A/N: Another humourous fic XD. Set after the Soul Society arc, during the week between Aizen's defection and Ichigo's return the living world.
I also wanted to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to review :D. I really appreciate your support and kind words!!
Disclaimer: ...Yep you guessed it - Bleach does not belong to me.
Naive II
"I'm not going in there."
"Don't be a dick, for all intents and purposes you're dead. Besides no one here is gonna ask you for any ID."
Ichigo stopped struggling and let Renji push him into the bar.
"Two beers," the red head said to the bartender as they sat down at the counter, "and stop trying to be inconspicuous, you just look like fuckwit. No one cares."
Scowling, Ichigo contemplated the pros and cons of punching his new friend in face. Not only would it probably get him thrown out of the bar, from past experience, he knew it would give him a feeling of satisfaction. Deciding that there were no cons he rolled up the sleeve of his right arm.
"Here, drink up princess."
Ichigo halted mid roll.
"Fuck you asshole," he snapped changing tactics and downing the entire glass in a single draught.
"Congratulations," said Renji, with exaggerated brevity, "you are now a man."
Deciding that keeping track of the contents of his stomach took precedence over burying his fist in anyone's face, Ichigo concentrated on resisting the impulse to vomit.
"Tip for the future; don't drink it all at once. There's a lot of gas in there," said Renji taking a sip of his own beer.
__________
A few hours later and they were both pleasantly inebriated, although Renji had consumed twice as much alcohol as his young friend.
"Isn't Rukia great," he slurred, holding up his glass for a refill.
"Sure is," muttered Ichigo happily.
He had decided to rest his head on the bar, and was now watching the bubbles in his beer rise the surface of the golden liquid. They both sat in silence for a while, enjoying the various wonders of alcohol and the thought of a certain dark haired shinigami. A few minutes later Ichigo sat up straight, almost falling off his stool as he gesticulated in Renji's direction.
"There was somethin' I wanna ask you," he said excitedly.
Renji raised a tattooed eyebrow, trying to look cool and failing miserably.
Ichigo frowned as he struggled to gather his thoughts.
"Tha's right," he grabbed Renji's shoulder, fixing him with a decidedly unfocused stare. "How'd you protect Rukia from, you know, everything?"
Renji knocked Ichigo's hand from his shoulder.
"How d'ya think asshole? With my fists and Zabimaru."
The younger man pouted, an action which he would have never attempted sober.
"Tha's not what I mean," he said, angrily, "I mean how'd you protect her from all that, ya know, adult stuff."
Renji drank deeply from his glass before turning towards Ichigo with an expression of long sufferance.
"You've no idea," he said mournfully, "of what I've had to go through to keep that shit from her."
Ichigo nodded sympathetically as Renji continued.
"Once I literally had to dive over a table to cover her ears."
The younger man looked slightly guilty.
"I've jus' been runnin' away when anythin' comes up."
Renji sighed.
"Well you're a man now and ya gonna have to shoulder the burden of lookin' after her."
They both exchanged a solemn handshake before raising their respective glasses.
__________
Matsumoto, Nanao and Inoue watched the two from their booth, expressions of amusement, disapproval and confusion plastered across each of their faces. Rukia was simply attempting to ignore them.
"Morons," she muttered under her breath, blushing slightly as they toasted to her naivety.
The lieutenant of the tenth division chuckled appreciatively.
"Sweet and innocent, huh? Seems like those boys don't know you at all."