Caring is...

.

.

Having a gigai is troublesome in ways that Rukia has never imagined possible. The need to eat, to sleep, to speak and behave a certain way to maintain her cover as an innocent high school student- that she can deal with. What she didn't expect was the level of fatigue and tiredness that assails her at the end of each Hollow hunt nor did she realize how long it would take for her artificial body to recover from her physical battle wounds.

She suppresses the urge to shiver and sneeze, pressing a hand against her throbbing head instead. Never mind the scores of cuts and bruises on her body; these days, she is lucky to have a patch of unbruised skin and she is so out of shape it is not even funny.

Late spring in Karakura is colder than expected. She has a hard time adjusting to her body's sensitivity to the temperature of her surroundings. Even with the clothes on her back, the wind seems to blow right through her. Her shoulders ache and there are pins and needles shooting up her left leg. She thinks that she might have sprained it somehow.

The walk back home from school has never seem longer.

Rukia hisses sharply as she puts a little too much weight on her injured leg. Cold sweat beads at her forehead despite her best attempts to push forward despite the pain. To have to put up with the slow reaction time and the fragility of her gigai is an indignity and an insult to her pride as a Shinigami!

"Oi! Rukia! You ok?"

She grits her teeth, trying hard not to fall behind by too much from Ichigo as she lifts her head up. The setting sun casts a golden sheen of bronze on his figure, highlighting the sharpness of his features and the bright glow of life and exuberance that seems to emanate from him. His eyes shine. His shoulders are broad and the lean figure that he cuts- his shadow trailing behind him as he walks ahead makes him seem older beyond his years. The boyish half-smile that creeps onto his lips is unexpected but endearing. Everything about him exudes warmth and life.

She tries hard to mask her pain, forcing herself to grin instead as she waves off his concern.

"I'm fine," she tells him. "Being in a gigai is more tiring than I thought. I didn't realize that being in one for too long can cause such a drain."

She bites the inside of her cheek. She is lying. Her instincts tell her that there is something not quite right about this gigai. It is taking much too long for her powers to return to her. Even if Ichigo was truly that impressive and managed to take all of her powers for himself; it has been a good few weeks. Some of her powers should have returned by now.

She wonders if Urahara has something to do with this but that didn't make much sense. Why would the shady businessman want to plot anything nefarious against her?

She is a nobody in Soul Society. She chides at herself. Maybe she is thinking too much and the man's only crime is simply being a cheapskate and selling her faulty products?

What with the incident with the Mod Soul Kon, it really wouldn't be the first time the dishonest good-for-nothing ripped her off.

"Stop lying," Ichigo says as he makes his way towards her. His eyebrows are furrowed and his half-smile has been replaced by a deep frown. "You're limping."

Rukia is unfazed at his accusations. Ichigo may be faster and at the moment, stronger in strength and fighting abilities, but there is more to being a Shinigami than simple brute strength. That boy has nothing on her when it comes to playing mind games and Rukia has had years of experience in creating diversion and openings, cleverly changing the subject when it suits her.

She crosses her arms, smirking as she teases him. "Awww! Could it be that the Great Kurosaki Ichigo is a secret softie? Don't tell me you're worried about me?"

"S-Shut up!"

The tips of his ears glow red and Ichigo scowls fiercely, but he does not stop making his way towards her. He easily closes the distance between them. Then, he unexpectedly turns around and bends his knees.

Rukia blinks, surprised and stunned. She takes a step back instinctively. Ichigo couldn't possibly—

"Hop on! I'll carry you back. At the rate you're going, it'll be dark before we get back."

His voice is gruff and he has his back to her. Rukia stills, chewing at her bottom lip.

A Shinigami should not show any weakness to anyone, let alone to a normal human. Nii-sama would be mortified if he were to see her behaving in such an inappropriate manner. She does not want to bring shame to the Kuchiki clan. Piggyback rides during a mission may be a necessity and she begrudgingly allows it, but this is different. Being offered one outside of a Hollow hunt- she does not know if she can accept it.

She frowns, clenching her fists at her skirt. Ichigo is exaggerating. She is not some delicate flower, sheltered and fragile. Her pain is still ...bearable.

Sensing her trepidation, Ichigo calls out again- louder this time. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on!"

