Hello! Back for more are we? ;) Well I happen to love writing this, lucky you! Enjoy.

Edit: 'Aidez moi, s'il vous plais': Help me, please (in French. Thanks so much Lallaby for the correction. Hugs)

I also want to say that yes, I know Rukia appears somewhat rude and disjointed as a character, especially at the end of the last chapter where she totally dismisses Renji on a social scale. My justification for that at this point is that Rukia is a self-obsessed and naive girl. She grew up on her own with Byakuya in this story, and therefore doesn't have much else in her world apart from her beloved brother. At school she is (or was, until Renji stepped in) constantly harassed by Kiego and his cronies, so that didn't do much for her willingness to socialise. Instead, as you may have worked out, she takes solace in her art and her own company, which is evident with this being in her POV (I find Rukia's mind hilarious I might add) and considers being in the presence of other people quite a difficult conflict to overcome.

So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter and the ongoing story in general. I'm having so much fun writing it again. Note: some spellings may be different to how you recognise it because I come from the UK! And if you don't know what a Moebius strip is, look it up, it's fascinating!

Disclaimer: Bleach; I don't own it.

Songbird in the Lion's Den

Chapter 3: M. C. Kurosaki vs. Renji Monet

I yawned as it was nearing four o'clock and there was still no sign of Renji nearby. I was nervous enough as it was- how it always was when I had to wait for anybody, be it teachers, children, or my brother. The Karakura Café was slowly filling with students from school, which meant that it was usually time for me to leave. However, on this one day I had the pleasure of waiting behind for somebody I barely knew and thought looked like Mephistopheles the he-devil. It'll be worth it, it'll be worth it, I thought to myself, picturing me swimming in a pool of cash with a bowl of eel and rice in my hand, relishing early retirement from my artist's earnings if things carried on this way.

Ten thousand yen, I thought, for a single use of my work. I bathed in the knowledge that I was actually good enough to commission. For years now I'd always had a feeling that I could never compete with the big shots in our school, namely that Ishida Uryuu. His works of art were like something fresh out of the Renaissance period, and his sculptures made you feel like you were in the Italian Sistine chapel itself. The bastard. I envied that guy to no end- he'd already won major art prizes and he was only a year older than me. I was also incredibly jealous of the fact that he was going to Isotou University of Arts and I wasn't. The rich had it all, huh? Oh, and I used to have only the biggest and kind of twisted crush on him, where I wanted to be his bride and murder him at the same time, but those days were behind me now. Almost.

Finally, our resident president made it into the joint, lugging behind him the same orange-haired guy from before, who I would later come to know as the Legend that was Kurosaki Ichigo, and Jesus help me, Inoue Orihime! Heads inevitably turned to the trio, eyes mainly on the female redhead who was beautiful beyond words and logical thought. Renji spotted me crouched in the corner and held up a hand to wave. I smiled feebly and wished for this to be over and done with pronto.

"Thanks, you saved us seats. Ichigo, Orihime, meet Rukia, and vice versa," he smiled at me again, inducing shudders down my spine. What was with all this smiling business? It was utterly unnecessary. It only caused me to involuntarily conjure up less than decent thoughts of him, thoughts which involved no shirts whatsoever, a motorbike and a shovel thrown in somewhere.

He seemed to have mistaken my huddling alone in a corner where the couches sat as me choosing to reserve seats for them. Little did he know that it was a result of my 'keep-away-from-me' vibe in full swing. No one ever bothered me in my little corner, and that was how it had always been and should always be. But reluctantly I had to make an exception for Mr. Important there, who was currently gazing at me like a madman. What did he want for Heaven's sakes! I physically leaned back a little in repulsion, which only made it worse because he moved closer like it was the acceptable thing to do. Oh boy.

"Right, Inoue and I are ordering." declared Ichigo for the both of them, after having exchanged niceties with me in the form of a nod, acknowledging my sore existence. Inoue beamed at me, causing me to blush, before following Ichigo happily and, erm, bouncily.

It was as I had feared- sitting alone with Satan in the Karakura Café. Who knew what could have happened with Renji if I hadn't been so adamant in keeping my distance. There he was, sitting there, elbows on knees and humming something incoherent. Probably plotting his next government coupe, the power crazy maniac. The eyes said it all, those dark and slender eyes, the way they curved round the frontier of his smooth face-- Why, no one ever even thought of suspecting someone so humble-looking to be the bringer of their doom, slashing his harpoons (no doubt his weapon of choice) and gutting their children before their eyes. Oh the children!

Was I even making sense?

"Have you tried the cinnamon bubble tea?"

Ug.

"Yes." I squeaked as meekly as possible, my chain of thoughts broken in their steed. Narrowing my eyes, I looked slowly at Renji. "So," I started, bringing the conversation- if you could call it that- nearer more personal issues. "How's the Spring fair going?" Hopefully that would have been enough of a hint for that hairball there to figure out that he was still yet to pay me for my artistic services, oh, but no.

"Oh, it's fine, thanks for asking." he replied, baring his teeth in that atrocious act of smiling again. "I've been so caught up in it that I've kind of cut everyone off." he sighed, a hint of retreat in his tone. "No one's even bothered to see how I've been though. Shows you who your real friends are."

"Pfft" I scoffed, "You had friends earlier when- y'know- in the corridor." It was true, there were about ten of them following him! There was no need whatsoever to give him my precious pity when he was obviously deluded and fibbing to gain said pity. Probably did that a lot- too much power often ended up in numerous insecurities. It said so in a Dr. Phil book I'd read for English. Smashing stuff.

"Earlier? No, that was my soccer team."

Oh, so that's why they were wearing those odd shirts and shorts? I thought it was just a new fashion phase or something equally as spectacular. I coughed, biting my tongue and repressing the little voice in my head. Well they could have been his friends, who knows?

