Every blinking second showed how time was moving forward. At least on her iMac. There were times where Rukia thought she was resolute, adamant on not writing last minute, working until the very last minute, before the deadline abruptly becomes a passing a passing reality. She had thought that she was done with replicating bad writing behavior and practices she developed during university, but for days she's been having difficult tying and connecting everything back to this.
Why couldn't she just finalize this draft? Were her witticisms declining after working for Dorito brain? If anything, she thought their verbosely charged exchanges would have increased her clever Rukiaisms output, both externally and internally. But then again, speaking to a moving frown droid casted a gloomy, dismal sense of stillness.
And not the good kind.
Speaking of that orange haired, walking chip, he's been more sullen and uncommunicative for the past two weeks; at least more frequently. Blinking away the blurriness prompted by the glaring screen, as if it was yelling her to finalize the last touches of her op-ed and email it to Kaien-senpai, who was probably wondering if she became a digital ghost, becoming a part of the dark web.
Stretching her legs while remained seated on her very comfortably well-cushioned computer chair, she sighed, still wondering about Kurosaki and his sudden mood change. Thinking back, the only thing she can remotely, yet inconclusively, conclude is that her last text, succinct yet maybe cutting to some, might have set his behavior off.
Did that text really prompt something?
The power of words.
And here she was, unable to find the words to finalize her current writing piece. Kuchikis had unwavering self-control of their emotions with the exception of her constant giggles and unabashed obnoxious laughter – something that Ikkaku transferred over to her – she was quite sure she could maintain her self-irritation even inside her own apartment.
Why can't I think of a fitting title?
It was a habit; she often obsessed over the title of her pieces; like a musical note, the title was the hook that generated interest. She began typing mindlessly, thinking of the first few words that might form the shape of her conclusive beginning.
"Erroneously Written."
Too pretentious and lacked nuance.
She didn't know why, but she thought of Kurosaki. Uncouth, not exactly pretentious, but lacked the artful depth of subtleness.
"The Frowning: Journalism's Death."
She giggled in glee as she tapped her chin, reading over the title. It wasn't professional – much like the Dorito she was working for – so she couldn't use it. In fact, The Frowning sounded like a good name for a press. She was going to archive that one for the future.
She deleted that title, erasing all images of Doritos and Kurosaki from her mind. He's been intruding in her thoughts a lot lately. Softly shutting her eyes, she sighed.
"True Lies."
She snorted. She wasn't a fan of Schwarzenegger, who was always back for some reason. Besides, ASS' pieces couldn't even be classified as true lies; they were smear pieces that were erroneously and embellished with misinformation and scared tactics – or politicized mass hysteria – to destroy.
ASS must be living in her mind now because she quietly gets set off every single time she inadvertently thinks about him. Like Arnold there, ASS was always back, where he was always unwelcomed.
ASS? Hm.
She chuckled darkly at her computer screen as she played with that stubborn lone strand of hair between her eyes; perhaps she can have fun with that abbreviation; she loved playing with words.
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Ichigo parked his car near the coffee shop he frequented before work. A cup of strongly brewed coffee might wake him up and lessen his self-inflicted, pitiful state. And it would comfort him as the sight of autumn changed the leaves and entire landscape of Karakura.
After that wakeup call – er, text – with Rukia and her lack of response to him, he made the executive self-decision to temporarily halt his temporary secretarial flings. He wasn't addicted to sex, sure he loved having sex, but he needed to rethink his priorities, especially since there were several projects at Shoten that needed his undivided attention. Sex can wait. That and he stopped answering calls and texts from his sexual partners. How cowardly was the description that he could imagine Rukia calling him if she knew that he never gave them a clear, verbalized indicator that he didn't want to have sex with them anymore, let alone seeing them again.
No, it wasn't because he was vying for his secretary's – no, Rukia's – she wasn't his to possess – attention because that failed since their first meeting: her interview. She had pointed out how unimpressed and uninterested she was with and in him, probably because he was a playboy or that she was much more intelligent than him. But these two weeks were particularly difficult since she really didn't want to stay in the same room as him, always preferring to work with Urahara or Lisa rather than being with him.
He was resolute; he just needed to semi change his current lifestyle. Again, sex can happen anytime he wanted.
That way maybe they could have a better working relationship.
Still, he frowned, unable to understand anything, even the seemingly minute things, about Rukia. Opening the door for the family of three behind him, scaring the little boy with his face, whose big eyes nearly teared up upon seeing him and his mane, he noticed Rukia reading a magazine, her left index finger moving every so often to push her black frames in place, wearing her usual high-end secretary clothes.
She must have ditched the red frames. But whatever, the black ones look better on her.
He didn't know how long he stood there, observing her. He must have looked like a creep, standing in front of the door and unmoving.
"Oh, excuse us!" some college girls chirped at him. He vaguely heard them talk about his rugged handsomeness.
He blushed when her gaze shifted from the magazine to him.
Is it me or did her gaze soften a bit? Or it is the light's refraction that created that illusion?
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Turning the page slowly to avoid a papercut, she wondered if she was being paranoid, but she could feel someone staring at her. It couldn't be anyone from the clan because they rarely travel to Karakura, unwilling to commute to such a smaller, obscure town.
She pushed her frames back, aligning them to her ears comfortably and shrugged. She didn't care, she just wanted to finish her magazine and coffee before heading to work. She had about an hour left and instead of going for a power nap before being K. Rukia, the secretary, the high after completing an all-nighter op-ed didn't leave her and she decided to reward herself with a cup of coffee and some pastry delicacies here. She could always go to sleep right after work and sleep in since it was Friday.
"Oh my gosh! Do you see how he hot he is! Those jeans does wonders to his ass, and that leather jacket? Hot!"
Rukia felt the college students brushing past her; it was a busy day here. That and their comments were kind of basic; it was fair to appreciate anyone, but jeans does wonders to his ass? What kind of wonder? Weird compliment.
She should have stopped herself, but the college girls' comments generated an interest, and eyes do roam, so she picked up her coffee cup and looked at the direction the girls' voices trailed from.
Oh, him.
