By the time Rukia's stream ended, it was long after regular dinner hours. Something about that made the idea of KFC all the more appealing to Rukia. Normally, she might have Mr. Minamoto drive out and pick up something for her- but it was too late at night for that. He was elderly, after all. No, that wasn't an option.
It could've been as simple as ordering delivery through the Damea app. But with the estimated delivery time for KFC to her house, the fries would have been long cold. And it was universally understood that fries never traveled well. She withheld a curse.
There was a second option. It was daring, wild, and foolish. But her craving easily kicked such logic aside with the lure of eleven secret herbs and spices.
She opened a different app. Minutes later, she had changed out of her casual clothes and into garb fitting of a Respectable Japanese Woman. Then, she walked to the gated entrance of the neighborhood and stepped into the waiting taxicab. Rukia couldn't help glancing over her shoulder the entire way, as if her daring secret mission would be exposed at any second. It was kind of thrilling, she mused, in a way she hadn't experienced for some time.
It would be a simple 'in and out' operation. Go in, order her food, and find a seat in a corner to eat her meal covertly. Then, she would quietly leave. Lingering trepidation began to give way, in favor of the unexpected thrill from breaking 'rules'. Was she always so rebellious? So truly wild? Her thoughts escaped her. A smirk tugged at her lips.
The smirk continued to threaten as she gracefully thanked the driver and strode up to the glowing red-and-white building which sat at the edge of campus. She couldn't remember the last time she walked into a fast-food restaurant, let alone by herself.
No one would know. It was the perfect plan. She deserved to reward herself for such clever thinking. It would be easy, she thought, as she passed in front of the plastic life-sized Colonel Sanders statue. As she cleared the final sliding door-
There, sitting a mere ten feet from the entrance, was her partner from literature class.
He froze mid-chew, a hand still holding a chicken tender. A half-eaten plate sat on the table in front of him. Their eyes locked, staring for a beat in a silence that was only broken by cheery elevator music.
A word came to Rukia's mind. A word she learned in the orphanage that would've made a Respectable Japanaese Woman clutch her pearls.
It should have been enough to abort her mission. But the fragrance of the restaurant swept over her like a perfume, which only amplified her craving. Rukia knew the most reliable way of dealing with someone bothersome was to simply ignore them. This time would be no different.
Rukia kept herself calm, outwardly gave a benign smile, then proceeded to wait in line to place her order. Perhaps she could get her food quickly, then begin eating on the way home in the taxi. Not ideal, but it was doable. And she would have her KFC.
There was a short line. She only needed a few moments before placing her order.
"Oi," the man called from behind.
She ignored him.
His voice drew closer. "Oi! You're my partner from lit class, right? From yesterday? Rukia Ku-"
"Oh!" Rukia said airily, mindful of his blaring voice and how many people were within earshot. She spun on her heel to find him standing behind her in line. "Good evening!" she said with bubbly cheer.
"Hey," he blinked.
"Unfortunately, as you can see, I'm very busy at the moment. It was nice to see you again!" She smiled, then turned to face the front of the line.
The stillness around them was only broken by the ordering counter. That, too, was fairly quiet and slow. "How are you busy? You're just waiting in line," he said.
"I am busy waiting in line," she hummed sweetly.
He scoffed. "Look, I don't even have a way to reach you. You don't even know my name. It's Ichigo Kurosaki. And I'm not doing all the work for class- we're gonna split it up evenly, okay?"
It was unfortunate, she thought. Her acting skills didn't seem to have an effect on him like it did others. Although she supposed his request wasn't unreasonable, all things considered. She could at least ensure her grade was a decent one. There was no telling what kind of quality of work he would provide, if left to cover for the both of them. Still, it would mean giving in to his demands- something Rukia could not do lightly.
She pretended not to hear him.
Several seconds went by. "Hey? Did you hear me? I said I'm not doing the project by myself."
It seemed he would be more annoying than she first thought. She weighed the thought of enjoying KFC against enduring him for several more minutes. Alteratively, she had seen a McDonald's on drive over. There was a McDonald's at the Kuchiki Corp cafeteria, so she had the menu memorized from her trips there.
