A/N:This chapter was originally going to have an extra scene, but I was feeling a little evil so you get a cliff hanger instead.

Mild Exposure

Ichigo wasn't what you'd consider a sensible creature. He had always been thoughtless. Rhea had been his moment of pause, the calming whisper of clarity amongst the disarray of impulses. So, when Ichigo call out to Yumichika, he was surprised by his own restraint.

Yumichika pulled back from Byakuya, and they both looked his way. There was little more than the most basic level of regard in Byakuya's eyes. He merely shifted his balance and lowered his hands to rest on Yumichika's shoulders, and Ichigo felt a great need to force him out of his composure. Perhaps with a fist or a scathing string of curses.

"Ichigo, w-"

"I just came to let you know I was going to head out."

Yumichika shimmied, pressing on Byakuya's chest just enough so that they weren't touching but not enough to push him away.

"You don't have to do that! Please, stay-"

"No, it's fine, really." He smiled gently at Yumichika before glaring knowingly at Byakuya, his lips curved like a bent arrow. "I'm going to the hospital to be with my wife. Thats where I should be."

Byakuya's cheeks inflated, as if filling with the air of an annoyed huff he wouldn't vocalize. His eyes stayed tacked, however, as he used his thumbs to defiantly rub circles on the slacked shoulders of Yumichika.

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Yeah. Another time, okay?"

Yumichika's lips curled into what looked more like a wrinkle than a smile. "Alright, I'll see you at home."

With a nod of the head, Ichigo was gone, and Yumichika bit his lips in the direction of his retreat.

"That was the friend you were speaking of?"

"Yeah…"

"He seems… pleasant."

Yumichika looked back to Byakuya with a wry brow and an amused huff. "He can be, actually. He is a textbook case of the apple at the top of the tree."

"Excuse me?"

"Hard to reach, but worth the climb," Yumichika explained. "He is one of the most loyal, pure hearted people I've ever met. That's why I wanted him to get out, meet new people. He forgets that he is allowed to think of himself sometimes." Yumichika shrugged and sighed, "That's Ichigo for you. The one who protects." Yumichika's smile turned sultry as his hands slid up Byakuya's chest to loop around his neck. "But that is one mountain that will not be moved, at least not tonight. Right now, I would rather focus on the man in front of me."

Byakuya's lips quirked as he pulled Yumichika's smaller frame against his own. "Tonight, you have my full attention."

xXx

Ichigo sat eating at a tiny breakfast niche when he heard the twisting of a door handle. Yumichika, wearing the same clothes from the night before, still somehow looking fresh out of a catalog, walked into the kitchen with a smile that reeked of afterglow. He practically sashayed around the room, a giddiness evident in the swaying of his hips and the see-sawing of his head.

He passed by Ichigo and ruffled his hair as he walked to the coffee maker. "Isn't it a beautiful morning, my scowling friend?"

Ichigo swallowed down a lump of white rice. "For some more than others," Ichigo muttered.

Yumichika filled a mug and sat across from Ichigo. He settled into his impeccable yet typical posture, lightly tapping against the side of his mug.

"So, are you going to ask me how my night went?"

"You just got home at eight thirty in the morning, and you're practically floating around the room." He snorted as he lifted his chopsticks to his mouth. "I think I can guess."

Yumichika deflated. "You're no fun."

They both retired to their own thoughts after that, Yumichika only speaking to shoo Ichigo's elbows off the bar and reprimand his bad table manners.

Ichigo grimaced as he pushed down the tasteless food. His appetite had been replaced by a restless curiosity that seemed to preoccupy all of him, and Ichigo hated himself for that. He didn't care. Or he shouldn't, but he told himself that he should at least warn Yumichika about Byakuya's infidelity.

"So," he said, his head dipped and his eyes peeping. "Are you going to see him again?"

Yumichika hummed. "Well, considering he only gave me his first name, I'd assume not. We didn't even exchange numbers."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Yumichika gave Ichigo a patronizing smile, the one you'd give a child that had yet to taste the saltiest parts of this world. "It was pretty obvious from the get go that it would be a one night stand."

Ichigo grunted, shifting through rice with the end of his chopsticks. "Good."

"Good? Why?"

"He's married."

Yumichika widened.

"Married? How would you know that?"

Ichigo sat the chopsticks inside the bowl and looked at Yumichika directly. "That was Byakuya Kuchiki. Remember? Our wives share a room."

