more like a command, despite the fact that Urahara was smiling.

Ichigo's frown deepened. "No, I won't take them i-"

He was interrupted yet again, this time by a familiar and female voice. "I don't see why we can't give them a place to stay in, if they're paying rent." He gawked at Rukia, who shrugged indifferently.

"Freeloaders don't have a say in who gets to stay in my apartment!" the orange-haired man, who was looking more like a distraught boy, exclaimed, sending the cracked beer glass plummeting into the sink and shattering into further smaller pieces. He didn't even wince. Neither did the other five people in the bar. Rukia merely stuck out her tongue at him (now why did he find that incredibly sensual?) and folded her arms across her chest.

Great, she wanted him to do this. Silence filled the bar, as five extremely intimidating people stared at him expectantly.

Argh, fuck it. "All right, I'll give you the price when I have time to work it out."

He could've sworn that the girl with the hair-bun mouthed a "YES!" to herself as she punched her fist into the air and swayed her hips from side to side, but he was too distracted with how Urahara was placing his arm round Rukia.

"Now get out of my workplace before I chase all of you out with a broom," Ichigo said in a dangerously low voice as he picked up the shards of glass from the sink to throw into the bin.

"I look forward to your visit to the candy shop, Kurosaki-san!" Urahara called out as he strolled through the doors with Yoruichi and the two younger kids, one scowling with a passion and the other still doing her strange hip-swaying dance.

… Leaving him alone with someone he didn't really want to be alone with at the moment.

Mutely, he picked up a few kitchen towels to wipe up the mess of orange juice on the counter, feeling Rukia's eyes on him but trying to ignore it by busying himself, rather like a housewife who'd just had an affair with the gardener and was trying to avoid meeting her husband's suspicious eyes.

Oh God, had he just come up with that fucked up analogy?

There was seriously something very, very wrong with him today. Accepting a deal from that outright weird shop owner and his sleazy female companion (he highly doubted that they were anything near a certified married couple), without even knowing who the two kids he was taking in were like. For all he knew the younger one was a drug dealer in the underground world and could shoot him in the head faster than one of the penguin men could (ah, but he would never know, would he?), and the girl was some psychotic bitch who took pleasure in pulling the guts out of orange-headed males… Then again there was just that single problem that stood out in stark contrast from the rest, like a drop of paint in a paint palette of water.

Rukia. He realized he still didn't know her last name. She was infuriating him, confusing him, messing up his life (not that he had one before) and leeching on his nightly salary that fluctuated from new highs to new lows. Oh yes, don't forget the most important bit: kissing him and making everything flip inside out again, when he'd thought he had gotten control over things. And why in the hell was he letting her do this to him? Why of course, it was just because of that piece of shiny metal she hung at her waist so casually, the detestable thing that she pointed at an important part of his anatomy when she wanted something, usually something ridiculous like a Chappy the bunny stuffed toy.

But deep inside his head, Ichigo knew that he could deal with a stupid old gun. After all, he had lived in the streets for five years, hopping from one gang to another and learning all sorts of things normal teenagers didn't learn and probably didn't want to learn, judging by the way the gangs taught stuff to kids. It was a "I'll show you, then you'll show me" kind of education, in which one senior would pick a random unfortunate guy roaming about in the streets and drive a bullet through his head, then hand the pistol to you to do the same to another unfortunate victim on the pathways. Subconsciously, the orange-head grimaced. He didn't notice Rukia's flinch as his face contorted into one of pain and disgust, because it so happened that she had reached out to flick his forehead when the scene of killing an innocent man flashed across Ichigo's mind.

Hmm, maybe he didn't like her at all. He was probably just attracted to her because she was different from anyone he had encountered so far, and because she had an air of mystery around her. Hmph, fucking aura of mystery indeed, she snorted to herself. The only reason why she was wanted was because she knew many secrets about the company that some of her brother's subordinates had never even heard of throughout their period of service (which were usually quite long periods of time, unless they were killed first), and she was refusing to expose more about herself because she didn't want Ichigo to get involved in her own fucked up family matters. Damn, she cursing so often – must be the influence from that stupid guy with a name that sounded like a strawberry (she would never admit that she found it rather cute).