She turned to face Ichigo with a careful smile, and a slight curtsey for good measure. Her veneer of delicate politeness ebbed away slightly, her smirk visible underneath. "Oh? I apologize- I must be going. It seems I have lost my appetite."
He blinked, surprised, as she made he way through the doors. But her patience was tested when his voice- and presumably the rest of him- followed.
"Hey! Cut the crap, okay? Just own up to your half of the project. It's the least you can do after I saved you from working with that creep."
She kept walking into the darkened parking lot. "Oh? But how am I to know that you aren't a creep, as well?" She smirked. Despite the sweetness in her tone, it was not the response of a Respectable Japanese Woman. She didn't care.
"I-" he stammered, finally aware he was following her into an empty parking lot, at night. "I'm not- I'm just…!" He stopped in his tracks, muttering a curse at himself.
She kept walking, smirking.
He faded away in her wake. "Just do your part, okay?!" he called.
She slowed to a stop, turning to face him finally.
He was scowling. "We can meet up after class, or something. I have that hour free. I'm not doing all the work, so you might as well if you want a good grade. Got that?"
Rukia considered her options once more. She didn't want to ruin her good grades over someone like him. "I see. I suppose I have no choice," she said with a dramatic downcast look, and a sigh for good measure.
"Okay," he said.
"However, I must ask you stop following me, Creeper-Kurosaki-san," she smiled. "Good night!"
He stammered, again. "Shut up! I'm not following you, and I'm not a creep! I'll leave you alone. Dammit." He scowled and turned away.
Rukia cast her lingering thoughts aside in favor of locating the nearest McDonald's. But that changed when she saw a familiar shape moving into the parking lot- straight towards her.
Few times in her life did she question her lot in the universe, and how luck seemed to conspire against her with its fickle ways. Yet she couldn't help but wonder such things when she encountered Taji Yoshinaga and his oily look for a third time in so many days.
"Hey! Kuchiki!" he called.
If anyone were so inclined, they would have been able to hear the 'whoosh' sound as the last of her patience was lost.
Taji was flanked by a handful of others, all of them with identical smirks in amusement.
"Did you go to KFC, too? What're you doing here?" Taji asked.
She was there, she thought dryly, to conduct an orchestra. Why else would one go to KFC?
"Kuchiki!" one of them called, drawing out the last syllable. "Hey, how about you buy us some food?"
"Yeah! I'm starving!" another said.
"Yeah, you're that girl who's loaded! With that brother of yours!" said another.
She forced a smile in place and kept her voice airy, dainty. "Ah, I'm sorry… But I don't think that's a good idea-"
The group had almost encircled her by then. They were lean and fit-looking. Rukia took note of her position in relation to them and the nearest open exit point. A fence was blocking her way to the side, and they blocked the sidewalk. They were far enough from the building not to be seen by those inside of it, and not close enough to any lights. She could turn, climb the fence, and run. Or, she could run between them and nimbly make her escape, using her size to her advantage.
Then, there was the third option.
"Hey!" Ichigo's voice rang out. He walked towards them from the other side, his hands shoved in his pockets. "How about you leave her alone?" He gave a smirk; a cocky smirk that bordered on predatory.
She checked their positions relative to her, noting their stances and builds. She also noted the lack of security cameras of any kind, of any random onlookers, and how the darkness hid them from street view.
There was a reason Rukia Kuchiki didn't have a bodyguard.
Taji bristled, shouting something to Ichigo. Distracted. Distracted enough to notice far too late when Rukia dove forward and elbowed him in the gut. Hard. He sputtered in shock as he doubled over on the ground.
Another goon started to dart forward- only for Ichigo to yank him backwards by the shirt collar. He spun towards Ichigo, lobbing a wild punch. Ichigo dodged to the right, surprisingly well. He ducked left to avoid another sloppy fist. Then he dipped lower, sending his own punch into the man's stomach. The man doubled over with a groan and a curse.
Rukia blinked at the action. An angry cry alerted her to the next man who was charging at her in a rage, his hands turned to fists and aimed at her head. She found it very rude. With impeccable footing that would've made her trainer proud, she sidestepped gracefully. His speed carried him past her, his fists flying in front of her face with room to spare. Just as he turned to reorient himself, she spun on her left foot and kicked her right foot into his face. Then, she rounded him with a kick to the back, just for good measure. A move she noted was slightly at odds with the Respectable Japanese Woman.
