A/N: My, my, it has been a long time, hasn't it? Finally, an update after... how many months? Like, 6? 7? Anywho, I have to warn you that I fear I am 'out of the loop' with fanfiction - I need to get back into the rhythm of writing again. And, this chapter, I'm sure you'll agree, is possibly the worst chapter to ever grace the world of FF. My deepest apologies... As for the next update, who knows? I recommened alerting this awful piece of fiction if you wish to continue reading it (though I know most of you have) - because it may even be years before I get time to update again. Anyway, enough crap, on with the chapter. And please R&R :)

Rukia followed Ichigo down the stairs and slowly approached the kitchen; where the other members of the Kurosaki family where seated around the dining table. It was all very unprofessional as they were caught whilst eating, (well, except Isshin who was taking an unusual interest in the newspaper). And her presence seemed like a nuisance as Yuzu's and Karin's hungry eyes cast upwards to meet her figure in the doorway. The table was littered with the usual, but surprisingly appetizing, breakfast that the female Death God had missed these passed weeks. An omelet (rolled, of course), pickles, rice, a helping of salad with dried seaweed and the ever tasty grilled fish. Empty plates and bowls for both Rukia and Ichigo sat idol, waiting to be used. The only thing that spoiled the otherwise flawless meal was the tedious, yet essential, miso soup.

But she couldn't complain. The raven-haired woman felt somewhat more of a burden than before (despite the fact that the meal was not solely prepared for her). She'd insisted on going straight to school; whether Ichigo was accompanying her or not. But once he'd mentioned his father awaiting her appearance at breakfast, she knew it was incredibly rude to decline. The man did treat her, after all. And even though she resided in the Kurosaki house without his knowledge, he'd allowed her to stay until her recovery.

Rukia bowed her head, and Isshin merely nodded and smiled.

The youngest members of the family quickly resumed their eating habits; rather greedily tucking into the pickles and rice bowl. The couple of Death Gods seated themselves at the table. As Rukia adjusted her skirt, which had risen up as she took her seat, her eyes caught Ichigo's. As if he were a small child about to be punished for doing something wrong; he merely flashed a small smile and turned towards the food.

Rukia cast her violet orbs slowly downward as if in disappointment; before surveying the breakfast in front of her. It all looked delicious, even the miso. But, after a few moments of dilly-dallying, Rukia decided on the gradually decreasing pickles. The female reaper had almost forgotten what real food tasted like; and she was inches away from food-related ecstasy.

"Rukia-chan," Isshin began, his gaze rising from the newspaper. "How're you feeling this morning?"

Rukia finished off her mouthful of pickle quicker than she would normally; choking as she hurriedly swallowed the remaining chunks. She'd been so hungry, she'd popped it into her mouth before placing it onto her plate.

"…Yes," she composed herself, "Much better, thank you, Kurosaki-sama." her polite voice was extremely up-to-par that Monday. Even Yuzu and Karin raised their eyebrows at her surprisingly sweet tone. 'San' was expected, 'sama' was in a completely different league. Isshin thought it was a little inappropriate, but mentioned it not. Rukia was ashamed to admit it, but she had missed that schoolgirl voice.

The orange-haired member of the family, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout the morning, looked over at his raven-headed companion. Though she didn't return his look, he just stared at her. Ichigo caught a glimpse of her violet eyes, and it was enough to send his heart in a trance. Having recently given in to the truth, he was alarmed at how quickly this feeling had grown. He could understand why Rukia had been so caught up all this time, if his late experience was anything to go by.

Rukia turned to him; as if angered by his stare. For a while, they just looked at each other, unaware that Isshin's eyes were on them entirely.

"So, Rukia-chan," Isshin interrupted boldly, protecting them from Rukia's growing 'frustration', "Do you have a place to stay?"

This seemed to be enough to shake them free from their stances. Both the Death Gods' gazes briefly met Isshin's until Ichigo's returned to his bowl and Rukia's cast down uncomfortably. What could she say, after all? The last thing she'd been thinking about these passed weeks was what lies she could tell Isshin. Though, now, she scolded herself mentally for being so absent-minded. He was bound to be suspicious. Here she was in his house, eating his food, taking up his space. It was only natural that she'd feel more at home with her family, right?

"Uh..."

"Her mom's still away on vacation..." the orange-headed reaper looked at her as if telling her to go with the flow. "Isn't that right?"

Rukia raised her brow slightly at him. What a lame excuse it was. Even if Ichigo had managed to rule out one member of her imaginary family, there were still plenty more to make excuses for. And if her so-called mother was away on vacation, there was still ways to contact her... unless Ichigo had made something up about her losing her cellphone or something silly like that.

Was this the best he could think of?

"Yes." she nodded hesitantly.

"Ah, I see..." Isshin pondered for a moment. "Are there any other relatives we can contact? What about your father?"

Ichigo cursed inside his head. Isshin had never asked him that question, and so he'd never thought of an alibi for the remaining of Rukia's imaginary family members. But then again, he should have thought about it either way. And, he should have discussed the whole thing with Rukia beforehand. At least that way the whole charade would have seemed less contrived.

"Well, my father is... in prison."

Ichigo almost had a heart attack. The same could be said for the rest of the Kurosaki household who were all bemused by her answer. She could have made up many things. She could have said that he was dead. He was in the army. He ran away the moment she was conceived as commitment terrified him. But no. She had settled with the riskiest, if not weirdest, answer possible.

"W-what for?" Yuzu inquired bravely, "What's he in prison for?"

Rukia took a few moments to consider the options; mounting the tension in the room as the Kurosaki family eagerly awaited the answer. There were numerous things she could say. There was fraud, assault, theft, alcohol abuse... Oh, how many crimes there was to choose from, she was almost spoiled for choice.

"...Murder."

Well, Isshin practically fell off his chair. No, make that; 'actually' fell off his chair. While Yuzu and Karin were shocked into child-shaped ice cubes. As for Ichigo, well, he was dumbfounded. His mouth hung open as if the hinges were loose. His grip on his chopsticks faded, and it was only the sensation of them slipping through his palm that caused him to get a hold of himself.

The idea was bad enough, but what made the situation all the more uneasy was the calm tone of her voice.

A little time passed, as you could imagine.

Rukia noted the frozen expressions on their faces and beamed: "Just kidding! I've never met my dad. I suppose he's in a whole different country..."

It was enough to melt Yuzu and Karin's imaginary ice, as well as enough to spark life in Isshin; whom began chuckling nervously. All three children were delighted to witness the color return to his cheeks. Rukia had a smile that stretched from ear to ear as she casually returned to eating; resulting in the household a little unsure of what to do.

Orihime opened her eyes to have one sheltered by the shade of her sunglasses, and the other to be completely exposed to the true light of day. She pouted; realizing the carnage her calamity had caused. The honey-haired girl shamefully removed her broken glasses in order to take a proper good look at them. This did nothing to comfort her, however, as they were well-and-truly beyond repair. All this closer inspection did was blind her as the shades reflected the heavy sun.

It was then that she noticed she was currently laying on a remarkably soft surface. Too squidgy for any type of pavement she'd ever encountered before. Why, it was almost like human flesh. The honey-headed healer thought for a moment; which was quite dangerous considering this was Orihime.

Perhaps this is the new, futuristic sidewalk of the millennium; transported all the way from Neptune. Maybe the government finally took notice of all the helpless elderly folk who take tumbles on the harsh concrete every day, and decided to take some action. So they must have conceived this almost bouncy substance in a top secret laboratory; where there was a scientist named Orihime Inoue! And she was adored by all the male scientists; but despite their efforts, they were unsuccessful in their attempts to woe her…

Orihime was beginning to lose the plot. She was so preoccupied with imagining herself in a white lab coat that she failed to note that her soft landing had, in fact, been a human being.

The Quincy, who had been unfortunate enough to be stuck under the surprisingly heavy girl, stared at her in disbelief. His back felt grazed, bruised even. The urge to nurse it was intense and it was as annoying as one of those itches you just can't scratch. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He couldn't believe how she hadn't noticed him. Further shame strangely turned to aggravation; as he broke the silence with:

"Inoue-san? Are you alright?"

Though the voice was soft and pretty familiar, Orihime still jolted at the sound. The Quincy had never seen her head move so quick to shake off her train of thought. She moved so fast he was unable to prepare himself for the clashing of their heads. Ishida squealed (rather masculinely) as he attempted to rub the side of his head, but failed due to Orihime's large frame being in the way.

He honestly thought she was going to roll off of him due to the shock. Her big ditzy eyes ballooned as she realized just who it was. Although, soon after, she scratched her head and gave him a weak smile in her embarrassment. Although, in truth, she needn't bother, for her cheeks were crimson enough to deliver the message of her shame. She had fallen on him, after all. And she was still on him, for that matter. She'd even squished him with her large…imagination.