"We're not in our soul forms. What if somebody sees us?"

They may be in a park right now but they are bound to pass by some familiar faces on their way back to the Kurosaki Clinic. For all that he likes to act and talk like a tough guy, Ichigo is sensitive and unexpectedly hung up on his 'image' at school. That much is obvious from how he pitches a fit at their frequent 'toilet' trips, moaning about how his classmates would never look at him the same way again.

"Che! Since when did you care about what other people think? I thought that didn't matter to you at all!"

She scowls in response, fighting the urge to kick him in the shins. That's the thanks she gets for being thoughtful and considerate! Ichigo is absolutely right! Why should she care about a lowly human and his stupid obsession with maintaining his stupid cool guy image?

She should have known. Being nice was what got her into trouble the first time!

"It's called being nice, Rukia. It's not a big deal! Don't make a habit of it, though ok? Don't blab about it either ok? I mean- I swear to God, Rukia if you—"

Ichigo's rambling is unexpectedly cut off by the sudden warmth spread against his back. Rukia's arms are wrapped around his neck and her warm huffs of exhale hit the tips of his sensitive ears, making him feel warmer than he should. His heart is set on a beating staccato rhythm and his palms are unusually sweaty despite his best attempts at playing it cool.

He gulps, feeling the addition of Rukia's body settling at his back. He hooks his arms under her thighs and with a grunt, slowly gets to his feet. For all that she boasts about her abilities and battle prowess as a Shinigami, Rukia does not look particularly convincing for the part. She is tiny and does not weigh much.

He gingerly adjusts her position, making sure that she is comfortable before he takes the first step. The smile that creeps on his face is small and quick to disappear when Rukia tightens her grip on him.

"Drop me and I will murder you in your sleep tonight."

Ichigo scoffs, rolling his eyes at her empty threats. When it comes to Rukia, her bark is much worse than her bite. He keeps his eyes staring straight ahead and his mind blank, quietly distracting himself from the fact that he is carrying her on his back, out in public, and that anyone- even their classmates can see them like this.

There is already plenty of speculation going on at school about his relationship with the cute and innocent Kuchiki-san. The frequent vanishing acts during classes; her bodily dragging him out of classrooms under poorly-veiled pretenses certainly do not help.

He hears things. The perverts at school assume that they are skipping class in favour of fooling around and making out in the dark unnamed corners of the school. They smirk openly, pointedly looking at the untucked shirts and wrinkled uniforms when they come back, if not together then within short intervals of each other, with their messy hair, appearing visibly out of breath and red in the face.

The two of them, caught in public walking home together in such an intimate position?

He can kiss his hard-earned reputation goodbye! That would have been all the proof that they needed. Skipping classes for wild make-out sessions in the janitor's closet confirmed!

In a small town like Karakura, there are no secrets and high school students are nothing if not vicious. The gossip mills have dedicated themselves into working overtime as if to make up for the blandness of life in the suburbs. By noon time tomorrow, everyone at school would have known that the two of them are fuck buddies or something to that effect.

That P.E. guy who has it out for him— Kamine? Kagenui? Kaminari? — Ichigo shakes his head. Names escape him. Anyway, that moustache man would demand disciplinary action on the grounds of his lewd behaviour damaging the school reputation and setting a bad example to other students.

Ichigo snorts. Rukia would get off scot-free of course- her with her horrible acting. Just a bat of her eyelashes and a tearful choke or two and the teaching staff would be all putty, declaring that she is a victim of the scandal- nothing but a poor impressionable girl led astray by a despicable scoundrel like him, who finds it fun to corrupt pure-hearted maidens and toy with their hearts.

Idiots and morons- the lot of them. They could not have strayed further from the truth. His relationship with Rukia is not like that. She may live in his closet but they have not even so much as shared a drink from the same cup or seen each other accidentally in the nude in the weeks that they have started living together (not that he wants to, mind you).

Ichigo clears his throat as he interlocks his fingers behind him, keeping his steps small and measured. "Then I guess you'd better hold on tight then."

.

It takes them two left turns and a straight stretch of brick-stoned footpath to leave the park, but by then Rukia is already sound asleep.

