Author's note: This is like the fourth attempt for this chapter and to be honest I'm still not very happy with it, but oh well. Unbeta'd as usual- what do you expect from an overworked student?
Thanks for the feedback.
IIII
It isn't until they're getting seated for their third class of the day (him still seething over Rukia's unceremonious arrival and subsequent avoidance any form of conversation between them) that Tatsuki mutters a comment that makes him revaluate this whole sordid mess that has become him and Rukia or Rukia and him? It doesn't really matter though, because either way he's screwed it up before it's even began.
"Stop acting like some jealous boyfriend."
The words keep ringing in his head even as he tries to concentrate on the lesson and resist glancing at the girl besides him. Who by the way hasn't given anything away and laughed nervously mumbling incoherent bad acting lines when asked about Ichigo's bruised eye. There's a headache right between his eyes and he knows his over thinking things trying to rationalise what he feels versus what he should feel.
Reason tells him he should wait it out, let it blow over and hope their friendship survives the storm. But Ichigo is anything but reasonable. He is rash, impulsive and one track minded. It's a wonder Rukia has put up with him for so long. Then again she's no prize either. It takes a certain patience to deal with her nagging, bossy tendencies and extortion of his monthly allowance. Not to mention the GBH with intent.
His scowl deepens and he does glance in her direction then. She's bent over her workbook supposedly working on the Maths exercise but he knows it's all deformed bunnies and whatever other crazies that go on in her head. But it's such a Rukia thing to do his anger seems to ebb out of him. Heck he isn't even angry at her really, mostly himself.
How many blow up their first kiss so royally? Yet Rukia isn't completely blameless.
Because it's in the way her hair falls over her face almost flawlessly. The way she can be a haughty Shinigami the one moment and an overly preppy school girl the next. The way she has no conception of privacy or personal space. How she seems to take up every inch of his life like she'd been doing it all along. Pestering him for trivial items no ordinary teenage girl should still show an interest in. Or the way she always knows how to pick him back up with a kick or a sentence.
But really its' the way he's been falling for her from the start without even realising it was already happening. He drops his head onto his table, not caring what image he presents. Because he is so stupid and so screwed right now.
The bell seems to ring from another world and he entertains the notion of just remaining in his desk, face down and pretending the world doesn't exist. Only the annoying poking to his shoulder refuses to be ignored. He turns his face into her direction, glaring at the intrusion. Isn't it enough her mere presence disrupts his very being? He wonders resigned to his fate.
Rukia looks concerned for him but she presents him with his bento box instead. "I already ate the other rice cake," she says, not even a tad guilty. "I figured you must be hungry and that's why you've been banging your head against your table."
Now he knows what she was doing in first period with her book covering half her face- stuffing herself with his lunch. Something she wouldn't have had to do had she not runaway.
He raises himself with his elbows, glancing at the remaining contents. "Hey shouldn't there be a treat?" he asks suspiciously.
She blinks innocently at him but he notices the glittering piece of candy at the corner of her mouth. Which inadvertently brings him to the attention of her mouth, which kinds of shoots his melancholy out the window- giving space for his more deprived thoughts.
"Well I have to catch up with Ishida," Rukia says mentioning to the lanky figure waiting by the door where all their classmates are shuffling out.
He wants to make a snide comment, but Tatsuki's words come back to him: "Stop acting like some jealous boyfriend." So he accepts the lunchbox instead. "Have fun," he mumbles.
Rukia gives him an odd look, worries her bottom lip as she eyes him. He gives her a blank stare, hoping she can't read minds. The last thing he needs is for Rukia to realise how far he has fallen.
"Ishida is waiting," he says. He doesn't want her to go.
She glances at Ishida and then back to him. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone," she finally says with a grin.
She's already out the door by the time he's managed to form a scathing retort.
/
Orihime grips her books, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Now that it's just them she no longer has to keep up the farce of slowly packing her stuff. She can still see Tatsuki's conflicted look before she left with their other friends- it practically pleaded for her not to do this. But she's been preparing herself for this all week. If she doesn't do it soon, she probably never will.
For a moment she'd thought Kuchiki-san wouldn't leave, the other girl had looked like she wanted to linger but eventually she'd left with Ishida-kun and Kurosaki-kun was still staring distractedly at the door. She pushed back some of her hair behind her ears before approaching him slowly, all the while mentally urging herself on.
"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime begins nervously. She has to call him again, louder before he turns in her direction. He yelps in surprise not even having sensed he wasn't alone. His sheepish expression as he apologises warms her heart and makes her love him more. She's so full of love for him she has to clasp her hands to her chest in fear that love might burst out.
Its intensity might end up blowing Kurosaki-kun's head off and then what would she do? Could she even heal someone who's lost their head? Her mind wanders a bit after that, various scenarios popping into her head of a headless Kurosaki-kun.
"Inoue?" Kurosaki-kun prompts and she shakes her head to clear her silly thoughts.
"Uhm I wanted to ask you something," she says. Kurosaki-kun simply blinks at her, waiting for her to speak no doubt. "I've been thinking of getting longer bangs but I don't know how that will look on me! Maybe everyone won't even like it and-" she begins her embarrassing rant not even sure where that thought had popped out from.
"Uhm, I don't know really," Ichigo gets in between her rambling. He looks confused and a bit worried.
Probably for her mental state. Orihime gets that look often enough to recognise it. She sucks in air ready to just confess everything in one breath but Kurosaki-kun has began speaking again.
"Inoue you're a girl right?"
