AN: The author wishes it to be known that, in the pursuit of creating a tale worthy of our beloved ship, she has painstakingly reviewed countless romantic comedies of the 1980s to 2010s. Although a tedious endeavor, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
Any sound could be turned into a morning alarm, when it came down to it.
On a scale of one to ten, with one being the worst, Rukia ranked a regular alarm clock buzzer at six. Bird song and forest sounds ranked at two, as they made her annoyed at nature during the day. Ranked at a respectable four was the chime of her phone when Renji messaged her before nine A.M.
Ranked at negative three was a call from Miss Utsumi.
Rukia was now very awake.
She clutched the phone clumsily to face. "Ah- M-Miss Utsumi. Ah…" She struggled to form coherent words, her brain fighting the twilight of sleep.
"Have you seen the news this morning?" her voice was cold.
Rukia blinked, absently rubbing her eyes. "What?"
"The news. It seems you've gotten a sudden bout of attention- because of a visit to a certain American food chain, Miss Kuchiki."
The pretentious reference to KFC was enough to make Rukia's heart suddenly beat harder in her chest. Rukia froze, the phone held tightly in an iron grip. "What?" she breathed. "Ah… Miss Utsumi, I can explain-"
"You don't need to explain. There's nothing to explain. Because there's no reason to justify you, of all people, going by yourself to a greasy fast-food chain late at night."
Rukia listened with bated breath. She continued to listen, waiting for the rest of the scolding- particularly, the words 'altercation' or 'violence', or some variation thereof.
But there was only silence.
She blinked. "…What?"
"You heard me. I'm well aware of what happened- Someone snapped a photo of you walking there. It's all over some of the tabloid news sites. It's even trending on your social channels."
Rukia blinked, again. "Ah… Is that all?"
A huff was blown through the receiver. "That's all? That's certainly enough to jeopardize our brand image- I mean, your image. Going to such a place… Just… Walking in…!" She tutted.
Slowly, the truth dissipated the last of Rukia's sleep-fog. Her breathing calmed. "…Ah. Yes. I was not aware."
"There's no excuse for this, Miss Kuchiki. You have a driver for this exact reason- And they have delivery apps. Surely, you could have used one of those instead of- instead of-" Miss Utsumi made a disgusted sound. "And the choice of restaurant left much to be desired. It's not Christmas, so there's no reason to go there. A palace to American fried garbage, is what it is."
(Somewhere across campus, in a dorm, a red-haired orphan felt something amiss in the world.)
Rukia withheld an audible sigh. "Yes, I understand. I apologize, Miss Utsumi."
The other woman huffed. "See that it doesn't happen again, Miss Kuchiki. Thankfully, I don't think your brother needs to be involved with this. Just don't let it happen again."
"Yes. I promise, Miss Utsumi."
As soon as the call ended, Rukia let out a sigh; a very long, full-bodied sigh, the kind only used when certain disaster was narrowly avoided and one had yet to have their caffeine for the day.
It wasn't her fault that fries didn't travel well.
She took several moments to allow her heartbeat to settle. There was solace in the fact that her brother wouldn't be involved- a call from Miss Utsumi was one thing. A call from her brother himself was another matter. So long as he didn't reach out personally, there was little reason to worry. It had been a long time since that one, terrible incident which had threatened her brother's reputation and Kuchiki Corp's business relations as a whole. She could remember his iron gaze, the disappointment lingering in his knit brows. How his calm facade had been stripped away, like she'd never seen before, due to her actions.
She shook herself of the distasteful memory. That was a long time ago, she knew. And the risk to her brother's approval, and her future at Kuchiki Corp, was minimal. It was fortunate her actions from the night before had gone unnoticed. The violent ones, anyway.
A glance at her alarm clock revealed another forty minutes before she actually had to get up. But she was far too awake, her pulse still recovering, and she resigned to start her workout early. The routine ended up more intense than usual. The punching bag looked especially barren that morning, desperately in want of a face to be taped upon it. She stared at it for some moments- imagining a certain brunette boy with a scowl- before beating it with a rounded kick.
Sure enough, the 'RukiaKOfficial' social media accounts got their share of attention related to KFC. Some tabloid blogs and sites carried the so-called 'story'. A far-away, blurry photo accompanied them of her walking into the restaurant. She'd even gotten a tag by the official KFC Japan account. She left all of it- the tags, the posts, articles- unread. There was no point to it, she knew. Experience said it would die down in a matter of days. And the Kuchiki Public Relations experts had instructed her not to interact with anyone online if she was getting unusual attention. The PR team would post under her accounts if needed.
Renji finally woke up and messaged her about the news. He was equally concerned that she'd garnered negative media attention and that she'd decided to go to KFC without him. Hanatarou was sympathetic; 'If I lived nearby, I would've brought you some, Rukia-san,' he said in a message that morning. Rukia thanked him despite it.