Rukia appraised his outfit and softly snorted. Sure, okay, so he did look nice. Black leather jacket an equally nice plain black fitted shirt underneath. So, he looked like a model. Big deal. Yumichika looked like a model with all of his feathers and attempted grandeur fashion, too. The only difference was that Yumichika had an eclectic sense of style that was difficult to emulate. Kurosaki dressed like almost half of the world's population.
They caught each other's eyes, their gazes never straying from each other. She deduced he was the one creeping on her. That was all he did at the office anyway, so it wasn't that surprising he continued that habit elsewhere. Rukia wasn't dense; she knew because she was his secretary, she was habitually next on his things – or people – to do.
Rukia giggled into her warming coffee cup as she freed herself from his lingering gaze. But then she resumed observing him because the man's stare wouldn't budge, eyes set on staring at her. Didn't she already leave him more than enough hints?
Kurosaki coughed and finally looked away.
Wait? Is he blushing? He looks like an idiot standing there blocking the door. I might as well do something nice for once.
She waved him over to her table; there was room for him to sit down and not flirt with her. She decided that if he could keep things professionally distant between them, then maybe they, especially him, could end their – his – awkward working relationship.
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To not walk over or to walk over was the million-dollar question Ichigo was internally battling with, attempting to find the most appropriate answer. He had to look away after Rukia giggled into her coffee cup like the adorable yet sophisticated woman she was; probably laughing at him for gaping at her like a love-struck idiot.
He was about to leave the establishment, promising himself that he was never going to come here on Friday mornings again since he made himself look like a weirdo in front of his crush. He was about to turn to the exit and leave, hoping that she wouldn't use this as a leverage to increase their hostility in the office. But before he knew it, he looked at her sitting form again, eyes widening the moment she waved at him(?).
He had to be dreaming, right? Never in a million years would K. Rukia wave at him, eyes friendly though there was that familiar wicked sheen in them and invite him over for something as banal as small chat. Though Rukia was good at that, creating long-winded banters to the point he could never keep up, he knew she knew about his notorious reputation at the office; in all honesty it was an open secret. Was this a trick? Did she want him to come over only for her to immediately leave the table all the while laughing her ass off while she elegantly sauntered out of the coffee shop?
He looked behind him, making sure she wasn't waving at someone else because he knew he would need to liquify immediately had she been waving at someone else.
Turning back towards her, he saw her rolling her eyes at him, and continued to wave at him. And then she chuckled, shoulders shaking. That was an incentive to walk over to her.
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Seconds passed as Ichigo continued to resituate himself on the wooden chair, barely registering that Rukia was finishing her magazine, one that wasn't a gossip magazine, but an international magazine reporting newsworthy events, while simultaneously laughing at his obvious discomfort.
"Um," he started. Smooth Kurosaki, real smooth. "What are you read –"
"You're not going to order a drink?"
"Huh?"
She turned to the final page, but instead of continuing to read, she looked at him, face impassive as ever but her eyes told a different story. "Aren't you here for a hot drink? You know, Mr. Kurosaki, it's rude to sit at a coffee shop, ordering nothing but staring at people. Even patrons using the WIFI here have the decency to order a drink and then sit for hours."
Ichigo glared at Rukia, whose relaxed face was attempting to fight off the smirk threatening to appear on her face. "I'm going to order. I thought it would be more polite to accept your invitation and sit here and attempt to talk to you first and then offer you another beverage."
She hummed as she was undoubtedly finishing the magazine before she could formulate more words to challenge him. Maybe she was reading to search for more vocabulary to use against him. What a calculative woman.
"Why invite me over to this table if you're not going to talk to me?" He huffed, knowing full well he was being petulant, but he thought her inviting him over meant they could start a conversation and get to know each other better, or at the very least, start something that didn't replicate the entirety of their current relationship: work, awkward stares – mostly him, both silent and verbal shading – mostly her, and finally, the unbearably close yet distant existent but nonexistent relationship they had.
"Stop pouting, Mr. Kurosaki." She still wasn't looking at him, resolute on finishing the last piece in the magazine before she even considered looking at him. "I invited you because you look like a lost goldfish, swimming in the vast sea of people who might have squashed you to death." She was finally done with the magazine and placed it down, but slowly did so, making Ichigo's frown even more pronounced, if that was possible. "If anything, you should be thanking me for inviting you over, seeing there's an extra chair here." She looked at her almost empty coffee cup and finished the last drop. "I'm going to the office now; you're welcome to stay here."
She wanted to burst out laughing at his face; he did look like a goldfish.
"But I just sat down."
"Yes?"
"You just invited me over."
Rukia sighed; this was going to be a long line of singular questions. Why didn't she just get up and leave already? But misery loves misery.
"Again, yes?"
"We still have time to chat a bit. You know, catch up before work."
Well, they could certainly do that, but why not at the office? Of course, both haven't exactly been forthcoming with each other.
"You have time, Mr. Kurosaki. Might I remind you that you often come in after 9am while I have less than an hour since I come in at 7:30am as so many of the secretaries at Shoten do."
She noticed that he wanted to say something but decided to respond with a quick yet soulless response of "Never mind." His frown changed into a deadly scowl, even the college girls from earlier who were seated nearby got frightened, but that didn't stop them from fawning over him.
Rukia placed the magazine in her briefcase, not sure what to feel or think about this situation. Maybe inviting him over wasn't the best idea. This man and his drastic mood swings, or frighteningly personality changes, were stupendous.
Still studying his furrowed lines on his face, she sighed and simply said, "A Cortado, please."
Ichigo looked at her, surprised etched on his face. "Eh?"
She rolled her eyes; this man certainly knew how to get her eyes rolling. "Didn't you say you were going to offer me a beverage?"
"Eh?" Then it clicked. She was going to stay, if only momentarily. "Right! A Cortado. Wait, please, just wait for me for a bit.".
She nodded, overwhelmed by his sudden burst of visible optimism; an order of that at this moment would make her crash and burn. "Okay, but please hurry, Mr. Kurosaki. It's the morning rush and I need all the coffee I can get a hold of." Rukia yawned, the all-nighter, expectedly, came crashing down on her.