"Oi, Ichigo. Stop ignoring me, you asshole," she muttered, tossing her glass at the bartender, who caught it easily but glared at her.

"Matsumoto's going to have my head if I break another glass in less than an hour," he replied her, still frowning. "And I'm not ignoring you, I'm just giving you time to think about what the hell just happened just now and how you played a major role in messing things up."

"How I played a major role my ass. You sound like my father, for God's sake! Besides, you were the one who agreed to the deal, I merely gave you my opinion because I was staying with you after all! Don't go blaming others for your own mistakes, Mr. Kurosaki," Rukia shot back, her irritation at being ignored showing clearly in her tone of voice. She was in a foul mood today and she intended on letting the world know about it.

Ichigo didn't reply. Once again, he was stuck in his thoughts of why the thought of Rukia leaving him terrorized him so much and left his internal organs twisted into a miserable state. He had to admit that he'd taken her in because he'd thought she was pretty, and because he just couldn't leave a battered girl out in the open for vultures to pick on her (it didn't occur to him that the city did not have vultures). Once a Kurosaki, always a Kurosaki. His father had been a doctor in a clinic, and they saved lives – it was natural instinct for them to want to take in injured beings to nurse them in their care. He'd intended to bandage her up, and then send her trotting off home the next morning.

But somehow they'd managed to end up in the same bed, and when they got up, she was pointing a gun at him. A dangerous-looking one, at that. Fully loaded as well. Indeed, she had been rather menacing (and still was, actually), even for a petite woman like this. He remembered the saying, "Never judge a book by its cover," and then mentally slapped himself for thinking of the clichéd phrase. Anyway, she'd managed to make him do things for her with that stupid weapon, and they actually had fun. I mean, when was the last time he'd stepped into an arcade with another person? Besides, the running from the penguin men kept his life from becoming too mundane. Of course, the occasional change in people coming after Rukia had been a shock, but since he had strange and helpful neighbors, they'd managed to get over the ordeal quite unscathed, and he'd earned a kiss from her soft, pink lips (and now he was getting carried away, again). So it'd been worth it.

And he realized that he was going in circles. There was still no answer to the single question that lingered in his mind and refused to go away.

"Why did you take her in, Ichigo? Why aren't you letting her go back to where she belongs?"

He took her in because she had him under her control. Okay, so that theory was flawed, since he could handle guns. Right, let's start all over again. The first step he'd taken was to listen to his instincts of nursing the injured person, nothing more, nothing less. And then he hadn't thought about her staying on. But now, if he let her go, she would die. And then he would die. No, not because he would go commit suicide because his lover had died – he hadn't fallen to such a terrible standard yet. No, he would die of guilt since his whole life had been a whole guilt trip and he couldn't take much more on his conscience anymore.

Great, he'd thought of relevant and pretty rational reasons to justify Rukia living under his roof! He had no idea why he was so happy about it. But somehow, at the back of his mind, something kept nagging at him; something that kept telling him that those reasons were fucked up and were there because he need something to tell him that it wasn't wrong of him to keep her by his side, in his apartment, at his workplace, everywhere. Except on Sundays, but that was another matter altogether.

"Earth to Ichigo!" Rukia called out, waving a pale hand in front of his face. He'd been gazing off into space with that frown on his face again. Orange eyes blinked as he turned to face her, looking a little startled (the expression of "startled" for Ichigo was probably more like "I'm going to kill you" for an ordinary person, but Rukia was used to it already, because someone she knew was like this too, to a certain extent). The sudden intensity of his orange pools staring into her violet ones left her feeling just a teeny bit distraught and she had to keep herself from wringing her hands. "Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked huffily, to mask the embarrassment in her tone. He didn't notice.

He didn't notice, because he'd just bumped into a stunning revelation, one that he should have foreseen a while ago. As she glared at him from under her raven bangs, he felt himself reaching out to brush the hair out of her eyes, more gently than he'd ever done before.

Oh fuck, he'd fallen head over heels for this girl. This girl that he barely knew, but felt like he'd known her for eons already. Perhaps she was an enchantress and the gun was her wand. Dude, where was he coming up with all this shitty, nonsensical analogies? Then he felt a painful sensation from his fingertips and realized she was biting his hand and calling him a lecher.

