My reviewers... you're like angels! Thanks very much for last chapter's reviews, I really appreciate that. In any case... ByaHis continues this chapter, but there will be HitsuSen and IchiRuki, who are with AkaRen. So, ya get everything. And, I've been ecstatic about how life has been going lately... so, all is good... Enjoy! :D
I don't own Bleach. However, there is a lot of it in my hair, which is making me look like Matsumoto instead of my usual Momo. Grr.
She's Like the Moon, an xSilverWingsx fanfic
The angry boy, a bit too insane, icing over a secret pain. You know you don't belong.
And everyone I know has got a reason to say, 'Could you put the past away?'
-Third Eye Blind
Hisana Harumei, March 1990
I knitted my fingers together and pulled them apart again, wondering if all would go as well as my mother had said. After all, I hadn't indulged her on Mr. Kuchiki's confession the past afternoon, so her perception of our relationship was somewhat altered. Stop being so paranoid, you wimp. He's not a pervert. And if he were, you would've already kicked his ass from here to Kanto. Realizing that sounded perverted in itself, I huffed out a sigh. It was five-thirty in the morning, and we had just settled into first-class. I had dressed in long pants and a turtleneck just to be safe, but to be frank the outfit was making me sweat a lot. This was the last time I would ever spring for polyester.
Mr. Kuchiki - Byakuya - whoever he was - was seated next to me in a rigor-mortis state, his fingers moving across the keyboard with inhuman speed. There was an undeniable style to the man, I had to give him that, but from time to time I wondered if he had some kind of secret fetish he indulged on the down low, and that kept him calm... hrm. Well, it wasn't likely, but anything was possible. I wondered what we were going to do in Saitama, because even though I had already asked, he couldn't have a meeting all week long. Mbuaybe I would get to eat nachos or something. Nachos twinkled my toes.
And other than that, why had I agreed to go on the trip, anyway? Earlier I had figured it was because I didn't have anything else to do that weekend, but it was something else. Maybe I really did want to spend time with my boss, because he was nice beneath all the inhuman tendencies... or at least it seemed so. If he weren't human I would've already been obliterated by his laser vision. This calmed me down.
About twenty minutes after takeoff, I was given a package of roast peanuts and a glass of champagne. What the frick? Firstly, I am allergic to peanuts and all their subsidiaries. Second, I am not old enough to drink. So I was just given a bunch of useless libations on an already hot, annoying plane ride. And to make matters worse, the damn food cart banged my shoulders every time it went by. So much for first class. I huffed a sigh again and stared at the peanuts. I was pretty hungry, but a gigantic swelling tongue wasn't the desired result so I sucked it up.
After another forty minutes, I was so bored I could probably eat my own hand just for something to do. I had already gnawed my fingernails down to stumps, so that would take a fraction less time than it would have before. It amazed me that I was thinking about the time eating my hand would elapse, so I pulled out my pen and drew a quick bunny on the palm of my hand.
"Is that a train?" said Mr. Kuchiki from nowhere, making me jump.
"It's a rabbit," I said, affronted. How could he mistake a bunny for a train?! There was no likeness whatsoever.
"Ah." He glanced at one of his hands that were somehow prettier than mine. This was the kind of crap that really got on my nerves about him - he was better-looking than me. This man did not deserve the injustice of being a man, a creature so devoid of brains it thinks women have no feelings... well, some of them acknowledge our humanity, Mr. Kuchiki being one of them, so I threw that theory away. "Are you tired?"
"Yes," I grounded out of my throat. Of course I was tired. I didn't usually wake up until at least noon during the day. Mr. Kuchiki lowered his head into a single nod and turned his gaze forward again, much to my relief. The last thing I needed was a staring contest with a man who had confessed attraction to me yesterday.
Maybe I had just dreamed that part. Maybe I had spent the day in bed and had had too much coffee the day before... or something like that. But that was a maybe. And it had seemed very real. He hadn't brought it up again, so maybe the best thing to do was to forget about it. Yes, I said to myself, try to keep your mind off of it. At the moment, keeping my mind off of anything seemed wholly impossible, but it was all I could try to do.
After an eternity we landed in Saitama. It seemed like I was the only one the sun wanted to blaze on. I could feel the sweat all over me. What kind of idiot packs turtlenecks on a vacation? I shook my head, getting up and making my way to the edge of the plane.
