The Little Black Dress
After Ichigo had made his purchases and asked for them to be wrapped up in extra tissue paper, he stopped by a small grocery vender around the corner and bought some basic foods he knew Yuzu would be thankful to have and hid the gifts in the plain brown bag. Gifts? Should he consider them gifts? Hanabi Matsuri (The Fireworks Festival) happened to be approaching quickly, but was hardly a reason to give her so many things. He really had gone overboard…
He stopped by the ATM again before walking back into the lingerie store. He was glad that his allowance was sizeable and he rarely spent it. Though his father was a royal pain, he did well to make sure Ichigo and his sisters never had to worry about a part-time job on top of the work they did at home and school. He withdrew another large sum and folded it neatly in his pocket before shoving the booth's door open and approaching the foreboding shop where he could barely see a head of raven hair bobbing near the register. The bell above his head jingled gaily and his shoulders tensed, waiting for the huge mound of clothing and inevitable bill that Rukia would have waiting for him. However, what he walked in on seemed almost more frightening than what his imagination and calculations could cook up.
Rukia stood at the counter holding a polite conversation with the saleswoman from before. She was speaking in a hushed voice to the small shinigami, whose face was a tad rosy. Her things were already in a bag and wrapped very securely, so Ichigo was denied a curious glance. He approached the women cautiously. They seemed to be sharing secrets or feminine strategies…you know, the kind that always scare men. Ichigo was aware the Rukia had died as a baby and knew, despite his better judgment, that the advice of a woman was probably better for her in these circumstances. She was probably just talking about cup sizes or something, right?
"Ah! So you've returned!" the saleswoman said as he approached the counter. He nodded a greeting and Rukia turned her face away from him in embarrassment. Yep, they had definitely had a girl talk.
"How much do I owe you for her things?" he asked, setting down his completely inconspicuous grocery bag. The woman displayed his total on the customer screen of the register and Ichigo was surprised that the total was less than ten thousand yen (one hundred dollars). Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Rukia had put on her bubbly façade for the woman and assumed that her absurdly polite personality had bribed the woman into a discount.
"Thank you, Ichigo!" she piped up with a singsong voice. He shrugged off her appreciation and turned to leave. As he turned away the woman behind the counter coughed.
"Actually, I'll be getting off work in a matter of minutes. Rukia-san has asked if I couldn't take her shopping for some appropriate clothing!" she said expectantly, waiting for Ichigo's reply. He and Rukia exchanged a meaningful look and he pulled the extra money he had gotten from his checking account from his pocket with a low growl. He knew…He knew…that this would become exceedingly expensive. With a heavy sigh he handed it to Rukia save enough for lunch the rest of the week and the bus fare back home.
"Make sure you take that bus to get back to the house," he said, pointing at the bus route across the street. She nodded with an unusual amount of compliance and bid him farewell. In a way their parting for the evening was a good thing despite the dent in his wallet. After all, it would give Ichigo time to hide her presents and finish his homework.
"Oh, this would so spectacular on you, Rukia-san!" her tour guide to the ways of women said as she held a small black dress up against the shinigami's figure. Rukia looked down at it with confusion before taking it in her hands and looking at the deep neckline and flare in the short skirt.
"Sugihara-san, I'm not so sure I should wear this arou–"
"Oh don't be ridiculous. These are the things you're supposed to wear around a man like him. To impress him," Sugihara-san said, her voice practically humming with the excitement of shopping. Rukia found her arms stuffed full of dresses and skirts and revealing tops before she could peep a sound.
"But, Sugihara-san, I can't wear this!" she said, holding up a tiny white skirt. The woman tittered and waved her hand as if to shoo away Rukia's insecurities.
"Oh hush and I must insist that you call me Megumi, ne?"
"O-okay…Megumi-san," Rukia stuttered as she was pushed into a fitting room.
"Really, you have him in the palm of your hand already," Megumi's voice drifted over the door of the small space. The small shinigami tensed for a moment, a deep blush rushing to her cheeks. She would have denied its burn on her skin, but was in the middle of a face-off with her beet-red reflection.
"I-I don't know what you're talking abo–"
"Oh don't be silly! He brought you shopping and wouldn't even let you pay with your own money! What a gentleman," Megumi said somewhat whimsically. Rukia sighed quietly and let her gaze fall sadly to the floor. If only Megumi knew that Ichigo only did those things because she forced him to…
"I think he'll be mesmerized when he sees you in something so bold! The clothes that you're wearing are so…plain. You have to impress a man with your curves in this world if you want to snatch him," the woman rambled, leaning against the outer wall of the fitting room. Her words echoed through Rukia's mind. She let them spur her curiosity as she shoved her clothes in the corner and tried on the small white skirt and a light blue, zip-up top. She opened the door and tugged at the bottom of the skirt nervously. Megumi gasped and clapped her hands together, basking in her self-proclaimed fashion genius.
"So let me get this straight. In this world, you have to wear something like this to gain respect?" Rukia asked, a little more incredulously that she had meant to sound. Megumi, not taking note of the girl's accusatory tone, whistled and put a hand on her hip.
"Sweetheart, if you said hello to him now, he'd be speechless. Putty in your hands."
Rukia's smile widened into a grin as she thought of how much more peaceful her world would be if the shorty jokes and relentless scowling could be stopped. After getting an approval from Megumi, she returned to the dressing room, immediately grabbing at the little black dress.
A/N: Ow ow! Whistles and howls for Rukia's dress! Wait until you see Ichigo's reaction, but you'll have to bear the suspense! I like to let the atmosphere ah, age a little, so it'll be a few chapters.