Spring is in the air. Her skin slides cool against his own where their skin touch. The cotton sleeves of her grey school blazer rubs against the skin of his bare neck. When he breathes in, the air around him smells like Rukia- the fruity scented shampoo that she most likely stole from Yuzu, the smell of clean laundry detergent and something faintly floral.

Ichigo gulps, trying hard not to dwell too much on it. The sound of Rukia's even breathing sooths him and he lets the white noise drown out his thoughts.

The Kurosaki Clinic looms tall in front of him before he knows it. His eyes dart at his surroundings. It is known well enough to all those who knows him, Kurosaki Isshin is very much a handful- dramatic, bombastic and embarrassing. Ichigo has no intention of having a tearful and scandalized encounter with his old man about the girl currently sleeping on his back. Isshin, he knows, will never let him live it down and will likely make it a point to cry about the existence of his virgin son's girlfriend in front of Masaki's gigantic poster.

After much deliberation, the key ultimately slides into the lock and Ichigo makes it a point to embody his inner ninja to keep the noise to a minimum. Yet, much to his surprise, there are no flying roundhouse kicks jumping out at him as the door knob twists open.

He blinks, releasing a breath that he has been holding in. A second later, Isshin's booming voice echoes from the kitchen well before he crosses the threshold and shouts tadaima.

"Aha! My idiot son has returned! Get your butt in here! How dare you keep this family waiting? Your sisters have been waiting for ages. You are all in for a treat! Papa is cooking tonight!"

"In a minute!"

Ichigo does not waste time in questioning his good fortunes, opting instead to dash up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. His only safe haven in the house- the only way to keep his secret life as a Substitute Shinigami, his pact with Rukia and the fact that he has a girl living with him, is his bedroom. His brain focuses itself in getting them to their destination quickly and stealthily.

The bedroom door slams shut behind him with a bang and he sighs in relief as he steals a glance at the still sleeping Rukia. He lays her on his bed, thankful that his dash up the stairs has not jostled her. He reaches out to grab at her ankles. He removes her shoes, carefully walking over to place them next to his door. Her sock-clad feet are tiny enough that he can cover it with one hand.

Ichigo clears his throat, hating how his ears are suddenly burning. His fists clench. He tries not to let his mind dwell on the fact that Rukia is right there lying on his bed and he touched her feet with his bare hands.

"Rukia," he whispers. He gives her a gentle shake, but Rukia does not take kindly to his attempts at waking her up. She rudely slaps his hand away, rolling over to her side, turning her back to him. She gives a tired moan, mumbling at him to leave her alone.

"Rukia."

He tries again. For one thing, there are no locks on his door. Theoretically, anyone in the family, especially Yuzu could barge into his room for one reason or another. He would rather not run the risk of having the unfortunate circumstances present themselves and him having to explain to his family why there is a strange, unknown girl currently sleeping on his bed.

He purses his lips. "Go into the closet. I promise I won't wake you up after that."

Rukia is unimpressed and ignores his cajoling. She tosses and turns again, scowling with her eyebrows furrowed.

"No!" she grabs hold of the covers, pulling them towards her. "You're so noisy, Ichigo. Bed's so big and soft. I don't—" she yawns— "Wanna just sleep. Go away! Leave me alone!"

The pout that she puts on is almost bratty, but Ichigo finds his lips twitching upwards nevertheless. Sleepy Rukia is curled up into a ball on his bed. Her sooty black eyelashes are thick and flutter softly shut. Her round apple cheeks remind him of hamster cheeks and he has to resist the urge to poke at them. He does not have a death wish.

Pouty Rukia is unexpectedly ... well cute. He would even go so far as to say that it is a welcomed step-up from regular bossy Shinigami Rukia.

He can't say no to this Rukia. Not when she is being so needy and looking utterly defenseless on his bed. It must be tiring— running around in that gigai of hers, trying to manage her Shinigami duties while maintaining her cover as a transfer student. It certainly does not help with how she likes to act tough and pretend that she is infallible despite her petite size. He has seen the dark eye circles and the bruises dotting her legs; noticed the way she unintentionally winced and seemed to favour one side more than the other on the way back.

With a heavy sigh, he concedes, letting her do as she pleases. Just this once, mind you. Kurosaki Ichigo is not soft!

And even if he were, it is definitely not for the transfer student who is secretly a Shinigami with a mean right hook and high kicks that could easily take out a man triple her size, with her fake smile and annoying chirp that has the students and teachers alike, eating from the palm of her hands.

