UnWanted Chapter 20: May The Drama Commence, a bleach fanfic

A/N: Okay, forget the immense OOCness (I tried my best with the characters; honestly) I wanted to get some 'emotional drama' into this fic instead of writing the same old, dull and predictable rubbish that's in every other chapter. As I've said a million times: I have no idea when the next update will be. Reality seems to take up so much time! So, without much ado, here's number 20 for you all! Please enjoy, and R&R :D

Another Edit: First of all, there was a problem with a ruler which I've sorted out. Also; I promise that the next chapter will be more IchiRuki themed.

That thick, suffocating rush of 'love' that's so quick to cloud our minds... To shield us from what we truly feel... We're so easy, as humans, to be mislead by our own heads...

His hand pressed the closet door firmly shut.

So, I can understand what Ishida's feeling right now... I understand his confusion; if that's what it is. I know his jealously and his insecurity – his pain and even his tiny ounce of pride. God knows I've experienced it. All of it. I've felt his obsession – his incredible need to surround her... I feel like I understand everything, and yet I understand nothing... I know that his feelings are strong, but what are his true motives? I can imagine him like this; all innocent and good-mannered, but is he really? His kind actions seem like they hold only his interest; his sweet conversation holding possessive slurs…

Ichigo scratched his head uncomfortably before traveling over to the readily-made bed. He threw himself backwards onto the sheets and closed his eyes. His arms and legs spread themselves evenly apart, and he began to lose himself in thought.

I have no clue what he's truly feeling... Until now, I've only followed what Rukia's told me. I've believed that he likes her, that he's after the same thing I am – but how the hell would I know? How do I know, how does Rukia know, that this isn't all just what he wants us to think? And if what he proclaims is, in fact, true, that he does love Rukia, then how far is he willing to take those feelings? I mean, yesterday, he just got so tied up and emotional – in a way, despite how much he angers me; I'm worried about him... He keeps pushing and pushing; himself and Rukia, and I just don't know how this is all going to play out... What do I really know here?

His left hand rose up and rested on his clothed chest, only to grip onto his shirt moments after.

I know this beating in my heart is real. I know that this irritating swelling in my skull, hammering away at my every thought is honest and true. The pain in my chest, the butterflies in my stomach – it's all for her. Every day is a challenge with these feelings; burrowing their way deeper and deeper inside me...

A few moments passed.

But...does she still like me? After seeing them together, I just... I just don't know...

He ran his fingertips gently across his parted lips, closing his eyes. If he imagined hard enough, he was able to indulge in what he had felt that day. Like before, he could recall it as if it were a treasured memory of his. Pulling it out from a dusty archive and playing it over and over again like a film. He could still feel her pleasing texture and warmth as if it happened yesterday. He imagined her enticing rouged lips calling him into another kiss.

If only he could feel it again, feel her again. For real. Because, no matter how many times he 'indulged' in his little fantasy, it wasn't enough to satisfy him. There was no guilt anymore – just longing. He knew what he felt, and he was done with holding back. He wanted to tell her, he wanted her to know. What was the use in hiding it, anyway? What did it matter what anyone else felt – his feelings were good, weren't they? So why couldn't he just shout them from the treetops?

...Ishida...

Ichigo turned over onto his side. He just wanted to sleep the entire day away.

About twenty minutes had passed before the sound of his bedroom door abruptly opening and closing erupted, giving the impression that whoever had entered was in a hurry. And they were.

Rukia looked over towards the bed where Ichigo was huddled up like a fetus. She sighed, leaning herself back against the bedroom door. One hand had good grip of the beige towel wrapped around her body; which had 'World's Best Dad' sewn onto it in English letters. Water droplets still clung to her legs and dripped from her soaked raven hair. The female reaper reeked of orange shower gel and coconut shampoo.

After a few minutes of pondering, she padded across the room towards the closet, where Kon happened to be sleeping. She pulled back the door and bent forward as she tried to find her school uniform. This proved extremely difficult as Ichigo had cleverly hidden her clothes underneath his own in an attempt to cover up her existence in the Kurosaki house.

Rukia frowned in frustration. It was impossible to hold up a pile of Ichigo's clothes while searching for her own with one hand. She tried to tie the towel in a tidy knot, but this proved rather hard as the material was far too thick for this. She grumbled to herself, thinking of another way around the issue.

Rukia then tried to tuck the towel into itself, as a means to keep it held up. And surprisingly, this seemed to work.

But then she stood still for while, thinking.

Despite this sudden solution, this wasn't enough to satisfy her.

Sure, this seemed secure and it neatly held the towel in place thus granting her some time to search for what she sought after. But, the whole 'tucking it into itself' business didn't sit comfortably with Rukia. Though the problem was solved; she came to the realization that it wouldn't be for long.

Hmm…this could slip free at any given time. Quite risky, if you ask me. Any sudden or dramatic change in movement could cause the towel to come undone – resulting in awful consequences...especially if Ichigo happens to look over...

She mentally snapped her fingers.

That's it! A way that will coax Ichigo into some interaction – he'll be forced to intervene! As long as I plan this just right; I'll free him from his current state and still remain some dignity. Yes! He'll have to be a complete ass not to have something to say about this!

She retook her place, sorting through Ichigo's annoying items of clothing with ease. The female Death God craftily teased the towel out of itself – not completely, but just enough to assure her that her plan would play out accordingly.

Any moment now…

Ichigo meanwhile lifted his dreary head towards the closet where Rukia was currently standing – wondering what to do next. He rubbed his sleepy eyes.

"…Rukia," he started, rising from his laying position.

…Bingo.

"It's in the basket,"

"Huh?"

The raven-headed woman straightened up, causing the towel around her to slip free – resulting in an unfortunate yet calculated outcome. Rukia originally attempted to grab at the towel and cover herself; acting perfectly, but this failed. She gasped, her hands laying over her less-than-ample feminine features. Her knees knocked as her cheeks flushed a violent red.

Just as planned.

It was needless to say that an awkward silence fell upon them as they were frozen in their current states. Rukia was unable to move for the simple fact that she was entirely naked – and blessed that she had only showed her orange-headed companion the back of her body. Ichigo was stunned into submission, and was therefore quite literally stuck to his location. She could picture his mouth hanging loose like a rusted old hinge; eyes opened wide and unblinking. And she wasn't far-off.

"U-um…" Rukia began awkwardly.

Sometimes she amazed herself with her grand acting skills, and obviously she'd only progressed as time had passed, as there was no way that even Ichigo could see through this flawless act.

Soon or later, he's going to have to do something. Any moment now; he's going to pick up that towel and wrap it around me – unaware that he's walked right into my trap! Mwahaha!

However, this took longer than the female Death God had first suspected.

She started to shiver. The warmth of the bath towel that had surrounded her was slowly evaporating and the chill of the room began to get to her. Rukia could feel all the tiny hairs of her body sticking up on end and the goose bumps forming.