The airport was large and very high-tech, littered with LCD screens and technicians every left and right. I suddenly felt a bit vulnerable. "Where's my other bag?" I sensed that one was missing.
"It's already at the hotel," said a very suddenly-there Mr. Kuchiki. After jumping in surprise I sucked down a swallow and nodded, following him outside, where a dark car waited. I shuffled into the backseat and stared at the black wall between the front and back seat. That sucked, I had wanted to say hi to the driver.
"Mr. Kuchiki," I said, "why is there a screen?"
"It's simply for privacy," he said, "let's say, for instance, I was making an important phone call. My chauffeur doesn't need to know everything."
Well, that was obvious. "Oh. Well, what if you needed to ask him something?"
He nodded to a small red button near his door. "I page him."
"Seems like too much trouble to me." I shrugged and looked at the bunny on my hand. Sweat had smudged it into a sort of anvil-like shape. "How long until we're at the hotel?"
Mr. Kuchiki stared at me. "You aren't usually this talkative in the mornings. Is there something on your mind?"
I blinked. You're damn right. "No, everything's fine, sir."
Eventually we made it to the hotel, one of obvious luxury. There were maids everywhere, waitstaff hurrying about to deliver room service and other things people didn't need. I felt constrained with my two meager suitcases and one purse, but they were all I had after all... until a bellboy came and took them off my hands. Then I was just Hisana Harumei, a shrimp standing there with her much-older boss who seemed to fit in for once.
And oddly, I liked being just Hisana. I wasn't 'the Harumei girl' or 'Kuchiki's assistant' now. Now, I was on vacation... and I was getting excited. While Byakuya worked I could go to the beach and lay naked until I was burnt to a crisp. I could run around like an idiot and not have to worry about people thinking of me as poor. Because what poor person was lucky enough to work for Mr. Kuchiki? I knew of only one.
"Hisana," he said, "I'll take you to your room."
And I got my own room. "Thank you!"
We stood in the elevator as it slowly rose up to the tenth floor, where my room was. Mr. Kuchiki didn't seem phased by all of the diamond chandeliers, of course. He was used to this sort of thing... to some extent. According to him, Byakuya had grown up in a strictly middle-class family, but they had very high standards that he eventually met. Well, we had none of those things in my family, yet here I was.
My room was more like a suite. I felt joyful butterflies when I saw my big fluffy bed, much bigger than my own at home. Heck, I slept on the couch most nights. But there was something wrong with my bed's springs - every time I sat on it, it flew up in the air. No lie.
I sat down a little awkwardly. What was I supposed to do now?
Rukia Kuchiki
"Ichigo, your shoe."
"My shoe?"
"Yes."
"What about it?"
"Tie it."
The orange head scowled languidly and bent over to right the offending shoe, prompting a relieved sigh from Rukia. She didn't want Ichigo tripping and injuring himself, possibly others, at Akamori and Renji's. She was contemplating on whether to ring the doorbell or not, because her sister was always a little absentminded and might have forgotten their visit altogether. But somehow it didn't seem likely this time around, so Rukia rang the bell.
Just as Ichigo was straightening up Renji answered the door in a pair of jeans and a black jacket. "Hey, guys," he said placidly, holding the door out for them. "Ichigo, be considerate for once in your damn life and take off your shoes."
Ichigo glared and slipped off the tennis shoes he'd been pestered to tie just moments before.
An already barefoot Rukia found herself wandering about the living room. "Where's Akamori?" she asked, suddenly aware of the lack of noise.
"She went out to buy dinner," Renji said absentmindedly, reading what looked like a bill he'd picked up off the counter. Oddly enough, it didn't seem to phase him as it normally would. "What have you two been doing?"
"Nothing," Rukia said truthfully. She had slept most of the day, and Ichigo... that was unknown. "You?"
"Work," he stated.
"Ah." Rukia sat down at the counter and looked at the fridge, and a picture on it led to another question. "Where's Chihiro?"
"Akamori has her," Renji said, but his tone was a bit irritated. "She takes her everywhere..." he trailed off without much emotion and grabbed an apple from the counter, biting it loudly. Ichigo settled next to Rukia at the counter.
"Does the kid annoy you much yet?"
Renji shook his head. "Not really."
"Tsk," Ichigo clicked, "she will. May there be mercy on your night's sleep." He blinked nostalgically and shook his head. "Little demons."
Renji came back to the conversation. "Just because your sisters were heathens doesn't mean Chihiro is," he declared steadfastly, taking another bite.