"...Yes, um, I'm fine..." she tried to answer as casually as possibly. Strangely, nothing was mentioned of their head banging a few seconds prior, but perhaps Orihime just hadn't noticed. Ishida was not the kind to intentionally complicate a situation, so he remained quiet.

Orihime grimaced as she used her hands (either side of Ishida's body, one of them still holding onto her shades) to heave herself off the Quincy before resting back on her lower legs (strangely her legs had landed between his). She momentarily placed the broken glasses down beside her as she examined her grazed hands. Small shards of grit invaded her ripped skin. Surprisingly, her hands hadn't suffered the full force of the sidewalk despite being her main source of breakage. It was indeed her right knee that had lost the most flesh and was therefore bleeding.

"Ow…" Orihime whispered as she squinted at her small yet very painful wound.

Ishida pushed back his prominently cracked glasses before residing on his knees. The bespectacled boy had also harbored damages thanks to his friend's ability to stray from reality. As well as his glasses being cracked and his sore spine, his hands had gone through the same treatment as Orihime's where he'd attempted to soften his own fall. But, being the gentleman he was, he wasn't prepared to let a few bruised joints piss him off.

"What is it, Inoue-san?"

After giving her a quick one-over with his trained eyes, he noticed the small cut on her knee. It could only be two inches long, and it wasn't exactly bleeding profusely. However, it was big enough to attract deadly pathogens, and a nasty infection was not something he wished on his pal, Orihime. The Quincy's cold fingertips danced around her wound as if casting some strange spell on it. Orihime shuddered at the touch, and then grew embarrassed as to why.

"I could treat it, if you'd like."

"…N-no! Oh, I'm perfectly fine! It's just a small cut, I'll be okay. Really." she flapped her hands about as her cheeks glowed. She didn't like to cause a fuss, after all. "But what about you? Ah! Your glasses! Are you–?"

"It may get infected. I don't mind bandaging it for you."

For a while, Orihime just stared at him blankly. Wasn't he bothered that his glasses were broken? Then Orihime glanced down at her injured knee. It was mere scrape. Sure it stung like hell but it was nothing a simple band aid couldn't fix. Wasn't he overreacting?

"Ah, um…okay. But…shouldn't we collect our bags first?"

He nodded and smiled weakly.

After standing up, he let out a hand to the bemused and slightly disorientated healer who hesitated his touch. But soon, she was on her own two soles once more. Her leg injury stung as she flexed it; causing it to pump out more of the dark fluid. Thus, making her face scrunch up more due to discomfort.

"Thank you, Ishida-kun," she said as she stumbled, rising to her feet. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you were there! Oh! And your glasses!" Orihime babbled remarkably fast. Ishida just kept hold of her hand until she regained balance, and looked at her in the drone fashion he always did. She then continued to brush down her dirty clothes with her sore palms as she rambled on with her apologies.

The pair had collided almost directly head on, but Orihime had managed to twist her head at the last moment. Ishida quickly calculated this as there was no other explanation for her to bang her head on the floor if she had landed squarely onto him. But that was of little importance, he mused.

As soon as her feet made contact with the concrete outside; she could feel the heat of the Japanese summer. As the sun's rays coated her body, she found herself squinting in its powerful light. It was a heavy day, weather-wise and she already had an urge to remove her clothing.

Tugging at her collar while poking her tongue out as if in her final moments of strangulation; Rukia's gaze met Ichigo's. His palm had been caught in the middle of wiping his brow, causing Rukia to crack a smile at the immense temperature. It was a ridiculous heat, after all. There was no breeze to soften the blow, and as for shade – hah! It was few and far in between, to say the least.

After raking his fingers through his orange scalp (which almost acted as a mirror to the sun), he merely grinned back. Not a word was spoken, but they began their journey to Karakura High like best buds. They'd always had that unspoken bond. They didn't feel the need to tell each other how much they cared; as their actions often did all the talking. This was possibly how it was meant to stay. An…untold love. And for the first time, Rukia felt content about the idea. She'd been fixated on the idea of flooding him with her confessions, while he just pretended not to care.

I should know Ichigo better by now. He doesn't function on words and poetic phrasing. He's not all romantic and open. His actions speak louder than any sentence could… Perhaps, he's cared all this time, but was afraid of how I may act. I mean, he didn't even do anything and I went crazy at him… And anyway, he's kissed me. If there was any doubt about his feelings before, there should be no more now...

"That excuse for my 'mom' was terrible. You're a crap liar, you know that?" she smirked, her heart filling with song.

Shortly before they had left the house, Ichigo had told her the entire story of her invisible family. Little was known about her father, as he had left soon after she was born. But her mother, (who Rukia decided should be named 'Diana' and be half American), had informed her that he was a banker and was a full-blooded Japanese. Her mother was her only remaining relative and worked at a small florist in Hiroshima. However, her mother seemed always tight for money and therefore was unable to afford a cellphone. (How could she afford a vacation then? Alas, this was something Ichigo had never thought of).

Isshin must have known that this whole thing was in shambles and that there were several loose ends in the story that just didn't add up. But, whether he knew or not, he hadn't interrogated them any further. This was something Rukia was incredibly grateful for.

"W-what!?" Ichigo's mouth gaped open, as he was a little taken aback. "W-well what about your 'dad'? 'In prison', my ass."

"I was joking! Didn't you realize that?" she frowned.

"Not originally, you weren't! You're a worse liar than I am."

"Am not!" she raised her voice to battle with his loud tone on an equal level. "At least my 'dad' can afford a cellphone!"

Rukia stopped in her tracks, as the male Death God continued rambling on about now his excuse was her fault as she was the one to have gotten sick. Ichigo only continued for a few steps, however, before realizing the absence of Rukia's reply. He turned around to look at her. Had he upset her or something?

Suddenly, a cool breeze twisted around her black head, catching her hair in its playful manner. Ichigo soon noticed that the wind did little-to-nothing to soothe the heat of the summer. He had to shield his eyes from the sun in order to focus on her facial expression (which was pretty bad considering that they were less than a meter apart).

Cherry blossoms were retrieved from the surrounding trees and circled around their bodies in an enchanting display of pink petals. Strands of raven hair swept across her face as she closed her eyes. Lifting up her hands, her fingers caught the gentle brush of the blossoms as they swirled around her form. And, for the first time in what felt like years, she smiled. A genuine smile.

Ichigo removed the shade of his palm from his eyes as her figure suddenly became clearer. He just stared at her in amazement. It was hard to believe that moments ago they had been squabbling like kindergarten kids. Everything seemed so much quieter now. So tranquil. It felt like a completely different street, millions of miles away from his home town of Karakura. Trillions of miles away from his house. Everything was unfamiliar, and although slightly strange, it was pleasant.

He could feel it again. The heavy burden of butterflies in his stomach. How ridiculous, he thought. Surely him giving into his feelings was enough to at least dull this sensation. But no. It still hammered away at his heart until it felt bruised.

So beautiful...

Rukia was beginning to lose herself before she felt a large amount of pressure on her wrist. Her smile faded as she reopened her eyes. It happened at an opportune time, as the breeze was gradually disappearing.

"Come on, I'm not gonna be late 'coz of you dancin' around!"

Ichigo quickly turned away to hide his ruby cheeks as he tugged her forward. The female Death God's expression softened as a smile cracked her lips once more.

Ishida proved to be very efficient, very organized. What with his back-up Quincy attire, (a mantel at least) his portable sewing kit and now even a compact first aid box. Well, it was for neither massive nor extensive injuries – as was expected. It was a small wooden container, around thirteen centimeters length ways and roughly the same for the width. It had a volume of about two inches. Within this box were a few tiny bottles containing strange liquids and pills. (Orihime thought the bespectacled Quincy could easily pass for a drug dealer smuggling illegal and sinister goods into Karakura). Aside from the capsules and fluids, there were rolls of cloth and bandages, and packets of band aids. Even a pair of handy scissors could be seen. But, of course, these scissors had to be small in order to fit inside the box.

Ah…Chibi Hasami-san…

After he had finished nursing her leg; once the wound had been cleaned, treated and bandaged, Ishida adjusted his glasses and admired his work, before smiling as if pleased with the results. He glanced up at his big-busted companion and gave a look as to say 'it's done'. Orihime merely flashed a smile and blushed in response. He began packing his first aid stationary away while the honey-headed girl inspected the Quincy's handy work.