God damnit, Ichigo!

But before she grew accustomed to the colder temperature; she felt the insulated support of the towel once more around her – with a pair of arms attached to it.

Ever predictable.

The female reaper turned her head, a little defensive. She still had to play her part well.

"It's okay, I'm not looking," Ichigo's face was perched temporarily on her shoulder as he wrapped her securely in the damp towel again. He was a timid fellow, if ever she'd seen one – his face bathed in embarrassed heat, and his eyes closed. Firmly. She pulled the material around her tightly from the inside, as she kept her eyes fixed on his figure.

She liked the feeling of his protective and chaste stance, but this experience was short lived as he calmly let her go without a sound or a glance of eye contact. She watched him with her eagle-like glare as he made his way back to his bed.

Rukia turned back to the closet.

It seems that wasn't enough to tempt him into some reaction... Time for plan B...

"…Pervert."

Ichigo suddenly tripped over his own feet and flew across the room in shock, landing very awkwardly by the window. He rapidly rose to his sock-covered toes and pointed at her angrily.

"W-what!?"

And thus, with a single word, it is done.

Rukia combed her hair elegantly with her fingers, smirking; "I didn't say anything,"

"Y-you bitch! You insult me then ya don't have the guts to do so to my face!" he approached her, stabbing at the air with his index finger.

"Ah-Shuddup!" she plastered her palm across his face, shoving him backwards.

He growled; "Damn you! I shoulda' jus' left you there to freeze yer ass off!"

"You shouldn't have done anything! You should have looked the other way like a gentleman…"

"EHHH!?!"

"Step away from me!" Rukia cast her hand over her forehead in a melodramatic pose, sliding away from him. "I feel abused! Violated!"

"AARRRGG!! I'm gonna kill you!"

"Is everything alright in there? Ichigo? Rukia-chan?" there came a knock on the door.

"Umm, yes, Kurosaki-kun was just helping me get dressed!" Rukia shouted proudly, forming a megaphone with one of her hands.

"...O-okay..."

"S-shut up! You're making it worse!" he gripped her wrist.

And the deed is done!

She smiled softly; "That's more like the Ichigo I know."

Ichigo suddenly looked at her solemnly.

He could feel the aggravation flee from his body, as his facial expression relaxed. Ichigo could feel his insides glow with…well, warmth. The fuzzy feeling was back with a vengeance, and the whirling in his stomach almost crippled him. But, he refused to show it.

...How can you do so much with that smile of yours?

"…I hate you," his grip left her as he returned to his bed.

"I hate you!"... Those words came back to haunt her.

Her smile quickly faded and her expression took on a more concerned form. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. For a while she stood bewildered, before padding over to where he sat. After a short pause, he shifted over, allowing her room to sit beside him. He noted that both her hands now held the towel securely around her.

The female Death God looked at him questioningly, but he refused to grace her with his vision, instead folding his arms and looking down; frustrated.

"You're making it so damn hard…for me to stay mad at you..."

"...What have I done?" she asked innocently, "Since yesterday you've been acting strange… I don't understand."

I saw him… doing something that I'd give anything to do...with you… You two looked so close and now I feel…now it's like I'm not who you're interested in anymore… I feel like Ishida's taken my place... But if I say anything even close to what I'm thinking right now; you'd tell me that it's stupid and just deny everything...

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled.

"Tell me..."

"I said 'forget it'," he shrugged, "Nevermind."

Rukia stood up; "Ichigo! You either tell me or I'll force it out of you!"

He smirked; "Pfft!"

A loud thumping could be heard from upstairs, followed by a series of screams and yells; as the rest of the Kurosaki family seated themselves at the dining table.

Karin rolled her eyes as she began eating her breakfast, while Yuzu sat rather fearfully at the other end of the table.

"Don't fear, Yuzu," Isshin started joyfully, "Love is a funny thing."

"You call that 'love'? I call it domestic violence," Karin sighed.

An intimidating bruise was plastered on the male reaper's cheek, something which was a new addition to his face thanks to his run-in with Rukia minutes prior. And it was also something to which Ichigo made a habit of rubbing almost continuously.

"I'm studying with Ishida after school, so, don't wait for me,"

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, looking at the opposite side of the sidewalk; "Whatever."

"I'll be returning at around six," she continued in an attempt to spark some interest.

Rukia noted that he was avoiding eye contact with her, and so she looked briefly looked away as if considering her options. Usually she had some idea as to why Ichigo was annoyed, but this time she had no clue. Sure, he wasn't the most open of individuals, but his body language did all the talking, and there were always clear signs of what had aggravated him so. However, this incident had slipped right under the radar; as his body was showing her nothing what-so-ever.

I refuse to let this carry on for much longer, Ichigo. I guess, perhaps my persistence will pay off.

She turned back; "What's wrong? Why won't you tell me?"

Silence.

Maybe...a different angle?

"Today's such a beautiful day!" she stopped, lifting her arms up as if she was about to sing a gospel. "It'll be bad luck if you stay mad today,"

He continued to walk; silent and with his eyes still looking down in that melancholy attitude he'd had all morning. Rukia slowly allowed her arms to reach her sides again, her expression dulling for a moment or two – while she tried to think of another approach.

"You saw me naked!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

A deep red splashed Ichigo's cheeks, and yet, he still refused to respond in any way.

The female reaper jogged back up to him.

She gently punched his arm; "C'mon, why don't you tell me?"

Ichigo was nonreactive, a dead cell. Rukia sighed; her vision glaring off into the sky. She turned back to him, studying his form. One hand holding his bag slung over his shoulder while the other was buried in his pockets. His footsteps were soft and monotonous, each step identical to the previous and undoubtedly the next.

"Ichigo–" Rukia reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, only for him to shake her off.

"I don't want you touching me...not right now...not after you..." he trailed off, remebering he was giving himself away.

"...What? 'After I' what?" she asked, growing serious.

"F-forget it." he said coldly, picking up his pace.

I-I don't understand. What have I done? The last time he was this mad was when... Oh...oh no, what have I done...

Rukia was beginning to be left behind as Ichigo continued on his journey. She'd realized her mistake. Once again, it seemed like she'd prioritized Ishida over him; and he was growing sick of it. But then again, he was foolish for thinking that he had any competition with the Quincy.

I know how you work, Ichigo. Thinking about it now; I was an idiot not to understand why you were upset. I know what you want, that you're desperate to achieve this 'goal'…but sometimes you have to hold fort no matter how difficult things become…You need to realize that no matter what happens, you'll always be one better than Ishida.

"Sometimes…you act like such a wimp," she began softly.

The pair of them stopped temporarily once again. This time a small breeze picked up, catching her pleated skirt and the base of his shirt.

He turned to her, suddenly taking an interest.