"Anyway, apart from that, I'm at least having a little fun with the whole thing. I know it's like two months away but I like to be prepared- have to make a good impression being senior president and all. Go with a bang!" he laughed, faltering to a silence when he realised that I was just staring wide-eyed at him.

He actually looked really good laughing. He had nice teeth, and I loved it when people had nice teeth. Inoue Orihime had the best teeth of them all. I silently shivered in the knowledge that she was like, ten inches away from me at the ice cream counter, momentarily put off my guard and oblivious to the fact that Renji had edged even closer to me on the couch. I was running out of room to escape here, dude! Any further and I'd be squashed against the wall, man!

"What do you like to do in your free time?" he asked, making me forget any instances of money and payroll with his fancy social abilities. But it wasn't going to work! I tore my eyes away from Orihime and looked him square in the eye.

"Hey! Listen, I came here to talk about the mon--"

And it was at that precise moment that the person who was my idol and would soon turn out to be my confidante interrupted with beverage-y goodness and airy happiness.

"Order's up! Here's your cinnamon bubble tea, Renji-kun! And since you're the newcomer around here, Rukia-chan- I hope you don't me calling you that-" I quickly and frantically shook my head and accepted the mango sorbet from the goddess standing in front of me. She beamed that sunshine inspired smile of hers again and joined Ichigo on the adjacent sofa. "It's on us, by the way! And that's final." she whispered loudly, and winked at me.

I was in love. Everything about her was one hundred percent and more. Having studied her eyelashes in the assembly hall from my place a few rows behind more than a million times; down to the curve of her calves and the cute shoes she always wore- her flawless skin and her endless beauty- she was everything I imagined her to be personality-wise. Head of pretty much all the voluntary organisations, head of literature society, and being the second smartest girl in the year only to Ishida, she embodied already at the age of eighteen, everything that each girl and woman at the school aspired to be a fraction of by the time they were 90. I know I sounded like a weird stalker every time I went off on a tangent about Orihime, but for me to invest any interest at all into anyone said a lot about my true opinions of them. Even my brother didn't receive this much admiration from me on a daily basis- only when he told me stories of the guys he beat up at school and showed me the new culinary skills he'd obtained from Home Ec. lessons.

"Rukia-chan! Have you fallen asleep?" I felt a poke at my side. I looked over and Orihime was leaning over the arm of our couch across Renji and trying to catch my attention. Was this for real?

"Huh, yeah?" I answered. "Sorry, I was kind of distracted." I coughed, losing my usual tomboyish esteem.

"Ichigo was just asking about your artwork- who it's inspired by- what made you wanna do it?"

Ichigo had actually asked me that? The same Ichigo who I always saw cornering small kids against walls and taking footballs off the boys in my year? Really? The guy wasn't actually two-dimensional? I glanced at him, and wasn't surprised to see that he wasn't even looking at me, or Renji, or Inoue, but the small stuffed parrot perched atop the bookshelf. What was the meaning of this?

"Guhh..." I stammered, still staring at the enigmatic teen at the furthest end of our human line. Renji caught on to the fact that I was waiting for him to face me and called out a swift 'Kurosaki!' partnered with a crisp click of the fingers to get his attention. Smooth move, Mr. President. I couldn't prevent myself quickly enough from smiling at this, and it was only Sod's Law that Renji saw the quick curve of my lips, and what was this? I had unintentionally fallen into the trap that made him smile at me again. There we were, two idiots smiling at each other. Oh man, this had to stop!

"Well, Ichigo-kun, I've always like the work of René Magritte and Francis Bacon, with a dash of Monet. So I guess they're my influences if anything."

"Claude Monet is a genius." Renji declared, apparently not being able to contain himself from the enthrallment of this conversation. Like he knew what Monet even was! Why, that little show-off...

"No, he's got nothing on Escher."

"How can you even say that? Escher's on a whole different plane. His artwork's about geometry, Monet depicts what we dream."

Oh my god. That's what I'd always thought. Had this guy been reading my diary?

"Oh, so you'd say those stairs actually exist in real life? Oh but of course, how could I forget. And while we're at it, get me a Moebius strip will you? I need to floss my teeth." Ichigo rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"You're being obtuse and you know it. I still think they're incomparable to one another."

"This is coming from a heavily tattooed demographic."

"It goes on and on." whispered Inoue again, to my bafflement. "Usually it ends up in a wrestling match. Men, eh?"

Amen, sister! I smiled sheepishly at Inoue, who seemed to take it well, which was advantageous for me because I don't think I was even capable of any other expression then. Unless you counted gormless.

"I'll handle it." Inoue said aside to me, sending another one of those heavenly winks my way. Could this girl do no wrong? Chain me to Inoue, folks! She is my goddess--

"Ichigo, let's finish our tea and leave Rukia and Renji to it. You said you'd help me with French, remember?"

--in a life where she doesn't decide to ditch me with Renji...! Can someone say 'Aidez moi, s'il vous plais'...?

Outwardly, I was calm, but internally, I had died on the spot. I wanted to reach out for someone, anyone, when the other two got ready to leave. I would have given anything to be that last tapioca pearl in Ichigo's tea if it meant he would have carried me away from Renji in the pit of his bowels.

"Okay, so uh, I got to go too uh, yeah, sorry pal." I quickly exclaimed, patting Renji on the back (which I immediately regretted and almost flinched at in disgust. What can I say? It was a reflex action) and fuffling with my schoolbag.

"Oh..." Renji uttered, his mouth opening and closing like a mackerel.

I made a run for it. Olympic hurdlers? Not after my record stint at jumping the tables, nope. No time to look back now! The only way is forward! There it was, the door, so close--

"You didn't finish your mango sorbet!"

TBC...