A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to my kind reviewers! I dedicate this chapter to you and to those who decided they like this enough to want to keep up with it. You know who you are. ;)

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Oh god. Oh god.

Here it comes. Any moment now, this stunningly attractive barmaid was going to realize what had so thoughtlessly came out of his mouth, turn around and tell everyone at the bar what an inarticulate dick he was, and they would all have one great, big laugh. Then, Isshin and Urahara would come rushing over out of nowhere because they would never miss an opportunity to laugh at Ichigo's expense, bellow "Ichigo said WHAT?" incredulous that anyone could be so glib, and start guffawing so hard they keeled over, unable to breathe. In the midst of all the laughter, all Ichigo would be able to do was hope that if he prayed hard enough, the Earth underneath him would open its maws and swallow him whole, sending him deep into its mantle before he combusted at its core. And as his soul ascended (or descended) to the afterlife, heavenly music would play to the chorus of "Thanks, you too...Thanks, you too…"

It was all very melodramatic, but all very real possibilities in Ichigo's mind.

He braced himself for the fallout, but none ever came.

Instead, Orihime blinked twice, and giggled and smiled so wide, her dimples seemed deep enough for Ichigo to press his fingers into. He felt heat creep up his neck, whether it was the after burns of his embarrassment or way she laughed, he couldn't be sure.

"I'll give you a moment to decide. But if you need any suggestions, just let me know!" Orihime winked. "If you'll please excuse me."

Another slight bow, and she whisked away to tend to other beckoning patrons.

As a bartender, or barmaid, Orihime was dressed modestly and professionally. Jeweled turquoise hair pins held her hair back from her face. A pencil skirt hugged her curves. Her ruffled white button-up blouse was clasped at the neck by a satin maroon ribbon that sat at her collar. A sleeveless vest jacket that matched her skirt completed the yes-I'm-serving-you-but-no-I'm-not-for-sale look that differed from the barmaids at many other places where the drinks were not really the selling point. It had the sexy allure of somebody who was good at her job and didn't need to rely on any other assets to help her. Not that she was lacking in any.

Honestly, it was kind of working for Ichigo. Him, and the rest of the guys here. God, he was no better than the chauvinistic, horndog asshole next to him. But Ichigo found it hard to relinquish her from his gaze. He watched as Orihime flitted from task to task—taking orders, making drinks, processing payments, pleasing customers and making sure they were having a good time— it should have been impossible for a single girl to do. But somehow, she managed it all, and never once did she let down the curve of a smile on her face. Every customer she spoke to, she beamed and looked at them like they were the most important person in the world. And they ate it up—lavished themselves in her cheer and hospitality. She captivated men and even women. In fact, one young woman with red hair and half-moon glasses was literally falling over herself when Orihime was attending to her. She tried to make a grab to hold Orihime in her arms, but was so drunk she ended up planting her face onto the bar counter. Orihime didn't seem too troubled by it, though, as she just laughed at the other woman's comical reaction.

So engrossed in ogling her (Ichigo was pretty sure that was what it looked like he was doing), Ichigo almost didn't notice her approaching him.

"Have you given some thought about what you might be interested in, 'Berry-san? Do you need any help?"

"I...wait, 'Berry-san'? Did you—how did guess at my name? My name is Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo. You made a play on my name without me even telling you what it was."

Orihime's hand snapped up to her lips, her voice and demeanor a mixture of surprise, sheepishness, and embarrassment.

"I-I apologize for being so forward, Kurosaki-kun. I...It's just…" Ichigo could have been imagining it, but even in the lower lighting, he thought he could make out a tinge of pink in her cheeks. "Your hair. It reminds me of strawberries."

"It's not too far off from the color of yours."

Orihime smiled again, but this time it seemed far away instead of her usual thousand-watts. "When I was younger, people use to bully me for my hair. They'd pull it, smear things into it, they'd chase me with a pair of scissors and try to cut it off. But you know what?" She leaned down so to her face was level to his, and she whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "I think yours is beautiful."