But there were more practical matters to dwell on besides her PR record. Namely, her new class partner.
During the car ride to campus, she did a search for any social media accounts under the name 'Ichigo Kurosaki'. Strangely, there was nothing- suspiciously so. As if they had been purged or hidden.
That was unfortunate. There was no picture to use for her punching bag.
She let out a sigh, staring at her phone. True, she realized that he wasn't to blame for her recent online attention. But that did nothing to lessen the annoying mental image of his scowling face. Then, there was the tricky matter of his involvement with her fight the night before. A side of her no one was allowed to see. She would need to keep him quiet on the matter. And they would need to work together, besides.
It was truly bothersome. The fool.
The less she thought of him, the better. With renewed resolve, she switched to her usual reading fare of gaming news sites and immersed herself in the latest update notes for Soul Reapers 2.
Rukia waited outside the classroom doors, discreetly watching both ends of the hallway. Ichigo arrived just moments before class was set to begin. He moved with an absent stare. She winced as he- yes, he walked into a trash can.
With a frown, she saw him fumble his way toward the classroom, unable to notice her even as he walked right past.
"Ah, Kurosaki-kun!" she called, her voice high-pitched and airy, dripping with false cheer. But there was a stronger element to it than usual. "Did you sleep well last night?"
He physically jerked out of his daze, and looked at her as if she'd seen his very soul. "W-What?"
Her polite smile-almost-smirk remained. "I know it was an eventful dinner last night. I hope there is nothing bothering you. Surely, there's no need to mention it to anyone else." Her tone dipped lower, ever so slightly. An underlying note of warning that could have made trained soldiers hesitate.
He blinked, as if struggling to name the very planet he was on. "Uh… Yeah. I mean, no. I won't. It's fine."
The longer she spoke with him, the stranger he seemed. His reactions were nothing like what she expected. It was like he'd seen a ghost. "I'm glad we understand one another," she said with a plastic smile and coordinating curtsy. Her task done, she moved to enter the classroom.
"Wait," Ichigo said, almost too loudly.
She paused. "What?"
He opened his mouth, hesitating. "I-"
Rukia glared. "What is it?"
Ichigo had a question in mind that threatened to spew from his lips unbidden. A debate raged inside him as he considered it. The very obvious, very blunt question that lingered temptingly on the tip of his tongue, one that would absolve him of all doubt. But the danger of being wrong lurked as well, overshadowing every thought. His foot hurt from the trash can, too.
Finally, Ichigo said, "We're meeting after class, right? Both days of the week?" The words came out far more collected than he felt.
She snorted, faintly. "Fine. We can meet after class on both days, starting next week. I will not give you my number." She entered the lecture hall without waiting for a reply.
It took a moment for Ichigo to collect himself and enter the classroom. Still slightly dazed, he blindly found an empty seat towards the back. He noticed Rukia was sitting towards the left side and further down the middle.
The professor started to drone on about the current book of study and something about the author's life. But Ichigo couldn't hear any of it, his mind engaged in a game of tug-a-war between belief in his discovery and rational doubt.
Two versions of Ichigo existed within him. The first was convinced beyond all hope that he knew Chappy's true identity. He was in awe of meeting her in person, if surprised to see how she was in the real world. A stark contrast to how he'd secretly imagined she would be. He fully expected her to have something bunny-related visible at all times.
The second Ichigo scoffed, finding the very idea preposterous. His 'evidence' was comparing a voice clip from over a year ago and someone's inclination for KFC. And for Chappy to be the celebrity Rukia Kuchiki? From the fancy corporation? With the stoic older brother who showed up on the news? It was practically impossible. Then, there was the astronomical chance of Ichigo meeting her by coincidence in real life. Impossible odds. He could almost hear Ishida's reprimand. "Only an idiot would believe it," the fake Ishida said in his mind.
It was ridiculous. He wasn't a voice expert. Maybe her voice sounded just like Chappy's because of some psychological trick. Like when people saw human faces inside inanimate objects. That was a thing, right? Ichigo could've just been confused.
But then he thought of the smirk she had the night before; the tiniest gleam of amusement shining through with an intensity he'd long known from Chappy's streams. He'd know it anywhere.
Ever since last night, Ichigo's first inclination was to message Chappy and say, 'Hey, are you Rukia Kuchiki in real life?' But his friends had warned him more than once over the years not to do the first thing that popped into his mind. "She'll think you're a creep, probably," said a mental not-Tatsuki. The mental version of Chad just gave Ichigo a silent but knowing look. They were always telling him about planning ahead, but Ichigo ignored that part.
Asking her outright probably wouldn't work, anyway. She could just lie. Then he'd never be able to put the matter to rest, and his sanity would vanish along with it.
He glanced over to her across the room. From his position, he could see her well enough, and most of her laptop screen.
Maybe there was another way.
