Prompts: Blue, bicycle, and picture.
A/N: You better enjoy this chapter because I wrote six different versions. I am not writing another chapter Four. EVER. Also, because this chapter is so long, I'm splitting The "Biker" escapade into two parts. So, yeah. Please review if you can. Thanks to everyone who had reviewed!
FOUR:
The "Biker"
Part One
The thing was old and rusty.
It was constructed of two wheels connected by many polished bars, a seat-like cushion, a turning front bar, and a revolving chain. She knew that it was a mode of transportation; humans rode them on the streets, mounted on the cushiony seat-thing, while rotating the chain wheel with their feet. Yet, she had never seen one up close before.
This complicated contraption looked dangerous.
"It's called a bike," Ichigo said, wheeling the wobbly mechanism out of the garage. "Have you ever ridden one before?"
Rukia shook her head, eying the rusty 'bike' curiously. She touched the handle bar and discovered that it moved. "Fascinating."
He laughed at her, leaning the bike against the house. "The tires are flat," he said. "I'll have to put some air in them."
"Air?"
Ichigo laughed again. He was in an odd mood today. He'd been saying strange things all day. "You have to fill the tires with air, or the bike won't move well."
She blinked. Compared to the bikes she saw people riding, with the polished paints and metal pieces, this wobbly contraption was outdated. "You're going to ride this old thing?"
He began rummaging through several boxes. "Yeah, if I can salvage it."
"Why?"
He looked up from a box of junk. "I don't have money for a car," he said. "So when I go to college, this is how I'll get around the city. All it needs is some polish, maybe a new chain, and some WD 40."
Rukia's enthusiasm perished at the word 'college.' She had come to abhor the word, because she was stationed in Kakura Town, and 'college' was in a different city. Now that high school was over, what was she supposed to do when all her friends left for 'college?'
Ichigo found a blue can, turned over the bike, and propped it upside down. Then he sprayed the bike down with grease, cranking the pedals in circles until the bike's metallic joints no longer creaked and groaned.
Finally, he said something, "So, what are you going to do with everyone gone?"
Sitting herself across from him, Rukia watched his distorted image through the revolving spokes. She shrugged. "What I'm supposed to do— slay Hollows and watch over the town."
"You're gonna be bored out of your mind." He stopped moving the pedals, letting the back wheel whiz around and around. "The closet will be empty if you change your mind."
An odd statement, in fact, it was quite suspicious. "Since when don't you care if I— "
"I am not inviting you to take over my dorm." He gave her a flat and serious look. "I'm just stating a fact. The closet will be empty."
A silence passed between them. The rear wheel whizzed around and around. "Hey, Ichigo?"
"What?"
"Is it hard to ride a bike?"
"It depends on how much you're willing to fall." Ichigo stopped the revolving wheel with his hand. What was that wicked grin for? "Wanna learn?"
She folded her arms neatly across her chest, thinking up the image of the street bikers, how their bikes smoothly glided across the cement with great ease. "It can't be that hard."
- - -
Riding a bike was not easy. She was bruised and battered. Her legs were skinned and bleeding, and there was a giant bruise on her thigh. Rukia had fallen a dozen times, but she was not going to give up now.
"Don't let go," she said, as Ichigo took hold of the handle bar.
He smiled. Rukia suspected he was enjoying her pain. "I won't."
"Yes, you will."
"I said I won't."
"But you will."
"Do you want to learn or not?"
She hesitated. She really, really wanted to learn how to ride the bike. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Liar.
Ichigo helped her balance the bike as she placed her feet on the pedals. "Ready?"
No. "Don't let go."
He smiled. Crap. What had she gotten herself into?
While Ichigo ran beside her helping to balance the bike, she pedaled. Then, all of the sudden, when she was at full speed, he said, "Okay, I'm going to let go now."
"You said you wouldn't."
"I lied."
"You bastard— " But Ichigo had already let go. He even gave her a little (okay, a huge) push.
The bike wobbled a little, but Rukia held the handle bars firmly and pedaled like she had never pedaled before. That was all she thought about: pedaling and staying alive. If she fell at this speed, she would definitely eat cement.
For about ten feet, she rode smoothly without falling. She laughed. She was actually riding a bike!
Then, suddenly, there was a loud zip and the bike stopped on a dime. There was no time to react. In a flash, she was sent over the handlebars and slammed into the pavement.
"Rukia!"
For a long moment, she lay on the cold pavement, stunned and out of breath.
"Rukia! Hey!"
Finally, Rukia moaned and sat up. Pain shot through her ankle. Her shoe was attacked to the chain by the shoe laces, and her foot was twisted an uncomfortable angle. Great. Now how was she going to learn to ride a bike? Ichigo scowled. "You moron," he said, kneeling beside her. "You're supposed to make sure your shoes are tied before you get on the bike. That's like the Number One Law of Bike Riding!"