She leaned forward on the curb, her hair draping across her thighs and covering her face. It reminded her of that horror film with the girl who crawled out of a well to kill her victims… Orihime ran her feminine fingertips gently across the soft surface of the dressing. It looked very professional, despite Orihime's knowledge of bandages and such being very limited. Just looking at this masterpiece of the healing world made her feel a whole lot better. How comes Ishida was so gifted at pretty much everything? Cooking, sewing, playing doctor. Everything. Well, the things which she'd aspire to be good at, at least.

"…Thank you, Ishida-kun…"

Ishida looked at her in response to her voice as he got to his feet once more. However, he quickly turned away again. "That's okay."

Orihime adjusted her posture, her hands sliding off her knee and onto the concrete beneath her. She frowned at him packing up his things. There was this thick smoke looming over him like an evil lord of darkness (Orihime's visualization, of course). There had always been something about him. Even before the whole Soul Society scenario, she'd noticed it. A few times she'd glance over at him and she'd feel it. That melancholy atmosphere.

Her hands gripped tighter onto the curb. (They had found themselves on a street with only one entrance and exit, and Ishida had surmised that this was a prime spot to attend to Orihime's injury).

And when they truly got to know each other, during Soul Society, she could still feel it. Orihime was a person who tried to smile as much as possible, and encouraged others to do the same. However, that was where she guessed herself and Ishida were very different. He didn't smile much. Hardly ever, in fact. Sometimes, though she'd never mention it, it made her sad. And even, on rare occasions, angry. She wished there was something that she could do just to make him happy. A smile would be the perfect gift for poor Ishida-kun.

"Are you ready to go?" Ishida adjusted his glasses and Orihime nodded feebly.

She reached out for her bags, only to feel strangely empty holding onto one. She didn't usually carry two bags to school, so why did she feel so different now? Standing up, Orihime knit her brows in confusion, trying to think it through. Ishida meanwhile was struggling to hide his frustration at this procrastination.

"Ah! My-I mean, Kuchiki-san's cake!" she exclaimed, staring at the Quincy as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. But instead, much to her dismay, Ishida gave her an extremely long blink.

They had been traveling for at least a hundred yards, and he was still tugging her along. But now she was purposely dragging behind. His hand, whether it was willingly or subconsciously, had slipped down from her wrist and was now practically holding her hand normally. His fingers were half-heartedly woven within hers. Rukia smiled. He was so obvious that it was almost painful to watch. She couldn't believe that she'd ever doubted this dope. The raven-haired Death God could feel his palm pulsating where his heartbeat was raised. His hand was also clammy, but she tried to ignore that detail. It was hard for her to suffocate her laughter as she imagined him burning up and growing all tense.

He was burning up, not to mention growing incredibly tense. He could almost feel his heart in his throat where it was beating so rapidly through his chest. The beating was so intense it rattled throughout his whole body, it even pumped in his brain.

What's wrong with me? Getting all choked-up over a bunch of flowers!? What am I!? A freakin' girl!? Sheesh! It must be this heat or something!

Rukia traced the sky with her shining violet eyes, her gaze falling over every cloud that tumbled by. Although extremely hot, it was undeniably a beautiful day. Slowly cascading down, her vision was met by the Karakura school building. She'd never noticed how close Ichigo's house had been to it before. The journey had passed considerably faster than when she last remembered. However, this may have been the immense happiness clogging up her thoughts that morning; rendering her unable to take notice of such trivial matters.

They were slowing down now. His grip on her hand gradually loosened and soon enough he was no longer touching her. It didn't bother her so much. He had to let go sometime, and he'd practically been holding her hand all this time – she had to be grateful for that. Anyway, entering school that day was going to be a challenge in itself. Could you imagine the fuss if they had entered, not just together, but holding hands!? There'd be a riot for sure.

If only Rukia had seen the disappointed expression on his face as he reluctantly let her go.

"Maybe we should go into school separately," Ichigo's strangely flat words interrupted her thinking. It was weird as he hadn't turned around to face her, so she was left to stare blankly at the back of his orange head.

It was an inevitable pity that they would have to separate. Entering the school alone would most likely mean spending the whole day separated, also. The whole event of their premature departure that day when Rukia had last seen her classmates was suspicious enough. They would have to lie low for quite some time in order for everyone to forget the incident. But then again, Ichigo must have had to explain to some degree in her absence. After all, she wasn't the only one involved – what with the orange-headed reaper being the main offender. All the same, Rukia was already dreading all the questions certain individuals would ask as soon as she walked through the door.

"So, um,"

Rukia's eyes rose as his tone grew warmer now; "Yes?"

"About that 'going out sometime'... There's like an annual fair that comes to the beach every June. It's strictly a summer thing, and Dad usually takes us down there. I was wondering whether you'd like to go... The final day of the fair is this Saturday... if you're interested."

In truth, Rukia had never heard of this 'fair'. However, she wasn't prepared to decline an opportunity to spend some quality time with Ichigo.

"There's rides and beach parties and candy floss galore."

The annual Karakura Carnival was a summer event in which Karakura beach would become a swarm of fun-loving, over-tanned Japanese adolescents in desperate searches for a good time. It was done in the western-style funfairs; what with the numerous rides such as small rollercoasters, merrymixers and such. That was most likely the reason all the young adults of Karakura went crazy for the carnival in the first place.

She paused for a moment of thought.

"Candy floss? What's candy floss?"

Orihime tried to suppress her tears; but it was no use. Her lips quivered and she blinked around three times her usual rhythm. The masterpiece she'd worked so hard on, the cake that had absorbed her blood, sweat and tears, was now squished beyond recognition. The healer didn't know what hurt the most; the fact that she had spent so much time preparing the cake, or the fact that it had been made especially for Rukia. The stinging, translucent liquid gathered behind her trembling eyes and she cupped her face in her hands in despair. With this movement, the strap of her schoolbag slid down her arm.

Ishida remained quiet. He was no good with words. And as for affection, he felt inadequate. Perhaps it was a trait he'd acquired from his father. For, Ishida never once recalled Ryuuken touch his mother, let alone do so in what was presumed as a loving or tender manner. But then again, he remembered very little concerning his mother anyway. Maybe Ishida was never blessed with that ability. His father had always detached himself from his family, and friends had never come easily to Ishida. The only means of affection and general interaction had been between his grandfather and himself. Perhaps that was the cause for this… inept. This incapability of showing his feelings that everyone else seemed to pull off so well.

He'd noticed that Orihime was very affectionate with him. More so than she was with her other friends; even her best friend, Tatsuki. Maybe it was because they were both female and he was, indeed, a guy. But then again, Ishida liked to think that Orihime was kind and affectionate to everyone. He'd witnessed her hug Rukia several times (though the Death God never really knew how to react), not to mention Chizuru and the other girls in their class. She'd occasionally grip Tatsuki's hand and drag her to a sight that was particularly entertaining to Orihime. Ishida had even seen Keigo and Orihime exchange a hug once, although it was obviously due to former's persistence.

Maybe Orihime was so affectionate with him because she was trying to coax some retaliation from him. Perhaps she'd noticed that he wasn't very gifted with expressing his feelings and so she was trying to help him. Or maybe the healer just felt comfortable enough around him to touch him so much. For, he did sometimes feel like another 'girlfriend'.

They had been walking like this for some time now, ever since she had made the startling discovery. And they were now dangerously close to the school grounds.

Ishida couldn't help but feel bad for her. It was a ridiculous matter either way. Not usually something a person would get majorly concerned over. It was, after all, a squashed 'Welcome Back' cake. It was just an irritating event which takes place, but something people normally just expect and get on with.

However, Ishida understood that Orihime had worked extremely hard on this project. And she had a very kind heart for her to waste all her spare time making something entirely for someone else. Well, maybe not all her spare time; but enough to make something very beautiful. Spending all this time with her, and realizing how loyal she was despite his annoying behavior, he'd discovered that she was most likely the most compassionate individual he'd ever come across. And even though he was not very skilled at socializing, the Quincy decided that he was willing to try. At least for Orihime's sake, to who he owed a lot to.

I don't…really know what to do. With her eyes just staring at me as she holds back her tears – waiting for me to say or do something kind and helpful…I don't know whether I can.

"Inoue-san, I-I'm sorry about your cake," he began nervously, adjusting his glasses in an attempt to mask his blush.

Orihime was now openly sobbing and outwardly making a mess of her beautiful face with puffy eyes and a flood of tears. She had no idea where she was going as her vision was still obscured by her hands. The honey-haired girl was interrupted, however, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Orihime looked-up; her breathing shaky and premature due to her crying.