Ichigo's face spasmed with anger. "What did you just-"
At that time, a large knock came from the door, shortly before Akamori let herself in. She held a bag of groceries on one arm and a baby carrier in the other, in which lay her sleeping daughter. She dropped the bags on the table, and an apple rolled across the floor.
"Hi, Akamori," Rukia said.
"Hey." Akamori smiled and picked up the apple, brushing it across her sweater. "How are you?" she said, handing the baby carrier to Renji. The redhead seemed a little confused, so he placed it on the table.
"I'm okay," Rukia said truthfully. "I went to the movies earlier."
"What did you see?" her sister was suddenly interested.
"...A horror. I don't remember the name..."
"That bad, huh?" Akamori said knowingly, walking to the kitchen with the groceries. "Well, there isn't really much out right now, besides Twilight, and everyone's seen that already. I get it." She began to unload the various groceries. Rukia watched Ichigo, who was looking at the baby with intent eyes. She felt a little surprised, because from what she'd seen he didn't like children. "So," Akamori said, looking at Renji. "Anything interesting happen at Kuchiki's today?"
"Not really," he said with a shrug, looking morosely at the apple core. "Your dad says that your mom says you need come and visit them soon."
"Really? Well, that was unexpected." She let out a long sigh and continued emptying the bag. "They're making you messenger now?"
"Most likely." He threw the spent apple into the trash and looked at her again. "And what about you? What did you do today?"
"I got ice cream," she said simply.
"Oh." Renji looked at the floor.
"Toshiro doing all right?"
It took Rukia a few minutes to realize Renji wasn't on the receiving end of the conversation anymore. "Oh, he's..." she bit her lip. "He's fine." Truth be told, Toshiro had been acting weird since the first day of school. Not that he wasn't weird before then, but still. "He went with us today."
"That's good for him," Akamori said. "Hey," she said to Ichigo, tone getting a little darker.
The Strawberry looked up. "Yeah?"
"Where are your social skills? Say hi to your future family," she said playfully.
Ichigo went red. "Huh?"
Rukia was also a slow reactant to the statement. She went pink slowly, but then remembered that this was Akamori she was dealing with. "Oh, shut up," she muttered.
Akamori winked at her and crumpled up the empty grocery bag. Rukia noticed the bandages and her hands and remembered the events of a few days ago with a tremor in her stomach, but her sister seemed to have forgotten about it or at the very least put it out of her mind.
Toshiro Hitsugaya
I sighed a little. Today I had been towed around town by Rukia and her annoying 'friend' Ichigo, as well as the obnoxious Inoue girl. My cousin and Ichigo had gone about ten minutes earlier to Renji and Akamori's house. Of course, no one had bothered to invite me.
I cracked my knuckles and ashed my cigarette over the side of the railing on which I was perched. Before I had gotten into... this habit, nothing ever relaxed me. But that thought wasn't condoning it - to smoke at all was terrible, but it was few and far between that I would pass up the chance to do it.
Eventually, the air got too cold. Even for me. I stamped out the cigarette and folded my arms around myself, enveloping any heat I had managed to muster, and slid off the rail to the ground. Luckily the front doors were only a few feet away, glossed with pure ice. One was slightly ajar - how stupid were these people? - so I opened it with my foot and reveled in the heat. I stood in this zone of comfort for a few moments before remembering that my room was upstairs.
For some reason, my legs felt brittle. I rolled my arm around in its socket for a few moments and felt a sharp wave of pain. I think it's time I visited the gym, I thought resignedly. If I didn't keep in shape... well, now I didn't have to. But it was definitely better than being a lard, right? I smiled wryly to myself as I approached the large room. None of the equipment was out - good, because it would only get in my way. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and dropped to the floor.
"So," I said, "What do you want to do for the science project?"
"Mm-hm," Momo said through a mouthful of cookie. "How about… molecules?" she said when she was done.
"Like atoms and all that crap?" I asked, turning on the sink and blasting soap across the food-caked dishes. He had never been an avid eater, but lately he'd been doing it for comfort in place of cigarettes, and it was coming back to haunt me, given the small amount of pudge on my chin. Luckily I'd picked back up on cigarettes about fifteen minutes ago.
"Yep." Momo yawned and ate another cookie.
"Boring. Pick something else."
"Uh… reproduction?" she seemed to be running out of ideas quickly. Sweet as she was, Momo wasn't the brightest bulb in the batch.