No. I think you're beautif—

"Oh, Ichigo! I see you're already getting acquainted with Inoue-san."

Urahara motherfucking! Kisuke. This man just swept the board for some high honors: one for being Most Annoying, Inconvenient Son of a Bitch, and another for World's Biggest Boner Killer.

Not that Ichigo had one. Buzzkill probably would have been a better way to put it, but dammit if this man didn't plan his entries.

Oblivious to Ichigo's inner fury, Orihime happily greeted Urahara like an old friend. "It's always a pleasure to see you. Is Yoruichi-san with you today?"

"Unfortunately, no. But she says she misses you, and sends her love."

"It must be exciting," Orihime lowered her voice so no one possibly eavesdropping could hear. "To travel the world and live a life of espionage. But I can only imagine how hard it is for you, Urahara-san."

Urahara's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Somehow, I find myself in situations that keep me busy. So it's not too bad.

"Now, can a lonely man trouble you to help him forget his pains with a little bit of poison? I think a glass of your finest scotch will do. Neat, please, and don't hold back—I'm being treated tonight. And...perhaps one of your famous cupcake martinis for Berry-san over here. It's time he get a taste of your expertise in mixology!"

At the mention of the nickname, Ichigo gave a small jolt. Ichigo smacked his unwrapped hand against his cheek, turned to face the wall he was sitting next to, and glowered at it. He could feel the heat from his cheek radiating to his palm, unable to look at the man who had the gall to not only listen in on and wreck his conversation, he also just ordered him a really uncool drink for a guy. If the wall had Urahara's face on it, he would be staring daggers into it. Except the daggers would be real, and Kisuke's face would be in shreds.

Ichigo didn't catch a glimpse of Orihime's reaction. All he heard was her squeaking "Aye aye sir, I'll get it to you right away" before scurrying off.

"It's all right, Ichigo. Men these days are free to enjoy dessert martinis without becoming a total laughingstock."

"That's not—that's not really the issue here."

"Oh, was it the Berry thing? Don't worry, I only walked in on enough to see you gaping at her and picking your jaws off the floor. Don't feel self-conscious about it; men tend to do that around her."

Kisuke just won another award: this time for Unsolicited Mind Reading.

"We used to all call you that when you were younger. But I haven't seen you look like that at that name since your mother was still alive."

By the time Orihime returned with their drinks, Ichigo's discomfort had ebbed. She neatly placed each drink in front of their respective owners.

"Please enjoy!" she cheerily said before she pardoned herself to tend to other customers.

The two drinks were indeed foils of each other. While the dark-golden scotch sat in a short, curvaceous glass made specifically for optimal intake and enjoyment of such a refined beverage, with no other trimmings or detractions, Ichigo's martini glass was taller with a fine line of what looked to be cake crumbs and colorful sprinkles held in place with cake frosting at its rim. The drink itself looked to be tinged with the color of limoncello, with flecks of lemon zest floating on top. And was his drink glittering?

"If it makes you feel any better, Yoruichi loves it."

"No. No, it does not."

But Ichigo took a tentative sip anyway. He could taste the flavor of the cake vodka and sweetness coming through. The spike of citrus, however, was a burst of flavor that kept the drink from being overly sweet or monotone in flavor. It was surprisingly enjoyable and reflective of Soten Kisshun as a whole: pleasant, comforting, and honest.

"I thought you said this place attracted yakuza-types," Ichigo remembered suddenly. He had imagined that anyone who fit that "type" would stick out like a sore thumb. But here, or at least tonight, the kind of people lounging about seemed to be solidly middle-class to upper-middle-class denizens without a single thought of any shady business on their mind.

Except for maybe Mr. Dead-Eyes Piano Man over there. Maybe he wasn't an outright unscrupulous character, but he was, at the very least, somewhat dubious. Ichigo looked over in his direction and saw him staring right back, whether it was directed at Urahara or Ichigo himself, it wasn't clear. It was a little unnerving, but "unnerved" was never part of Ichigo's vocabulary.