Weird. Thinking about it now, I don't ever remember blushing in front of Kuchiki-san…

By the time they'd reached the hallways of Karakura High, Orihime had come to terms with her terrible loss. The tears had stopped, and she was smiling again. Ishida was still left a little on the sidelines as he was pretty unsuccessful in contributing to the lightning of her mood. He didn't understand how she could just have the ability to cheer herself up at will. Ishida knew that it took a lot to upset Orihime, and when she was down, she didn't stay there for long. She was able to channel her hurt into something positive, and she managed to focus on the good things in life, instead of the negative.

Ishida wasn't usually one to jealousy, but this gift Orihime possessed made him feel a twinge of envy. Why was it that he was unable to turn things around like that? Whenever something bad happened, he couldn't help but dwell and go over it again and again in his head until he had a migraine. The black-haired boy couldn't help but wonder if he was more like her, in that he was more optimistic, Rukia might take a greater interest in him.

As the two of them walked down the corridor side by side, the Quincy noted some other differences between them both. Almost every classroom contained at least one person who was acquainted with his honey-haired companion. Whereas Ishida only knew students within his own class, and most of those weren't even friends, he just knew their names and faces.

Another thing was the way they held themselves as they walked. Orihime was very open; her arms out and swinging, her legs striding confidently. But Ishida's movements were anything but 'out there'. His arms were folded and closed tightly to his chest and the space his feet took up was less than intimidating.

He adjusted his glasses and looked up ahead.

How can some people have such confidence? Does it depend who their friends are? What extracurricular activities they take part in? Their parents? I just don't get it… I'd do anything to have half the assurance that others have. Why?... Why can't I have it? Don't I deserve it? I want to make myself better. I want to actually achieve something…

Ishida then thought about Ichigo. Compared to the Quincy, the orange-headed Soul Reaper was drowning in confidence. Well, this is how it appeared to Ishida. How could he possibly compete with someone who was stronger, warmer and more confident? What did Ishida have going for him? He was… smart. Top of the class, in fact. But… what else? Was that all? Ishida knew there were more good qualities that Ichigo possessed, but what about him? What were his 'appealing' attributes? What could any girl possibly see in him when they had guys like Ichigo?

"Ishida-kun? Where are you going?"

Ishida stopped and turned around towards the voice. He noticed that Orihime was standing slightly bewildered about a meter away at the door of the classroom. He then realized he'd been so busy going over matters in his mind, that he'd continued walking despite having passed the classroom. The bespectacled boy pushed back his glasses and calmly approached her without a word. Orihime was thinking of inquiring further but decided against it. Something was on his mind, and sometimes it was best to leave him to brood.

"Tatsuki-chan!" Orihime lifted her arms up and ran towards her dojo-attending friend.

"I-Inoue?" Tatsuki turned around and was caught in a rather uncomfortable embrace before she could even squeeze a 'good morning' from her lungs. They hadn't seen each other in what had felt like a lifetime due to Tatsuki's 'groundation', if you will. That and spending such a large amount of time with the ever melancholy Uryuu Ishida was enough to make anyone long for different company.

Orihime finally released her friend to inquire about what her and the other girls in the class (well, majority) were doing.

"We're making posters and flyers for the cake sale on Thursday," Tatsuki smiled, "The kids from the middle school are raising money for charity, so they're making cakes and taking trips around Karakura to sell them."

"Sounds like a good idea," Orihime trailed off as she was bitterly reminded of her own cake. But, she was determined not to show her disappointment. "Can I help?"

"Duh! Of course! You are a member of the Handy Crafts Club, right? You're like our leading man, or, leading designer. We need you to really jazz it up, ya know?"

"Yaay!" the big-busted airhead squealed with glee as she clapped her hands joyfully together.

And so, the girls got to work. The back desks were coated with a creative individual's dream. Multicolored sheets of card and paper of every size, pencils and pens, glue and scissors, ribbons and all the imaginable textures of the world. Most of the girls had already started their own posters, but some people such as Mahana Natsui and Ryou Kunieda had chosen to work together, and this was undoubtedly what Orihime and Tatsuki were planning to do.

"Wuah! Hime-chan—"

Tatsuki rolled her eyes as she heard the lesbian's annoying voice. She continued to stick down her blue piece of pipe cleaner in an attempt to ignore such an interruption. Meanwhile Orihime turned to see what Chizuru was wanting.

Ishida was already seated at his table, book in hand. He hadn't even read the blasted thing in about a month. He just sat there, staring at the words, pretending to be engrossed in some murder mystery or the importance of physics. Just so no one would bother him. He'd unfortunately lost interest in most of the humans around him. Other than Orihime and Rukia (and perhaps a little Ichigo), no one else bared thinking about. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, and he appeared unapproachable when he was 'reading' so it was the best time to be alone.

"Can I join in? I'd love to help the cake sale,"

"No! You weren't interested until Inoue came in!"

But today he wasn't staring into his book. He was staring at Rukia's desk. He suddenly remembered the letter. Ishida gripped his pants pocket where he'd been keeping it, and pulled out the untouched envelope. Seeing as he'd been prevented from posting the letter this morning due to… unfortunate circumstances, he wondered whether he should place it in her desk. That way, no one would take it or meddle with it in any way. Anyway, that was the place everyone put their get well cards. The only person who'd checked in there other than her was… Ichigo.

Oh crap! What if Kurosaki checks for anymore cards and sees it? He'll know it's from me. He'll probably rip it up or read it and have a good old laugh. I can't let that happen!

Ichigo entered the classroom to find the majority of his classmates had already arrived. Tatsuki's group of female friends were completing the posters for the cake sale that was going to be set up later that day, while Chad, Keigo and Mizuiro were chatting and trading some sort of cards. After the usual 'hellos' and 'good mornings', Ichigo dropped his bookbag onto the desk and glanced over to see Ishida seated at his own table. The blacked-haired Quincy was reading a book, as usual.

Ishida attempted to act as if he hadn't noticed the reaper's presence in the room, although he'd felt his spiritual energy long before he'd even entered the Karakura grounds. There was another rieatsu, an energy he was familiar with. It was strong, and therefore it couldn't have been far away. The Quincy was struggling to pay attention to the words printed on the page. What if it was Rukia? His beloved Kuchiki-san? He could feel it. Her individual presence, her own entity. The chances of it being anyone else were slim. Everyone who possessed rieatsu had their own unique energy, and it was easy for people who possessed it to identity others. And Ishida had studied Rukia's rieatsu for quite some time, and he knew immediately it was her, although he couldn't quite comprehend it.

He adjusted his glasses and gripped his chest. The organ encased within his ribcage was beating ten thousand beats a second. Ishida didn't suffer from panic attacks, well not to his recollection anyway, but it sure felt like he was having one now. He hadn't prepared for this. He hadn't expected her back today. He wasn't ready. But despite all the feelings and thoughts running inside him, he had to compose himself. Ishida seemingly calmly wiped his moist brow and placed his book face down onto the desk.

The black-haired boy removed his glasses (which was incredibly rare for him) and buried his face in his hands. His chest felt tight and the worry just continued to mount. This was all moving too fast for Ishida. He'd never thought he'd react like this. Why was he so uptight? He didn't have to talk to her, not if he wasn't ready. He could just give her his letter and flee until she was willing to talk to him.

It was the fear of her rejection, the threat of her absent friendship. Of course Ishida wanted there to more, he wanted to take Ichigo's place and be closest to her. He hated leaving her, even for a split second, and he would never leave her side if it was up to him. But Ishida could only hope and wish that his good intentions and his gentle manner was enough to end up with having a chance with her. But, Ishida would rather have a friendship with her if nothing else. Over time, he'd convinced himself that she was the most important person to him, and to be without her would be like the end of the world. What would he do if she never wanted to speak to him ever again?

"Hey, Ishida," a voice broke his thoughts and he removed his hands. "You okay?"

Ishida quickly reached for his glasses (these were not cracked, as he luckily came equipped with a backup pair), and as he placed them back securely on his nose; he realized that it was the orange-haired Death God. Ishida suddenly grew uncomfortable as Ichigo had what was perceived as a concerned expression on his face. The Quincy tried to compose himself as he folded his arms in defense.

"Uh. Yeah,"

For some reason, it was hard to remain eye contact, and so Ishida tried his best to look down. A pause ensued, as both Quincy and Soul Reaper avoided each other's vision.

This is so damn hard! When I thought about being friendly 'n crap, I thought it would be easy. I at least thought that he'd want to talk to me. Or, rather, be interested in founding a friendship again… How do I mend this? How do I gain his trust again? There has to be a way. I have to be persistent.

"Ya know…" Ichigo began awkwardly, "Rukia's back today."

Ishida smiled weakly and nodded.

And another silence was set off.

