A/N: Again, a thousand thank-you's to the lovely readers who've given this story a chance. I'm really, really grateful for your support :)

Disclaimer: The only Bleach I own is the one that ruins coloured clothes.

Warning: Language. Fluff (hopefully a "KYA~!"-inducing moment?).

Ichigo stayed up until he saw the girls dispersing back into the school, signalling that lunch was almost over. Mizuiro had gone on ahead several minutes ago, serious about giving him his share of Inoue's chocolates. Oddly, he felt guilty but still appreciative of it, despite thinking how careless his friend seemed at throwing away Inoue's efforts. And possible affection?

Reaching the final step, he turned the corner and immediately bumped into someone. With quick reflexes, he'd taken hold of their shoulders with his wrists―his hands being full of chocolate boxes―to hold them steady. A waft of strawberries assaulted his nose and he looked down at auburn hair. Her arms were against his chest, softly muttering "Gomen," and she raised her head too quickly and bumped his chin.

His teeth rattled with the impact and Ichigo almost bit his tongue. He felt like someone had clocked him with a strong hook, and coming from her, he thought that it was well-deserved.

"Ara, Kurosaki-kun! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" she flailed, trying to reach up to his chin to soothe him. "Should I use Souten Kiss―"

"―It's alright, Inoue―"

"―Are you sure? My head's really hard and―"

"―No harm done. See?"

She stopped. And the world around them also seemed to. He held his breath, realizing her hands were cupping his cheeks, and if he moved a muscle...if he should lower his head down just a little more or even if she should raise herself up on her tiptoes...

He flushed at the thought, and the spell shattered and they broke away. Embarrassed, and not able to meet each other's gazes, a part of him was relieved to find that she was as red as he in the brief glances he'd thrown her way.

"Ara, did I give you two?"

"Eh?"

Inoue gestured to the boxes in his hands.

"Uh, Mizuiro gave me his." He looked at her from beneath his lashes, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Oh."

Was she disappointed? It did, after all, seem like an outright rejection. He scowled, regretting thinking that word again.

She giggled, seeming not at all displeased, her eyes trained on him instead, and he felt a hitch in his chest when she directed her smile at him.

Her eyes bright, she remembered the bag slung on one of her wrists and she reached for something inside it.

"Say ah," Inoue bade.

"Huh?" She plopped something in his mouth, fingers briefly touching his lips.

Ichigo gaped at her like a fish while she stared at him expectantly until he realized, from the sudden taste that melted on his tongue, that she had fed him a chocolate.

"What do you think, Kurosaki-kun? I've been learning how to make them at the store."

He closed his mouth and chewed carefully. "Nougat?"

She nodded. "Along with different flavours. Not wasabi, though. Manager wouldn't let me."

He swallowed. "It's really good, Inoue. It's light and not too sweet."

"You like it?"

He nodded.

"Want another one?"

He hesitated, but only momentarily, wanting to prolong being with her in this not-quite-friendship and not-quite-something-other that they'd suddenly found themselves in. "Sure."

Eyes locked, she held another chocolate to his lips, and he closed his mouth around her fingers in an almost kiss, her touch lingering.

They stayed liked that until the bell rang.

Unusually, a flying kick didn't greet Ichigo when he walked through the door of his house. Oh, his father was there, waiting with arms folded across his chest, tilting his head this way and that as he tried to take a peek at something about Ichigo's person. And after a few minutes of not finding what he was searching for, sighed dejectedly and walked away with a quiet sob towards Masaki's poster.

The whole time Ichigo had kept a grip on the doorknob, ready to flee at a moment's notice, but this weird behaviour from his father actually left him flabbergasted.

"What the fuck? Oyaji...?"

"Ichi-nii..." came the tearful, tremulous voice of Yuzu. "You didn't get any chocolates again this year, did you?"

"Eh?"

She ran to join their father, now crouched in front of the poster, somehow alit with their very own spotlight.

Against the wall leant Karin, her half-lidded pitying gaze trained on him as she shook her head, muttering "Hopeless," under her breath before she too turned her back and walked away.

Tense, Ichigo treaded softly towards the stairs, every once in a while looking back towards his family, feeling at an utter loss about the situation.

Sighing as he reached his room, he flopped down on the chair by his desk and carefully took out the two identical boxes from his bag. His was the very obviously worn and slightly crushed one. A derisive chuckle escaped from his chest as he had the maddening thought that it mirrored his own feelings on this particular day. At least, at the start of it. From the end of lunch period and onward, he had felt uplifted. Contented.

With a sigh, he finally lifted the lid.

An emotion he couldn't name settled in his chest as he felt his lungs expand at the sight. He lifted the lid of the other box. Inside Mizuiro's box were perfectly rounded chocolates, unbroken and unmarred, while in his two and two of each seemed to have curiously melded together. Two rounded tops with the bottom coming to a point. Like a heart.

Tentatively, he took one in hand and raised it to his lips.

He missed her fingers.

A/N: The concept of the nougat was inspired by Terry Pratchett's Thief of Time.

Thanks for reading :)
Nov/2010