"Just the sight of Sado keeps the lower-ranked, pesky big-mouthed ones away. Anyone in the higher ranks worth their salt knows better than to cause a scene in a place like this. Sado keeps a pretty good tab on the people who frequent here."

"You seem intimately familiar with this place."

"Yoruichi and I always visit when she's in town." He looked pointedly at Orihime. "She's a really sweet girl. Been through more than you'd think. The saying goes, the most beautiful flowers bloom in the face of adversity."

Urahara took a deep whiff from his cup before imbibing.

Mr. Dead-Eyes "Puts-Snow-White-to-Shame" Piano Man was still staring in Ichigo's direction.

"H-hey, did you offend the piano guy over there with your request or something? I can't tell whether or not that's just his normal face or if he's about ready to throw the piano across the room. I mean honestly, the guy has had one expression since I've gotten here."

Lowering his glass, Urahara sighed deeply through his nostrils. His eyes had a distant look to them. Did he seem...kind of troubled? This wasn't something Ichigo was used to.

"I tried to request his loyalty. He was not very receptive to my proposition. It's hard to tell what a man wants when he himself doesn't know where his heart lies."

Ichigo's brow furrowed. "Er...what? Okay?"

It was less of an inquiry than an I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.

Urahara had a tendency to speak cryptically when a subject was not meant to be broached. And as dense as Ichigo could be, he knew better than to keep prodding.

The two men sat together sipping their drinks in an awkward and tense, but familiar silence. Sometimes, the only way Ichigo knew how to offer sympathy or support for someone was to silently keep them company. And sometimes, words just got in the way anyway.

Ichigo had almost polished off his martini before Orihime returned.

"I'm so sorry! I hope I didn't cause you two to feel neglected. It's quite busy tonight for a weeknight. But I guess I shouldn't complain."

Ichigo simply waved off her apology. "It's not a problem at all. You don't need to worry about us."

"Was the martini all right, Kurosaki-kun? I know it's not a very traditionally manly drink…" She twiddled her thumbs behind her back, worried her bottom lip and rocked her weight on the front of her feet. And god, the way she way she was looking at him expectantly through her lashes. What kind of monster would kick a puppy eager to please?

Kisuke gave a light snicker next to him. He didn't even need to say it, but Ichigo could still hear his annoying sing-song voice: The ball's in your court, Ichigo!

He gulped and licked his dry lips. Should he oust his previous apprehension and disappoint her? Or tell a little white lie and spare her feelings?

"You know what, it's okay. I am more than secure enough about my manhood to know a good drink when I see it. And I think yours is excellent, and everyone should be happy to drink it, man or woman."

Orihime's smile was so big, it crinkled the edges of her eyes.

"Oh, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Usually men take a little more coaxing to give it a chance, but when they do try it, they seem to really like it. Kurosaki-kun, you're my hero; I'm so happy you gave me a chance. If you'd like, I can have something different for you every time you visit, in honor of your adventurous spirit."

Ichigo felt his heart jump into his throat. "I-is that so? Well-well I really wouldn't want to put you through the trouble, Inoue. Believe me, I am nobody's hero…"

"Anybody can be a hero to somebody!"

His eyes found her face, searching for any shred of irony or sarcasm. But when he caught her bright eyes and rosy cheeks, any doubts were dispelled; yes, this woman, this boundlessly optimistic woman who was mercilessly bullied in her childhood, still believed in the goodness of people. The irony was almost maddening- the crux of his whole livelihood was that there were bad people in the world, and they must be swiftly dealt with and removed from society. And it wasn't as if she was naive about it either; people were capable of doing bad things, yes. But it didn't mean bad choices negated how significant the individual could be to another.

That she truly believed in that made every fiber of Ichigo's being ache to protect her. Despite himself, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile, the first in what seemed like forever.