This is so awkward. Why is he talking to me? Why is he even wasting his time? I don't understand. I thought he hated me. Well, that's how he made me feel, anyway. Always shouting at me and getting all defensive whenever I speak to Kuchiki-san. I'm sure he blames me for Kuchiki-san's absence. I made her sick and he hates me for it. He hates me… Why… why is he even trying to be nice?

Ichigo then surprisingly returned to his seat, allowing Ishida to dwell on some more of the many thoughts swirling around in his head.

I need to give Kuchiki-san the letter, no matter what. I can't just slide it into her desk, not while Kurosaki's here. I guess I could ask someone to pass it on, but who? I don't trust the males in this class, and the girls are more reliable. But… the only girl in here I really trust is Inoue-san. However, I know what she's like. She'll ask me loads of questions and I'll feel obliged to answer and it'll be very…uneasy… But who else is there?

"What's that?"

Ishida's eyes darted up, a little startled. He soon noticed that he had the envelope in the grip of his fingers, and it was, indeed, what Ichigo was referring to.

"Umm, uhh,"

"'Kuchiki-san'? For Rukia?" Ichigo's curiosity made Ishida's pulse go through the roof again.

Before Ishida could even begin to think of an alibi, a large amount of chatter erupted, followed by a few girlish squeals (most of which were coming from Keigo). Both the boys glanced towards the door to see Rukia being awkwardly squeezed by an over-excited Orihime. A huge group clustered around the female Death God, and no doubt there was a million questions being asked regarding her absence and departure.

"Look, Kurosaki," Ishida said, growing desperate, "Could you give this to Kuchiki-san? It's for her eyes only,"

Rukia shifted in her seat before placing her schoolbag onto the floor beside her feet. She slouched, rapping her fingers on the slab of hardboard in front of her before opening her desk to retrieve her books. As the sunlight shone on the contents within her table, she paused. There was the usual belongings, stacked up inside and pushing the limits of the height restriction – disabling the desk lid to close properly. Text books, candy wrappers and manga volumes. The things that she was used to seeing. But there was another object. A strange, brown-colored envelope with 'Kuchiki-san' written on the front.

Ishida adjusted his specs and tried his best not to appear suspicious. Although, it was painfully obvious. After all, who else could it be? The only other person who called her 'Kuchiki-san' was Orihime, and she hardly seemed the letter type. Ishida's eyes had hardly left her figure all morning. Was giving her the note really a good idea? He felt like he was trembling. He probably was. Maybe he was just imagining it, but his heart was beating a mile a second.

Ichigo merely rolled his eyes at the whole scenario before spinning the lock on his locker. He was beginning to regret planting the letter in her desk; for it seemed to just open up a new possibility of awkwardness and suppressed emotions. He should have just told him to talk to her, instead of going along with this feeble excuse of an apology/confession. What he was sorry for was still a mystery to Ichigo.

The raven-haired Death God flipped the envelope around and hooked her thumbnail under the corner of the seal. She began tearing the glue cautiously after surveying the classroom for any hints as to who had left the letter. The Quincy, by that time, had successfully managed to mask his face with his book. Rukia had already locked onto the idea, however, when her gaze was cast over his figure, and she suddenly felt guilty.

All she had to do now was pull back the flap and investigate the contents. Rukia furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lip nervously. Well, in honesty, it wasn't nerves. It was more of a deep thought. As if she's reached the crossroads and was contemplating what to do next. It was so stupid, possibly an even trivial matter, but it made her uneasy.

Just then the bell sounded, signaling the start of lessons. Class members shifted reluctantly around the room as they got themselves ready for the extensive learning sessions that were about to ensue. Ichigo approached his fellow reaper, and she frantically stuffed the letter back into her desk.

"I already know about it," he began casually, scratching his scalp, "He told me to give it to you but you were caught up, so,"

Rukia relaxed, "So it was… him."

Thankfully neither of them continued their conversation until the Quincy had fled the area to accompany his locker for a few minutes. The orange-headed soul reaper pulled a chair towards where Rukia was seated, resting his elbows on the table. She turned to him. And then it happened.

A violent rush of heat. All over his entire body – pumping around in his blood; tending to his heart. His face flushed pink as his chest tightened. It wasn't like his heart was racing, more like the beats had become stronger – like they were resounding in his ears.

"Are you alright?"

He just stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. Ichigo's fingers clasped on to his shirt, presumably where his heart should have been. It became suffocating, he couldn't speak. It felt surprisingly good, then surprisingly bad. His eyes were lost in hers and the scenarios that be began to imagine were beginning to concern him. Ichigo suddenly felt warm, fuzzy. Like he was floating, like his feet failed to touch the ground.

"Ichigo?" Rukia waved her palm across his face.

This feels so… great. I can't believe this sensation has become so strong. I can't stop it… growing inside. It's so intense. I want – I actually crave her. This is killing me – holding off. I want to make her mine! God! I feel so amazing! I feel so alive!

"Ichigo!"

Think of all the things I've missed out on because of my stupidity. I could have shared these feelings with her and it could have felt ten times better than this. We could have drowned in this love. It feels so… so—

"Ichigo!" Rukia launched a three-hundred page textbook at his head. Knocking him out of his current state (not to mention knocking the reaper off his chair and almost unconscious).

He rose to his feet rather quickly, pointing furiously at her, "Bitch! What did ya do that for!?"

"You were ignoring me!" she yelled in response, "You shouldn't be so rude!"

"Well—!" he stopped in his tracks, failing to think of a reply, "Well—!"

"Ha! See? I'm right!"

"No you're not! How'd you work that out!?"

Orihime clapped her hands together with joy. Tatsuki raised her eyebrows in concern of her friend.

"Everything's back to normal!"

Mathematics was the first period of the day, and that meant a grueling hour of the ever grumpy Mr. Takako going into the laborious details of algebra. He'd started off as a substitute; just filling in for sick tutors at form times, until he had finally joined the school to work full time as a mathematician. It wasn't that he was outwardly aggressive or overly strict. Rather, he was timid. And despite his background filled with numerous teaching experiences, it took him a while to adjust at Karakura. Because of his shyness, he was somehow unable to enforce discipline and follow through with punishments. This caused him to grow disgruntled and somewhat antisocial. Thus, giving the impression of him being grumpy.

The students took their seats as Rukia was given instructions to hand her classmates their textbooks. She gradually made her way around the room; passing everyone their equipment while Mr. Takako began scribbling on the board. Meanwhile, Ichigo was given the delightful task of handing everyone their sheets of paper. There were three in total; plain A4, square A5, and a lined piece of card. Yes, unfortunately, there was a book crisis in Karakura, and therefore the pupils were stripped of their privileges and forced to use recycled sheets rather than brand new, personal books.

Rukia reached the Quincy's desk, where an awkward silence ensued. It was as if his head just morphed into a giant envelope, and she was desperate to open it. Why had he even written it? Sure, they hadn't seen each other in a whole two weeks, but that was nothing. Definitely not something worth writing a letter about. The raven-haired reaper was sure that there must have been a good, honest reason for this, but what? The more it circled in her head, the more she wanted to know. She just wanted to ask him right there, despite the fact that it would be in front of the whole class—

"Kuchiki-san…"

Rukia shook her head, before looking down. Ishida had hold of one end of the book, and she was firmly gripping the other. Her violet eyes darted up towards the bespectacled Quincy who was now shyly pushing back his spectacles. She glanced around her, and she was met with a sea of curious eyes. Retuning her vision to him, she took a deep breath before passing him the book.

"T-thank you, Kuchiki-san."

She merely flashed him an awkward smile and turned to continue her current activity, but was knocked off course by a sturdy chest. It was really no surprise that the chest belonged to the only other standing classmate in the room. Still, Rukia rubbed her forehead and looked up in confusion. Realizing who it was, Rukia allowed a smile to warp her face, and Ichigo couldn't help but smile in retaliation. This somehow awakened something deep inside Ishida; which burned his heart and soul.

She gladly handed Ichigo his copy of 'Algebra Antics', then returned to her seat. The orange-headed boy studied the strange look on the Quincy's face as he watched Rukia walk away, before placing the sheets of paper on his desk and sitting back down. Ishida was left with the strangest feeling he'd ever felt.

"Right, class," Mr. Takako began, finishing the equation he'd written on the blackboard, "Today we'll be focusing on this basic equation and how we can expand it,"

"Yipee…" Keigo rolled his eyes, removing the lid of his pen.

"I want you all to copy this down, first of all,"

All the Karakura students in the room started copying the series of numbers and letters down onto their lined pieces of paper. Then, after they were done scrawling the equation, they were instructed to copy out the method of expanding and successfully answering the sum; step by step.