She's sweet and unassuming, but even she's a bit flustered by the question. Because thanks to her chest, her gender speaks for itself. Had Kurosaki-kun never really noticed? She wonders even as she nods to the question.
"So you'd know how girls think right?" he adds, his hand fidgeting with a pencil on his desk. "Though calling that midget a girl is probably a bit lenient." He mutters under his breath, but she still hears him.
Orihime doesn't allow her heart to plunge into her stomach when she realises he's talking about Kuchiki-san. Because even though it's meant as an insult there is softness in Kurosaki-kun's eyes only someone who'd been studying his eyes in secret would know.
He looks up at her with that intense look that always leaves her speechless. "Could you help me with something, Inoue?" he asks softly.
She'd probably jump off a cliff if he asked her too. Honestly, sometimes she wishes she didn't love Kurosaki-kun so much. But love is wonderful and she wouldn't wish it away for anything. "Of course," she says.
Kurosaki-kun grins, relaxing into his chair as he picks up a rice cake. "I knew I could count on you, Inoue." He says before biting into it.
It's a praise, a compliment and all she's ever wants him to say. She beams.
Ten minutes later Orihime is not so sure this is a good idea. Yes she is spending alone time with Kurosaki-kun. His shoulder is rubbing against hers and she can smell his cologne to his heart's content, but spending her break on her knees peeking into the knitting class isn't her idea of a first date. Or any date for that matter.
"Can you hear anything?" Kurosaki -kun asks in a whisper.
Orihime shakes her head. Ishida doesn't talk loud in general, and because it's just him and Kuchiki-san there's no need to. Between their hushed tones and Kurosaki-kun's anxious questions she can't hear a thing. So she begins harnessing a skill up to that moment she had no idea she even had- lip reading.
"I think he just asked her to take off her shirt?" she murmurs, furrowing her brows in concentration.
"What?!" Kurosaki-kun demands, almost blowing their cover.
"For measurements," Orihime explains. It's not really surprising that Ishida-kun would want to make their dance outfits himself. A dance she doesn't yet have a partner to because she keeps turning all the guys down. She eyes Kurosaki-kun from the corner of her eye, biting on her lower lip.
"That self righteous-" Kurosaki-kun catches himself, but he continues to scowl at the duo.
From their vantage point it looks like Kuchiki-san is about to take off her shirt, but just then the bell rings. Orihime accepts Kurosaki-kun's helping hand to stand and while she is reeling from the contact his hand is already gone, shoved into his pockets. She feels like she'd failed him somehow.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Kurosaki-kun," she apologises.
"You have nothing to apologises for, Inoue," Ichigo says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eys. He waves before sauntering off to class. And she watches, wishing he'd asked to walk with her.
/
Balancing the two plates in his hands he shoves his door open with his foot. He doesn't get why Rukia just couldn't have come down for dinner or better yet fetched it herself. But Yuzu had fretted over the need of him carrying the food up to her, stressing that Rukia wasn't well. Ichigo had snorted. She'd looked plenty fine skipping around school without a care in the world.
For all intent and purpose acting as if the kiss between them never even happened.
"Oi, I have your dinner," he says because she's invaded his room and taken up camp on his bed. He frowns at the amount of food, doubts that Rukia could eat it all without getting sick.
"I'm not hungry," she grumbles into his pillow.
He glares at her. "I don't care," he says. "I had to carry this up the stairs and down the hallway. If I have to shove it down your throat, you will eat."
She turns to him, face pinched in pain but still managing to look condescending. "I'd like to see you try," she says.
He scowls but places the plates on his desk because he is still spotting a blue eye and doesn't want to add a matching foot print on his face. "What's wrong with you anyways?" he grumbles. He isn't worried- honest.
"You wouldn't understand," Rukia says in that superior tone she uses to belittle him.
How crazy is he to actually like this girl let alone be falling for her? He wonders as he stands over her. "Scoot over," he commands.
She arches an eyebrow at him. "Why?" she asks.
I just really need to be close to you. But he'd swallow his one fist before saying that aloud. "Because it's my bed and if anyone should be sleeping in it- it's me," he says.
Rukia really is sick, because she sighs and scoots to the far side without further argument. She doesn't even seem to have the strength to call him a pervert. He lays down, careful not to come to contact with her skin, but it's futile because his bed was made for two. Even though considering Rukia's size she constitutes roughly a half of one.
It isn't awkward; they've been forced into close quarters before. He tells himself. Even when it clearly is because his senses seem to sing with her scent, the feel of her cool flesh against his and how this is expecting so much from a hormonal teenage boy.
"You're warm," Rukia remarks, poking his arm with a finger. It sounds like a beginning of an insult so he is ready to snap at her but she continues speaking. "A good warm," she adds grabbing his arm.
By the time he realises what she's doing, she's already trapped his arm across her stomach.
"What the hell are you doing, you short freak!" he demands, but he doesn't pull away.
"Shut up, you wouldn't understand," Rukia mumbles, closing her eyes. "Besides you owe me."
"For what?"
"Spying on me," she says. She peers at him from one eye. "Seriously you and Inoue are as inconspicuous as a Hollow in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Not to mention as loud."
He's embarrassed she saw them, but then again she's always complaining about his unbound and stifling spiritual pressure. "Why you little-"
She presses a finger against his lips before he can finish his sentence. "Sleep," she orders.
And reluctantly, with his arm still trapped underneath hers and her hair tickling his chin he does just that. It's the best sleep he's had in ages.
/
*GBH- Grievous Bodily Harm