"You let yourself down, Ichigo… You punish yourself when there's really no need to," she smiled weakly yet contently, "You don't need to do as much as you think…"

…because you've already obtained your winnings. You've already collected your prize. You've already earned yourself that place that you're seeking… It's already yours. And it'll always be yours.

She nudged him hard with her fist. "So stop being such a wuss."

Rukia picked up her pace again, leaving the male soul reaper to think for a moment or two.

What does she mean?

Afternoon Period

Mrs. Aido gradually made her way around the classroom as the students piled in from their break period. She was a plump woman, her ebony hair was cut short and her clothes were about two sizes too large. An odd odor flittered around after her which gave the impresiion that she rarely bathed. But she was understanding and a figure that students had no problem confiding in. So, despite her less-than-appropriate dress sense and hygiene ritual, the school kept her employed. That; and she was always organized.

And that afternoon was no exception. Before the whole class had arrived, she had already covered most of the room – supplying every desk in her wake with all the materials needed for the day's lesson.

Rukia walked into the classroom, trailing behind the other girls returning from the restroom. Her eyes scanned the many faces around her – until finding Ichigo's amber orbs purposely avoiding hers.

It seems my little speech had zero affect on him. Geez, this guy is dense!

After explaining that day's task, which was pathetic to say the least seeing as they were high school students, the teacher smiled almost gingerly at them.

"Now, I'm giving you guys the chance to work with the people that you choose," Mrs. Aido began, clapping her hands together, "But only if you don't fool around with your friends. And remember – groups of three!"

Chairs screeched as the students pushed themselves free of their standard seating arrangements, and belongings banged and clanged against desks as they shifted their things from one place to another. The mandatory voices rose as the class members excitedly chose their partners for the day's assignment.

Orihime, along with Tatsuki and Mahana formed the first group, seated close to the front of the classroom. While the other girls; Chizuru, Ryou and Michiru made up for another – quite reasonably stationed on a desk near that of their friends. Meanwhile, the boys formed groups as far away from the teacher's lectern as possible. Keigo, Mizuiro and Chad made the most revelent three-piece; seated at the right corner of the room.

With all the main characters out of the picture, that unfortunately only left Rukia, Ichigo and Ishida in an uncomfortable predicament.

"Okay, now, you may begin,"

The noise immediately erupted, filling the classroom suddenly as if a sound balloon had been popped; unleashing its awfulness into the open space. Mrs. Aido sighed heavily at the great amount of chatter and laughter that had occurred, returning to the lectern.

"…Um, Kuchiki-san, do you have any ideas?"

'Kuchiki-san', 'Kuchiki-san'… I'm sick of this already! Not as though I want to talk to even Rukia right now, but there's no way that I could even if I wanted to! Not now that he's here! His voice is already driving me insane. With all his freakin' 'good guy' aspects! Why don't cha' jus' shove off!? Leave us alone! God, sometimes I wanna—

"Kurosaki?" Ishida adjusted his specs, "Do you have anything to contribute?"

"..."

Rukia watched the male Death God turn away in anger, his head resting on his palm. The raven-haired girl sighed, willing herself to say something to encourage him – to break him out of his self-disbelief. If that was, indeed, what was bringing his mood down.

Her head sharply turned back to face the neglected Quincy who had his hand laying on hers.

"Well, at any rate, we have to make it appealing and happy, so that the children will be interested," Ishida smiled, his focus fixed on her eyes. Her wondrous, violet eyes that moved something deep inside him.

"Mmm." she said, slightly disheartened. It disappointed her how little regard both of them had for each other. Weren't they friends at one time?

"Kuchiki-san, why don't you do the illustrations? You're pictures are so pretty, and I'm sure you're best fitted to the job. Meanwhile I'll work on the words and lettering."

"But…" she looked back at the apathetic Ichigo.

Ishida pushed back his glasses and sighed; "If he's unwilling to help, leave him."

Rukia was surprised at Ishida's cold tone, surprised that he even had the gumption to portray such a hatred for Ichigo, and so she failed to reply. Meanwhile Ichigo looked on, annoyed by the Quincy's comment and thus trying hard to bite his tongue.

That day's task was to prepare posters and flyers advertising for the Karakura Nursery. It had to include pictures, obviously writing, with elements that would persuade both adults and children to go there. This seemed elementary to most of the students in Ichigo's class; as this was third grade stuff at best. And with the end of term fast approaching, and the summer holidays just days away, the teachers were given strict instructions to let the kids 'wind down' with the easiest work imaginable.

So, after a few moments of thinking, Rukia got to work.

Drawing was one of her most favored hobbies, and it seemed the Death God was always doodling when the opportunity came; so she was delighted that Ishida had entrusted her with the job.

Ichigo had noticed the classroom was full of life that afternoon. Laughter, the scribbling of pens against paper, the incessant chit-chat of his classmates. Even the sighs erupting from Mrs. Aido as she ventured around the room, monitoring everyone's progress. There was sound coming from all directions.

Sheesh! It really is like a kindergarten class…

But then he noted that there was absolutely no noise coming from his table. He was still in his sulky, quiet state so that was his reason. Rukia was completely engrossed in her illustrations, not even looking up when he was quite obviously staring at her. And as for the bespectacled attachment, well, he was preoccupied with his work also.

Ichigo glanced back at Rukia's work to see her progress. He should have known that she was prone to drawing rabbits and bears. But this time her awful artistry skills had fallen to a new low. She was actually drawing squirrels and skunks…with dresses and top hats on.

She looked up at him, smiling. He saw the colored pencils in her hands, blue and an orangey-red. The blue sat in her left palm while the red lay in her right. And it was then that Ichigo realized he was seated to her right.

"Do you like it?" she asked innocently, her voice grabbing the interest of Ishida.

He was like some overprotective father figure, as he glared disapprovingly at Ichigo before adjusting his glasses.

"…At least a nursery is where your artwork will be appreciated."

The red pencil was thrown at his face, narrowly missing his eye.

"Watch where ya throw that thing!" he scolded.

"It seems that your bid to stay silent didn't last very long," Ishida observed, once again pushing back his glasses.

The orange-haired Death God was about to reply in a less-than-gentleman-type manor, most likely ensuring every other word was to be a curse word. But then he realized that this was exactly what Ishida was after. To prove Ichigo as a hot-tempered, temperamental idiot who was way too quick to raise his voice.

Ichigo looked at Rukia who was clearly uncomfortable about the situation, yet sat staring at him – awaiting his answer.

Is that what you think of me, too? It seems he's already won you over…

"…Whatever." he sighed, returning to his former pose.

Rukia's eyes furrowed rather sorrowfully as she watched Ichigo turn the other way and refuse to be social. Sure, she didn't want a full-scale argument between the two of them on her hands, but she wasn't exactly warming to this new, 'considerate' and 'well-mannered' Ichigo who steered himself away from confrontation.