Kuchiki Rukia, as she is terribly fond of reminding him, is a qualified and experienced Shinigami. She is much older, smarter and wiser compared to him. She can stand on her own two feet and take care of herself, thank you very much!

Ichigo pulls the covers over her, tucking her in. He walks towards the door, turning back to tell her. "I'll get you some leftovers later."

"Don't bother," Rukia murmurs. Her voice is muffled from the bedding and the pillow as she burrows herself deeper into the bed, snuggling under the covers. "Am not hungry."

Ichigo frowns but says nothing more as he shuts the door behind him quietly, exiting the room and joining his family for dinner.

.

.

Rukia winces, blearily opening her eyes when she feels a cool hand covering her head. The previously dark room is suddenly brightly lit as the lights are switched on. She shields her eyes from the assault of bright lights, nuzzling her face against the pillow under her head.

She stifles the moan that is on the verge of escaping, unintentionally leaning towards the newcomer's hand. She has woken up a few times earlier from fits of hacking cough, woozily falling asleep soon after yet again.

"I-Ichigo."

Despite her insistence that all Shinigamis are independent warriors who show no weaknesses on the pain of death, the relief that she feels when she sees his face peering down at her in concern is almost palpable.

She feels terrible. Her head is throbbing and her throat is burning. It is so sore that it hurts to swallow her own saliva. Her limbs feel heavier than lead and her voice has long since grown hoarse from all the coughing. She aches all over. It hurts to move. All she wants to do is to stay buried under the covers and curl into a tiny little ball.

Curse this hyper-realistic gigai!

This is definitely not a normal gigai. A normal gigai would not make something as simple as a cold feel so terribly and uncomfortably real. Shinigamis are not supposed to fall sick either. She cannot even remember the last time she was ill. As an active Shinigami officer, she didn't have the time or luxury to fall sick. And yet now, here she is downed and at the mercy of a simple case of cold.

Ichigo frowns at her. He came into the bedroom after dinner with a full tray of food. Despite his limited cooking repertoire, Old Goat-Chin makes an attempt to be a responsible parent once every blue moon, taking over dinner cooking duties- usually when it is exam time for the twins. It just so happens that today is one such day. His fried rice and miso soup is nothing to shout at but still passable. As for dessert, Yuzu bought some caramel puddings that were on discount today from the local grocers, but one look at the still sleeping Rukia, all thoughts of food are promptly forgotten. He lays the food tray down on his study table, abandoning them to go to Rukia's side.

He quietly removes his hand. Under his touch, her forehead feels hot and her skin looks clammy. Cold sweat beads at her forehead and she is shaking.

"Rukia, you're having a fever."

She gives a pitiful whimper at that, feeling sorry for herself and hating how miserable she is feeling right now. She is shivering despite the covers that she has on and Ichigo quickly grabs the additional blanket from the closet, draping it over her. Swallowing his bewilderment- he was not aware that Shinigamis can get sick too, he makes his way towards the door.

"Wait here. I'll go and get some medicines."

"W-Water," she croaks.

Ichigo nods, adding, "And water. I'll get some water for you too. Be back before you know it."

Rukia shuts her eyes, too tired to even give a response. The sound of Ichigo's footsteps thundering down the stairs echoes in her ears as he quickly leaves the room in search of some painkillers and water.

.

.

By the time she opens her eyes again there is a cooling gel-like pad sticking to her forehead, offering instant relief where it touches her scalding skin. The human world, she thinks is really incredible and full of marvelous inventions. She reaches for its corners, fueled by a curiosity to see for herself what sort of modern contraption is capable of giving such immediate relief.

Ichigo makes a sound at the back of his throat, batting her hand away as she tries to peel the cooling pad off.

"Don't do that," he chides at her, "leave that on. It will help bring your fever down."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at the uncooperative pout she gives him. For someone who claims to be centuries older than him, she can be such a childish brat. He presses it fuller against her forehead instead, making her shut her eyes in content at the cooling sensation.

"Right. Better?"

She deigns him with a reluctant nod. Ichigo props her up, piling the pillow behind her and fluffing them before pressing a tall glass of water into her hands.