"Wait," Yumichika said, placing a hand over his chest, "You're telling me that I had sex with the president of Kuchiki enterprises?"

The tips of Ichigo's ears burned and he twisted in his seat. "That's all you got out of what I just said?" he asked, standing.

"You said he was married, but didn't you also tell me his wife's in a comma?"

"And?"

"And, praytell how long has she been in this comma."

Ichigo picked up his bowels of half eaten food, avoiding Yumichika's glare. "Six years," he said in a hushed and hurried voice as he walked over to the sink and forked the left over food down the garbage disposal. He turned and lean against the counter to see Yumichika giving him a glare that he understood immediately. His brows were high and his lips were low and his eyes sat unwavering. It was one part contemptuous and one part wise, with just a dash of 'you should know better.' It was a look he'd received many times, and in the past, he would latch onto it like a rope, using it to climb from a hole dug by his own stubbornness and pride.

"I'm not wrong, Yumichika."

It was a Stonehenge of an expression, and when it finally fell, it was only because Yumichika wanted it to.

"Just because he is moving on doesn't mean you have to."

"That's not the point! It's...wrong."

Yumichika stood with a sigh.

"No, Ichigo. Rape is wrong. Wearing two different types of denim together is wrong. Everything else is just shades of gray." Ichigo crossed his arms, and it occurred to him that he probably looked like a petulant child that wasn't getting his way. "I think you are projecting."

"What?"

"Projecting, it means to-"

"I know what projecting means. I did take tenth grade psychology."

"I know. We took it together, and as I recall, you did rather well."

Ichigo tutted. "You would know. You copied all my homework."

"And now you're deflecting."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned to put away his dishes.

"I am simply stating that… It is okay to want to move on with your life. It is okay to want to move on and to feel guilty about that."

"That's not what I'm doing," Ichigo snapped over his shoulder, gripping hard the dish he was scrubbing.

"And that is okay too. Just like it's okay for Byakuya to move on with his life. His. Your morals are not everyone else's morals, and truthfully, I've never known you to be so harsh. I am disappointed."

Ichigo's hold on the bowl softened, and from the way he absentmindedly rubbed slow, soapy circles over the porcelain, it looked more as if he was smoothing out clay than washing dishes. He turned around to see Yumichika expectantly sipping his coffee and proceeded to run fingers through the hair of his dipped head.

"Thats a low blow. You know I hate that."

Yumichika let out a refreshed sigh as he placed his mug in the sink. "Why did you think I said it? You already knew you were wrong. You just can't stand to admit it. Now, you be nice to that man. He is quite lovely."

Ichigo scoffed. "You're only saying that because you had sex with him."

Yumichika perched his elbows on the counter and cradled his chin. "That's not why. Although, the sex was otherworldly. That man has a magical coc-"

"Yumichika! Gah, you're one of my best friends and he's, well he's- I don't want to think about you two- Just keep it to yourself!"

Yumichika leered at him and stood up to stretch his arms as high as they would go. He spun around before theatrically flanking the counter, his limp arms splayed across the granite like some sort of washed up jellyfish. He lifted his grinning eyes up to Ichigo and said, "I feel like a new man. He really does fuck like a dream."

Ichigo stammered, his face erupting into an itching heat. "Stop it alre-"

"So you don't want to know how I rode him like a dime store pony?"

Ichigo, breathless and inflamed, rushed out of the kitchen shouting "Henti," only to be harassed by the lewdly antagonistic laughter of Yumichika.

xXx

Yumichika was right. Ichigo hated to admit he was wrong. That was made evident by the brick wall of silence that divided Ichigo's and Byakuya's sides of their wives room. He could've sent it tumbling. He knew how, was equipped, but Ichigo's apology was a wrecking ball that just wouldn't swing. He tried several times, opening his mouth only to have it clogged by anger and shame.

The only communication they shared in was the occasional cowboy style stare off that Ichigo always lost.

Byakuya eventually left, and all Ichigo had accomplished was perhaps cementing another brick in that wall, making it that much harder to destroy.

After a while, he decided to aimlessly lap the halls of the hospital. He made ovals with his feet, constantly moving and yet going nowhere, marking his mileage by nursing stations, and even those went unnoticed after enough time.

He wasn't sure if it was mental or physical exhaustion, but Ichigo decided to splurge and buy himself one of those ridiculously over priced coffee beverages.

When the cashier told him that would be 889 yen (8 U.S Dollars), Ichigo muttered, "What is the world coming to" as he fished the cash from his wallet.