Silence was cast over the classroom, and all that could be heard were the faint workings of pen against paper. Occasionally the sound of chalk could be heard as Mr. Takako added vital steps to the method. Of course, this type of simplistic math problem was elementary to Ishida, who had far surpassed many of his classmates in the field. When he was small, his father would encourage such an interest in mathematics, as long as it had detoured him from following any Quincy-like activities. Anyway, Ishida being a master of this art resulted in him having written down the method long before even Mr. Takako had. Him having recalled the solution from memory had left him with nothing to do but to 'spy' on Rukia… with little success.

This kind of hobby hadn't gone unnoticed by Ichigo, who was merely a few seats away from him. He'd gone over in his head about cutting Ishida some slack, but it proved surprisingly difficult. Watching him watching her was irritating, to say the least. Wasn't it a little creepy, after all? And what was this deal about a letter? Ichigo had seen him place it in her desk, and then he'd seen Rukia about to open it. But what was it? Well, it was a letter. But what about? Ishida had only missed out on two weeks, nothing more. And that was on his own accord. Ichigo had given him the choice to come and visit her, but he'd declined. It was his own fault.

Suddenly there was a knock at the open door, and in strolled Miss Ito; Karakura's infamous science teacher. In likeness to Takako-sensei, she'd previously worked in many schools and had loads of experience (although, it was a whole different type of 'experience'). However, Miss Ito had one thing that he did not. Sex appeal.

Not a single male eyebrow in the room failed to rise as she strutted in her incredibly high heels. Her long curled brown hair and glittering mahogany eyes (and not to mention her extremely long, tanned legs) were enough to attract the attention of any testosterone-filled man (or boy).

"Ah, what can I do you for, Ito-san?" Mr. Takako asked, twisting the top part of his body to face the beautiful woman before him.

Keigo began chewing his pen anxiously, "What I wouldn't give to have a piece of that!"

"I just came to inform the students that the Physics test has been moved to this Friday, so they need to get studying," she offered a smile to the class, and the class gladly accepted – everyone's faces beaming with frightening grins.

Science exam!? Ichigo never told me about an exam!

"Ito-sensei!" Keigo's arm shot up like it had involuntary movements. "Can we study with you!?"

Lunchtime

The girls were sitting in their usual spot on the field, beneath the oak trees; perfectly shaded from the sun's evil glare. Mahana had brought her brand new cell phone, that she'd purchased the night before, to show it off and generally make her friends envious. Ryou was intently reading aloud the features of the AkiSlim 350 from the manual that Mahana had brought along also. Michiru was sitting around her taller, more athletic classmate like a small child listening attentively to a bedtime story. She was incredibly quiet, except to add little comments here and there, such as; 'wow', 'that's amazing' and 'cool'.

Tatsuki was busy writing up her History essay which was due next period, while Chizuru watched her from a far while tucking into her lunch. The honey-haired healer however was humming a tune she'd presumably made up on the spot (as it had no rhythm nor prominent beat), while she set about creating two French plaits with Rukia's hair. The latter just kept her mind occupied with pulling up random blades of grass.

She wasn't one for fashionable hairstyles, but everyone else in the group insisted, and she wasn't one for confrontation over trivial affairs.

All of the seven girls had altered their hair in some way due to the excitement of the bake sale. Ryou had pulled back her hair and twisted it into a very smart-looking bun, which she fastened with one of her mother's kanzashi hairpins. Michiko had simply created a ponytail that was planted on the right side of her head. She decorated the remaining 'canvas' (if you will) with chidoriya pins in the shapes of different colored flowers. Michiko had allowed Mahana to borrow some of the hair assecories as there was little she could do with hair as short as Mahana's. Orihime's hair was just pulled into two pigtails, and the same went for Chizuru (as she nobally followed whatever Hime-chan did). And Tatsuki… well, Tatsuki, not being the most female-inclined, had borrowed gel from a male friend and spiked her hair past the normal altitude.

"All done!"

"Aaaah! Hime-chan! You're so good at hair styling!"

"Umm, well, I try my best." Orihime smiled, rubbing her head.

"Hey! I've got my camera,"

"Yeah, let's take a picture! Quick, everyone gather around."

Orihime pulled Rukia and Tatsuki behind the rest of the girls. After adjusting to the correct mode and setting up the timer, Ryou launched herself across the grass to align the lens with her group of friends readying themselves a few inches away. The camera began to flash as the 10 second timer began counting down. Ryou rapidly returned to her crossed-legged position between Mahana and Michiko. The girls all pulled their biggest smiles, and Orihime was required to quickly explain to Rukia what they were doing. Finally, the picture was taken and the flash went off; alarming the Death God. Was that meant to happen?

The girls returned to their places as Ryou passed the camera around before sorting through her bag for some item or other. Because it happened to be a digital camera, the girls could fortunately admire their looks.

"Ohhh! I look like such an idiot!" Michiko pouted. Tatsuki leaned over her small frame to witness the audacity. Michiko frowned and pointed as if the boyish individual was unable see her herself.

Tatsuki laughed; "Ha! Look at your mouth! It's like a cave!"

"Hey! It's not that bad!" Michiko exclaimed.

"Here, Natsui, look at her mouth!"

Mahana temporarily placed her lipgloss in her lap as she received Ryou's camera and a smile immediately spread across her face. Both the short-haired girls continued to poke fun at Michiko, much to her dismay – as she was now turning red.

This epic pictorial offering of the highly embarrassed girl gradually made its way around the circle of friends, with pretty much everyone (except Orihime) jeering at Michiko's unshaply mouth. Orihime had suppressed a grin as she felt slightly bad for her friend as she was the butt of everyone's jokes. Rukia, on the other hand, showed very little compassion as she was carrying on the amusement long after the others had worn themselves out from laughter. But it was all a light-hearted affair, and no one mean't anything by it.

Ichigo trudged across the grass towards the main school building, only to spot his raven-haired companion a few yards away underneath the cluster of oak trees, sitting with the usual group of girls that Ichigo was well-accquainted with. Her shiny thick hair was pulled beautifully back into two French braids and it really suited her. Rukia's wonderful smile was wider and bigger than ever, and it made Ichigo in return want to smile.

Oh crap!

He felt a tug in his chest again. The orange-haired Death God pulled at his shirt, arousing suspicion from the Quincy that was stationed just behind him. Ichigo could feel the butterflies gathering in his stomach and squeezing his lungs. Would this feeling ever pass? No wonder Rukia had been cranky all this time.

"Kurosaki, what's wrong?"

"N-nothin'. Just chest pains." He hesitated, picking up his pace. Ishida's eyes scanned the field to see just what had got Ichigo's attention, but he luckily failed to spot the female reaper amoungst the pride of girls surrounding her.

I have to get this under control. I can't just flip like this. Love or not, I have to keep low-key! Screw this! My heart can't rule my head, dammit!

"So, Rukia, got a boyfriend?" Mahana inquired rather excitedly.

Rukia was quite taken aback. She had never expected a question like that – especially since they were talking about Michiko's misshapen mouth merely moments beforehand. The female Death God was slightly fearful of the girls' stretched grins. It was as if they were all switched onto to 'animal' mode; where they are sidetracked by typical girlish topics and are eager for an answer. It was like they were zombies.

"Uh, no, not at the moment," she giggled nervously, scratching her head.

"Yeah right!" We can see the chemistry between you and Ichigo." Mahana's grin grew even more…grin-like. She was beginning to look like a serial killer. A REALLY creepy one, at that. And the other girls weren't helping as they nodded in a dramatic fashion (which happened to be in unison), almost as if they had practiced this kind of ritual.

Déjà vu… thought Rukia as she rolled her eyes.

"You two make a really good couple, what do you think, Ryou-san?" Michiko said, turning to her friend.

"It's written in the stars." Ryou responded flatly. Her voice was monotone and held no emotion at that point, as she greedily took a mouthful of Chizuru's rice.

Rukia wished the conversation would quickly change direction again. Her feelings were never made public amoungst such acquaintances. Well, the only person she could see herself possibly telling was Orihime, and even that appeared unlikely seeing as Orihime alledgedly had feelings for Ichigo, too.

Oh… I'd forgotten about that…

"What about Ishida-kun?"

A silence fell upon the group as she spoke the words, and suddenly everyone's eyes were fixed on Orihime's form.

"Um, I mean, that is, don't you think they have… something?"

"…Why on earth would you think that?"

"Yeah! They have no chemistry!" Michiko pouted, having suddenly grown passionate.

Why would she bring up Ishida's name? Of all the other guys in the class, let alone the entire school – why him? Does she know something? Did she write the letter for him or something? Did he tell her something?