Ichigo jumped up and nearly knocked his chair over, noticing that her eyes looked tired and red. "Okay, I'll be right back." And he hurriedly walked over to the growing long line of waiting coffee consumers
Rukia hummed; who knew there were so many Terminators living in Japan.
And for the next 25 minutes, after Ichigo returned with Rukia's Cortado and his own aromatic Flat white, they simply talked, letting words flow without hidden intent or sarcastic melodies from hindering their progress, conversing about nothing and everything.
Ichigo was grateful she was giving him this opportunity to just talk like colleagues and possible friends; Rukia was not only thankful for a free cup of expensive coffee, but for once, she was pleasantly surprised he didn't even try to smooth talk her, talking to her like a human being, an equal of sorts.
They talked with each other; they listened to each other, occasionally pausing to sip their hot drinks to break their heavily concentrated gazes at one another.
And almost every Fridays after that, Ichigo would find Rukia at the coffee shop at the same time, reading either the newspaper, a magazine, or a book while slowly sipping her coffee; even if she sat at different locations, she was always there, waving at Ichigo.
Casual Friday morning coffees gradually became their routine.
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One Friday morning after leaving a smirking Ichigo at the coffee shop, Rukia found herself being pulled into one of the many pristine and pleasantly smelling restrooms at Shoten.
She may be small, but she was a formidable MMA fighter. It may be early in the morning, but she was more than alert.
She looked up; almost everyone had to be a foot taller than her. "Yadōmaru-san?" This was interesting since Lisa was often cool and reserved and never acted, well, this impulsively.
"K." Lisa droned out, arms crossed, but worry was evident on her face.
Rukia looked around the restroom; was there a secret meeting she didn't know about? One that's held in the restroom, of all places. "Yes?"
"What's going on with you and Kurosaki? Did he say something that swayed you?" And then she grabbed Rukia's shoulders, shaking her almost a bit too aggressively, "Did he do something to you yet?"
Oh, this question again. Didn't she already answer this? Why bring it up again? Just because they had coffee for several consecutive Fridays didn't mean there was anything physical or sexual between them.
Another shake. "K.! It's okay, you can tell me. And then I can bring in my gang and we can teach him a lesson!"
"Yadōmaru-san, please stop shaking me! I'm getting disoriented and dizzy here." The shaking finally stopped and Rukia took a moment to breathe. "What kind of gang are we talking about, Yadōmaru-san?"
"Oh, sorry, sorry. We'll it's not like I'm in the yakuza, K., but I'm in this club called the Visored, where we just learn sword skills and fight each other to get stronger. You know, fighting with friends without killing each other. Actually, Kurosaki is a member as well; he's not the most agile, but one of the strongest and fastest, but you know, all of us teaming up on him might do the trick."
Rukia blinked, processing the information. "Oh, so like fight club? How violent of you. And please don't murder someone on my behalf, Yadōmaru-san."
"It's not like that, and let's not digress here. I know how clever you can be. Answer me, K. Did something happen between you and Kurosaki? And don't get into your long soliloquies; you may be poetic, but this is serious. I want a clear answer."
Rukia answered with an honest yet simple no.
"Really? Then why are you two always walking together every Friday mornings? Kurosaki is never one to be at work that early, especially on a Friday."
Shrugging, Rukia responded, "We sometimes meet at the coffee shop nearby and we just talk and sometimes after I leave, he leaves. I'm not sure how fast he is, but he usually catches up with me and we sometimes walk to the office together. Idle chat and equally unremarkable conversations."
"You make it sound so – technically bland."
"Well, that's all there is to it."
Lisa regarded Rukia, walking around her in circles as if she was the interrogator; Rukia stifled a giggle. Lisa was like that older sister who had to be the protective guardian, a strong female figure that she never had growing up.
"You're like a little sister to me, K. I don't want you to be one of Kurosaki's bedwarmers. God knows he has a line of them waiting to be handcuffed to his bed."
The image, oh the image. It was going to haunt her for the rest of the day. "Yadōmaru-san, I thank you for your concern. But can't a woman and a man just have a platonic relationship and be friends?" She probably knew the answer to that, or maybe she really didn't; those kinds of questions were not only complex but sometimes one-sided.
"With you, yes. But it's a different story with Kurosaki. Have you even seen the way he looks at you?"
"Like what? A secretary handcuffed to his bed?"
They both nearly dropped dead on the clean bathroom floor tiles due to their uncontrollable laughter.
Lisa was the first to recover, after some deep breaths, she coughed and continued, "You really don't know?"
"No?"
Lisa rolled her eyes. "For someone as robotically smart as you, K., you sure are dense when it comes to men. He's giving you that look. Not really that come-hither look, which is surprising, but the look when someone you desire is there but unreachable."
Okay, Lisa was reading too many shojo manga; that and she was sure she wasn't that attractive nor was she the model type secretary that Kurosaki went for. "I think you're being a bit too over-imaginative, Yadōmaru-san. I'm not his type." She pushed her glasses back in their comfortable position.
Never truly breaking her stare from Rukia, Lisa mimicked her, pushing her own glasses back into place, and calmly asked, "Because you're not a secretary waiting to be handcuffed by him?"
The joke should have expired after the first time, but they were both coolly crude, something unknown by outsiders. And outside, Rukia's and Lisa's lively laughter and howling cries could be heard in the restroom, and it startled the maintenance staff as no one laughed like that on an early Friday morning.
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"Hey," Ichigo mumbled a bit too softly as he passed by Rukia's desk.
"Hi, Mr. Kurosaki," Rukia greeted, more like sang, as she nodded in acknowledgement and then immediately went back to scrolling and clicking.
They both weren't sure how long it was, but Ichigo remained rooted there, standing with a soft smile, looking over the building's interior as he listened to the tapping sounds of Rukia's keyboard.
Rukia fully turned her chair to give Ichigo a look, who was unaware of her careful scrutiny, remembering her conversation with Lisa.
After laughing and scaring one of the maintenance staff, they collected themselves, making sure that no one heard them being this obnoxious.