She chugs down its contents, moaning as it goes down her parched throat, soothing it. She pushes the empty glass back to Ichigo, mumbling her thanks.

He grunts, setting it back onto the wooden bedside table with a thud. He has never seen her like this. Rukia is always so strong and goes about her tasks with an air of sureness to her with her back straight, her face betraying little to no sign of discomfort. Now, she just seems like a regular high school girl- down with a cold and too pale for her own good.

Ichigo frowns. He cannot help but worry about her.

"D-Don't give me that look. I know what you're thinking—" Rukia is talking mid-sentence when she is interrupted by a sudden fit of hacking cough. She winces at how raspy her voice sounds— "it's just a cold. It's nothing."

Ichigo responds by reaching for the still cooling miso soup on the tray. He reaches for the spoon, wordlessly blowing on the spoonful of hot soup to cool it before feeding it to her. He reasons that it is the right thing to do, seeing as to how Rukia is sick and all.

Certainly no one should expect a feverish patient to have the strength to grip at a spoon! She might accidentally drop it and there is no way in Hell that he is sleeping on miso soup-splattered bedsheets tonight!

"Here, have some miso soup first. You'll feel better with food and you can take the meds after you've had some food."

Rukia thinks nothing of the gesture, instinctively opening her mouth as Ichigo spoon feeds her. For a while, there is only the sound of the metal spoon scraping against the side of the bowl, the sound of Ichigo quietly blowing on the surface of the hot soup and the sound of her slowly slurping at it.

Rukia feels a fit of coughing coming and she hastily pushes him and the soup away. As she bends over, coughing loudly, Ichigo's hand is a reassuring presence, patting her on her back while he holds the bowl in his other hand.

Lethargy grips at her as her coughing fit finally comes to a stop. Her body begins to slide and lean towards Ichigo. For the most part, Ichigo lets her, only readjusting her and propping her up straight when her hot breath fans against his cheeks, tickling him.

"S-Sorry."

The only thing that she seems to do right since she met Ichigo is impose on him. All she does is create trouble for him. Her fists clench against the covers. She is supposed to be the Shinigami here- the one who is supposed to be taking care of others, not the other way round. How can she claim to be responsible and live up to the expectations of her Captain and Kaien-dono when a simple cold can so easily break her?

She cannot cause any more inconvenience to Ichigo. If she can't stop herself from being sick, the least she can do is take care of herself, to not pass this sickness onto Ichigo. She does not need him to fuss over her. She is not that weak or needy. She makes a motion to get up from the bed, willing her limbs to move despite the ache she feels.

"'m sorry. D-Didn't mean to create trouble. I'll go back to the closet. You rest. T-There's school tomorrow. Homework. O-Ochi-sensei—"

Ichigo clears his throat, interrupting her rambling thoughts.

"Stop being stupid!" he chides, nudging her back under the covers. "Just for a second, stop being so damn proud and lemme do this! You're sick, aren't you?"

He gently wipes at the corners of her mouth with his thumb at the trickle of excess soup. "Don't worry about it. Just this once. Suck it up and lemme take care of you!"

"B-But—"

"But nothing! You're sick and having a fever right now. It probably fried your brain or something. You can't be expected to make the rational decisions, so from this moment on what I say goes! Now, stay still and finish this soup so I can give you the meds."

The softness of his actions easily betrays his concern for her despite the gruffness of his voice and his blunt words. The surge of warmth within her is unexpected. Rukia supposes she should not be of course. Ichigo is kind, uncannily so. Even when it comes to an undeserving stranger like her, he does not hesitate to give help, albeit in a very roundabout tsundere way at the best of times.

Ichigo's heart is at the right place. The least she can do to show her appreciation is to go along with what he says. She should not create more problems for him. She folds her hands on her lap, becoming quiet and pliable to Ichigo's demands and instructions as he continues feeding her soup.

It takes them at least a few more attempts, at least three more repeated coughing episodes from her again before she manages to finish the whole bowl of soup. At the end of it, he hands her two white tablets from a silver packet and motions at her to swallow them with more water.

Ichigo is patient with her. His face never showed a hint of discomfort or annoyance when he was feeding her. He can act tough all he wants. She does not miss the tenderness in his touch when he wipes at the excess soup, the way he adjusts his pace to make sure it is not too quick for her.