The next man was still off-guard; She swept a kick behind his unlocked knees, sending him down in a string of curses.
Ichigo barely recovered from the shock of seeing it all; just enough to notice the fifth man in his peripheral vision near the sidewalk. He grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him into the nearby bushes.
Then, Ichigo blinked in disbelief as he tried to understand the events of the past minute.
By then, all the men were on the ground in various states of pain, stumbling to stand and clutching their injuries. Taji was cursing and whimpering. Ichigo stared at Rukia, who stood in the center of it all while calmly surveying her handiwork. Much like one would idly check to see if they remembered to lock a front door.
One of the men, groaning, was clutching his phone. Rukia crossed over to him, plucking the device it out of his hand. Finding it locked, she knelt down to grab his palm and place his thumb on the screen. Then, after quickly checking it, she tossed it back on the ground.
She spoke then- but not with the airily, bubbly voice from before. It was lower-pitched, firm, yet still subtly feminine. "If you speak of this, no one will believe you." Her tone left no room for question. Only groans of resignation came in reply.
The man nearest Ichigo started to get up, cursing, trying to speak. "Hey-" Ichigo shoved him back into the bushes.
Rukia spun around to give Ichigo a look brimming with warning. He could only stare, frozen, trying to process it all. She approached with purposeful steps that would have put trained soldiers to shame. "You will tell no one, or I will hunt you down myself." It was an order.
Ichigo tried to find the words. Instead, all that came out was: "What the hell?!"
The bushes near him groaned loudly.
Taji blearily looked up from his place on the pavement. "Who's that?"
Rukia blinked. Ichigo blinked, too.
They looked at the man rising out of the bushes. They noticed he wore a shirt that said 'Thespians do it on stage'. He was carrying a bookbag.
Taji, and his three friends, did not.
Ichigo and Rukia's gazes locked in wide-eyed realization.
"…Oh," Rukia muttered. A beat of awkward silence filled the space between them.
Then, she ran away.
"O-Oi!" Ichigo recovered too late, only to see her disappear around a corner.
"What is wrong with you people?!" The man started to pull himself out of the bushes. He groaned, loudly.
"Shit!" Ichigo scrambled to help him up. "I'm sorry, I- shit. I didn't know…!"
"What's wrong with you?! I just wanted some chicken!" the man cried lamely.
"I'm sorry! Are you okay?"
"No! I just wanted some chicken!" He brushed off some stray leaves and twigs.
"What do you want me to do?" Ichigo asked. "…Give you money? Would that help?"
The man considered, calmer. "I guess… I guess that wouldn't hurt."
Ichigo dug out his wallet. "How's five hundred yen?"
His face scrunched up in judgement. "That's not even enough for a combo meal."
"Cheapskate," Taji grumbled from the pavement.
"Shut up! Fine," Ichigo scowled. "Here." He passed over more bills, making the total nine hundred. Enough for a combo and a few bathroom trips on campus.
The bushes-man slowly nodded. "Okay." He stared at the money. "…I don't really feel like chicken anymore, though."
Ichigo scowled, again.
Ichigo's mind raced during the walk to the dorm. What he'd seen with his own eyes should've been impossible, like some kind of bizarre dream. He had a dream once where Chad was secretly a dry cleaner and an expert on getting tea stains out of lace trim. It was weird, and didn't line up with reality at all, but there was that similar feeling of having a loose grip on sanity.
Just what kind of girl was she, anyway? And if she could do that, why did she act so sickeningly sweet and air-headed?
He suppressed a shudder at the thought of her glare, the one he assumed had made a grown man cry at some point. It was scary, almost. Her words rang out in his head. He didn't doubt her threat.
Her voice. It was different from before, completely. It was much lower, more natural for a human. And it was rich with confidence. Something triggered in the far depths of his mind, a faint recognition that registered in a sea of countless memories.
But he had no idea from where.
It would continue to bother him well into the evening. Even as he tried in vain to get some studying done at his desk. Even as he finally gave up trying to be productive and decided to go to sleep. His thoughts drifted, his body rested, and sleep finally overtook him.