Lisa took out a cloth and started cleaning her glasses, which was stained by her tears. "So, you're telling me that you're not interested in him?" She looked at Rukia, and clarified, "As in moving on towards something more physical."
There was a slight hesitation, which Lisa noticed.
"I knew it. He's charmed you."
Of course, Kurosaki was charming, she already admitted that much. But to be in a relationship with someone who had a secretary of the month? She didn't want to be a part of that.
"I do admit that he's charming, but like I've told you multiple times, Yadōmaru-san, I really can't afford to be in a relationship with someone at work. That's just too much baggage. I'm not some expendable woman – no women should be – and I can respect Mr. Kurosaki's non-monogamous relationships, but I don't intend to be one of the many."
"So, you wouldn't mind if I set you up on a date?"
Ichigo waved his hand in front of her; she blinked. "Earth to Rukia."
"Present."
"Any phone calls while I was in the meeting?"
She shook her head, pleased that no one called for their Kurosaki-kun or Ichigo. "Why? Were you expecting a call from someone?" Maybe one of his many partners couldn't get a hold of him and wanted to schedule a tryst.
His face reddened, but he maintained his cool composure, something Rukia didn't think he was capable of having. He probably understood what she was implying. "No, I was just checking."
She hummed; since she heard her brother humming after firing her, she's made it a habit to hum when in deep thought; Kuchikis inherit the oddest quirks from one another; and turned to face him smiling too sweetly at him. "But I should be expecting a call from someone right?" She arched an eyebrow.
"No!" Gosh! Did she not notice that he hasn't been calling other girls since they started seeing each other every Friday? Either Rukia was too dim to recognize that he was interested in her, or she wasn't experienced in relationships in general. He thought she was with him. Shouldn't she recognize non-verbal cues?
Wait, did those Friday morning coffees count as dates?
"Rukia," he started, but faltered, too afraid to ask that question and equally frightened to hear her scoff and tell him those Friday morning coffees with him meant absolutely nothing to her.
Her phone buzzed. It was Ikkaku. Smiling apologetically, but still a bit too saccharine for Ichigo, she said, in that horrible Brooklyn accent again, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kurosaki. I gotta take this call. Chat later."
She sauntered away from him, laughing as she said, "Moshi, moshi."
Ichigo released a defeated breath as he stared at her disappearing form.
"Kurosaki."
Ichigo turned left and came face-to-face the one and only Lisa.
Shit, I thought I attended last week's training session. Or, did I forget again because I was too busy screwing around?
That was over five weeks ago, when he was still sleeping around.
Ichigo nervously glanced at Lisa; he was her superior yes, but she could be scary and wasn't one to be messed with, especially when she holds a spear. He also respected her too much to even attempt anything; in a way, she was one of his many senpais. But he couldn't read Lisa, her glasses seemed to have hidden her intent.
"Can we talk somewhere private?"
Oh boy. What did he do now? "Sure, let's go into my office."
Immediately after his door shut, Lisa calmly started her interrogation, her warning, whichever he preferred. "Don't screw with K., Kurosaki."
"What?! I'm not screwing around with Rukia!"
"Okay, good. Then don't lead her on and don't try anything on her."
His faced reddened, but not because he was embarrassed, but because he was angry; so very infuriated at his friend and employee.
"It's none of your goddamn business, Lisa. But just to let you know, I'm not screwing around with or leading her on."
"So, you're telling me you don't want to have coitus with her?"
His face turned crimson, both because of embarrassment because it was quite true. That and Lisa must have been reading a lot of hentai magazines lately. He was physically attracted to Rukia, yes, but he promised himself he wouldn't try anything on her. She wasn't like the other secretaries; she already made that clear.
"Your silence is everything, Kurosaki. I'm telling you now, she isn't just your usual secretary of the week. She has a brain, much bigger than yours and everyone's combined here. Be a decent human being for once and stay away from her. Well, besides work."
Before he was able to put in a word to defend himself, she continued, "She's a monogamist, Kurosaki. You're not. That's the reality."
Ichigo turned to face his desk, unable to face Lisa's wrath. He took in a deep breath as everything seemed to be catching up on him. Some bad decisions and wondered how one person can change his perspective and life so much. Was it realistic? Or did he simply want to conquer and maintain his conquests?
"What if I want to start a relationship with her?" The question was almost inaudible that Lisa had to edge a bit closer to hear him correctly.
"Really, Kurosaki? One woman who happens to be your secretary, who doesn't want to bed you and you automatically want to date her? Is this one of your sexual fantasies or perverted games?"
Ichigo was beyond angry, but he willed himself to calm down again, knowing that Lisa had the right to be guarded when it came to his personal life choices; he really couldn't blame her.
He finally turned to face her. "I don't know how to explain it, Lisa, but I am attracted to her. It's more than lust, it's just – something else," he finished lamely.
Lisa shook her head. "I'm sorry for being so harsh, Kurosaki, but I've grown quite fond of K., that miniature weirdo, a genius one too, and she doesn't deserve to be discarded by anyone like you."
Anyone like me huh? Does Rukia perceive me to be that way? Figures. I deserve it.
"And she's going on a date with Kensei tomorrow."
Wait, huh? Muguruma Kensei?
"What the hell, Lisa?! Did you set them up?"
She shrugged, pulling out another piece of gum Rukia gave her after their stint in the restroom from her pocket. "I asked K. if she had a boyfriend."
Ichigo was interested, eyes widening and anticipating the answer.
"She does."
It was the end of the world for him.
"Excuse me, she did." Lisa tried not to smirk but chose to blow a sugary bubble; Rukia's dark sense of humor was transferring over her; it was great to be a part of her life, utter brilliance. "She had a boyfriend during her graduate and post-doctorate years; they were in a seven-year relationship, cohabiting with one another. Apparently, he was a hot one."
Seven years! Though Ichigo had several sex partners, they only lasted a few months, though he did ring them up once in a while. But seven years felt like an eternity. Could he really do that? Be in a relationship with one person forever?
"And tell me why you decided to set her up with Kensei?"