A jarring, tiny voice in him susurrated softly, Barring the fact that, you know. You still kinda-sorta lied to her.

And Ichigo silently said, Shut up, Tiny Voice, as he banished it into the recesses of his mind.

"Well, you have been the hero of my night, Inoue-san. You know exactly how to mend a man's ailing heart." Urahara gave a crooked smile.

"Alcohol?"

"Your smile. My business is only a small recompense for what you do for me. For us."

Urahara placed some bills on the tray in front of Orihime. He winked at Ichigo and mouthed, "Next time, you can pay me back double."

Ichigo frowned but knew better than to argue.

"Oh no...Urahara-san, I can't…" Orihime looked at Urahara pleadingly. She tried pushing the money back but Urahara held her hand in place.

"Please, Orihime. I insist." He got out of the seat he was in. "Unfortunately, parting is such sweet sorrow. Have to open bright and early tomorrow. Ichigo-coming, or lingering for another drink or two?"

Ichigo didn't know what possessed him to give the response he did. He didn't really have any business to stay, but he felt something pulling at his stomach that rooted him there. Hell, it was his night off, what was there to return home to? Maybe it was the (one) drink, or maybe he was just tipsy with something else, he didn't know. He opened his mouth to answer:

"Yeah, I think I'll stay. Get a feel of this place some more. I'll be fine getting home."

"As you wish. Just...make it home before Isshin wakes up. Or else he might get some ideas. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Ichigo scoffed. "Dad would probably think I spent the night at some girl's house and be overjoyed."

Urahara chuckled as he made his exit, but not before one last jab: "He'd be overjoyed even if it was a guy!"

Goddamn that Urahara Kisuke. Always had to have the last laugh.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Kurosaki-kun! You're welcome to stay for a long as you'd like. I even have some pillows in the back if you don't think you can make it home."

"Oh," Ichigo gave an awkward laugh. "I was just kidding about the spending the night thing…"

"If you need anything, just let me know, and I'll come running!"

An hour and a glass of whiskey came and went for Ichigo. By this time, it was around one in the morning, and much of the clientele at The Soten Kisshun had dispersed, save for two men at the bar and a few others finishing up a game of pool. Sado had come in from his post at the door to help sweep and tidy up abandoned drinking glasses. Overall, it made for a much quieter place and much more available Orihime.

Once, she asked him about his bandaged hand.

"Are you all right? It looks pretty bad."

"This? Well...it's not as bad as it looks." Ichigo glanced sideways. The true embarrassing reason how he sustained an injured hand died in the back of his throat. Somehow, it just didn't sound very cool to admit that he hurt himself because he tried opening a cabinet that was really hot, and he just didn't know how hot it was until it was too late. "It's just some collateral damage. I'm a cop," he explained.

Her eyes widened, huge as saucers. "So-so did somebody try to attack you, is that what happened?! I bet it was somebody with chainsaws for hands, and they slashed through some trees, trying to surprise you, but then they didn't count on you detecting the revving of their chainsaws. And then you almost got your hand sawed off in the fight! Is that true?!"

He watched her animated speculations with his mouth agape, and when she finished, it took him a good few seconds to wrap his head around what she had just said. He wasn't sure whether or not to laugh.

"No? I'm just in traffic...and arson now, I guess. We're lowest on the totem pole, but we're usually the first to arrive on the scene."

"So you must have seen some gruesome things, then?"

"We saw two burnt bodies from a fire just yesterday. But nothing more exciting than that that I can think of."

"I saw that on the news! It's so sad. May they rest in peace."

"No relations, then? Inoue is a pretty common last name."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't know. Maybe. My brother took me away from my parents when I was too young to remember. He told me that they weren't very nice people. They were involved in illegal substances and he said they wouldn't have thought twice about selling me if it meant they could get more."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. My brother and I were really happy together. But I want to know more about your exciting life as a police officer! Did you always know?

"Always know what?"

"That you wanted to be one."