He would make a good doctor someday, she thinks.

"The meds will take time to work. Assuming that they would with you being in a gigai and all," he tells her.

She nods, unable to add more. She is just as unsure of the effects of human medicines on a gigai but from what she has gathered from the daily use and what she already knows about Urahara, she wouldn't be surprised if the tablets end up mimicking the pharmacological effects in a human body perfectly.

"Go and get more sleep. The best thing to do with a cold is to just sleep it off," Ichigo says as he slides her back under the covers.

"Although—" he pauses as he notices her wrinkled uniform— "you might wanna change into something more comfortable."

Rukia's gaze turns to her clothes. She has not changed out of them since they got back to the house. She was too tired to change out of them and she fell into such a deep sleep on the way back. She turns to Ichigo, licking at her suddenly dry lips.

"My clothes are in the closet."

Ichigo gets up from her side, leaving the bed and turning towards the closet. "I'll go get them for you."

He drops the checkered yellow-brown pajamas on her lap. He recognizes them but does not comment on their origins. The cotton material is well worn, little wonder why she borrowed them from Yuzu.

She gives him a meaningful look as she unfolds the set. Her voice is barely louder than a whisper but nonetheless sends his ears burning bright red.

"C-Can you leave the room now? I need to change."

Ichigo clears his throat, suddenly becoming aware of their close proximity with each other. His face feels warm and his palms are sweaty. He shoots upwards, feeling as though he has been struck by lightning and immediately darts for the door.

"I-I'll go help Yuzu with the laundry-I mean washing up. Um... You just take your time or something," he mumbles, "I-I'll come back later. Um... if you can manage, try and eat something. I left some fried rice on the table for you. If you want, I can get some desserts up for you later. Um... take care and good night!"

As the door behind him slams shut, he misses the small smile that Rukia flashes at him.

That idiot, she thinks to herself. Alone in the empty room, she whispers words that she felt too embarrassed to say out loud to him in person.

"T-Thank you, Ichigo."

For taking care of me.

.

.

"Ichi-nii!"

Yuzu is surprised to see her brother in the kitchen. His face is suspiciously red and there is a certain absent-mindedness to his steps like he has something weighing heavily on his mind.

She turns the tap off, hastily patting her hands dry on the dress of the apron she has on before fixing him with a concerned gaze.

"What are you doing in the kitchen, Ichi-nii?"

Thinking back, she saw him raiding the medicine cupboard for some ibuprofen earlier. It is easy to catch a cold during the changing of seasons. Ichi-nii needs to be taking better care of himself. She hopes that he is not coming down with something. Hopefully, no one else in the family catches it either.

Ichigo blinks. "I came to see if I can help you with anything in the kitchen."

That sends Yuzu's eyebrows shooting straight up. "I see. Do you think you can help me with drying the dishes?"

Ichigo takes up the task without any grumbling, quickly grabbing the drying cloth in one hand and reaching for a still wet dinner plate with the other. Yuzu gives him a glance, noting the way the corners of his lips are twitching upwards, the way he can't seem to hide the shine in his eyes.

Unlike Karin, she is not in the habit of being direct with her words. Though that certainly does not mean that she is not nosy. Little sisters are allowed to be nosy when it comes to their big brothers. Ichigo especially, is hardly one to volunteer such information.

"You seem different these days, Ichi-nii."

Ichigo looks up, confused. "Different?"

If Karin were here, Yuzu knows that she would eye-roll him so hard and accuse him of playing dumb. But that would just make him defensive. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, or so the saying goes; though why anyone would waste honey to catch pesky flies is beyond her.

Yuzu nods instead, smiling as she continues drying the dishes next to him. "Yes, but a good sort of different. You feel lighter somehow."

Her brother has a resting scowl face at the best of times, but these days- especially since the past few weeks, there is a lightness to his steps. He seems to stand a little straighter, like the weight on his shoulders has been lifted somehow. Her brother is not fond of making his emotions known even to his own family, but he cannot hide it from her.

Yuzu knows her brother. Ichi-nii is happy and it just might be happiest that she has ever known him to be since their mother passed.

Ichigo frowns, casting his eyes back to his task at hand. "I didn't realize."