Has he been so disheartened that he no longer has the will to respond to Ishida's comments? This isn't the same Ichigo I've known all this time. I don't know whether I feel sympathy for him, or whether I wish he'd grow a backbone.

Lunchtime

The field had been abandoned that lunchtime, as the grounding rain had scared all the students out of the idea. Ichigo was sat on a desk near one of the many windows in the classroom; staring out of it like a depressed puppy. The sky opened right up, and the liquid just kept falling and falling with no indication of stopping.

I hate this weather… Sometimes it's hard to believe we're living in Japan with all this crappy rain…

His amber orbs casually scaled the classroom; passing from face to face, until meeting with her form. She was standing only a small stretch away, peering outside just like he was. Her arms folded, her eyes dazed and tired, she stood still. After a few moments of looking at her, he turned away again.

Why can't I stay angry? It's pissin' me off not being able to stay pissed off! Just looking at her face, it's… it's so…

He looked back.

"Kuchiki-san?"

Rukia's eyes suddenly widened for a second as she was sparked into life; unfolding her arms and turning to look at the Quincy behind her. He held a thick book in both his hands, bearing it like a gift.

Ichigo threw him a death-like glance, but, unfortunately, Ishida was unable to receive it.

And yet he can strike rage in me. He can start a fire that's hard to put out… He annoys me so damn much! …Maybe it's wrong for me to get jealous, for me to get angry, but I can't help it. Maybe it's immature and pitiful, but… the thought of them two being remotely close stabs like a blunt instrument. The idea of her smiling for him, at him, instead of me… it-it hurts...

"I thought we could use this today," Ishida held out the book, "Ito-sensei recommended it."

"Ah, I see…" Rukia took it off his hands, quickly flipping through the pages as if she knew what she was looking at.

"It covers all the basics – the equations; both symbol and word;" he carried on excitedly, "I'm sure it'll be a great help to you. But, if you like, I could write up some things to help you understand."

She smiled softly; "Sure. Okay."

The bespectacled boy removed the book from her hands, beaming, before returning to his seat – just as Orihime appeared with supplies in hand. The female reaper watched her as she made her way, rather clumsily, across the classroom to where Rukia was currently standing.

"What's all this?" she questioned as Orihime placed the box on the desk.

"Well, I like to make good use of rainy days," she glowed, "So I thought we could do some origami together."

Ichigo walked down the corridor towards the supply room. Orders from Keigo and the others were to fetch something interesting that could occupy them until the end of lunch break. God only knew what magical possibilities the store room had in 'store' for the boys; but Ichigo would rather not find out. He was feeling so apathetic that Chad had to literally lift him off the desk and onto his feet.

He finally reached the door which had the respectively sized plaque on it which read; 'Store Room'. Ichigo sighed, admiring its external beauty for a moment, before twisting the doorknob and thus pushing back the door. The room was black with darkness, and so he quickly reached for the light switch – which was inconveniently hidden behind a plank of wood resting against the wall.

Immediately, he was hit with the question as to what he was doing there. And as to why he was acting so cold to Rukia.

I don't know why I insist on pushing her away when I mean to pull her closer. I want so much to be even half as close as Ishida seems to be with Rukia, but the thought of him interfering, it just… I don't want any competition, surprisingly, and I guess that it's because it's Ishida. He's my friend, and even though he really angers me, I don't want to fight him.

The male reaper looked along the shelves of the various arts and crafts stuff; everything ranging from the basics to items which he'd never heard of. And every shelf was dedicated to one specific thing; such as a shelf for paper, of every single size imaginable, every color and thickness. Canvases could be seen, even, at the farthest end of the shelf. Then a shelf of gluing materials; glue sticks, PVA, glue guns and even several types of tape. Basically, there was a shelf for everything that a student could possibly want.

Strolling past the immensely dull rows, he came to the end of the room surprisingly quick; where he was met with another window. But this one was smaller and almost perfect for someone of this stature; thus making the orange-headed reaper feel as if it had been specially designed for him and him alone.

Ichigo peered out of it, thinking back to moments prior when he was watching her. He could imagine her confused expression and even the words she'd spoken; 'what have I done?' and 'I don't understand'.

He sighed.

Neither do I…

Orihime smiled comfortingly at the raven-haired girl seated beside her, as she began cutting the edge off of a pink piece of card. The healer knew something was wrong for two reasons; from the moment she set eyes on the two Death Gods that morning, they were distant, and the simple fact that they were neglecting each other ever since they'd entered the school building.

"Don't worry, Kuchiki-san," she started, "I'm sure he's only mad because he cares. Kurosaki-kun gets like this sometimes…it's because he doesn't know how to show his feelings in any other way."

Rukia was a little surprised at her sudden comment, but forced a small smile in response; "I guess you're right,"

"So... Ishida-kun really likes you, huh?"

The female reaper found herself grow guilty.

"I've seen how he behaves around you. He always smiles and tries to talk to you as much as possible," she was beginning to get carried away. "Ishida-kun is a very lonely, quiet person, but, for some reason, he feels comfortable with you. He can open up and share almost everything with you, Kuchiki-san. You have a very unique affect on him,"

I don't think that Kuchiki-san realizes how wonderful this is. She has become the romantic interest of a boy in this class, and not just any boy, but one of the most intelligent and nicest boys in the entire world!

Rukia remained silent.

"He's so smart and kind and sensitive – and creative! Have you seen some of the outfits he's made? They're so beautiful and professional-looking,"

Kuchiki-san is so lucky, but why does she look so sad? If I was her; I'd be so happy. To have Ishida-kun like me in that way…

Orihime grew red as she remembered her mistake. This was Ishida she was talking about, not Ichigo.

"Ummm," she desperately tried to think of something else.

"Ishida is nice and everything," Rukia paused, staring off across the classroom, "Surprisingly helpful and sweet – always trying to show me how much he cares, but… He's so difficult sometimes. More so than Ichigo,"

Now over her 'moment', Orihime smiled again, "Ishida-kun is just full of feelings,"

"...I know. But I wish he didn't push so hard – he doesn't need to. I get it. I understand that he likes me; I don't need to be assured every five seconds!"

Ishida-kun feels so alone, that's all. Sometimes I wish that I could help him learn to smile more, to be happy, but I've realized – that it's only Kuchiki-san that holds the key. If only I can get Kuchiki-san to see things from Ishida-kun's eyes; maybe she'll realize truly how he feels.

"Ishida-kun...has probably never felt like this before," her voice sounded sad all of a sudden, "He isn't sure of how to show what he's feeling; nor is he sure of how you'll receive those feelings. He's afraid that you'll misinterpret what he's trying to convey – and that you'll reject him..."

Rukia listened intently to her surprisingly serious tone.