Another bubble pop. "He was the first name that came to mind. And apparently K. has a thing for men with tattoos."
Lisa left Ichigo's office, trying to fight off a snicker after seeing his face.
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Rukia was quietly laughing as she listened to Ikkaku's praises on her latest op-ed. "Don't flatter me, Ikkaku. You know you can be honest with me; if you don't like it, you can tell me. I won't get mad at you."
He howled in laughter, which hurt her ear drums a bit "Don't like it? K., the title alone is enough to win a prize: 'A Subtle Shade.' Equals ASS. I'm pissing on myself just saying it."
"Har har har, Ikkaku. What do you think about the content?" She rolled her eyes when he said amazing. I'm going to need more than flattery and adjectives, Ikkaku."
"You know damn well how good this piece is, K. You were direct and seriously cutting the bastard with your words as you framed this piece as a meditation on the art of shading." He started laughing again; Rukia could practically hear tears streaming down his eyes, messing up his red eyeshadow.
"Okay, well, if you have nothing substantial to describe it. Let's talk about it next week. And be sure not to mention it in Nii-sama's presence, or he will have your head."
"Pft. I ain't afraid of your brother."
She smirked. "Oh yeah, then why don't you quit?"
Silence and some wheezing can be heard.
He finally cleared his throat and seriously said, "I'm called into his office as we speak. Yumichika and me will catch up with you next Friday. See ya."
"That's what I thought. See you then."
"Keep writing, K."
"Keep telling yourself that, Ikkaku. I bet you have a lot of backlogs."
"Why you –"
"Bye," she crooned and ended the call and chuckled. She turned around and started walking back to her designated desk, greeting everyone pleasantly. It was a good day.
Until she saw Kurosaki's intensely ugly scowl that decorated his face. Wasn't he semi-content when she left to take this call? Or did Urahara make him read over more reports?
With steps that never wavered, she walked in a straight line, noticing Lisa saluting her and blowing a pink bubble. She saluted her back. Black haired girls with glasses unite. Oh, that would be an excellent theme song for an anime series.
"Rukia," his voice was tense as he greeted her again.
She stared at him as she repositioned herself on her chair. "Hi, Mr. Kurosaki."
She looked at her desk, no new reports or assignments so far.
"Rukia," he said again.
This was getting weird. Did someone activate Groundhog Day on her? Must she continue repeating his name?
She did anyway and used her same inflection and tone; might as well continue the spiritual legacy of the film. "Hi, Mr. Kurosaki."
They stared at each other and she swore she saw a sheen of sadness hidden behind his amber orbs. But she also knew he was passive to the point that he won't share any of his burdens and she wasn't going to pry. If he wanted to talk, she would listen. If he didn't, well freedom to her ears.
He stared at her for a longer moment and nodded with a sigh and reentered his office.
She stared straight ahead, observing Lisa diligently and quietly typing at her designated desk, attempting to solve the puzzle. Did she say something to Kurosaki during her absence?
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She didn't see Kurosaki on Monday; he was traveling with Urahara for a business meeting, and good thing she wasn't required to travel with them because she was beyond tired. That and she called Kurosaki on Sunday, expecting him to be busy with someone, but he was there, who seemed happy yet surprised she called.
"Rukia?"
"Good morning, Mr. Kurosaki." She heard some shuffling. "Oh, I apologize, are you busy?"
"No, I was just working out."
She raised her right eyebrow. Was this a euphemism for sex?
He seemed to have noticed his choice of words. "Shit. I meant, I just got back from the gym."
He didn't have to explain himself to her, but sure, honesty was always nice. "Oh, I see. I was calling to ask if you needed me on Monday. If not, could I request the day off?"
She heard him grumbling and heard something about date. Was he talking about himself? Was he going on a date? If so, why make it so audible to her?
"Why do you need a day off, Rukia? Are you seeing someone?"
"I do have an important appointment, yes."
"Personal?"
"You can say that, yes."
He shakily released a breathe.
"To clarify, Mr. Kurosaki. I'm meeting a former mentor of mine. I haven't seen him in years and he's rarely in Karakura. I thought I could catch up with him. That and to use this as leverage against you, I did complete your annual reports three weeks in advance and then I also typed your press releases and drafted three AI manuals. These are projects that you should be doing, not your mere secretary who is just trying to file, both her nails and the digital database, in which I also secured for Shoten. In many cases, you should be the one working harder, not me, the poor secretary."
"Are you threatening me, Rukia!? I'm your boss." But she could identify some elation in his voice.
"And you must be very proud of yourself, Mr. Kurosaki, knowing that you have a secretary who does everything for you."
He grumbled again, muttering something she could barely make out. "Fine, you can have a day off."
"Bless your heart! Thank you, may you live long and prosper." She giggled.
He laughed, sarcastically. "But – but I will see you tomorrow, right?" He sounded hesitant, dare she say, hopeful.
"Yes, of course, I'll be there. What kind of secretary would I be if I left you stranded for two consecutive days?"
"The awful kind."
"On second thought. I might just magically disappear in space. Farewell, Mr. Kurosaki!"
"Hey, now wait a minute, Rukia! Don't you dare hang up now. Rukia!"
After hanging up, her eyes lingered on her call history, smiling at the most recent number.
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That same day, she met up with Kaien and Ukitake-sensei, discussing her very well-received piece; apparently, it was talked about and Kageyoshi Press, had to release a press statement, surprisingly, not a press conference, about ASS' writing. For once, he was being questioned and held accountable for his damaging pieces. But one of the elders who blatantly showed his disdain towards Rukia, informed the masses that K.R., was no longer associated with Kageyoshi, and so her words should not be taken seriously. He even had the audacity to say that her piece was written as vengeance against her former employer. That was code for: Kuchiki Rukia is a traitor, but we can't tell the public that K.R. is Kuchiki Rukia.
She wasn't one to damn her relatives, but she was close to it.
But then Ukitake-sensei warmly and kindly congratulated her on her piece and asked if she wanted to become a book editor for Shiro-Shiro Press.