"We're not in health class. Next."
"Food processing?"
"Garbage." I dried a Coke-a-Cola glass and slid it into the cabinet.
"Human anatomy?" Momo raised her eyebrows.
"Grey's Anatomy." I tried feebly to make her laugh, and it worked. But Momo sighed in exasperation and put her hands up in defeat.
"I give up," she stated with a sigh, playing with a hole in her sock. "Toshiro, I think you need a vacation."
This irked me. "Why?"
"Your dorm's already filthy, and you're so stressed out."
"I'll manage," I said, starting to skin a potato with one of the small knives I had washed. "Besides, I'm not the only one. Look at your eyes, Momo, you look like a little panda."
Momo went red. "I've been cramming for this stupid project, trying to figure out what we should even do! Kira has no clue, either..." she ended her sentence with a look of utter confusion, alabaster brow crunched into a frown. "He's been kind of tense lately, too."
"Spectacular." I scraped the shavings into the trash and got out a mixing spoon to mash the potato. "Maybe you should be pitching a vacation to him, then. I have a lot on my mind, and leaving is not going to make it disappear."
"Oh," Momo said, at a loss for words. "Well, Senna seems kind of upset, too."
I stared at the potatoes. "About what?"
"Well, she's been that way for a while now. Whitey, whenever I tap her on the shoulder or even call out her name, she jumps like I smacked her! She's sort of paranoid, I think..." Momo stretched out on the couch and pulled another cookie from the plastic packaging.
"Senna's just uneasy," I defended, "Not paranoid." I picked up the spoon and began to pulverize our dinner, my vision blurring a bit in the middle of it all.
"I know. I just wonder about her sometimes. It's sort of like I know, but I know I sort of don't know. You know?"
"I know," I said, smiling inwardly at the number of times she'd used the word 'know'. Momo was so winsome. "By the way, when was the last time you saw her?"
'I invited her to come and eat with us. She should be here any minute," Momo replied nonchalantly.
I felt the spoon drop into the bowl with a muffled thump. "Huh?"
Momo smiled. "Your expression is just so funny, Whitey. It looks like your stomach fell out of your butt."
I swallowed. "Momo, you really shouldn't invite Senna over without telling me first..." my eyes wandered around the room, at the irreversable clutter that had taken staid.
"Relax!" she said. "It'll be fine."
"Holy crap! It's like nuclear sludge!" Akamori said in amazement as she stared at her concoction. The bubbling red and yellow glop smelled like rotten eggs and burnt rubber. "Hey, Renji! You've got to come take a look at this!"
Renji looked up in exasperation. "I told you we should've ordered something. Now the place is going to stink."
Rukia sniffed. "What's it supposed to be? It looks like play dough." And smelled like it to boot.
Akamori turned up her nose. "It's supposed to be lasagna. Now quit rubbing it in. I can't cook. Big deal." She poked at the food with a spatula, and it sizzled angrily at her.
"Orihime can't cook either, if it makes you feel any better," said Ichigo, who was reading a magazine on the couch. "Actually, I really don't know anyone who can cook. Other than my sister."
Rukia saw her sister huff in derision. "Now that's just a little sad that a kid is a better cook than I am. Renji, back me up here."
"...She plays a good game of poker," he said after a moment, staring at Akamori in unison with Chihiro. "And Blackjack too."
"Well, most housewives can't play poker or Blackjack," Rukia said, "but I guess it doesn't matter as much. What are we going to eat now?" as she asked her sister the question, she found herself facing Ichigo. He looked up and she turned away from the mahogany eyes, feeling a little winded after the fact.
"I've got an idea. Let's just eat out somewhere," she said, taking a seat at the counter and clawing her wallet open. "Damn thing... looks like I have enough for that, though. What do you say?" her tone colored with expectance, Akamori looked at Renji.
"It couldn't hurt," he said with a shrug. "Ichigo, what the hell are you reading?"
Ichigo's cheeks puckered slightly. "Some car magazine. Don't you have anything better to read?"
"I thought men liked car magazines," Akamori piped up, raising her eyebrows. "Or are you into more... risque things?"
Rukia cut across her. "Ichigo likes Shakespeare." The fact that Ichigo wasn't into porn magazines seemed to be worth voicing, in front of her sister anyway. Akamori could be very judgmental when she wanted to be.
Renji snorted. "Really?"
"Yeah," Ichigo said, "The man was a genius."
