Finally, time for the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews… or rather, review… sweatdrop… thank you. Anyway, I feel like uploading this next chap now, just because I'm insanely bored of this writer's hiatus thing everyone seems to have going on. So I'll be the one to break the mold! Well, not really. Just enjoy the chap and be merry.

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"Ichigo, come and eat NOW!" Isshin bellowed, pulling his son out of the relaxing slumber he had just fallen into. "Or go hungry!" as soon as Ichigo heard these words, he realized that he would've preferred starving to actually sitting down to dinner with his father. The disturbed carrot top then turned over onto his stomach and grumbled a string of profanities into his pillow. He could hear Isshin bumbling about in the kitchen and the whining of his sisters, which only made him bury his head further. "ICHIGO KUROSAKI!"

Ichigo punched the bed frame and got to his feet, which felt pressured by the sudden weight. He turned his head to the window and saw that twilight was quickly approaching, the sky erupting with a powerful spectrum of blood red and deep orange. The ginger haired young man sighed and made his way to the door, which stood ajar. With growing irritation he realized that his father had been spying again. Terrific. By the time he reached the kitchen, Ichigo's intent to kill was through the roof.

His father was standing by the stove, juggling four plates. Ichigo smirked silently and sat down in his usual chair, backed up against the window. A large portrait of an extremely beautiful woman looked at him from the wall, with dark blonde hair and naturally red lips. She was smiling, and the name 'Masaki' was written in cursive at the bottom of the picture. Ichigo knitted his brows and looked away from her, as he so often did. He didn't have to look now, because Isshin was currently spooning mashed potatoes onto his son's plate. As much as he hated to admit it, the heat and smell of them made his stomach cry out sharply.

Yuzu and Karin picked up their tiny forks and began to take bites, their small lips curled with instant pleasure. Ichigo glanced at his own plate, which bore much larger portions, and swallowed his own saliva. Maybe he should eat... the redhead picked up his own silverware and shoveled the dinner in haphazardly, alarmed at how quickly he'd given in. This feeling subsided, though, as soon as the piping hot food made its way down his throat.

Isshin smiled good-naturedly, but decided not to bug Ichigo for right now. His boy was scowling, but then again that wasn't new. The older man sat down at his spot, on Yuzu's left side. Ichigo sat directly across the table, and next to him there was an empty chair. It seemed much firmer than the others, and there were a lot less nicks and imperfections in it. It wasn't ever used; Isshin made sure of that.

"Dad," Ichigo said vacantly, not looking up from his dinner. "Do we have packing paper?" he seemed to be off somewhere else in his thoughts.

"Yes," Isshin replied brightly, sending a smile his son's way. But as usual, Ichigo ignored him. "What do you need it for?"

"I've gotta mail something." Ichigo looked at the cuticles on his left hand indignantly, "By overnight, and I don't want it being ruined or stolen..."

"It's in the pantry, under the extra paper towels," Isshin informed him nicely, pointing. "But don't use too much, or you're grounded!"

"Hn. I won't." Ichigo let his fork drop back onto the plate, where it made a loud CLANG noise. Isshin winced. "It's not a very big box." He stood up noiselessly and went back down the hallway, leaving his father and sisters to their dinner. Isshin was met with confused glances from the twins, who both had potatoes smeared around their mouths. The older man cracked a smile at this.

Ichigo pulled out the panties from his beach bag, immediately going red. They were pink. And lacy. And covered with grinning bunnies. Oh my God. He was holding some girl's underwear… whoa. The orange haired guy gulped and picked up the cardboard box he'd bought up at the shipyard this morning and folded the cover down, letting the undergarment drop soundlessly inside. The bunnies were staring Ichigo down, as if he didn't deserve to come in contact with them.

Just as Ichigo was getting ready to tape the box closed, he realized that it was a little rude to send something without writing a letter too… that was common courtesy… Ichigo sighed and pulled some notebook paper from his beech wood desk, and the ballpoint pen he was going to use for the address. He sat the paper on the floor and started with two simple words. Dear Rukia… wait, wouldn't dear sound too affectionate? He'd only met her today, after all. But didn't everyone write dear in their letters? Ichigo didn't know much about letters, so he just left that in there. Besides, he didn't feel like scratching it out either.