Ichigo twisted his mouth in thought. No one had ever asked him that before, and he never fathomed telling the reason why he chose to be in his profession to someone he had only known for a few hours.

"It started with my dad, really. When I was little, he started off the same way as I am right now, your run-of-the-mill traffic cop working the graveyard shift. I'd ask my mom why he could never tuck me in at night, or even play with me during the day since he was sleeping, she'd always say he was 'keeping the world safe for the people he loves most". And she was so proud of him. Mom loved Dad, and he adored the hell out of her as well. I thought if I could grow up to be the same, she'd be proud of me, too. That's the happy version I tell people, and they usually seem pretty satisfied with it."

"There's a not-happy version?"

"The not-happy version is that one rainy day, Mom went out to buy mentaiko for dinner that night. It was supposed to only be a short trip to the grocery store; one she could make on foot and back in less than an hour. But she didn't, because some fucking prick decided he had to speed and jump a curb and use her goddamn body as a landing pad. He hit her, and he never bothered to stop or call the police. She was there for an hour before anybody found out."

Ichigo grounded the heels of his hands into his eyeballs and steadied himself with a deep sigh. It had been years, but the hurt and the throbbing anguish resurfaced as if it had just been yesterday.

"So now, my old man is head of traffic. People at the department keep telling him to move onto something better, like vice or homicide. He keeps saying that he gets a kick out of stopping people and making them shit themselves before he just hands them a warning instead of an actual citation, but I know. He's hoping to one day catch the guy who killed Mom. I want to bring that guy to justice as well. But most of all, I want to make it so that no kid will be forced to sit and wait and anxiously stare at the clock for hours waiting for their mom to come home, and when someone finally knocks on the door, it's actually the cops telling them their mom isn't going to come home anymore. I would put away as may criminals I can if it meant nobody had to feel that level of agony.

"Sorry, Inoue. I kind of got carried away."

When Ichigo looked up, he saw Orihime's eyes were wet and misty with unshed tears, her lower lip trembled with emotion.

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun! I'm so sorry you had to go through something like that."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

"I know. I know, but you're so kind...you don't deserve any of that." She quickly swiped at her eyes and sniffled a little. "You know, I already knew, the moment I met you."

"Already knew what?"

"That you're a hero. You're everybody's hero."

"I'm just a traffic police officer," he mumbled, sheepishly running his hand through his hair.

Ichigo hoped the warmth on his face was nowhere near the level of warmth that Orihime was looking at him with right now.

Suddenly, a booming SLAM! reverberated throughout the bar, snapping Ichigo and Orihime out of their reverie and effectively silencing everyone as they swiveled their heads towards the source of the abrupt noise.

It was one of the men sitting on the adjacent side of the bar from Ichigo. He was on his feet, while the barstool he had previously been sitting on was sideways on the floor. His face was ruddy as he glared in Ichigo's direction. When he spoke, his words slurred together.

"Did you just say you were a police officer?"

"Yeah. You got a problem?"

"Two words for you, copper: fuck. You. Fuck you, and fuck all of your sorry-ass police department!"

A few gasps could be heard. Ichigo was about to rise out of his seat also, but Orihime threw out her hand.

"Excuse me, sir, I need to ask you to leave. I am sorry that you feel the way you do, but we have a zero-tolerance policy on belligerence towards staff and other customers."

"Screw you, girlie, who do you think you are? The owner or something?"

"Why, yes. I am indeed the owner."

The man swallowed anxiously but refused to back down. "Watch your mouth, woman. You think you're perfect with your big tits and long hair? You're gonna get what's coming to you. Just watch."

Ichigo had enough—the way the man was spouting pure vitriol to Inoue—he just couldn't stomach it anymore.

"Hey asshole, your problem is with me, isn't it? Do I really have to tell you that it's not wise to pick a fight with a policeman?"

"I don't care. I don't care about anything. I have nothing left. I would be locked up for the rest of my life if I could make even one of you feel the despair that you made my Yukiko feel with your fucking incompetence."