"He seems to be," Akamori said, her hands busy trying to find the wallet she'd had just moments before. "Damn, why can't I ever find anything around here?" she muttered. "It's like stuff's running from me..."
Renji rolled his eyes. "How about this, eh? We go out to eat, you can take Rukia to a movie, and I'll hang out with Ichigo."
"Why the sudden need for separation?" Akamori questioned, and Rukia wondered the same thing.
"The guy needs a drink. Look at him."
"Yes, Renji. Just because someone isn't an alcoholic definitely means that they have a clinical problem."
"Shut up."
Rukia was reminded of herself and Ichigo as she watched them bicker over the stupidest things. Somehow, though, she wanted to put that out of her head, because it would be... alien to think of Ichigo that way. It weirded her out a little. It wasn't like he was ugly - far from it, she had to admit - but Rukia was wondering if maybe she wasn't good looking enough for him. It wasn't like she was Hisana - a pretty woman, sure, but Rukia also looked like Byakuya, who was gorgeous for a man, but thanks to the extreme difference in appearance, the two of them together didn't really make attractive children... except Akamori, the carbon-copy of their father. Rukia wasn't sure who she looked like, because her mother had always seemed more attractive.
"Hey, Rukia. Earth to Rukia." Her sister was waving a hand in front of her face. "You spaced out again."
A droplet of sweat seemed to be lingering on Rukia's head. "Sorry," she murmured, slipping her shoes on and meeting Ichigo's eyes. He stood up and stepped into his own shoes with much ease, making her a little envious again. But tonight, Rukia figured, she might as well have a little fun.
"Rukia, you can't sit in the front. You're what, 4'9''? No way. Back for you," Akamori said with a hint of smirk, sliding into the front seat with a bit more of a flourish than was necessary. "Renji, turn on the radio."
Some overly-wild rock tune blared through the whole car. It sounded a lot like Green Day, but Rukia noticed it didn't phase Chihiro, who still slept peacefully. Well, it's a good thing she's getting used to them early, she thought with a smile. In a way, she was jealous of the little baby who would get to have a lot more fun with her parents.
"So Ichigo," Renji said, turning the radio down for a moment, "Have you scored yet?"a
"I'm not into sports," Ichigo said offhandedly.
Akamori laughed. "He doesn't mean scored a touchdown or anything. He means scored."
Oh, gosh, not this again. Rukia huffed out an angry breath and tried to compose herself, but failed miserably. "Ichigo and I have NOT slept together!" she blurted from some deep, inner corner of her head. Or that's what it seemed like, given everyone's expressions. Renji had his eyebrows raised in the rearview mirror, Akamori looked as if she had been electrocuted, and Ichigo was blinking continuously. Naturally she didn't blush but frowned at them all.
"What?"
"I never said you slept with Ichigo," Renji said, on the verge of laughter, "I was actually talking about Orihime."
Ichigo glared daggers at him. "We're just friends."
"I know that. But friends get it on sometimes, right Akamori?" Renji turned to her.
"True," she complied, opening her previously lost wallet. "But friends are sometimes just friends, too. Like you and me."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Rukia blinked. They were just friends? There was no way that was true, it was absurd. If they were just friends, why was she living with him? It wasn't right for friends to live together... but they had already had a baby together. So that was a definite... "Liars," she murmured.
Her sister turned around. "Liar? I'm telling the truth, Rukes. Me and Renji are friends."
"Well, kind of like domestic friends," Renji said. "We're not really with each other. She's my best friend, more like."
"Basically," Akamori said. "You know, kind of like you and Ichigo. You live together."
"That's a dorm." Rukia shook her head. "It's different. We were assigned to that."
"Think about something, Rukia. If me and Akamori hadn't had Chihiro, do you think we'd be together, really?" Renji inquired, clicking on the turn signal as they entered Karakura Plaza. "I mean, I like her, but..."
"But we've got a lot going on in our lives right now," Akamori finished. "For instance, I'm going to law school some time after I can find a babysitter. I'm good at arguing with people."
"We're not arguing that," remarked Ichigo with a smirk. Rukia smiled at him but looked away, feeling a little awkward given today's other events. "Where are we eating?"
"You guys like Izumi's?" Akamori asked.
Their eyes met again. Izumi's was where they had eaten after his birthday. "Yeah," Rukia said simply, "we like it there." She remembered Ichigo calling her and standing outside the window, as he had dared, with a smile. She wished it was still that warm out.
