Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach…but I do own strawberries and have the right to eat them anytime I feel like it. *mnch, mnch* And no one can do anything about it! ;3

Written Notes

Thoughts/Flashbacks

POVs

Everything else

Ichigo POV

Ichigo quietly opened the back door of his classroom. Glancing guiltily at the teacher, who was in the middle of giving a lecture, he motioned Rukia through and they stealthily crawled towards their desks. Looking around, he let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, no one had noticed their hollow-induced late arrival. He took out a sheet of blank paper and pretended to write notes on the lesson. Instead, he wrote a note to Rukia.

Freaking hollow first thing in the morning. This sucks.

He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it, aiming for Rukia's desk. He slightly misjudged the trajectory though, and it hit her arm and bound onto the floor.

She shot him a teasing look and mouthed, "Fail"

He rolled his eyes and replied softly, "Just read it."

Turning away, Rukia nonchalantly smoothed out the paper and began to read.

Upon finishing, she crushed the paper back into a ball and tossed it back to Ichigo, who caught it one-handed, and without even looking and mouthed, "Ninja skills."

Rukia grinned.

"Shinigami skills," she responded quietly.

Ichigo chuckled to himself, and turned his face back toward the note.

I'm hungry.

Ichigo glanced at her witheringly, then wrote back.

That's obviously the most meaningful thing to say.

This time, Rukia caught the note, smirked at his response, and slowly wrote down a reply. Then she folded the paper to fashion a paper airplane and launched it from her desk. It glided smoothly to rest on Ichigo's.

Let me rephrase that. I'm hungry…for strawberries.

Ichigo felt his heart speed up as he read her answer, and looked up at her dubiously. She smiled suggestively. Swallowing, he sifted through all the times she had referred to him as "Strawberry."

"Hey, Strawberry,"

"C'mon, Strawberry,"

"Strawberry here has an idea."

"Right, Strawberry?"

"I asked you a question, Strawberry."

"Strawberry, Strawberry,"

"Strawberry."

Ichigo shook his head. There was no way that Rukia could mean him…right? There was no way she could think up an innuendo like that. It must be Ichigo's inner perversion getting the better of him. Yeah, he decided, That must be it. Carefully writing down a reply, he looked it over to make sure it could not be taken the wrong way.

Okay then… I think we might have some strawberries at home.

Satisfied with his answer, he threw the paper underneath Rukia's desk. Her eyes scanned the paper eagerly, and she let out an exasperated sigh. She sighed just a little too loudly though, because the teacher noticed.

"Is there a problem, Kuchiki-san?" she asked sardonically

Rukia sat up straighter and answered, "No, Sensei."

"I don't want to hear anything else from you today," the sensei demanded, not impressed. "Understand?"

Rukia nodded, and she continued.

"Now, back to the matter at hand. Given that the circumference of a circle equals pi r 2, we can implement this formula in…"

For the rest of the day, Rukia's behavior was less than friendly. When Keigo approached her to ask her out yet again, instead of sweetly turning him down like usual, she snapped an angry retort and he quickly backed off. Ichigo was extremely confused. After the teacher told her off in class, she immediately became crabby. Girls were a mystery to him.

After school, Ichigo and Rukia walked in silence until they reached the Kurosaki house. Ichigo cautiously opened the door, and judging by the absence of Isshin's roundhouse kick to Ichigo's face, the house was empty.

Rukia swiftly maneuvered around him, entered the room and thumped up the stairs, without a backwards glance. Ichigo heard an upstairs door slam. He stood guiltily in the entryway, sensing that this was somehow his fault. He remembered the conversation they had right before Rukia was reprimanded by the teacher. The orange haired shinigami looked thoughtfully to the kitchen.

"Hmmmm…"

Rukia POV

Rukia irritably slammed the door to Ichigo's room.

"Stupid Strawberry, "she thought tersely, sitting cross legged on his bed, "How can he be so dense!"

Suddenly, she heard a tentative knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" Ichigo's muffled voice requested.

Rukia considered saying no, but common sense overruled her will.

"Uh, yeah. It's your room, isn't it?" she replied snappishly.

Ichigo warily opened the door and walked in, a bowl of red, glistening strawberries balanced on his other hand.

Seeing the fruit, Rukia's face softened.

"I brought you these," he began, "I don't know what I did to make you angry, but whatever it is, I'm sorry."

He offered her the bowl

"You want some?"

This gesture of kindness reminded Rukia of why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. Encouraged by his thoughtfulness, she decided to act.

"No, not really." she began, "I much prefer the real thing."

Rukia seized Ichigo's collar and pulled his mouth to hers. With an almost painful expression on her face, she deepened the kiss, reveling in this sure to be short-lived ecstasy. She wanted to make this last as long as possible. After a minute, she realized that Ichigo had not pulled away, but had in fact wrapped his arms around her waist. Lack of air finally forced them to part.

"Rukia," Ichigo murmured, "I love you. I've been wanting to tell you that for the longest time."

An expression of joy spread across Rukia's face.

"Guess what?" she teased playfully, "Me too."

Emboldened, Ichigo mashed his lips against hers once again. He collapsed with her onto the bed, pressing her gently against the wall, a smile on both of their faces. The bowl of strawberries lay on its side on the floor, forgotten.