"It's like there's a box inside of him, holding everything together – locking all these feelings away. Ishida-kun is failing to keep them locked up, and is now pouring all his feelings onto you; because he thinks that you're the only one who cares...and because of this he's pushing everyone else away...and whether you can soak up these feelings that he's pushing onto you is unknown..."

A view of the field was laid before him. The vast open stretch of olive grass, untouched by human footprint nor human trash was to the far left of his view. It was a reasonable size, the standard school field size – starting off large and impressive once students first attend the school, which grows small and dull after the years start to pass. Benches lined the concrete path that skirted around the edge. Beyond them to the right was the large aisle of buildings which made up classrooms. And everything was drenched.

Ichigo could imagine all the wood on the benches grow damp and start to decay, falling apart due to the dreadful downpour. The sheeting rain distracted him so much that he failed to notice the added presence in the room.

"Kurosaki,"

He turned around, facing the Quincy.

"Are you okay? You seem kind of… distant,"

Ichigo gave Ishida's figure a good once-over. It was like an old, grainy western where the opponents check each other for weapons and anything that can be used as such. Or perhaps some kind of mafia-related scenario where the characters play out the same situation.

Well, either way, all the bespectacled boy was carrying was a few sheets of paper.

"What do you care?" his voice was monotonous, though his amber eyes were full of hate and resentment.

He pushed back his glasses; "Kuchiki-san seems a little 'off' today, as well, I just wondered if…"

Ishida trailed off, as if embarrassed by the sentence that had just exited his mouth. It was rude, he noticed, of him to accuse such a thing of Ichigo. Surely not every negative thing that Rukia experienced was related to the male Death God.

Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed deeper.

"What do you get out of this?" Ichigo asked calmly, almost apathetically.

The Quincy glanced up at him, frowning as if he had just been insulted.

"I care about Kuchiki-san, no matter what you think," he said, reading his mind.

Ichigo still had his eyes locked onto his figure, and as if he were a wild cat defending his patch, his territory, he stayed glued to his position. Ishida, acting like he was in fact intimidated, or perhaps just incredibly proud; refused to move any closer into the Death God's domain.

You know, I try my best to bite my tongue. For your benefit and for Rukia's. I try so hard to stay calm while you're around, to stay civil, to save face. But you make that task so unbelievably difficult. What should be a trivial matter soon turns into some great challenge… You infuriate me beyond belief, to the point of no return, and every word you say ticks me off even more…

"Really?"

"Why do you doubt me so much? I don't understand… What have I done to upset you so much?"

"I don't understand… What have I done?"

Rukia's voice rang in his ears.

Ichigo watched Ishida – full of spite and skepticism. The Quincy adjusted his glasses, his blue eyes growing unstable due to what the orange-headed boy perceived as tears beginning to form. Ichigo didn't know whether to laugh or simply punch the living hell out of him. Was he really this emotional? Ichigo certainly had never encountered this 'Ishida' before.

"All I've done is like Kuchiki-san – what's so bad about that?"

If this is how you really are, Ishida, I'm not buyin' it. It's unbelievable how much you've changed. This isn't the Ishida that I've known for almost a year – unless you're just very good at hiding your… 'emotional' side… You'd never cry, despite how much anguish and pain you suffer – I know that much at least. Well, you've never gotten all emotional in front of others before… Hell, the real Ishida wouldn't confess to feeling such things to someone like Rukia anyway.

"Why is it so wrong for someone to have feelings?" the desperation mounted in Ishida's eyes, and his expression soon changed from angered to upset.

I can't tell if you're faking it or not…

Ichigo no longer responded; instead watched. He was searching for something, anything, that would prove Ishida either a manipulative faker; or a real emotional person.

"I-I love Kuchiki-san! And that's something which you can't understand. You hate me because I'm trespassing on 'your territory', and what's worse is that Kuchiki-san isn't denying me at all – and you can't stand it! ...But why? I've never hurt Kuchiki-san; not on purpose, and I never want to hurt her again... W-why can't you be happy for me?! I can't help what I feel!"

Maybe...he's telling the truth...

"You know, I…I try my best to do the right thing – I don't mean to hurt anyone… I keep everything inside just so I'm not an inconvenience to anyone… But, but after someone has kept all this locked away for so long; there comes a time when they have to open the box and…and let their feelings be heard – despite how much trouble it causes…"

It's all Kuchiki-san's doing. If she hadn't had come along, if she hadn't have walked into my life and had that one argument with Kurosaki…if they hadn't have ignored each other the whole day…if she'd have just chosen another seat to sit in… None of this would have happened…

"Ishida…"

"Just forget it, Kurosaki!"

The Quincy stormed out of the room; extremely distraught.

…I'm sorry.

End Of School Day

Rukia studied him from across the room as he entered. He'd been sent to the school nurse because he hadn't been feeling well during lunch. But, he was fine the last time she'd seen him – before he ventured to the store room to collect materials. Something had happened either on his way there, his way back, or while he was in there. Because, when he finally returned; he was deathly silent and there had been a great change in his energy. Orihime had approached him and questioned him – but all he was said was that he felt ill.

I saw Ichigo leave the classroom a few minutes before Ishida did. Maybe something happened between them. Maybe Ichigo said something hurtful or did something to upset him…

After he'd completed his task of gathering his belongings; he came up to her.

She stepped closer to him. He looked so weathered, so worn-out. Like he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were red like he'd been crying.

I've never known Ishida to cry…

"Ishida…are you okay?" her voice was soft and kind.

"I'm fine," he offered a smile but this did nothing to distract her from the sadness in his eyes.

"…Okay,"

She went to her open locker.

"Are you ready to leave?"

Rukia turned around and nodded before locking it up. Once she'd collected her things, she looked at him. Once again, she found herself in a similar situation where herself and the Quincy were face-to-face, yet she didn't know what to do. He seemed to be in so much anguish – she wanted to know what was bothering him, yet she could feel herself grow apathetic at the idea.

There was a time, Ishida, when I felt the need to help you. I wanted so much to ease this pain that you were constantly feeling…but it seems like no matter how hard I try – there's no hope. I still want to help you, honestly, but you make it so hard.

The raven-haired reaper looked away awkwardly.

I dislike growing angry, really I do. I hate myself sometimes for speaking ill of you, for calling you a 'nuisance', a 'pain'. But sometimes, it just feels that way. You test my patience, so far so that occasionally I want to tell you to leave me alone – just give me some peace. The most terrible thing about this whole situation is that you're not trying to annoy me. Orihime said that you're just lonely and confused – but I don't know. I just don't understand—

"Kuchiki-san…" he began like a small child calling to its mother.

She shook her head, "Hmm?"

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Mad?" she acted astonished. "Why would I be mad? Of course not,"

He smiled before locking his arms around her, causing her to retaliate.

"I'm glad, Kuchiki-san… No matter what happens, no matter who turns against me, you'll still be here – won't you?"