'JC Pancakes!' Ichigo bolted awake in his bed, the words flashing to him in recognition. That was where he heard… No, that wasn't right. That wasn't the same voice in the commercial at all. Then he remembered the voice in the commercial was a man.
He scowled, and lay down again in search of sleep.
Then it hit him. He bolted awake once more, this time knowing for sure where he'd heard it. The source was impossible, completely and utterly beyond the realm of even basic plausibility. But something in his gut was adamant, and he scouraged in the darkness to grab his laptop and turn it on. He sat on his bed while the screen shone against the darkness. It took an eternity to boot up. Then, he raced to search his files, for the one file he remembered saving over a year ago. There - he hastily grabbed his earphones and plugged them in. Then he pressed 'Play'.
It was a recorded clip from one of Chappy's streams. The overlay was more simplistic, and the virtual bunny that was Chappy was an earlier version that didn't quite register expressions as well. He fast forwarded a couple of hours into the stream, to the timestamp he'd gone to several times before over the past two years. A clip he knew by memory.
Chappy was streaming some game involving village-folk and farming, the kind she played when she was relaxed and wanted something lighthearted. It was late, he remembered, probably past midnight. Ichigo had left the stream up in the background like he often did. She mentioned something about the designs of the animals in the game.
An innocent and otherwise unremarkable comment- except for the fact that it came through in her real, unfiltered voice.
Ichigo had paused whatever he was doing at the time. There were only a handful of other viewers watching, and none of them were active in the chat. It was awkward at first, in a way he felt that violated her privacy somehow- she wanted her voice hidden for a reason, he assumed. But she seemed unaware of it, and continued as usual. Frowning, went to the chat box.
Protector15: Hey, your voice filter isn't on
The contented look vanished from her face, her eyes widening. "Oh… Sorry."
Chappy frowned, her virtual head bobbing slightly as she looked quickly at her screen. Through it, a hesitancy, a worry, was still visible- it unnerved him to see her like that for the first time.
Protector15: Don't apologize. It's fine.
She paused, frowning still.
Protector15: It sounds nice.
He remembered slapping himself on the forehead for that. He thought it sounded cringy and creepy, even the moment it appeared on screen. But Chappy merely watched carefully. Her frown lessened, slightly. "Ah… You think so?"
Protector15: Yeah
She looked away from the screen, made impossibly cute by the rabbit avatar. If he didn't know better, he could have thought she was blushing.
"…Thank you." She cleared her throat, awkwardly. A few moments later, she had the matter resolved. And Chappy was once again a mysterious streamer, hidden from the world behind her virtual masks.
But Ichigo remembered it. He remembered hearing her real voice for the first time, and how he'd thought if it every so often, as some clue towards what Chappy was really like. As if it could give clues as to what she looked like. He remembered the mellow, strong tone of her voice that also held a delicate note of gracefulness within it.
And he knew it was the same voice he'd heard from Rukia Kuchiki.
Ichigo didn't get any sleep the rest of the night. He was too busy trying to convince himself, one way or the other, of his late-night revelation. It was easy to dismiss it as impossible, or that he'd misheard, or that he was jumping to wild wishful conclusions. What kind of coincidence would that be? That he'd met in real life the online streamer he'd been following almost daily for two years? And that it was Rukia Kuchiki, a rich girl related to a powerful CEO?
He thought of his brief interactions with her. Each time was wildly different in some way. She had that vapid cheer and let herself get bossed around, but also wouldn't hesitate to beat someone up? The Chappy he knew was confident, outspoken. Much like the woman he'd seen earlier that night that wasted no time in taking out three grown men on her own. And the scary death threat. That part sounded like Chappy.
And she was going to KFC- Right after playing that game. Had she mentioned going there at the end of the stream? Or was it a coincidence? After all, it was open later than many other nearby food joints. And the ads were all over campus.
Ichigo's mind was awhirl with the possible explanations. But in the end, nothing was decided in the torrent of confusion and doubt that lasted till morning. He wasn't certain. That single kernel of doubt remained, reminding him every so often that what he had was a strong feeling and theory made in the middle of the night, in a sleep-deprived state, based on a brief memory during extenuating circumstances. A theory fueled by KFC.
In the light of the morning, he realized it sounded rather crazy. Maybe it was from all the fried chicken he ate.
Yeah. That was probably it.