Ichigo had started watching Chappy early on. He'd watched since the early days, when the channel was young and moderators weren't online as much. Ichigo helped keep unruly viewers in line. He'd told more than one sexist jerk to shut up, amongst other things.
It wasn't uncommon for streamers to make certain long-time viewers moderators of their channels. Someone had to help keep an eye on the thousands of unruly viewers with access to a keyboard. And it wasn't long into Chappy's streaming career when Protector15 was approached with an offer.
The message itself came from one of Chappy's friends - the mod Hana4Life, one of just two mods who seemed to know Chappy from the start. Ichigo declined the offer. His life was still in tatters, at the time, and he didn't want to commit beyond casual viewing. Hana had seemed disappointed on Chappy's behalf, but thanked him anyway.
It meant there was a private message channel with Hana in the messenger app. But Chappy had also been included in the channel- silently reading the exchange, Ichigo guessed. She never posted directly, and after Ichigo's refusal the private message channel was left untouched for over a year.
But it also meant that, technically speaking, Ichigo could message Chappy directly- and privately- at any time.
Barely aware of the professor droning on at the front of the room, Ichigo opened the messenger app on his laptop. His pointer hovered over her username. All it needed was a click. He discreetly looked over at Rukia, who was looking at the professor with disinterest. Her laptop screen was just close enough for him to make out general colors of the windows. He could see the whites and yellows of a common note taking app. But in the bottom right corner were the familiar dark grays and telltale sidebar of the messenger app.
He let out a breath, slowly.
Ichigo stared at the screen. Whatever he said, it had to be good. No, clever. Or was that too much? Something thoughtful. Or-
Protector15: Hey
His eyes darted to the other side of the room.
It took a moment for Rukia to look away from the professor's presentation, her attention going down to her screen. She paused, staring at something there.
Rukia's grasp of the lecture came to a screeching halt. The entire lecture hall disappeared from around her, her entire world now consisting of a little chat window on her screen and the small words there. A private message notification from Protector15.
A jolt went through her as she stared, wide-eyed. Willing herself to stay calm- it was only a private message, after all- she carefully typed out a reply.
Chappy: Hello
Ichigo looked back at his screen, frozen. The timing was almost perfect- but it could be a coincidence, still. People got messages all the time. That didn't mean that she was seeing his message in particular, or that she had just written what appeared on his screen.
A burst of excitement came- he was talking with Chappy directly and privately for the very first time. But he shook his head, slightly, willing himself to look past that. It was a stupid thing to get worked up about, really. He practically talked to her every other day through the chatbox on her streams.
But he knew, realistically, that it wasn't the same thing at all.
After frantically trying to figure out what to say next, Ichigo finally typed,
Protector15: That was a weird game last night
The moment he pressed 'enter', he immediately regretted it and had the urge to bash his head against the desk.
He watched the other side of the room. She kept staring at the screen, typing something.
Chappy: Yes it was. It was Monkey Snake's idea.
Ichigo saw her typing and then pressing enter. And just as she did, Chappy's reply showed up on his screen.
The timing was perfect. Down to the last second.
The classroom around him threatened to spin, even more than it already had. His heart started to beat loudly in his ears. He resisted the urge to rake a hand through his hair. The doubt from before had been chipped away, crumbling down into little specks of dust with every keystroke and message received.
He swallowed.
Protector15: I got KFC after.
Then, he rushed to send an emoji- something smiling or laughing, so he didn't sound creepy or awkward.
Chappy: I wasn't able to. But I'm glad you got some
Then- a sweat-dropping emoji. That was a good sign.
Chappy: Did you need something?
He cursed, mentally.
Protector15: No… I'm sorry if this is weird. Or random. I just wanted to say hi.
Chappy: Don't apologize. It's expected, given how much you're on the stream.
Ichigo visibly relaxed in his chair, nearly letting out a sigh of relief. Before he could reply-
Chappy: I don't mind chatting. It's hard to get to know you during the stream.
He smirked.
Protector15: Yeah
Then, he suddenly remembered that he was in the middle of class, and seeking assurance of his midnight realization. He glanced over at Rukia. She was staring at the screen, deep in thought- a faint smile on her face, one he hadn't seen on her before.
His mouth went dry. He swallowed.
Chappy: It's about time you stopped lurking
Then she threw in a PicText of a suspicious raccoon peeking around a corner, with the words 'Lurker!' flashing repeatedly.
Ichigo would've snorted in amusement if he wasn't absolutely consumed with the burden of information now upon him, and the secret he'd inadvertently uncovered.
Protector15: Sorry, gtg. Talk to you later
He closed out the program before she could respond.
Ichigo's world now consisted of racing thoughts, a crazed flow of ideas and realizations that assaulted him all at once. His eyes transfixed on a point of nothingness that resided just in front of his computer screen. The lecture that day was a loss. When class finally ended, he grabbed his things and went straight out the door.
Rukia looked up from her desk just in time to see him leave.