Ishida unlocked the door, and Rukia squeezed passed him and ran inside. She removed her shoes, disposing of her schoolbag hanging on her shoulder also. She pulled a face of discomfort as she rolled down her drenched socks and looked at the Quincy as if asking where she should place them. Ishida, meanwhile, closed the door behind him and hung up his bag on the hat stand.

"Oh, I'll get you some dry clothes. Stay here for a moment," he said after noting her socks.

Rukia merely nodded, shivering slightly as the cold rain seeped through her soaked clothes to her skin. After watching him descend upstairs, she picked up her own bag and perched it onto the hat stand – mimicking Ishida's previous moments. She sighed, before padding softly into the living room.

May as well have a look around…

A fireplace was stationed in front of the sofa, a small table positioned squarely on the floor. Another table, more like a western coffee table, was to the right corner of the room; with a small television sitting on it. The wallpaper was beige, with an old fashioned floral pattern running through it with a border cut in the middle. It was a very western-style room. Rukia cast her violet eyes upwards; noticing a few pictures in frames hung on the wall.

There was a central large picture placed on the back wall. It depicted a family (presumably a family) of three. A man, in his late twenties to early thirties, dressed in a dark brown suit and red tie, glasses resembling those of Ishida's, ebony hair at a reasonable length. But there was no smile, no happiness in his cold eyes.

Next to him, a woman. A few feet shorter, wearing a crimson cocktail dress; with rouge lipstick and a smile stretched from ear to ear. She was very beautiful. Her hair was long and shiny, reaching just below her chest. Her eyes held such warmth, such life, and she looked as if she was naturally a positive person. But this was just a guess.

And between them, much shorter, was–

"That's me."

Surprised, Rukia jolted, quickly turning her head towards the voice. Ishida stood; holding a pile of dry clothes and smiling weakly. Her eyes darted back and forth for a while, then she grinned back.

"...You were so small."

He set the clothes down on the sofa, "Mmm. Ryuken says I was about five at the time the picture was taken."

She looked at him, puzzled.

"Ryuken...my father."

"Your father? Is that him?" she asked, genuinely taking some interest.

"Yes." his voice suddenly took a bitter tone, as he removed the wet socks from Rukia's hands. "You can take a bath if you like, I'll get dinner started."

The howling wind outside forced the heavy rain hard against the windows; preventing anyone from having a peaceful night in. The light in the bathroom was switched off, giving the room an eerie effect. Items were still visible, but giving the time of day and summer's anything but gradual slip into autumn, it was darker than usual.

I wonder if Ichigo's okay with this. Me spending this time with Ishida – he's bound to be jealous and apprehensive. But he has to learn to trust Ishida. I don't believe that he has a bad bone in his body; he wouldn't hurt anyone, let alone me – someone he proclaims to love so much. After all, he wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of writing me an apology if he was prone to bad things.

She picked up the soap on the side of the tub, briefly examining it before glancing around the room. Ishida's bathroom was considerably smaller than the one in Ichigo's home. And it was cold. Not cold as in temperature, but cold as in the atmosphere. Maybe it was because she was use to so much noise and activity at Ichigo's place, that coming to somewhere that had no more than one resident was strange.

It's no wonder Ishida acts like he does. He has no one here to keep him sane. Ichigo lives in a house full of personalities, people who'll always be there for him – his family. But, Ishida is all alone. And although he has friends, he's not really close with anyone.

Rukia slowly immersed herself further into the water, covering her mouth.

I want to help Ishida, really I do. I see how much pain he's in, but, I can't just shun Ichigo. We have a chance now, me and him, and I don't want to miss possibly the only opportunity for us. I'm in love with Ichigo, and now that's he's showing the signs of feeling the same way – I don't want to miss this chance.

She turned over the bar in the hands.

I think the main reason why he's holding off is because of Ishida. I think he feels threatened by him, that myself and Ishida have something that he doesn't… This is so ridiculous.

"Kuchiki-san," there was a knock on the door, "We should get studying soon,"

She lifted herself up, causing the water to splash and slosh around her. "Umm, okay."

A warm smile spread across Ishida's face as he held the towels to his chest. His cheeks glowed with content as he waited for the sound of her exiting the bathtub. He slowly padded away down the hallway and down the stairs.

She interlocked her fingers and stretched her arms forward, yawning soon afterwards. Rukia closed her book and clicked her pen, as Ishida entered the room; passing her a glass of water. She rubbed her tired eyes, smiling shortly as she took the drink from him. The Quincy sat down beside her, watching her happily as she took a sip.

He seems happier now. Perhaps all he needed was someone to keep him company. I guess studying with him today wasn't such a bad idea after all. I got most of the equations done and I'm feeling confident about the test – this guy is really helpful. I should stop being so judgmental of him. He's a normal person when he's not going on about love all the time...

"Are you alright, Kuchiki-san?"

She shook her head, recovering from zoning out. She turned to him and smiled; "I'm fine."

"Good." he smiled at her in return, getting up off the carpet and walking out into the kitchen. Rukia watched him carefully as he left, presumably to fetch something menial and worthless. Once he was gone, her attention turned back to the glass in her hand.

She relaxed her muscles as she put the glass to her lips again, narrowing her eyes in thought.

But...what's the best way to tell him? It seems there's no time like the present – I may as well get this ordeal over with. I want to be his friend, but I don't want to give off the wrong impression. I need to let him down gently...

Suddenly, her head was moved forward as a pair of arms were wrapped around her neck. She held the glass of water steady in her lap while she waited for the fluid to stop moving. Her violet eyes moved towards the side of her head where Ishida's face currently resided.

He whispered; "Thank you for spending time with me, Kuchiki-san."

"That's okay," she smiled.

He pulled away from her. Ishida looked at her, the same way which he always did.

Rukia looked at him with a mixture of feelings. In truth; she was beginning to lose the ability to feel anything at all. There was no longer one pure emotion; instead a broth full of anger, sympathy, upset and guilt (just to name a few). He did all these things for her, all these kind and sweet acts of friendship and of love and yet she couldn't help but see him in a semi-skeptical light.

She cared for him, but she found it hard to know exactly where she stood.

No matter how strong-willed she was, no matter how skillful she was, no matter how much of a woman she was; the Death God wished that she could just close her eyes and he would vanish. But then, she'd feel that rush of undeniable hatred for herself. That blasted conscience that told her to give a damn despite how much he played on her nerves – whether it was intentional or not.

There was a change in her expression as his hand touched her cheek. Luckily it seemed as if she'd evaded his watchful eye as the slight grimace soon vanished. His face drew closer and closer to hers, making her uneasy. She knew what was coming, and despite willing herself to pull away, willing him to decide against it, she remained motionless and speechless.