"Yukiko? The hell are you talking about?"

"Yukiko-chan!" The man sobbed. "Yukiko-chan, my daughter! My only daughter!" The man hammered his fists on the counter. He took a photo out of his wallet to reveal a pretty, pale high-schooler with midnight hair. "She...she told me that she had always suspected she had a stalker. A teacher at her high school...she told the administrators, the police, she even told me. But nobody believed her.

"Then one night, she was walking home. We live on the edges of Rukongai. She said she had a horrible feeling and tried to call the police but she could never get in touch with anybody. So she tried to soldier on and quickly make it home. But that bastard got to her first! H-he took her and raped her and even when I pleaded, begged her to report it, she told me nobody would believe her anyway. My Yukiko was never the same after that. And after that, she...I found her the other week, floating in a bathtub filled with water the color of her blood, her wrists slit. If you could have seen the look on her face...It was like she was just sleeping.

"If only...if the police had only answered her call that night. Where were you? Where were you when she needed you the most?!"

"Look, I—"

"It's too late for answers, bastard!"

It all happened in a blur: the man dove at Ichigo with surprising speed, his fist clenched in the air, ready to punch with all his strength and eager to inflict pain. Ichigo's body wound up like a spring, ready to jump into action, but before he could even get out of his seat, the unanticipated wall of a back was all he could see.

"Customers will not harm others in Soten Kisshun." The voice was deep and growling. "Take any fights far away from here."

Sado had the other man's mid-air fist in his hand before he yanked it out.

"F-fine. You hear that, copper? Why don't you come on out and face me like a man?"

Ichigo was about to open his mouth to answer when Inoue, who had come out from behind the bar counter, threw out a placating hand in front of him.

"Please, Kurosaki-kun. Let me handle this. It's my duty to make sure my customers feel safe. That all my customers feel safe."

She walked next to Sado, in front of the enraged man, and silently thanked him with a tranquil look.

The man was taken aback and deflated when Orihime bowed deeply to him.

"Please, sir. If you'll allow me to address you by name."

"Masayoshi. Masayoshi Honda."

"Masayoshi-san, then." She looked at him with soft eyes, without a hint of anger, animosity, or annoyance. Only sadness and sympathy. "I cannot even begin to imagine the amount of pain you are in and the pain that your daughter was going through. Nothing I say will bring her back to you, and I'm not capable of any magic words that can put your heart back together again. I can only speak from the bottom of my heart, and please. Please don't throw yourself away like this.

"It might ache to think about her. It might always ache to think about her. But the fact that you think about her keeps her memory alive. Somebody will always remember Masayoshi Yukiko. And when you're ready...when you're ready, you can harness your feelings to change the world! Change the world so that nobody will have to go through what Yukiko did alone! I never knew Yukiko, but can you imagine it? Can you imagine Yukiko-chan smiling down at her papa from heaven? Yukiko-chan resting more easily because her story prevented the loss of thousands of beautiful girls and boys like her?

"So please. Don't throw yourself away. If you need help, please seek it. If you need a safe place to be, you can be here. I will listen."

The room was filled with the sound of sniffles. Masayoshi had sunken to the floor, his body shaking with his cries. He whimpered as he sobbed, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Yukiko-chan! I'm so sorry you had a pathetic excuse for a father. Papa...Papa will do his best to keep living for you!"

Ichigo saw Orihime wipe away a few fallen tears on her own face before turning back to him.

"I apologize on behalf of Masayoshi-san. Grief is a difficult thing to process."

Ichigo nodded.

"Inoue also lost her brother a few years back," explained Sado. "Sora was the only family she ever knew. He was the former owner of The Soten Kisshun. He taught her everything about running this place."

"I owe my life to my friends like Sado-kun and Tatsuki-chan. She comes in to help when she's not traveling as a world-class champion in Tae Kwon Do," Orihime chimed in. "If it weren't for them...I don't know what would have happened."