The cashier returned with his drink, which Ichigo took begrudgingly before he walked over to a bench settled in front of a towering wall of windows. He blew on his coffee, passively engage in the darkening scenery, and then took a careful sip, actually moaning at the taste. It was pathetic to admit, but spending money he didn't have on a frivolous coffee drink was probably the most self indulgent thing he's done in three years, and for once, he couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty.

"I was going to introduce myself, but I feel like I might be interrupting something."

Ichigo's lips sputtered in surprise as he turned to see a petite, raven haired woman looming over him with a sharp look of amusement. He used the back of his palm to wipe away a trail of latte that had dribbled down his lips and managed a, "Uhh."

"Eloquent, really," she said through pursed lipped chuckles.

Ichigo scowled, sitting his coffee cup beside him on the bench as if to say this seat was taken. "Well you didn't exactly give me a good introduction to work with."

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that." She picked up Ichigo's cup and hoisted it back in his unprepared grasp as she sat down on the bench. "Let me try again."

"By almost spilling my very expensive coffee on me?!"

"Well, hello, By almost spilling my very expensive coffee on me-san. I'm Kuchiki Rukia."

She looked at him with a smirk so obviously taunting, and Ichigo began to feel a sense of hopeless exasperation, a weight he was familiarized to, like a pocket watch he carried around everyday.

He pinched the hollow between his eyes. "Ichigo," he sighed. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, and we already met." He grunted and shrugged a shoulder, "Kind've."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I came over. I wanted to apologize for that."

Despite how etiquette bound Kuchiki's seemed to be, Ichigo had a hard time believing Rukia came over here just to apologize for their sort've, not really, first meeting, as botched and uncomfortable as it may have been. He immediately saw motive behind that sly friendliness of hers, but decided it wasn't worth the energy of contesting. Besides, as it was, he was too tired to keep constant control over the narrative of his life anymore. He was starting to think his story needed of a plot twist.

"Byakuya and I, we rarely argue, but when we do, we really do."

"I could tell." Ichigo snorted, elbows against knees. "Anyway, it's okay. I get it. Ya know-" He paused and rolled the wrist of his extended hand in perhaps the most inept, nonsensical gesticulation ever. "The family stuff."

He understood it, lived it, dreamed it. Even right now, him and Karin would do outrageously inconvenient acts of avoidance all to not be left alone in a room together. Literally, whole schedules changed and planes canceled all to accommodate their inability to deal with the aftermath of another one of their fights. Fights Karin would instigate, but Ichigo would fuel.

They were just too much alike, people say. Which is why he did understand the sisterly intent behind Karins crude declaration that he should just 'pull the plug or die with her'. He respected it even, understood it, those flames of frustration that lived inside of her, burning everything until all that was left was a chard callousness. He knew how to deal with it, because they had more than blood in common. They had claws and impulses, and when you put them in a small space together and shook them up, they just knew to scratch.

That understanding led to the most corroborative estrangement possible. It was easy in that way. Not at all like his relationship with the rest of his family. He didn't know how to navigate around his dad's glaring attempts at misdirection. The way he'd point out attractive woman while they ate lunch or rambled on about some new medical research team Ryuken was starting, wrapping it up in sentimental excuses such as "bonding". Nor did he know how to navigate around the smileless eyes and the selflessly patient demeanor of Yuzu. Either way, they all pleaded with him in their own ways, some with aggressive outburst and others with passive implications, but even though he understood, he knew that they never really could. Another reason he needed to get out of Karakura.

So yeah, he understood that tension between Rukia and Byakuya, because in many ways, it was his own.

Rukia stared out of the windows, and she seemed to lose some of that haughty air that kept her posture so rigid. "It's not easy, is it?"

"What?"

"Living your life in hospital rooms." Ichigo blinked at her, and she turned to look back at him. "For the patient or the family. It gets old."

"Is that why I never see you around here?"

He hadn't meant it to sound harsh, but the words still came out with the bitter sting of accusation. Ichigo wasn't mad at her. He wasn't mad at his family or Byakuya. He was- fuck, he was just mad at the world. It took his wife and all it left him with was outrage and no one to direct it at. He almost wished he believed in a god that he could look up at in resentment instead of walking around with a constant pressure in his chest, trying not to hate everyone he met.

She made a sound that was somewhere between patronizing and defensive. "It is not as if she can actually hear me."

"You don't know that."

She dipped her head, and he was surprised by the grin that sequenced her withered expression.