I love you, Ishida. I love you very much. But, unfortunately I can only love you so much as a friend. And that's all I see you as. A friend. I value your friendship, I value your feelings, but you can't force your unrequited feelings onto me – when surely you can see that I don't reciprocate what you feel. I'm sorry, but I don't want to be anything more to you than a friend…

For a while, for what appeared like an eternity, Ishida's forehead was pressed against hers, his depressing midnight eyes staring into her uncomfortable violet ones. Neither one them spoke, but Rukia could imagine their gaze speaking a million words at once.

The Quincy leaned in. Rukia frowned, more in distress than agitation, as her orbs shut themselves to block out his image. Ishida studied her closely. His fingers danced on her skin, moving from her cheek to her neck. He felt her body grow tense beneath his touch. Regardless of this fact, he tested his theory, parting his lips and approaching hers.

Feeling his warm breath, Rukia pulled away – only a centimeter at the most – but this reaction didn't go unnoticed by Ishida who let go of her completely. She reopened her eyes.

"…Am I that repulsive to you?"

I've never felt this way about anyone.

After lying on his bed for what seemed like forever, staring at the panels on the page in front of him; he lowered the manga volume. The male Death God had carried on for at least four pages like this. He hadn't actually read a word or understood what was going on because his mind was still hanging in the clouds.

Moments passed before he got himself up off the bed and padded over to the closet. He slid back the door to find Kon curled up like a cat on the mattress. Regardless of his sleeping position, Ichigo lifted the bed up rather roughly – flattening the stuffed animal against the wall until he let go of the mattress.

"I-Ichigo!"

The male Death God ignored his outburst and returned to his own bed, diary in hand.

He flipped open the book to the page which was written the day before. Kon continued growling angrily at him while making his way to where Ichigo was stationed. But he stopped once he realized what the orange-haired strawberry was doing.

"What are ya doin'!?"

Ichigo ignored him still, engrossed in what Rukia had written.

"Ishida… this whole 'love' thing… I'm sure it'll be okay…" she conjured the strength to look at him briefly, smiling; "I'm sure there's loads of people who'll –"

Before she could feebly resist, she was forced to the floor. It all seemed to go in slow motion; her hair separating and grazing her cheeks as it lifted into the air.

Ishida's strength surprised her; despite his physical appearance and build, his weight easily overpowered her. Rukia landed on her back with a soft thud, her grip on the glass breaking free. She watched it roll away across the carpet, tracing beads of water in an arch. After noting this brief action, she quickly turned her attention towards Ishida.

Her eyes trembled as her vision locked onto his face. He was arched over her, his watering orbs punctured her head with the great feeling of regret.

What have I done…

"Ishida…" Rukia began softly, attempting to at least get to a sitting position.

He pushed her back down firmly, almost hurting her. It was a forceful approach that Rukia had never experienced before, never even thought of before. Not from Ishida, the meek and subdued Quincy. Not someone so chivalrous. He was a gentleman, after all.

"W-what are you doing!?" her voice grew to a frustrated yell.

Rukia's eyes widened as a cold droplet splashed against her cheek. Her furrowed eyebrows lifted as she noticed the tears escape him. Most of them dropped onto his glasses and made his eyes a blurred mess from Rukia's angle, but some rolled off his cheeks and collided with his body.

"Kuchiki-san…you have no idea how it feels…" he began, his tone shaky and his voice broken, "To have this constant…pain inside your heart…to love someone so much that it kills you inside…"

Rukia swallowed hard, her eyes wide and pulsating as she felt the warm droplets land on her neck and cascade down her back and onto the floor beneath her.

"...Kuchiki-san, I-I thought you, of all people, I thought you... I thought you..."

Rukia laid still for a while.

"How can you just…just discard my feelings like that? How can you tell me that I'll 'find someone else', that there's 'plenty of people who'd be interested in me'… I thought...I thought you believed me,"

...He's so tied up in this... He's in so much pain – but why? His feelings have been kept inside all this time, but he's not the only person in the world to do this... There's something else playing a part here...

She could no longer bring herself to be mad. How could she have been so selfish – to ignore his feelings; passing them off as silly emotions of a school boy when she took her own feelings so seriously. Her face cracked as a wave of guilt flushed over her like a tide washing the shore.

I'm such a hypocrite...

Darkness flooded the bedroom. The only source of light was that of the moon; leaking in through the open window – ready for her to come home. Ichigo's evening without her presence had been pretty uneventful, to say the least. Sure, nothing much happened either way, but at least when she was around, the day seemed to have a little more purpose.

All he'd accomplished once he'd gotten home was the reading of two volumes of manga, listening to a whole album of some lousy band and the par-taking of several naps. He'd had a meaningful conversation with Kon, before growing angry and tossing him across the room. After that; Kon returned back to the closet, mumbling some incessant noise about Rukia's absence. Other than that, there was the reading of her diary – but that hadn't got him very far. He'd stopped about a quarter way down the page.

And he was sleeping now. A light sleep, but a sleep none-the-less.

There came the soft sound of scraping bricks, of someone brushing some kind of material against the wall outside. It was late and silent, and although the only noise was loud enough to wake Ichigo – the rest of the house remained soundly asleep.

Rukia struggled up the drainpipe; the denim jacket that Ishida had issued her with rubbed noisily against the brickwork beneath her as she momentarily lost her focus.

The orange-haired Death God's eyes flickered open, as his attention was drawn to the window again. He laid still in the dull light until he caught sight of the small hand grip onto the sill. He slowly gathered the energy to lift himself up and rubbed his eyes. By the time he was done yawning; her silhouette was fully formed on the window ledge.

She leaped down, catching his eyesight awkwardly.

"…You're back late,"

"Y-you stayed up for me? You didn't have to,"

Ichigo turned away.

You know I would.

"I-it's not that I don't like that you did, it's just—"

"What's wrong?" Ichigo said, in his sudden observational stance. "You seem…different,"

Something's not right here. There's a great change in her energy, in the way she holds herself. It's not anger, it's not even sadness…it's kinda'…strange… But, whatever it is, it's not right… Something must have happened…

The male Death God kept his eyes fixed on her as he stood up. His face cracked into a concerned expression – which made Rukia rub the back of her head uncomfortably. She hated it when he looked at her like that, well, she liked it when he looked at her like that – but that's what made the moment incredibly uneasy for her.

"What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"…N-nothing. Nothing happened. Really. I'm fine," she forced a smile.

Her voice was soft and quiet, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel 'put-off' at the sound. He'd never heard her voice like that, not so delicate and small. Something inside him snapped and his head and heart launched him forward, gripping onto her arms.

"Tell me, Rukia! Whatever he did, whatever happened, I won't let him –"

He pushed her back onto the bed so that she was forced into the sitting position. She was sure he didn't mean to, but the weight of his hands on her arms was too stern for comfort. Her eyes widened and shook with the same instinct as before. Feeling his touch reminded her of Ishida – which did nothing to numb the pain of guilt which she felt haunted by.