"It's been years since we last saw each other, Kuchiki, but I'm really proud of your work, as you should be yourself." He smiled at her. "We're an upcoming press, but we'll be honored if you joined our team."
Rukia tried to subdue her blush from appearing as the two most important men in her life sat in front of her. "Ukitake-sensei, I'm grateful for your kindness, but it's a risk to hire me. I'm the disgraced family member of the Kuchiki clan. You'll get bad press."
Ukitake waved a hand, his smile was still very much present, unchanged after all these years. "Nonsense. We're lucky to have you. It's awful, but no one really knows that K.R. is Kuchiki Rukia, yes? The media hasn't reported on Kuchiki Rukia for some months now. No one really knows why Kuchiki Rukia has disappeared from the Kuchiki family."
A reason why pen names were highly valued in the Kuchiki clan. While heiress Kuchiki Rukia was disgraced, K.R. could be anyone, a bitter, vengeful anyone.
Kaien sipped his water. "Besides, Kuchiki, if you work with Ukitake-sensei, you don't have to use a pen name; you'll see your name proudly and boldly published underneath your creative titles. I never understood why your brother never published your name on your pieces, preferring to use K.R. If anything, that's a disservice to you and your writing eloquence."
She did really blush this time. "Kaien-senpai, you –"
He laughed. "Aw. Who knew little Kuchiki could get embarrassed? You're usually cool as ice with a humor to boot. This is the first, right, sensei?"
Ukitake didn't answer, but his smile said everything.
"What is it, Kuchiki? You in?"
She beamed. For the first time, she didn't have to live and write like a ghost, existing only for the Kuchiki clan but non-existent to the readers.
"It's a yes."
"Cheers!" Kaien raised his Moscow mule in joy.
"Thank you, Ukitake-sensei. I'll need some time to tell my – " She really hated using the word boss to describe Ichigo, but he fit the criteria for now. "Boss. Can I have at least a month?"
He shook his head. "I'm confident in your abilities, Kuchiki. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. And yes, of course, take your time. We're still finalizing the building's location, rent, and such."
Kaien finished his beer, content with the flavor. "By the way Kuchiki, do you think you can write another piece for me?"
"Already stealing her away from me, Kaien?"
"No, no, sensei!" Kaien stopped, deciding to talk a bit lower, "A tip called in and has some information about Aizen, and wants to talk to you. I think they're a legitimate source."
Rukia's eyes shined not because she was bent on retribution but did want to follow up with her other pieces Espada published.
"Sure, I would love to talk to them."
Kaien grinned. "I knew you would."
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As usual, Lisa and Rukia had lunch together, sometimes staying at Shoten, lounging and dining in the common's area, or Rukia driving them somewhere away from the office. They both wanted air where wires and smart metals were not omnipresent.
Slurping on some udon, Lisa swallowed and asked, "You weren't here yesterday so I couldn't ask. How did the date with Kensei go?"
Rukia shrugged, munching on a daikon. "It was just one date. I didn't expect anything." She looked at Lisa. "Were you expecting something to happen, Yadōmaru-san?"
"No, in fact, Kensei told me you were charming and according to him, he didn't expect you to be so short. Because from my very detailed description of you, he expected you to be tall; don't get him wrong, he said you had some nice legs. For a shorty."
Rukia bristled when she heard the word: short. It wasn't descriptive, but it sure haunted her. She would like to think she was petite.
"Come on, K. I know you have a height complex, but Kensei did say you were hot."
She slurped her noodles, something her Nii-sama would glare at her for, refusing to humor Lisa.
"Hey, don't get upset with me. I'm just the messenger."
"Actually, you're the parrot, Yadōmaru-san."
"But he also said that you didn't seem that interested in him."
"That's true, but what he didn't also tell you was that he, encapsulated in his very serious, dark aura, didn't think we were compatible either."
Lisa nodded, setting her wooden chopsticks down. "He did say something like that, but he thought maybe another date or so would have happened."
"It's fine. Sometimes one date leads to expected results."
"That means no second date?"
"It was already established between us, but please tell Muguruma-san going bowling and then him forgetting his tattoo appointment and then asking if I could come with him so we wouldn't prematurely end our date will forever remain as my most memorable date."
Lisa had to maintain her composure because she almost lost it. "He did not."
"Indeed, he did."
"He didn't share this with me. What did he get this time?"
"He initially asked for what he described as a hollow mask, and he described it very specifically and even provided a sketch, but because his face scared the artist so much, making him twitch in fear every so often, he ended up getting a deformed Jason mask on his forearm. Halloween will forever be imprinted on him. Such a fantastic story: I was present for a tattoo that he regretted, and it wasn't even my fault."
Lisa and Rukia stared at each other, silently promising each other not to laugh in public, but this was proven to be too difficult; their faces were turning red due to a lack of oxygen.
After being politely asked to leave the udon shop, Rukia and Lisa talked about hanging out less because they couldn't stop laughing with each other. But in the end, they decided that everyone could go to hell if they were forbidden to laugh heartily and healthily.
Not every establishment needed to abide by the cold Kuchiki conduct.
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Ichigo read over the reports Rukia emailed him and then looked at his window where Rukia was; she was reading another gossip magazine, continuing her performance as the prototypical secretary. He wondered how her date with Kensei went, knowing it wasn't any of his business. He had no right to ask.
He noticed that she and Lisa went to lunch together and most likely talked about the date. Rubbing his neck, Ichigo still couldn't imagine Rukia giggling like a high school as she revealed her fantastic date with a handsome, older, tattooed man. That image was so unlike Rukia. And Lisa was tightlipped about it as well, and Ichigo knew better than to ask her. He hasn't seen lately at their meetings lately, which baffled him. Kensei never missed a training session.
All this thinking and hypotheticals were tiresome, dragging him down. He needed some coffee.
A knock. It was Rukia.
Instead of commanding her to enter, he got up and opened the door for her.
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Kurosaki. Here's a cup of freshly brewed coffee."