Oddly enough, the five were seated at the same table Ichigo and Rukia had eaten at almost five months before. The inside smelled the same, of wood polish and cigarettes long burnt out. Typical bar smells. Rukia sat near the window and watched some soft snow fall with a smile. She had missed the snow as much as she had the heat.
Akamori and Renji were dealing with Chihiro, who had decided to start screaming as soon as they had sat down. Apparently she liked riding in the car better, but so did Rukia, whose behind was irritated by the hard wood. She shifted in her seat and tried to get more comfortable, succeeding somewhat but still a little pained.
Eventually, Chihiro had calmed down enough for a waiter to approach the table. Rukia ordered a burger and a soda, because she didn't feel like pigging out. Akamori rebuked her and said she could buy a lobster for all she cared. Rukia got a burger anyway.
Ichigo seemed to be satisfied with broccoli soup, something that made the youngest Kuchiki child gag a little. Broccoli was higher on her black list than eating poop, but Ichigo didn't seem to like it much either. He casually dropped his spoon under the table and drank Pepsi.
Renji ate a sub full of what seemed to be all types of meat imaginable. Well, it wasn't like that wasn't his favorite. He took down six beers.
Akamori ate scallops and appeared to be fully satisfied with that. So full, in fact, she spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom while a somewhat inebriated Renji dealt with Chihiro, who had OD'd on baby food (which seemed impossible).
"Hopefully later tonight everyone'll have more fun," Akamori said optimistically as she sat back down at the table.
Renji sighed and ordered coffee, staring angrily into the cup when it arrived. "Shit," he murmured.
Rukia sighed and tried not to look at her bloated stomach. When she did, she pulled her coat closed immediately. No popcorn for me tonight, she thought smartly.
"So, why is it we have to split up again?" Ichigo said, looking at Rukia and Akamori in turn. "I mean, come on. You want me to sit around and watch Renji play pool all night?"
Renji was still glaring at the coffee. "I hate pool," he said acerbically.
"Well, whatever," Akamori said. "Rukes and I are taking Chihiro with us."
Renji looked up and frowned. "Uh-uh. No way. What if you get drunk?"
"Yeah. Like you're not going to. Deal with it." Akamori put a fifty on the table, but decided to add an extra ten. "Stupid beer," she said, picking up the baby carrier and gesturing for them. "Come on, you guys can keep the car with you. We'll take a Town Car." She gave Ichigo a sideways glance. "Don't let him drive."
Ichigo nodded and turned his eyes on Rukia. "Bye, midget," he said in a casual tone.
"Bye," Rukia felt a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't really been away from Ichigo since Chihiro was born, and that was very alienating. In a way, he had become a constant in her life, a... as much as she hated to admit it, a security blanket. He was her best friend after all, and she should be upset when they were separated, but there was no way best friends felt this upset. Rukia gave him a smile and tried to force her body away, but it wasn't happening. Ichigo's eyebrows were raised, as were Renji's.
"Are you all right?" the orange head asked. "Midget, you look like you're having a coronary."
"I'm fine," Rukia seethed. Akamori had stopped near the door.
"I'm not forcing you out of here, kid. Stay! Gosh." Akamori smiled and rolled her eyes. "Hell," she said, sidling back into her chair, "I'll stay too. We'll hang out some other night, okay?"
It sounded crazy in her head, but Rukia wondered... did Akamori actually know about her security-blanket feeling? Her sister was thick-headed and as stubborn as Toshiro, but she was smart. Too smart to not know about... Rukia shook her head and pushed the word away. There was no way. None. She grounded out a breath and sat back down in her chair across from Ichigo and tried to focus on the baby, who was looking at her with wide blue eyes. Rukia suddenly remembered Hisana and was grateful to Chihiro's genetics for a subject change.
"What are Hisana and Byakuya doing tonight?" she asked.
"Probably each other," Akamori grinned. "Nah, I bet they're just kind of hanging out. Mom's probably asleep, what with her baby and everything. Can you believe she's actually having another one?"
"No, I can't," Rukia said, not even listening. She was focused on Ichigo, who seemed to be interrogating her with his eyes. She didn't have the strength now to tell him to stop looking at her like she usually did, nor did she really feel like it. Since Renji had thought of Ichigo and Orihime as a potential couple, it had gotten her thinking. Ichigo didn't really like Orihime, so it was best not to break the buxom redhead's heart. Keeping him away from her seemed to be a good idea.