Meanwhile

The Quincy adjusted his glasses; "Has… Kuchiki-san opened it yet?"

"Nope. Not that I know of."

I bet she'll wait until she gets home, when she's away from prying eyes. And I bet she'll show it to him. I bet that he'll laugh at it. He'll laugh at me. And if she doesn't tear it up, he will.

Ishida frowned in thought.

I'm so awful. I just don't trust him anymore, but I don't know why. He's so close with Kuchiki-san, they're always together. Whenever they get the chance. Ever since this thing began I've felt resentment towards Kurosaki. We used to be friends, but now it's…it's like we hate each other. Although… if that's the case, why is he allowing me to join him for lunch... I resent him; I envy him, although I would never let on. It would seem weak of me.

"Kurosaki," he began anxiously, "Promise me that you won't read it,"

"Huh?"

"The letter. I don't want you to read it. Promise me you won't,"

Ichigo sighed, "What's the big deal? It's a letter, get over it."

His face stiffened, "K-Kurosaki!" Ishida's body became stationary and his fists clenched.

Ichigo stopped and turned around a little surprised. It made him realize that Ishida was really into this stuff. He was like one of those over-the-top poets or some crazy surrealist artist. Like he was so fond of his work that it required some emotional attachment to it. The strawberry understood that he had addressed it to Rukia, so he'd obviously had put a fair amount of feeling into it – but, at the same time, wasn't this all a tad too dramatic? Wouldn't it have been far easier to just talk to her in person?

"I can't just get over it!"

"Well, you should." He stated calmly, walking away.

He's in way over his head.

"You think I can just push this aside and pretend none of it ever happened!? How can you be so ignorant!?"

Ichigo was stopped once again by Ishida's outburst, but this time he invaded the latter's personal space. The bespectacled one of the two pushed back his glasses, hiding the intimidation he felt that was displaying in his eyes. The orange-haired soul reaper was not one for confrontation, especially not unprovoked and unnecessary fights. But, the Quincy was beginning to question what Ichigo had in mind.

He'd never hit someone. He values people's rights too much. He's too much of a good guy. He wouldn't use violence. Not uncalled for violence, for that matter. But still, I don't like him being this close. It's uncomfortable.

"You're only punishing yourself. And you may think that I'm making your life difficult, but I'm only trying to help."

What is wrong with him? Kurosaki has never been so calm. That's not his personality at all. He usually flares up and goes crazy at me or anyone else who pisses him off. There's something going on here. Maybe Kuchiki-san told him to play nice or be civil. Well, I'm not going to be civil! He doesn't care! He's just a liar that wants Kuchiki-san to himself!

"You-you don't care about me! You don't care about Kuchiki-san!" Ishida's face was now contorted with rage and he was almost spitting the words from his mouth. "You just want her for yourself! But you don't even like her!"

Ichigo stood quiet for a few moments while Ishida vented. He knew that the Quincy could have rambeled on for hours if he allowed him to. Through all the shouting and profanities and stupid accusations, Ichigo could see he was in pain. And, judging by the way Ishida carried on, he'd been in pain for quite some time. Behind the frown of anger was tears, and behind the scowl was a broken smile.

"Haven't you noticed what's happening to you?" he said after Ishida had fell silent.

"…"

It was like he'd run out of gas, out of will and energy to even speak anymore.

"This whole thing is killing you, Ishida. You should move on before you make yourself ill." his voice was soft and his tone was comforting. He was beginning to sound like a mother hen.

"Ichigoooo!" Keigo appeared, swanning over to his orange-headed pal, "Hey, what's going on?"

Ichigo ignored the buffoon and looked at Ishida who was staring at the floor with a hateful look in his eyes. "Ishida?"

He glanced up.

"I promise."

The End Of School

The classroom was abandoned; the windows were shut, the desks had been cleared and the blackboard had been washed and cleaned. Everyone, well the majority of the class, although it felt as if the entire school had left for home, had fled the premises, leaving Rukia feeling surprisingly lonely. She found herself darting around like that of a rabbit in a field each time a small noise could be heard. She convinced herself this was silly, there was no gun pointed to her head ordering her to escape from Ichigo's side for more than ten minutes. However, she wasn't dependent to him, so she had to prove a point. (Keigo had somewhat insulted her womanhood by indicating that herself and the orange-headed reaper were inseparable). But she was having second thoughts.

After checking over her shoulder for what seemed like the fiftieth time, she opened the locker; shifting the books from one side to the other in an attempt to make room for even more textbooks and folders.

Yes, Karakura High wanted its students to have full responsibility of their books and equipment, and what better way to ensure this? Why, why not give the pupils both desks fitted with storage and lockers. This way teachers could easily scold students who had 'misplaced' their belongings rather foolishly.

The raven-haired Death God sighed as she finished up, gathering the books that Miss Ito had supplied her with to help her study. She had three books in total; 'Physics 101', 'Potent Particles' and 'Physics Now'. They were all at a foundation level, but it seemingly made no difference to Rukia. Whatever the learning level, she was undoubtedly going to fail. She hadn't studied at all – and the test was only four days away.

Rukia recalled a time when school work was of little importance. She was a Death God, after all. Her job was to reap souls; send them to their rightful place – whether it be Soul Society or Hell. She slaughtered Hollows and saved Pluses from the evil spirits around them. One thing she did not do, was get frustrated over a test for Science. She'd really been taking school studies seriously lately.

She pouted in thought. She'd changed quite a lot since returning to the human world.

Rukia opened up her bookbag and stuffed the books into the opening, only for something to slip out and fall graciously to the floor. She looked to her side, to catch sight of the menace that was the brown envelope. For a while, she just looked at it, lying there.

She rolled her eyes.

All day this thing has plagued my mind. I might as well see what's written on it, or rather, in it. Anyway, I owe it to Ishida. I haven't thought about him for the whole two weeks. Well, perhaps technically at first, like a day or two after I got sick. But, overall, I've just thought about myself. How awful. And earlier when he looked at me – I saw the pain in his eyes. But, why is he so hurt? It's not like we had a fight…

She picked it up and examined it for a while.

The female reaper pulled back the flap and pulled out the sheet of paper with her index finger and thumb; opening the paper. It was A4, lined and almost covered completely with characters. They were incredibly neat, even by Rukia's standards, and she had been a long admirer of Byakuya's elegant scriptures. The characters were so perfect she almost thought they had been typed, rather than hand-written. He'd obviously spent a lot of time drafting the letter before actually writing it.

Her violet orbs scanned slowly down the page.

'Kuchiki-san, I'm sorry for hurting you that day. I shouldn't have pulled you so hard, and I wish I tried to make you stay, well, I wish I had tried harder. Or, maybe I could have gone with you, maybe I could have taken you home and made you better…'

Her face cracked a strange expression as if she was listening intently to someone's troubles rather than merely reading them silently to herself. Even if he had spent a long time thinking of all the 'correct' things to say, letter writing obviously was not his forte. With one hand still holding onto the note, she leaned back on her tucked-in chair.

'I know that you insisted on going after Kurosaki, but I still could have prevented you. Then none of this would have happened… I bet you hate me, Kuchiki-san, and I don't blame you. What I did was unforgivable. I had no right to hurt you, and make you sick. But, I promise you that I didn't mean it. If I could go back and change what took place, I would. I'm sorry...'

Rukia frowned as she read his words. She was beginning to feel angry and disappointed in herself – because all the things that Ishida had mentioned had been her fault, not his. She was the one who had insisted on going and going alone. She was the one who caused him to pull her, only because she pulled him. Rukia was beginning to feel awful.

She sighed heavily, slung her bookbag over her shoulder, and walked towards the classroom door, still peering at the letter. It was marvelous how she managed to weave her way in and around tables and chairs without relying on her eyesight. Perhaps she had a good memory for the layout of rooms or something.

She exited the classroom.

"Kuchiki-san…"

Rukia flinched, jumping at the sound. She emitted a tiny scream as her body jolted with surprise. Looking up, she noted it was Ishida standing in the doorway with his hand supported on the frame. Her face soon changed from fright to concern as she felt the guilt pour into her. She examined his figure thoroughly. He looked so ill, so pale, and it didn't appear as if he had been eating properly – but maybe that was just the color of his skin casting illusions in the light of the room.

The Quincy cast his eyes down in a refusal to have eye-contact, while the Death God swallowed hard. And that's how they stood. Rukia would look away; only to have her gaze be set upon him again and again. She noticed small things such as his lips quiver with nerves and his grip on the door frame tighten where he grew tense.