--Well, here's your panties.--

Sorry I couldn't get them to you earlier but I didn't have the--

Maybe it's small consolation that I found them for you, Rukia--

I'm sorry the box is so cheap, it's just that-

Ichigo growled and crumpled the piece of paper, throwing it so it bounced off the wall and behind his bed. Why the hell couldn't he write her a letter?! It couldn't be that hard. She was just a girl, a short little girl who wasn't really that threatening. So why was he having so much trouble? Rukia wouldn't care if he screwed up! She just probably wanted her underwear back, right?

Dear Rukia,

Well, here they are. I'm just happy you're not mad I took them. Like I said before, I don't want people being upset, it makes me uncomfortable… so… you like bunnies, do you? They're okay. I like… cats myself. Thanks for not blowing up at me about this. And… if you do… need me to save something of yours again (and I'm not being a smart aleck, I swear), I'll be here.

Sincerely,

Ichigo Kurosaki

Ichigo looked down at his work. Hmm, not bad! He'd put some of that small talk crap in there, along with some nice reassurance. This was working out pretty well for his first letter.

"Ichi-nii," said a little voice. Ichigo looked down to see his little sister Yuzu, gazing over the box with big chestnut eyes. "Your friend… want bunnies? I got lots. Not real bunnies." She gave a little smile, and Ichigo was taken aback. Before he even got close to response, Yuzu toddled straight out of his bedroom. The young man glanced down at his letter, then at the bunnies. The more he thought about it, Rukia sort of reminded him of a bunny.

"Bunnies," Yuzu said suddenly, and Ichigo was shocked. In her arms, she held about fifteen small plush bunnies, and one larger one. In her palm was a pair of tiny earrings, adorned with white pearl rabbits. "You can have them, Ichi-nii. From me." She smiled again, and deposited the load in the box. "For your buddy."

"Thanks, Yuzu," Ichigo said, ruffling the honey blonde hair affectionately. "That was nice of you…" on the inside, he was unsure of what Rukia would think. Would she think he was a psycho for sending all this to her? Would she care at all? He tried to ignore these questions as he put the final piece of tape on the box. "Now go see what Dad's doing for me."

"'Kay," his little sister agreed, and hurried off to her father. Ichigo sighed and followed, realizing that he needed the carpenter paper now. He held the box in one arm and the pen in his hand; feeling unbalanced, Ichigo relieved himself of this burden by dumping it on the kitchen table, where he left it until his return with the roll of paper. It was a soft light blue, and Ichigo had to admit that he sort of liked it, though he would've preferred white. He put the paper under the box and began by wrapping it around. Wow, this wasn't working, it looked like crap. He undid the paper, not realizing that Isshin was silently laughing at his son's blunders.

"Ichigo, let your good old dad do it!" he said suddenly, which prompted a horrified look from Ichigo.

"What the hell—how long have you been watching me?!" Ichigo demanded, pointing an accusing finger his father's way. "You frickin' stalker!" he was trying to make sure this box wasn't see through—whew, he was safe. But damn it, Isshin still wasn't off the hook! "There's something wrong with you. I mean it." Although, he didn't object when his father came over in a flash and expertly wrapped the parcel, finishing up with a triumphant smirk.

"What do you say, Ichigo my son?" he had a sly look on his face.

Ichigo huffed out one of the most offensive phrases that had ever been established before replying. "Uh, thanks." He turned away and grabbed the package, turning away from his father. "Where are the overnight stamps?"

"Don't have any," Isshin said, smiling victoriously. "You've gotta take a trip to the post office."

"Damn you…" Ichigo slammed the door behind him, the frown more pronounced on his face.

&

"Good morning, Hisana," Byakuya said ascetically, coming slowly down the stairs to see his wife curled up on the couch with her book. The slight woman returned his greeting with a tired smile, closing the little book with ghostly fingers. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm well, thank you." She placed the book on a nearby end table, rising silently to her feet. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fairly," Byakuya replied. "The rain distracted me." He looked out the French window to the dew coated grass, which glistened with tidy perfection. "I don't believe I've seen Rukia or Akamori this morning."