Number One Law of Bike Riding? Ha!
"Moron? I'm the moron?" She glared at him. "You're the idiot teacher. You said you wouldn't let go and you did!"
He rolled his eyes and removed the shoe. He was not gentle with her tender ankle either. "That's how everybody learns," he said, untangling the shoelaces. "Are you alright or not?"
She scowled. "Fine."
Ichigo tried to examine her ankle, but she pushed him off. He sighed. "We should call it quits for today."
"Not yet."
"You can't keep going."
"Oh, yes I can. Just watch me. I'll— "
"No you can't." He thrust a finger at the front wheel, which was now bent awkwardly. "You screwed up the wheel."
Her spirits sank with disappointment. "Oh." Rukia sighed and stood up. She cringed at the pain in her ankle, and at the pain infecting the rest of her bruised body. Ichigo tried to help her again, but she fought him off. "I'm still mad at you."
So she limped home, and swore that when Ichigo fixed the front wheel, she get back on the bike and try again.
- - -
Inoue was cautious of many things, but she was extra careful of motorcyclists. You know, the burly men in leather jackets who keep their faces hidden behind bushy beards and dark sunglasses, who ride around town, showing off those noisy, masculine Harleys.
Motorcyclists.
Those were people Inoue avoided, and those were the people who pulled up into the parking lot as she made her way to the check out.
She heard them before she even saw them. Bruuuuuuuuummmm, bruuuuummmm….brrruuuumm!
"Don't worry," said the clerk. "They don't cause trouble. They're just noisy."
Inoue nodded, although she was not too convinced.
The clerk stopped ringing up the vegetables. "Is that…is that a phone?"
Inoue looked around. She heard the chirpy ring and realized that it was her own cell phone. "It's mine," she said, glancing at the ID, and then frowned. "Kurosaki-kun…"
Why was he calling? Was something wrong? Was there a Hollow around? She stared at the phone. Fighting Hollows was a dangerous business. What if someone had gotten hurt?
"Who's that?"
Inoue ignored her and answered. She tried to sound confident, "Y-Yes?"
"Inoue?" Sure enough, it was Kurosaki-kun, but there something uncertain, possibly even frustrated, about his voice.
"Hello."
"I hate to bother you like this, but…um…can we borrow your healing abilities for a bit?"
She fumbled for her wallet. "Is someone hurt?"
Kurosaki-kun hesitated. "Rukia sort of screwed up her ankle, but she's fine," he added quickly just as Inoue let out a loud gasp. "We were uh…well, she sucks at riding a bike."
Inoue's eyes widened. She glanced at the burly bikers outside, caped in leather jackets, leaning against their Harleys while smoking giant cigars. "You mean…like a bike-bike? Like— like the kind that makes lots of noise?"
He sort of laughed. "Trust me; Rukia makes plenty of noise when she rides."
Inoue snatched another look at the bikers outside. She tried to picture Kuchiki-san riding a Harley, caped in a leather jacket and maybe a leather skirt, with big leather high-healed boots, smoking a cigar, and painted up in hostile-looking tattoos. A discomforting image. Inoue despised it.
"Kurosaki-kun…where did Kuchiki-san get a bike?"
"Well, it was my bike…"
Bruuuuuummmm….bruuuuuuummmm!
Another gasp. "When did you get one? I-I thought you couldn't afford a car…"
The motorcyclists howled with laughter.
"Well, it's been sitting in my garage forever, so I thought I pull it out. Then Rukia wanted to learn how to ride it and she totally wiped out…"
Totally wiped out…
Suddenly, the image of Kuchiki-san in her leather skirt, lying in a hospital bed, all bandaged up, flashed through her mind. Her motorcycle was somewhere smashed into a telephone pole.
"Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun," Inoue said quickly. "I'll be right there."
This was definitely a strange development. Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san were such a strange pair. "Can you hurry?" she asked the clerk. "My friend's been in a motorcycle accident and she's very hurt."
The clerk blinked. She glanced at the motorcyclists. "You mean in like…a motorcycle accident?"
"Yes, hurry please!"
Silently, Inoue promised that she would do everything she could to help this new leather caped Kuchiki-san, because that was what friends were for.
- - -
Ichigo stared at the woman standing on his porch. He was horror struck at the very sight of a living dinnosaur. She was a gangly little thing, with a big nose and dark, stringy hair. In her hand she wielded a blue notebook and a No. 2 pencil. He had expected Inoue, not this…this…freak in the purple suit.
"Who the hell are you?"