Ichigo marveled once again at Orihime's humanity and tenacity to keep on smiling— glossing over her own pains, offering unbridled sympathy, and praising her friends.

Sado was now supporting sullen-looking Mr. Masayoshi with his arm draped over his shoulder.

"I think he's ready to go home now."

"I'll make sure he does," Ichigo grunted as he transferred the weight the man from Sado. "Wasn't planning on doing anything remotely related to my job today, but I guess plans change. Fair to say no charges will be pressed today?"

Orihime nodded. "You truly are a kind person, Kurosaki-kun. Please come back again soon."

Her voice almost sounded like it was pleading, and made Ichigo's heart twinge.

"You know what, here." With his free hand, Ichigo reached in his pocket and pulled out a slim, card-sized case. From it, he pulled out a white card.

"I'm usually the night patrol in Rukongai. But if you need me, any time of day, just call or send me a message. I'll come running."

Orihime regarded his business card like a precious jewel.

The way she beamed at him as she cradled it in her hand would be something Ichigo thought about for weeks before he fell asleep in the morning.

···················

"Ichi-nii. You didn't come home until late last night."

"Went and had a few drinks. What's it to you, Karin? What were you doing up at that hour anyway?"

"I'm not the one being questioned here. I saw you walking into your room. You were staring at your phone with a real dopey look on your face. Are you in love? Did you meet someone?"

"Ohh, Ichi-nii's in love! When will we get to meet them?"

"No no no Yuzu, I am not in love, and you can't let Dad he—"

"DID I HEAR THAT MY BOY ICHIGO IS IN LOVE? PRAISE MASAKI! Ichigo, I want you to know, we accept you as you are, and whomever you choose to love, we will love them all the same."

"Old man! I'm not gay."

"All I'm saying that is no matter your sexual preference, if you like it from the back—"

"Daddy! We're having dinner."

"—or if you like, what do they call it, 'docking'—"

"Well that settles it. I'm never bringing anyone home."

"—or if you like to teabag ea—BUGH!"

"Karin, I think you broke Daddy's nose for real this time…"

"Good. He just doesn't know when to stop sometimes."

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[SMS MSG] - June 20, 20XX, 03:56

Fr: 0xx-xxx-4133

Sub: Thank you for coming!

Hello Kurosaki-kun! I know you said to use this number in case of an emergency, but I wanted to personally let you know how much of a pleasure it was to serve you. Thank you so much for taking Masayoshi-san home. I hope it wasn't an inconvenience to you. I promise to make it up to you next time you come by! ヽ(・∀・)ノ

~Orihime

[SMS MSG] - June 20, 20XX, 04:02

Fr: Me

Sub: re: Thank you for coming!

It wasn't a problem at all. I really enjoyed my time there. You can contact me as you see fit, but uh, I feel like I'm obligated to tell you that 4AM messages usually hold a certain...connotation. I'm just sayin'.

-Ichigo

[SMS MSG] - June 20, 20XX, 04:03

Fr: 0xx-xxx-4133

Sub: re: Thank you for coming!

I'm not sure what you mean?

[SMS MSG]- June 20, 20XX, 04:05

Fr: Me

Sub: re: Thank you for coming!

You know...like a booty call?

[SMS MSG] - June 20, 20XX, 04:06

Fr: Inoue Orihime

Sub: re: Thank you for coming!

(つω`。)

[SMS MSG] - June 20, 20XX, 04:09

Fr: Me

Sub: re: Thank you for coming!

(; ω ; )ヾ(´∀`* )

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A/N: S-so much dialogue…I wanted to keep going for this chapter, but I had to cut it short. At least it's on a lighter note! Got kinda heavy there, it felt like. Also, FFN's story editor angers me so much.

I really wanted to release a second chapter before leaving for three weeks overseas. I hope it makes up for the lack of IchiHime last chapter. I might be overcompensating…

Despite being gone for a while, I hope you decide to stick around. If it's slow, I'm still trying to establish the characters and the universe they are in.

As always, thanks for reading!