"Rukia is at Orihime's," Hisana explained quietly, striding into the kitchen to take the teapot off the stove. A beautiful ceramic teapot, its tempered heat made Hisana like it more. "Akamori… I'm not quite sure where she is right now." Her violet eyes swept over to her husband, who suddenly seemed alert. "She's okay, Byakuya. Don't worry about her." She smiled again, but Byakuya grimaced. Akamori wasn't exactly a perfect young woman. She went to hundreds of parties, and hardly ever came back. At eighteen, she needed to look out for herself more.

"That child," Byakuya said. "She needs to learn about life. What do you suggest, Hisana? Reform classes?" he was totally serious as he looked at his elfin wife. She seemed appalled.

"What? No, she's just going through the freedom of being an adult. It'll pass," she assured him quietly. "Right now, she's probably on her way home."

"I hope you're right," Byakuya mused, staring at the door with an acrid expression. Rukia is only fifteen and she is so much more mature… "And I hope she hasn't engaged herself in any life altering situations."

"Probably not," Hisana assured him. "She may be out with a few friends."

"I'm going to check her room," Byakuya declared suddenly, his eyes on the large glass gun cabinet near the fireplace. He turned away and made his way up the staircase, breathing steadily as he did so. Akamori's door was the farthest from the steps, and he moved faster with each passing moment. With whitish fingers he slowly opened the door.

The sight that met his eyes was atrocious. There was Akamori, all right, but it wasn't only Akamori. A young man had pinned her against the wall, and the two were kissing fervently. He had bright reddish hair up on top of his head, the top of which was covered in tribal tattoo work. Akamori wore a black sweater and a white skirt, whilst everything the boy had on seemed to be made of leather. Byakuya's eyes widened as he recognized this man as his employee, Renji Abarai.

A second later the two broke apart, Akamori gasping for air. Renji had a triumphant look—until he saw Byakuya, that is. Then his brown eyes went slack and he seemed like he was watching a horror film. "Mr.—Mr. Kuchiki!" he gasped, letting a dazed Akamori fall against the wall for support. "Is this about my term reports? I was trying to turn them in yesterday, but Kira held me up again."

"No," Byakuya said, impossibly calm considering the situation. "This is about you fondling her, boy." He shot a downright demonic look at Akamori, who gave him a blank one in return. Renji seemed like he'd been struck by lightening.

"I can live my own life, thank you. I don't need you telling me how," Akamori snapped, her inky black hair curling over her bright orange eyes and giving her an eerie look.

"As long as you live here, you won't bring men into the house, particularly not men who work for me," Byakuya said, cutting daggers with his eyes. "Abarai, consider yourself terminated." He heard a sharp breath from Renji, who looked more horrified by the second.

"That isn't fair," Akamori said. "So you feel like punishing me by firing Renji. Such a telltale action." Byakuya had always been a bit surprised by how alike he and his older daughter were. "But it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Sorry." She blinked once and turned to Renji. "Now, let's go."

"Go?" Byakuya scoffed. "Child, I am your father, and as such I will tell you where you go."

"No, you really won't, Byakuya. I'm eighteen, and no one has custody of me," she stated icily, and began to pile outfits into a small suitcase. "Tell Mom I said bye." She opened the glass door leading out onto her balcony and beckoned for Renji, who followed nervously. Akamori handed her bag to him and then let herself fall, all the while hanging onto the railing. She hitched her feet on the lattice vines.

"When you climb down that lattice, you can forget about ever seeing it again," Byakuya threatened. "And if you do come back, I will kill you." Those words did seem a bit harsh, but he felt deeply disrespected by his daughter and wanted to make her feel the iron-clad tribulations.

"Save the soap opera act, father. I hope you have a nice, boring life." And then she was gone, but Byakuya didn't see her crash into an ill tempered Rukia on the way down.

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I hope you liked this, I really do! It's super short, I apologize  but it will be okay. :D please give me your opinion. Much love from Bella (me)