He suddenly let go, noting the emotion in her eyes. His voice drew quiet.

"Oh God…what did he do? Did he…" he trailed off, unable to even speak the words it disgusted him so much.

"No, no, no. It's not what you think! Nothing like that, in fact…"

The male Death God watched her admirably as she strived to compose herself. She was adamant that nothing happened, that she was fine. But if that was the case – then how comes she looked so weird? Like a beaten animal; her eyes had blown up like a balloon and her body had stiffened. There was no way she could act like that for no good reason.

But Ichigo had misread her body language, to say the least.

He seated himself beside her. His fingertips played on the sheets as he was unsure of how to comfort her. After some debating, his arm awkwardly outstretched and hooked around her figure.

She pushed his hand away.

He pulled back.

"I'm…I'm not…" she couldn't conjure up the words.

Her saddened eyes watched him as he tried to hide the embarrassment and disappointment. Once again a wave of guilt overwhelmed her, then a wave of regret and finally a wave of sadness. In the end she was unsure of what she truly felt.

"…So, I was thinking…about Saturday," he quickly changed the subject.

I love you, Ichigo, more than words can describe. It's just, at the moment; it's too painful to show you how much I care, how much you mean to me. So much is happening, and I can't…I don't want to hurt you by telling you how I feel when, when there's so much that I have to change… I mean, there's Ishida…

"Maybe we could get lunch at the sushi place…"

…Just Ishida… How can I play them both like this?

Ichigo turned to Rukia. He looked at her with a kind, open expression but she soon lowered her head. He shifted closer to her, his arm hesitantly hooking around her shoulder once more. Like reeling in the catch of the day, Ichigo pulled her closer, to which she didn't resist.

He looked down on her, as if cradling her; his palm on her cheek – massaging it with his thumb. She smiled, placing her hand over his; holding it in place. He smiled back.

How did this happen…A time when we could get so close in such a short space of time… A time where we've grown affectionate and we just…cling to each other like a veteran couple… Why does she let me do things with no hesitation? Why is it we can just… I wonder if Ishida and Rukia are like this...

"…Ichigo." She wrecked his train of thought.

"Mmm?"

"You know I still love you, right?"

"…"

"No matter what happens; what I feel for you still stands… I don't want you to think that Ishida has taken your place – I want to be with you, not him. It's just that with him in the way – how can we progress?… Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He smiled contently, nodding. She gripped onto his hand tighter.

After a long pause, she whispered; "Are you still mad at me?"

For, if you are, I may just breakdown here and now.

Ichigo laughed; "If I was mad, do you think I'd be sitting like this with you?"

She smiled, pulling away from him; her smile only growing larger once she caught his eye. He returned the favor, before his suddenly faded.

That feeling's back. Kicking my gut, punching my organs until they bruise… What good am I if I can't protect her? How can she rely on someone if they can't stand up for her? Something happened between the two of them… He did something to upset her, and I need to take action! I have to do something… I'd do anything to show you, Rukia. I'm willing to support you, to look out for you, to love you… I have to do something… Anything…

His hands slid gently across her cheeks, his eyes closed. Rukia knew it was coming, she could feel it long before he even moved an inch. And she dreaded it.

He stopped momentarily, as if adjusting himself; his lips an inch away from hers. Rukia wanted to scream. These feelings, embedded so deep inside her, she wanted to act on them. To have something that she'd dreamed of with Ichigo – the one person she could imagine herself loving forever. She wanted this love to flow from her.

But...there was always Ishida.

Rukia clenched her fists, her eyes trembling with the liquid eager to be released. Every touch, every sound, it reminded her of Ishida. She fastened her violet orbs shut. Flashes of his sad face erupted in her mind, sounds of his tears ringed in her ears, and her thoughts crashed until there was a pile-up inside her head.

How can I do this? Ishida only wanted to show me how much this is getting to him. I've hurt him so much. And I'm making it worse by letting Ichigo do this… I can't let this happen! What kind of person am I!?

She could feel his lips closing in on her, and she suddenly felt her chest tightening. This wasn't a fear of embarrassment, of shame or shock. This was shear rejection, of disgust. Not for Ichigo, but for herself.

I-I can't stand this! My chest hurts, my stomach's lurching. I can't… I can't let this happen. It feels like the walls are closing in on me, my heartbeat racing so fast it feels like I…I can't breathe!

Ichigo's lips closed firmly against the corner of her mouth. However; he wasn't allowed to stay there for long as she pulled her head back immediately afterwards.

He quickly released her, standing up to see what was wrong. The embarrassment was readable from his face, but it was obvious he was too preoccupied with her to pay attention to his own shame. Rukia meanwhile sat stationary, frozen, clutching at her gut as she held her head down.

"I-I'm sorry!" he said anxiously, genuinely apologetic for offending her. "I-I thought that, I thought you wanted, well, I know I shouldn't assume, but I…"

I'm confused. I thought…I thought that this is what you were after. After that speech it felt…it felt like that was what you were aiming for…Christ, I'm so stupid. If you went weird after I put my arm around you, of course you'd freak out if I tried to… What a jerk!

"Ichigo, don't apologize," she started comfortingly, looking up at him. "It's my fault."

He thought for a moment.

"Rukia, I…have something I need to tell you," he said bravely.

If I don't tell her now, there might be no chance of us ever…ever being together. I need to get over this stupid embarrassment. I've been behaving like a child. I need to face that fact that I either get this off my chest or I'll be haunted forever by that which I ran away from…

She looked at him, jaded. His trembling hands clenched into fists as he tried to compose himself. He didn't know whether to leap around the room in a gingerly fashion, or melt into the floorboards right in front of her. This type of thing took a lot of courage, especially from Ichigo, who was not the person to usually do such a thing.

"I…I…" he took a deep breath, bracing himself, building himself up.

Rukia gazed at him with half-cut eyes. She wanted to just collapse and sleep where she landed, despite the anger and confusion it would spark inside Ichigo. She was sick and tired of that day – she just willed it to end. The raven-haired woman had a good idea of what he was about to say. She could imagine the words already so clearly in her mind.

"I… like you,"

A moment's pause.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, DUH!"

"W-what do you mean by that!?" he yelled (he's wayyy too dramatic), "It took a lot of courage to say it!"

"Mmm, I bet it did," she said sarcastically.

"IT DID!"

"Shhh," she put her index finger to her lips; "You'll wake your family."

For a while he just stood there, the emotions rushing over him could be seen from his changing facial expression.

This girl has issues…

"You know what, Ichigo?" she said after a long pause, the top half of her body falling backwards onto the bed. "I can read you like a book. I knew how you felt long before you realized it yourself."

"…Well… Ya could'a least told me before I got all worked up!"

She smiled softly, turning her head towards him; "And where would the fun be in that?"