"You and Byakuya would make good friends. So much alike."

"Yeah," Ichigo tutted, "Good friends, like a spider and a fly."

"I'm serious!"

"I am too. I mean, just look at us." Ichigo plucked at his plain black crew cut t-shirt. "I'm surprised they don't call security whenever I walk through the door. Meanwhile, he's dressed in the latest whatever from Dolce&Gabbana," he said, mentally accrediting Yumichika for whatever measly knowledge he had on designer brands.

"Because we all know clothing is a true assessment of a person's personality," she said, lips curling. "Besides, what music you listen to or similar hobbies you have doesn't really matter. Nothing creates a bond like shared experience, tragedy, I mean."

Ichigo rolled the paper cup between his palms, wondering if Rukia had just revealed herself. Could her reasoning for this whole conversation been to encourage a friendship between him and Byakuya? It felt awfully high school, like when you got your friend to play the role of romantic diplomat, bridging that awkwardness by talking you up to your crush. The idea made him uncomfortable, and he decided not to comment on it.

"Shared tragedy? Did you know my wife's in a comma?"

She smiled, and as a way of saying yes, offered, "If you know the right people, information isn't hard to get around here."

"More like if you have the right surname. Are you Kuchiki's just naturally invasive?"

"Only if we find someone interesting enough."

Ichigo looked for any signs of tauning, but the punctuated wryness of Rukia's perked brow seemed more like her neutral than anything else. Again, he ignored the slightly dubious comment.

"So…" he asked, "When I said you didn't know if Hisan could hear you or not, you said me and Byakuya have a lot in common, but he didn't exactly give me the hopeful impression. Opposite, actually."

She smiled. It was small and stagnate, not moving past her lips. "Do you know why Hisana is the way she is?"

"No…"

"She had a brain tumor. Supposedly inoperable. Byakuya hired some mission impossible team of neurosurgeons and they came up with this impossibly crazy yet somehow brilliant plan… Well, I guess you could say it worked. The cancer was gone, but she wouldn't wake up. A month went by...Then six months… Then a year. She had just enough brain activity not to be considered vegetated, but the doctors still suggested they take her off the feeding tube and let nature take its course, so to speak. Byakuya refused, of course. He worked himself sick after that, single handedly getting the extra funding for a research patten on comatose states. It was all he saw for the longest time."

There was a wistful silence, only the background noise of cafeteria traffic seeping in here or there, before Rukia, seemingly unwitting to, placed a hand over her heart. "He's always had this war between sentimentality and realism. Most people do, but has problems with the balance, you know? Is he hopeful now? I guess it depends on what day you ask him and what you mean by hopeful. He openly admits that she'll probably never wake up again. He lives more for himself now. I think he knows it's what Hisana wants, but still, he just won't let her go. It's complicated for him, just...complicated."

Ichigo was still wringing the cup of now cold coffee, staring through the gray tiles. He could feel it spreading, surrounding him, that complicated gray. Gray floor, gray sky, gray everything.

"I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," Rukia said, "I get that vibe from you."

Ichigo managed a meager scowl as he stood and said, "I should probably apologize to your brother next time I see him." More to himself, he muttered, "That'll be fun." He looked back to the woman with a gentle smile. "It was nice talking to you, Rukia. I think I'm going to head back to Rhea now."

"I'm sure I'll see you around," she said, but as Ichigo turned to walk away, she added, "Hey, Kurosaki-san."

When he turned back, she was standing, smiling bigger this time. "I'm not sure what you need to apologize to Byakuya about, but if you want, I can tell you where he is now. He's in… er more like on the hospital."

Ichigo shifted and scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, I-"

"I'm sure he could use the company," she pushed, making Ichigo drop his shoulders. Was this suppose to be that plot twist he was hoping for?

"Sure," he said. "Why not?

xXx

PJ: No problem, love. Hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Sherryfanfic1999: Like, I had to pause reading this because I cracked up laughing in WalMart. Oh yes, there will be some future sexy time, but because it's Byakuya and Ichigo, it won't be easy.

Tifanny91: You're always keen to these things! And you're right, a little bit of jealousy doesn't hurt, but Ichigo doesn't really particular have feeling for Byakuya. Not yet anyway. Their interactions are always intense, however, and they are really antagonist to each other, so he cant really get Byakuya out of his head. I feel bad for Ichi in this fic and I hope I mange to make him more sympathetic in the future chapters because he's really at this complex stage of his life.