"Well, I have and so has Karin. You don't scowl as much. You stay after dinner to help out and you talk more about your day, what you did at school during dinner. I think it's a good change."

She dives in, going for the kill as she senses an opening in the way his eyebrows are unfurrowed. He is more pensive than defensive and she takes it as a sign to continue. "Has there been something different lately? A change brought on by someone?"

The silence that follows is deafening.

Yuzu attempts to backtrack. Maybe she pushed too far too fast?

The last thing she wants is for Ichigo to suddenly bolt. He is skittish when it comes to conversations like this like he just shuts off emotionally. She chides at herself. Her and her big mouth!

Where is Karin when you need her?

Then—

"Maybe."

Ichigo pauses and then continues, "I made a new friend. She is—"

Rukia changed his life.

In just a few weeks, this world- his world has become different, even when he has not fully realized it. In the span of mere weeks, Rukia has ingrained herself into his life and daily habits, single-handedly turning his world upside down by showing him what it means to be a true protector, that there is life after death and gifted him with powers beyond his wildest imagination.

He can save those people. He will not fail them the way he failed his mother. This time, he will save everyone and protect a whole mountain-load of people. He will- he wants to try and carry them all.

This time, things will be different.

Things will be different because Rukia gave him the power to make a difference.

Yuzu is right. He is different. He just didn't realize it.

"—She... helped me a lot. She is a good... friend."

Yuzu can hardly believe it. Ichi-nii talking about his feelings?!

Karin is spending too long in the showers. She is missing out on everything! Their Ichi-nii has finally grown up!

She is so proud of how far he has come; how open he is becoming with her, but that is not all there is to this. Yuzu caught on to the finer details very quickly.

Ichi-nii mentioned a 'she'. His friend- this person that he credited his change to is a girl! Perhaps there is some hint of romance on the horizon for her emotionally stunted brother?

"Are you going to introduce your friend to us some day?"

Ichigo is taken aback by the resounding yes that threatens to spill from his mouth. He bites at the tip of his tongue, swallowing them back. He should not be making these decisions for her. She might not want that. Rukia is still a Shinigami despite how seamlessly she seems to step into the role of a high school student; with how easily she blends into his life.

"If she wants to," he tells Yuzu. He feels that it is the best answer to give.

The smile that Yuzu gives him is beaming and he finds himself mirroring it as he adds another clean plate to the stack of plates neatly growing at the side. The Old Goat-Chin may be unreliable, over-the-top in his mannerisms, flaky- an overall embarrassment to have as a parent, but his sisters- bless their little hearts, yes, he reluctantly concedes; even Karin, that brat— are absolute angels.

Yuzu especially, can do no wrong.

"Until then I suppose, please thank her for taking care of my brother."

"Ah."

Ichigo rubs at his nape sheepishly, saying nothing more. Both brother and sister continue in comfortable silence, putting away the pots and pans with minimal noise, stacking the clean plates back into the shelves as they finish the washing up duty together.

They say good night to each other and retreat to their separate rooms. Yuzu to update Karin on the latest development in their brother's life, Ichigo to check up on Rukia who is feeling unwell and hopefully finish up on some of his school assignments; both feeling unexpectedly lighter in their hearts.

.

.

Rukia is still sleeping when he enters his bedroom after his shower.

Ichigo enters the room, flipping on the light switch. Conscious of her presence and condition, he creeps in, making minimal noise in the background. The cotton white T-shirt and blue lounge pants that double as his sleeping wear slide comfortably against his own skin. His bright hair is still slightly damp as he towels it dry using the terry towel draped across from his shoulders.

He stifles a loud yawn with the back of his hand. The time display on his alarm clock shows it to be 11:43p.m. He is usually asleep much earlier than this and he still has school tomorrow.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, he has no other option but to acknowledge the dilemma of the century and face it head-on: there is only one bed.

The gentleman thing to do would be to let Rukia take the bed of course. But one, he cannot fit in the closet; two, the floorboards are too hard to sleep on and he will catch a cold if he does that. Even in late spring, the nights are still too cold to just sleep on the wooden flooring without covers. And perhaps most importantly, he does not fancy confronting his father in the morning to explain why there is a strange girl sleeping on his bed, while he is sleeping on the floor.