How did she know? He stared at her, amazed and perhaps even falling a bit more for her simple act of kindness. A few days ago, he saw her chatting with one of the maintenance staff, idly chatting with him as he was wiping the windows. Such a small gesture, but it meant the world to the employee as she gifted him a box of donuts she picked up after learning that his youngest son loved sweets.
"What?"
"I noticed you usually drink a cup around 3pm. I was getting some coffee and thought I should be nice once in a while and bring you a cup. Here."
He took the cup and stared at her, wanting to know about her date with Kensei, but instead, he should just ask her out on a real date and get to know the real K. Rukia. If she was willing to go on a date with Kensei, then maybe he had a chance, too. The only difference between Kensei and himself was that the former never had any casual flings that bit him back in the ass.
Rukia, on the other hand, was getting confused. Did Kurosaki want to ask her something? The way he was staring at her was a bit unnerving; it wasn't unwelcomed, everyone always stared at each other, but that look was something that she never associated with the big bad boss. Lisa's words saturated her entire brain as she recalled what she said previously.
"Well, if you don't need anything else, I'll be outside."
"Wait, Rukia, do you –"
Urahara called him. Bucket hat always knew when to ruin the moment, or at the very least, a guy's chances.
"What do you want, Urahara-san?"
"We have a visitor, Kurosaki-kun," he sang happily.
Ichigo wanted to curse his partner, but then again, it wasn't like he could muster enough courage to ask Rukia on a date. But then again, who knew if he was able to go through with it had Urahara not interrupted.
Rukia simply waved at him, pitying him a bit because that man meant trouble and walked away from him. Yet again.
"Who is it?" he couldn't help but snarl.
"Long time no see, Ichigo," she greeted, and he could visibly see her fangs protruding from her mouth, wanting to eat him alive as she humiliated him.
He gulped.
"Kurosaki-kun, I found a new investor. You remember Yoruichi-san, right? Your aunt from another mother?"
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Yoruichi and Urahara cackled together as they indolently walked over to Ichigo's office. As they were speaking in hushed tones, occasionally touching each other's arms in a suggestive manner, someone caught Yoruichi's eyes.
Wasn't that little Byakuya's sister, Rukia? What was she doing here? She knew that something major happened in the Kuchiki clan and that Rukia was at the center of it, but no one knew what happened since she somewhat disappeared from the public eye. She was sure it wasn't scandalous, but the over-dramatic bunch that was the Kuchikis made it seem so, especially when the spunky and quirky Kuchiki was involved. She always liked that kid. She was not only intelligent, but too hilarious for her own good. She was the malfunctioned Kuchiki chip that they didn't want because she wasn't a part of their norm, all the more to appreciate her.
"Kisuke, who's that?"
"Ahhh. You also noticed an air about her, Yoruichi-san? That's K.-san."
"K.?"
Tipping his hat lower, he responded, "Yes, K. Rukia."
Was she an investor here too? Why didn't the Kuchikis announce anything? And why did she only refer to herself as K.? As she thought about it, she realized that maybe Rukia was using another shortened name to blend in. Because everyone here were clearly idiots if they didn't know who she was. She wondered if the Kuchikis knew about her brilliant op-ed, "A Subtle Shade?" She was rolling around the carpet as she read that piece. It was humorously written and scathing but her writing was within the topical scope of the current malpractices of current journalism.
"K. Rukia?" It was definitely Kuchiki Rukia; no one else had that name.
"Yes, she's Kurosaki-kun's secretary. And you know what that means." He hid his smile.
"Oh?" She grinned. Oh, this was going to be so fun.
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Rukia was positive she saw Shihōin-san's long purple hair. Unless it was just someone's wig floating around the building, it had to be her. She went back to her desk and looked at the recently updated files comprising of Shoten's investors and donors. She usually didn't keep track of these files because Urahara, who was the only partner who didn't have a secretary because he didn't want to use his technology production budget to pay for someone else's salary, exploiting other secretaries such as herself, to do his work. And there it was: ShihōinYoruichi of the Onmitsukidō Conglomerate was one of the many investors at Shoten.
She only met her twice, but from what Hisana told her, she and Byakuya were never friends, maybe they could be described as friendly adversaries at best. For some reason, both had a falling out because Yoruichi had zero patience for their family's unfairly outdated journalistic practices related to business and media and wasn't going to be become their main publishing head. Or something similar. Hisana didn't say much and she didn't push for additional information.
Kaien was calling her again, no doubt inquiring about her latest piece she was steadily working on. Her tip's trauma was too much and resurfaced after revealing what Aizen did to her, which also infuriated her. So, they only spoke every few days for an hour. She didn't see her sources as simply expendable and printable sources, but people who deserved time and space. This piece didn't have a deadline, not that it was important; her source's comfort was more of a top priority than anything else.
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Where was Rukia when you needed her long-winded stories and quips?
He sometimes hated his young aunt's cat-like grin, it made her look feral. She was sitting on his chair, sitting like a meditative lotus on his chair and purred, "So, Ichigo, I heard you got a new secretary."
"I bet bucket hat told you."
Picking up one of his silver and black pens – his typical aesthetic, how predictably boring of him – and suavely twirled it around her fingers. "And if he did?"
He didn't respond, arms crossing as he looked away, hiding yet another blush.
Oh, this boy has it bad. I wonder why her? She's not his usual type. Actually, she's way more than his type.
"Ichigo, as your aunt," he interrupted her lecture.
"You're not my biological aunt, Yoruichi-san. You were my mother's best friend. I only called you aunt because my mother asked me to."
She dropped his pen, letting it roll until it fell off his dark oak desk; it was a symbolism of his imminent death, he knew it; his aunt languidly cracked her knuckles. "What were you saying?"
He was defiant, but produced nothing but his signature scowl, which didn't scare – he wished – her or deter her. "Just as I thought. As I was saying, she looks way out of your league. Don't screw with her, Ichigo. She's definitely not like the others." That and little Byakuya would have his head if he knew such a man with – a scandalously sexually active life – were to taint his sister. As much as she liked to tease Byakuya, Rukia deserved so much better. Those Kuchikis did a number on her, but she prevailed, getting the last word, and she didn't want to see her nephew making her life a living hell when she just got reincarnated into a new life. It was Ichigo's choice to have an active sex life with multiple partners, but she knew that Rukia wasn't like that. Wasn't she with that one guy forever before they broke up? Not that Rukia needed any protection. Her words alone could kill someone. She should know, she nearly died of laughter.