Who was the one using sexual innuendo, what with sticking her tongue out and pouting and now sucking on his fingers! He yanked his hand back and swore at her, then she swore back, and everything returned to its normal pace.

He now knew why he'd taken her into his care, and why he didn't want to let her go despite the torture she was putting him through (he sort of liked it actually, in the masochistic way). Ever heard of "love and first sight"? Damn it, he would've laughed at it if he hadn't experienced it himself. For now, he wouldn't ask for reciprocation (although she'd shown a slight bit of interest by returning his kiss), and he didn't care about whatever crappy past she had.

She was with him, and he was with her. That was all that mattered, for now.

"Shut up and go home so you can think about the sum we should charge Urahara for the two kids. We're going to burn a hole in his pocket for all I care."

Hell, they were already sounding like husband and wife.

To be continued.

---

To readers: I know quite a number of you have been asking about why Ichigo doesn't chase Rukia out with a wooden spoon (don't ask me where I got that imagery from), and I hope this chapter explained his reasons. He's still kinda confused, really. Anyway, since this chapter was more of an explanatory sort of chapter, it can be considered a transitional chapter? Hopefully next chapter will have more interaction between Hitsugaya, Hinamori, Ichigo and Rukia. I have an angst-ridden chapter written out already, but that's still way off, I think. For now, it's numbered VIII. Please review, even though I've been so slow in updating? –holds out cookies for bribery- XD

Not so many individual responses this time, because I really need to be getting to bed.

Thanks to: hitsugaya-kun, kurenoharu, RevFF, Kuro- Ippikiookami21, ElusiveCat, AnimeObsessionFantasy, rukiaprincess, Chibirebel and ldybookiie, Alamandorious, Scottie-195, jiaxi, Tsuri Kato, Bronwen Stx, disillusiond, notnow, PlacidSnowflake, bubblegum, Tehyie, Anonymus, lonely-dreamlover, Middy, Cringe, T, KagomeHigurashi66, openwindow

Nelia-chan: I am so sorry for confusing you last chapter. Some editing has been made after receiving you review; maybe you'd like to take a look? Gomen ne!

darkfire22: Hmm, a reason indeed. –smiles- XDD

Sasha: Hey Sasha! –waves- Kraddy here, in case you haven't realized. XD Thank you for reviewing! –gives cookie-

Rabid Lola: We all know what Gin's there for. He's there to DRESS UP AS YACHIRU AND HOP ABOUT SINGING ABOUT LALALAND! –ahem- Sorry for the sudden outburst. XD Well, he's definitely there for a reason that will help in the storyline! (:

Anonymous: When I saw the word HORRIBLE, I felt my heart skip a beat! Thank God you were just kidding. (:

Kirby: You definitely need a special mention, because you gave me THREE reviews! –gives more cookies- And your latest one really spurred me on to finish this chapter. (:

LukeShaehl: Wow, the longest review so far! –gives you a BIG cookie- Thank you for the constructive criticism! Earlier on in Chapter IV (I think), I stated that they'd been staying together for three weeks already, but I guess that was way too brief. Hopefully this chapter will help in answering your questions? Also, I hadn't realized that Zaraki had not spoken throughout the whole chapter. Yes, it's rather freaky. XD As for Renji, when Rukia first met him in canon, she wasn't very pleased to see him either, so I was sort of trying to adapt to canon when she "spat" at him. But overall, you review really helped me to think further and try to produce better results!

Zyzychyn: I can't write anything but AU… XD

Jeebus dirtface: Actually, LukeShaehl wrote the longest review, but I really appreciate yours too! –gives frosted cookies-

Violetctm: Nope, I don't have a fanclub! But you don't know how happy your comment made me! –hands you a chocolate-chip cookie-

Agent Mofo: OOC stands for Out Of Character, AU stands for Alternate Universe, and IC is Into Character! Hope these clarified your doubts.

P.S. Hope I didn't miss anyone out! Please tell me if I did. The spacing might be a little wonked because it's always like that. ):