"Rukia," he whispers. She looks so peaceful sleeping. Her mass of inky black hair is spilled over the pillow, contrasting sharply against the paleness of her skin. She has wrapped herself up in a cocoon with the covers. Despite the white cooling pad on her forehead, there is a small smile playing on her lips. He wonders what she is dreaming off. His arm hovers awkwardly in mid-air, torn between waking her up and letting her sleep.

Ultimately, he steels himself. With a sharp intake of breath, he nudges at Rukia who turns to her side. Her eyelids slowly flutter open. The sleep in her voice is unmistakable as she rubs at her eyes.

"W-What time is it?"

"It's almost 12. Are you feeling better?"

Rukia nods. It is time to get up. Ichigo's father has an unusual habit of playing the human alarm clock in the early morning. She should move back to the closet, but the bed is so unbearably comfortable and warm. She does not want to get up just yet.

Ichigo turns around to shut the lights. Yet to his surprise, he senses no movement from Rukia. By the time he makes his way back to the bed in total darkness, Rukia is still on her side of the bed, her breathing quiet and steady.

"Rukia," he calls out to her as he sits on the other side, repeating it louder when she still refuses to stir.

"F-Five more minutes," she pleads, snuggling deeper underneath the covers. Just five more minutes and she will move back to the closet. Ichigo's bed- the pillowcases and covers, really does smell like him.

With a heavy sigh, Ichigo concedes, settling fully on to his side of the bed and lying flat on his back. He is not a monster. He reasons that it would have been too uncomfortable to make a sick patient sleep in a closet, no matter how tiny she is.

He crosses his arms, wondering if he is ever going to get any sleep tonight with Rukia lying merely inches away from him. With that thought in mind, he turns over to his side, folding his arm under his head to act as his pillow.

"You can at least share the covers," he grumbles.

Moments later, an olive branch is extended as Rukia graciously kicks out a corner of the duvet cover. Ichigo wastes little time in pulling it to him and draping it across his much longer body. There is a brief tug-of-war between them as they struggle to get an even share of the covers. Rukia however, is the ultimate winner.

She begins to cough loudly and Ichigo, the big softie that he is, predictably feels bad for her and his hold slackens. Unseen by him, Rukia gives a victorious smirk in the dark at that. She does not hesitate to wrap the covers tighter to herself, wriggling deeper underneath them. Next to her, Ichigo curses under his breath, mumbling something about ungrateful midgets, but Rukia turns to sleep on her right side, pretending that she cannot hear him.

Ichigo is always so warm and in this tiny single bed of his, their backs are almost touching against each other. His body is radiating with warmth and his reiatsu pulses steadily. She cannot see his face or read his expression, but she thinks- she hopes that he would not hate her terribly for this, for being impish and childish. She is after all, the patient today.

There is a soft smile playing on her lips as she shuts her eyes, thinking out loud.

"Good night, Ichigo."

More grumbling and then—

"Good night, Rukia. Sweet dreams."

Unbeknownst to her, there is a smile that mirrors hers on Ichigo's face just then. Annoying Isshin is a problem for future Ichigo. He can deal with it in the morning.

.

.

"GOOD MORNING, ICHIGO!"

Isshin's favourite morning routine comes crashing down at his only son well before the latter can even crack open an eyelid to see what is going on. Thankfully, his fight or flight response is innate and Ichigo pivots, kicking his father straight out of the window with both eyes shut.

The older man gives him the famous thumbs-up as he goes flying out of the window, proudly proclaiming, "I have taught you well, my son! Masaki would be proud! See you later at breakfast!"

As Isshin quickly disappears from view, Ichigo begins to wake. Sitting on his bed and rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, he quickly notices that something is amiss. Something or rather someone is missing.

"Rukia?"

A quick look at the closet finds him coming face to face with a sleeping Rukia, her chest rising slowly and steadily and faintly snoring away. She sleeps on unaffected by Isshin's dramatic entrance and exit. He realizes that she must have got up at some time during the night or during the very early hours of the morning and returned to her usual sleeping corner instead.

Ichigo quietly slides the door to the closet shut only to feel an unbearable itch at his nose.

"A-choo!"

He rubs at the tip of his nose, sniffling. He... might have caught a cold.

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.

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Author's note:

Merry Xmas and Happy New Year, Ginna! 😊 I hope you like your gift.