He's so jaded. His eyes are lifeless, like all his energy has been taken from him. He looks like he's lost his soul, like his heart has been ripped from his chest. And all because of me. I can't believe I didn't even spare a thought or him. I'm a terrible person… and here he is thinking that this is all his fault, that I somehow blame him for everything that's happened, when I don't. It's my fault. I am the one who's done all this; I'm the one who's hurt him like this. I can't imagine the emotional hell he's been in. I'm so sorry, Ishida.

"Ishida, I—"

Before she knew what was happening, she was silenced by his shaky kiss. Rukia was obviously taken aback, but unfortunately not granted time to react (though once she thought about it, she was unsure how to react anyway); for he soon encased her in his arms, burying his head into her neck. Rukia's expression was now that of confusion.

"Kuchiki-san… Kuchiki-san, I…"

You're everything to me, without you there's no point in living. My life was fine before now; sure I was lonely and I felt so empty, but now I've found someone that I can love. I don't feel empty anymore, Kuchiki-san, but to keep the emptiness away I need to with beside you. I love you. I need you, Kuchiki-san. If you hated me… I wouldn't survive… No one understands. No one would if I told them how I feel. They'd say it's stupid and that this is a phase. But I know for sure what I feel is real, and that no one could feel this way about you – not the way I do…

In the end, he gave up the idea of speaking and just held her. Luckily for him, he didn't have to say a word.

I need to look out for him more. Ishida has problems with his emotions, I've noticed. He may not be very good at expressing them, showing them, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't experience them. I've been so cold to him. I pushed his feelings away because I thought they were childish and I foolishly didn't take them seriously. His intentions were always good, and he tried his best to show me what he was feeling. I can't believe I didn't register what he's been going through. God… I'm so terrible…

Rukia closed her eyes and brought her arms up, tracing them down his shoulders and settling on his back where she added pressure. It was kind of awkward embracing him for one of her hands were still occupied with the letter, but she tried her best – after all, hugging wasn't one of her specialties. She tucked her head in and squeezed gently.

"It's okay, Ishida," she smiled, "I understand."

Ichigo looked upon the two of them with a mixture of feelings. He had been at the opposite end of the corridor the whole time, and had a side view of the events which had unfolded. He couldn't speak. How possibly could he? Fortunately for both of them; Ichigo was out of sight, and they weren't witness to the anger in his eyes nor his fist tightened with rage.

The female Death God leaped down from the windowsill, sighing as she raked her hair with her fingertips. She removed her shoes before removing her schoolbag and emptying the contents onto Ichigo's bed. Kon arose with the clunking and soft banging noises that erupted from outside the closet (he's a light sleeper), sliding the door open and peering his head out. The physics revision guides came tumbling out along with other scattered belongings.

"Where's Ichigo?" Kon rubbed his eyes rather calmly, climbing up onto the bed.

"He's still not back?" she shrugged with little concern, sorting through the various paperbacks to retrieve one of the many study guides that Miss Ito believed to aid her in passing her Science exam. Rukia seated herself down on the sheets after clearing a space for her behind.

The inquisitive plushie approached her as she flipped open to the first page of 'Physics Now'. It was a remarkably colorful book; with cute illustrations of particles with beaming faces and large eyebrows.

"I like these…" she mused, pointing to one of the pictures, "…But I can draw better than that!"

She pulled out a lined notepad from her bag, and opened it. Kon watched her, almost mesmerized. After she had read a few paragraphs of the introduction, she flipped over the pages until she got to one entitled; 'Alkenes and Alkanes: The know-how'. Rukia was surprisingly interested in these formations of numbers and letters, the monomers and the polymers. The textbook asked her a few questions after offering her detailed information. The raven-haired woman jotted down the answers in the notepad effortlessly – as if she knew the answers off by heart.

Meanwhile, Kon made it his business to have a look about what other things she kept within her bag. He rummaged through the other books and scattered papers until he came across something quite peculiar. He turned over the brown envelope in his paws before lifting the flap and removing the paper from within. He unfolded the sheet.

"That's strictly confidential." Rukia removed it from his grasp, re-folded it and returned it to its rightful place inside the envelope.

She yawned.

"What's it all about?"

She stood up to stretch; "Ishida gave it to me."

"Does Ichigo know? I think he'd be pretty pissed, ya know? What is it? Like a love letter?"

Rukia frowned, slamming a bottle half-filled with juice at him (this was also from her bag). "Of course it's not a love letter! …And Ichigo doesn't know, the contents, anyway. I don't plan on telling him."

She carried the letter over to the closet, retrieving her diary and slipping it between two random pages before placing the book safely underneath the mattress once more. Rukia removed her blazer, throwing it into the opening before slumping down on the computer chair.

Kon surprisingly didn't grumble about just being assaulted by the reaper, and instead rubbed his forehead until the stinging eased.

"So… have you and Ichigo had an argument?"

"Of course not!" she scolded him with her voice.

Unbeknown to herself and her stuffed animal friend, Ichigo had just returned home from school, had already travelled up the stairs and was just about to knock on the bedroom door… But he heard the muffled voices from inside, and decided on waiting patiently to gather some useful information about their current situation.

"But I have to respect Ishida's feelings. It's none of Ichigo's business,"

Ichigo could already feel something wrong inside his stomach. It churned and he could sense his anger gradually coming back. Seeing them two together; holding each other like that. Since when had they been so close? He knew he shouldn't get so distressed, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy was immense, not to mention his aggravation towards Ishida.

I should get a grip of myself! This is ridiculous! I don't even know the situation, and here I am getting all caught up in it. I need to calm down, I'm sure there's a reasonably explanation for everything I've seen…

But…he'd seen them…kiss. A hug was bad enough, but the fact that they… It was too much for Ichigo. He was only just coming to terms with his own feelings, and now he had been made even more confused. He couldn't calm down, not this time. He had successfully bitten his tongue for Ishida's and Rukia's benefit, but now it had gotten out of hand. Ishida had used his good nature to stab him in the back, and Rukia had betrayed him also.

"What happened between me and Ishida has nothing to do with him."

I…can't believe this… Here I was thinking that me and Rukia could actually… and then she kisses someone else. I thought this was what she wanted, what she longed for all along, but… why then? Why-h-how could she? After all this hell she's given me about how bad she's felt because of me draggin' my ass, and when I started to feel something, she just…she cuts me down like this!

Ichigo gripped onto the door handle, taking a deep breath before he twisted it to open the door. Hearing the clicking of the door, Rukia launched herself across the room towards the closet, sliding the door firmly shut. For some reason, she hadn't been able to feel any spiritual energy that day, nor the day before. This made it incredibly difficult for her to know who was where – and so she had to be more alert than usual.

Ichigo entered; "It's only me."

Rukia slowly reopened the closet door while Ichigo removed his bag and placed it where she had been sitting. The raven-haired reaper jumped down from the ledge and walked towards the bed. Ichigo noticed all her belongings spread out on the covers, and went towards the drawers were Rukia's clothes were hidden under his. He pulled out a pair of girl's pajamas and threw them to her.

He would have looked at her, but he knew that if he did, then his heart would contradict the anger that ruled his head.

She silently caught them then laid them out on her lap, mimicking a ironing motion as she made the material all smooth and creaseless. Rukia soon grew uncomfortable as she realized that something was bothering him, but she was unsure of what. Kon watched as the two of them did the usual routine they always did, however with no sound. It was like they had been placed on mute.

"These are nice," Rukia said softly, in almost a whisper. "Where did you get them?"

"At the store," he replied flatly, pulling out a pair of his own pajamas and setting them down on the desk. He closed the door once more and then removed his lunchbox and empty juice carton from his bag.

His movements were short and stern, he practically slammed the door to the drawer and banged his lunchbox hard onto the surface of the desk – each time he did something like this, a small shudder would happen in Rukia's body. She wasn't afraid, just uneasy and on edge. She was expecting a full scale argument at any moment.

He's really mad. But why? He was fine this morning, and all of today, well, the last time I saw him he was okay. I know he had to see Miss Ito at the end of school but… maybe she told him off for something and that's why he's so peeved. Perhaps he didn't do her homework, or he's behind on something, or she gave him an unjust detention—

"Ichigo... what's wrong?"

"Yuzu'z makin' dinner," be began, ignoring her question, "What do you want?"

"O-oh, um," she thought quickly as not to anger him more so, "I'm not hungry, thanks."

With that, the orange-headed boy exited the room again without another word. Rukia's eyes gradually left the bedroom door and panned around, not really certain of where she should look. She didn't understand. What had she done to make him so mad? It was obviously something she'd done, otherwise he wouldn't have been so anti-social with her. She doubted that she had ever witnessed him so mad before.

Kon approached her, sensing her discomfort.

"What's up with him?"

"…I…I don't know…"