"Hey," he said, "You hear about that dance next week?"
"Yes," she said.
"Somehow Toshiro wound up on the planning committee," he said with a smirk.
Rukia blinked, feeling a little disoriented. "No kidding?"
Akamori leaned in. "Toshiro? Doing something that requires pep? Apocalypse, seriously." She sipped her drink. "Anyways, you two going to that dance together or something?"
"I don't think it's a going-with-someone type of dance," Ichigo said, frowning. "And even if it were, why would I take Rukia?"
"Seriously." Rukia felt relieved that they had gone back into the Ichigo-hates-Rukia-and-she-hates-him-back scenario. It was a lot less heavy on her conscience. "Besides, how would we even dance together? I'm too short."
Ichigo scoffed. "Yeah."
Akamori only seemed more interested. Damn her. "Well, I was just wondering. You don't have to get pissy about it."
"I'm not getting pissy," Ichigo said in a clearly pissy mutter, "you just talk too much. You and the rest of your family."
"Your family's screwed up, too. Take a look at Renji. He sleeps in and he drinks like a fish." She looked at Renji, who was using his napkin as a pillow as he napped through the conversation. "It's best if he sleeps it off," she mused.
Rukia's phone buzzed in her pocket. It read KUCHIKI HISANA again. She picked up. "Hello?"
"Rukia, it's good to talk to you again," Hisana said merrily. "How are you?"
"Fine," Rukia said, not entirely sure about that. "You?"
"Morning sickness, but in the evening! That doesn't make any sense," her mother muttered. "Anyway, where are you?"
"I'm at Izumi's with Akamori, Renji, Chihiro... and Ichigo," she said.
"Ichigo's there! Really, well, that's good. I can just--"
"Mom," Rukia cut her off, "I know that, and I don't want to talk about it."
Hisana changed tack at top speed. "How's your sister?"
Rukia swallowed. "Well, she seems fine to me." Akamori was fine on her own and with other people. She didn't see how Hisana could worry so much. "I don't think I should waste up my minutes, Mom, I really..."
"Rukia, what's wrong?" she asked, tone laced with concern.
"Nothing," Rukia said, and she sounded so convincing that for a moment she actually believed herself. "I... am just sleepy, is all. I'll get back to Renji and Akamori's and go to sleep, okay? I'll call you when I wake up."
Hisana was quiet for a while. "...Well, okay, Rukia. I'll wait for your call."
"Where's Father?" she asked, as he had suddenly flitted into her mind.
"He's sitting right here, actually." Hisana's voice faltered for a moment as she looked at her husband. "But he's writing a paper right now. So I'll tell him good night for you."
"Good night, Rukia," said Byakuya.
"Good night," Rukia said, feeling a little shell-shocked by the fact that he'd actually spoken. "Call you in the morning, Mom."
"Sleep sweetly," Hisana said before ending the call. Rukia sat for a moment as the dial tone droned in her ear, expression clouded by idleness. She wasn't sure of what to do now, even if there were no dilemmas to cause that.
A little while after that, Akamori had driven them all home. Rukia and Ichigo had ridden in the back with Chihiro, who wore the same sleeping expression as her father. Rukia clomped up the steps to her sister's apartment, feeling a little punch-drunk and very, very sleepy. She wandered around in front of the door for a few minutes while Akamori unlocked it.
Renji was awake then. "What?"
"Nobody was talking to you," Akamori said with a sigh. "Come on, pineapple, we're going to bed."
"Bed," Renji said contentedly, shuffling down the hallway toward his room and disappearing from sight. Rukia sat down on the smaller couch with happy legs, stretching out and making a noise like a happy cat.
Ichigo sat down on the longer couch. "Have fun?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah," Rukia murmured, burying her head in the pillow.
"What was wrong with you at the restaurant?" he asked, sounding harried. Rukia felt her beryl eyes shoot open.
"I..." she said softly. "I was sleepy. I still am."
"If you're upset, just... I'll be here," he said.
"Thanks, Ichigo," she said with a yawn, smiling at him in spite of herself.
"Sweet dreams, shortie," he said.
Okay, so I am updating at last. I was in a freakishly long rut with this one - a month - and I'm sorry about that. The chapter wasn't that good. But I've really, really got to hurry here. I have like 40 alerts on this story and yet 40 people don't review. Please review this time, it'll make me happy. Thanks for reading.