The woman sniffed the air, put her shoulders back, and said as if she were some grand aristocrat, "I am Mira Trident of the Dragonfly Times."
She waited, as if expecting a wholesome greeting.
Ichigo blinked. "Dragonfly Times?" he repeated. "Wait, you're a reporter?"
Mira Trident looked offended. "That's what I said. What sort of tomfool has yet to hear of me, Mira Trident of the Dragonfly Times?"
"The Dragonfly Times," he repeated slowly. "Isn't that a woman's tabloid or something?"
Mira Trident sucked in a bunch of air through her oversized nose and pursed her pale lips. "The Dragonfly Times is a weekly paper written strictly for women, by women, and about women," she huffed, looking him up and down disapprovingly. "I don't expect dullard beefcake like you to understand."
"Beefcake? Beefcake?" The reporter pushed past him and into the clinic. Ichigo whirled around. "Did you just call me a beefcake?"
Mira flicked her eyes toward the ceiling and made a disgusted sound. "Men are twats," she muttered. "Now, where is this girl I heard about? The one who was in the motorcycle accident. I believe an interview is in order, so if you would at least muster up a bit of..."
This woman was absolutely ridiculous. He wanted her gone as soon as possible, away from his house and family. Ichigo pointed to the door. "Out," he barked.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, out. Get your purple ass out of my house. Now."
Mira's laugh was high and piercing. "My, what a limited caliber you have. I'll try this again." She cleared her throat. Then, she spoke each word loudly and one by one: "The. Girl. Who. Was. In. The. Motor-bike. Accident. Where. Is. She?"
Ichigo's temper was going haywire. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. No girl was brought here today. Leave now."
Mira Trident sighed impatiently and looked him square in the eye. She waved a skinny finger in his face. "My cousin-in-law is employed at a grocer mart, and she heard tale of a most terrible cycling accident involving some girl. Now, I write on behalf of all women in Kakura Town, so naturally the story of a female biker involved in a serous crash is not only interesting, but moving." She placed a hand over her flat chest. "It's touches our hearts in a sad and inspiring manner."
Bikers…wait a minuet. Suddenly, as ridiculous as it seemed, it clicked. "Are you talking about Rukia?"
Mira straightened up. "Rukia? Is that her name?"
"Well, yeah, but— "
"So you do know her! Well, where is she? Come on, speak up boy. This is front page material!"
To Ichigo's utter dismay, Rukia chose to limp into the hallway at the moment. "Hey," she said. "Yuzu says lunch is…" Her eyes fell on Mira. She looked from Mira to Ichigo. "Who the hell is she?"
Mira straightened up again. She marched over to Rukia and shook her hand (it was unrequited handshake).
"I am Mira Trident of the Dragonfly Times," she said loudly. "You look like an intelligible girl. I'm looking for someone named 'Roo-ki-aw.'"
Rukia looked at Ichigo questioningly. He mouthed 'don't do it,' and yet she still said, "That would be me. What do you want?"
Mira beamed. "Wonderful, simply wonderful!" She looked Rukia up and down. "I see the accident wasn't as serious I thought…a little bruised and…limping. Poor dear. You're feeling alright?"
Rukia looked down at scrapped up knees and swollen ankle. There was a great purple-black bruise stretching across her thigh.
"It's nothing serious," said Rukia. "I've seen much worse than this." She glared at Ichigo. She still had not forgiven him.
Mira Trident flipped open her blue note book and began scribbling down notes. "I see. So you have some experience. Tell me, as a woman, why did you start riding?"
"It looked like fun and lots of people ride bikes so I— "
"— I see, I see, and what do you feel that motorcycling is limited to the male stereotype?"
Rukia laughed. "Male stereotype?" she said. "I'm wearing a dress, lady."
"I see no leather…actually you look quite sweet for a Mad Hog."
Ichigo snorted.
Mira nodded. "Do you think in the future that women can overcome the negative pigeonhole concerning female bikers? Or as you young people might say, 'screw the leather?'"
Finally, Ichigo's temper went haywire. "Sorry, strike three, you're outta here, goodbye!"
Ichigo seized Mira Trident by the collar of her atrociously purple, pin stripped suit and dragged her (cursing and uttering insulting things) out of the clinic. He threw her into the street and oddly enough, she landed right next to his bent up, rusty old bicycle. Then he slammed the door shut.
"That was mean," Rukia said. "You didn't have to be so rough."
"Whatever. I just saved your reputation."
He slid the dead bolt into place.
Thank God.
At last, they were safe from the barmy Mira Trident.
A/n: Mira Trident and the Dragonfly Times were named by the great Al May. Anyways, don't forget to review please. I usually don't write stuff like this, but whatever. Thank you to everyone who actually finished this chapter!