"Do you know Rukia personally, Yoruichi-san?"
"Well, we just properly met at this place."
First it was Lisa lecturing him about staying away from Rukia and now his own non-biological aunt. Were they attempting to tell him something? Was he not good enough for her?
Well, duh, Ichigo.
"Look, Ichigo. You're an annoying nephew that I wished I never had, but what can I do? I normally don't interfere with your life choices because your father does that enough." She tittered when he cursed his father under his breath. "But like I said, and this may sound hurtful to you, but you need to hear it, she's just out of your league. Look elsewhere. But not her."
Ichigo was growing irritated by the minute. Sure, yes, he agreed, she was way out of his league, but he liked her, not just physically, wasn't that enough? Didn't they see how he was not sleeping around anymore? He also slowly stopped flirting with the other secretaries in the building. He wanted Rukia in his life. He would like to try and be in a relationship with her, but if she didn't want him like that, he could respect that and be her friend. He just wanted to be in her life.
He was about to tell off his aunt, but she already disappeared. Still quick and agile like Houdini. Walking over to his desk, he saw a digital op-ed on his screen.
"A Subtle Shade" by K.R.
K.R.? Who the hell is that? And did his aunt bring it up to subtly shade him?
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Rukia was on the building's rooftop for the first time, looking at beautiful autumn sky. For once she felt a sense of tranquility that she never experienced. Everything was going well, almost too well, but if something changed suddenly, she just had to adapt. That was part of survival.
"I never expected to see the Kuchiki Rukia here, but I guess it makes sense since your main fields of expertise are in engineering and the STEM fields."
That voice had to belong to her. The role model she never knew she had.
"Hello, Yoruichi-san."
She grinned and walked over to Rukia, patting her on the head. "Don't be so formal with me, Rukia. You know Hisana and I are good friends; we have tea twice a month, and poor Byakuya has to deal with it."
She nodded and smiled, that rare, non-sarcastic smile. "I didn't know you were an investor here at Shoten. I didn't even know the Shihōin family were interested in startup techs."
Yoruichi coughed, but eventually couldn't hide her snicker. "Well, not really. But someone persuaded me in an unusual way, and it got me more excited about the unlimited potentials of the future. You know what I mean?"
Rukia had to blink a couple of times, shaking her head. "I don't believe I do. Could you elaborate?"
Crouching in disbelief, Yoruichi stared at her. She didn't think Rukia was this slow when it came to innuendos; she couldn't even comprehend the context. "Uh, Rukia?"
"Yes?"
"How old are you?"
What did age have to with becoming an investor?
"25."
"Wait, you went to grad school when you were still a kid?"
"No, I was 16, but yes, I was technically still attempting to adult as a kid while trying hard to finish two graduate degrees before I turned 24. Contrary to what the Big Bang Theory depicts, I'm not socially clueless."
"Could have fooled me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Rukia, the presentation pitch," she started again.
"Yes?" she seemed actually interested to know about the pitch. Either she was a robot, or she was just a curious person by nature.
"It was just me and Kisuke having sex, and I agreed during the throes of passion, and so now I'm kind of stuck with him."
"Oh, I see. I thought that may have been the case but didn't want to assume."
What? "I thought you didn't understand the context."
"Well, you said you were excited about the potentials of the future. I didn't know if you meant it literally or it was simply an innuendo. I needed the full context just to make sure I didn't offend you."
Once again, Yoruichi wanted to die from laughter; the laughing disease caused by Rukia. "Oi, Kuchiki. You make everything sound so technical, even my sex life."
Rukia snickered, delighting Yoruichi. "Someone else told me that."
"Tell me about ASS."
…
"Oh, Rukia. Only an idiot couldn't place two and two together. Even Kisuke knew K.R. is Kuchiki Rukia. That's why he's been overworking you. He knows you're more than capable of running this place but knows that you prefer to be the intelligent underdog. And he knows that you won't be staying here long. Besides, for someone with a proclivity with words and deconstructing them, you sure have the most unoriginal pen name."
"And yet he still pays me less than he should," Rukia chimed in, a bit ruffled about her lack of originality when it came to her pen name. It was prudent and strategic. Okay, maybe she lacked originality on that one.
"Is he now? Don't worry, if he's withholding your salary, let me know. I'll deal with him. You know what I mean?" She laughed a bit too morbidly, thinking of new ways to torture her not quite lover.
"I'm afraid not. Are you going to withhold sex from him until he pays me fairly?"
Yoruichi decided to leave the rooftop before Rukia really did kill her. That girl sure knew how to use words as a crude reiteration. Good thing this conversation was off the record.
"By the way, Rukia," she stopped walking, thinking of how to phrase this question clearly.
"Yes?"
"What's going on between you and Ichigo?"
That question was definitely overstaying its welcome.
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Ichigo sat at the coffee shop, shaking his right leg out of nervous habit. It was a little past 7am and Rukia still didn't appear.
He sipped his black coffee, wondering if his dreadfully delightful aunt said something to her three days ago. He did notice that Rukia trailed behind Yoruichi, and the latter was squeezing her shoulder as if comforting her. Not that Rukia needed anyone to comfort, but they must have been talking about something.
Or someone. Like him.
Did his aunt say something bad about him? He confessed; he's not the best or most decent guy, but he was quite reliable. If offered the chance, he could –
Rukia walked in, hair a little out of place because it was either bed head or the aggressive winds today caused such disarray to her hair. Either way, she was still beautiful.
This time he waved at her.
Attempting to use her fingers as a makeshift comb, she walked over to him smiling.
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End Notes:
I thought this was the final chapter, but I couldn't fit everything I wanted to in this chapter. I'm as long-winded as Rukia's character. But, hope you enjoyed; next chapter will be uploaded sometime. By the way, I cracked up at how many people hated Ichigo's character. Sorry?