Sorry for the late update! I was studying for my AP bio exam. Thank the lord it's over.

Some of you pointed out that I referred to Rukia as "Mrs" instead of "Miss." That was a grammar error. Thanks for pointing it out!

Chapter 9

Reality is Almost Always Wrong

"Left… no, left…GOD DAMMIT ICHIGO I SAID LEFT!"

Ichigo grit his teeth and removed his hands from Rukia. Rukia stepped back and crossed her arms. Since Ichigo never really danced, Rukia had decided to start with the "basics," so for the past hour or so, Rukia taught Ichigo common dance moves. Now, they were "waltzing."

"You literally have the IQ of a potato," Rukia said, rubbing her face.

Ichigo curled his lip. "I believe you used the word "literally" wrong."

"Go suck a fuck."

"Oh please enlighten me Rukia," Ichigo sneered. "How exactly does one suck a fuck?"

"Quit being a smart ass," Rukia replied wryly. She walked over to the stereo and turned off the classical music. For a moment, she stood there silently. Ichigo was about to walk over to her when all of a sudden, Rukia kneeled down and groaned with her hands clutching her head.

"Rukia, are you OK?" Ichigo asked.

Rukia got up and glared at Ichigo. "No, I am NOT OK! We've only been practicing for twenty minutes, and I already feel like I'm going to get a migraine."

"Rukia-"

Rukia stomped over to Ichigo and tapped his chest furiously with her finger. "You are not putting in all of your effort. I'm not stupid, Ichigo. I know that you can do better."

Ichigo slapped Rukia's hand away. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I'm a bad dancer and will always be?"

"You refusing to move left is not being a bad dancer," Rukia said. "That's just being uncooperative." In a softer tone, she added, "Ichigo, we made a deal. Can you please at least pretend to care?"

Ichigo hesitated and sighed. "Fine." He placed one hand on Rukia's back while the other held her hand.

"One two three, one two three…" Rukia whispered. Ichigo awkwardly followed Rukia's steps.

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled when he stepped on her foot. Rukia shook her foot for a moment and suddenly pulled away.

"Ichigo, if you really don't want to do this, we can call off the deal," Rukia said. "I really want to participate in the tournament, but I can't dance with someone who truly does not want to."

Dancing was never one of Ichigo's favorite activities, but seeing Rukia's eyes cast down made Ichigo feel a bit guilty. Dancing was Rukia's passion, the one thing that kept her going. And she had even agreed to help Ichigo with Orihime, even though she didn't have to. It was selfish of Ichigo to not try his best.

"Rukia." Ichigo extended his hand and bowed with his head raised. He smirked and said, "May I have this dance?"

Rukia jumped slightly, her eyes wide. She looked as if her mind was still processing his request. After a moment, she smirked and took Ichigo's hand. His fingers curled around her tiny hand.

"You know, for a small person, you have a lot of spirit," Ichigo said as he placed his other hand on her waist.

"I consider myself to be the reincarnate of Napoleon," Rukia quipped. She positioned her hand on his shoulder. "For a big guy, you sure have a tiny brain."

Ichigo and Rukia moved left and then right together. "Actually, the size of the brain does not determine intelligence," Ichigo remarked. "It's the amount of wrinkles."

"Yeah but if you have a tiny brain, you probably won't have as much wrinkles as a larger one," Rukia said. They stepped diagonally. "You lack common sense."

"Still got into med school, though," Ichigo said. "You have to be pretty smart in order to do that."

"Well I graduated from law school," Rukia replied. "You have to be pretty tough in order to do that."

"Ever watched the show House?" Ichigo asked as he stepped back. "You kind of remind me of Dr. House."

Rukia smirked. "If I'm House, then you're the detective House left with a thermometer up his asshole."

"I actually see myself more as Wilson," Ichigo admitted. "I don't know why."

Rukia thought about it for a moment. "I can see you testing on your date's leftovers for cancer."

Ichigo chuckled. "I can't see myself dating Cuddy."

"Everyone always says something like that," Rukia said. "I never thought I was going to end up here, but I did."

"I've actually dealt with patients with psychosis before," Ichigo said. "There was one man who was a priest. I guess he watched House too because he once said, 'You talk to God, you're religious; God talks to you, you're psychotic.' He hung himself that night with a note saying the Lord needed him or something along the lines of that."

"That's morbid," Rukia said as she stepped forward. "My favorite House quote has always been 'Reality is almost always wrong' because it's so true."

Ichigo nodded. "I took a Psych course in college. My teacher showed us a picture of a checkerboard with dark and light gray tiles. There was a cylinder in one corner that cast a shadow over some tiles. A dark gray tile that wasn't in the shadow was labeled "1" and a light gray tile that was in the shadow was labeled "2." My teacher asked us which tile was darker and naturally, we said tile 1. But when she took tile 1 and placed it over tile 2, they turned out to be the same shade."

"How does that work out?"

Ichigo smirked. "Our mind subconsciously compared the tiles to their surroundings. Since tile 1 was surrounded by lighter tiles, our mind thought it was darker than average. And since tile 2 was surrounded by darker squares, our mind thought it was lighter than average."

"No matter how sane you are, your mind will always distort reality," Rukia mused. She stopped and let go of Ichigo. "I think we've practiced enough for today. You didn't step on my foot during our whole conversation, so I guess you're improving."

Ichigo snorted. "You guess?"

Rukia picked up her stereo and began walking out. "Yeah sure." She paused. "We'll try modern tomorrow."

Ichigo jogged up to her. "You think I'm ready for that?"

Rukia glanced up at him and smirked. "I know you're ready for that."

Ichigo practically jumped onto his bed as he clicked his pen and opened a notepad. He spun the ballpoint pen around his thumb as he stared at the blank paper. Ichigo felt as if he were looking at a test.

Ichigo placed the tip of the pen on the paper and wrote with trembling hands, "Dear Orihime."

The pen stopped. The last time Ichigo had seen Orihime, she divorced and completely ignored him. Was it strange for Ichigo to use the word "dear?" After thinking for a moment, Ichigo ripped the paper off the pad and crumpled it and tossed it aside.

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo wrote on a new piece of paper, "Orihime."

Ichigo's mind went blank. He knew what he wanted to say, but had no idea how to word it. What if he offended Orihime, and she called the cops on him for harassment? What if Orihime didn't understand what he was saying? What if she never even bothered to read it?

That last thought hadn't crossed Ichigo's mind until now. Orihime had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Why would she waste time reading a letter from him? Why would she even accept the letter from Rukia? The deal Ichigo made with Rukia suddenly felt so wrong and Ichigo wondered whether he should stick with it or not.

"Dancing allows me to release all of my emotions. If there wasn't a dance studio here, I'd probably be even crazier than I am now." Rukia had never looked and sounded so serene before. Ichigo had actually been taken aback by her response.

"You asked me for a huge favor. I expect something just as big in return. This dance contest is important to me."

Ichigo didn't know how long he sat there, but it must've been a while since Toshiro walked in and said, "Oh hey, Ichigo! Didn't expect you to be here. It's almost dinner time. Wanna go after I wash my hands?"

Ichigo placed the notepad and pen onto the bedside-table. "Yeah sure."

"Just wait thirty seconds," Toshiro said and walked into the bathroom. Ichigo heard the sound of running water.

"I really want to participate in the tournament, but I can't dance with someone who truly does not want to."

Ichigo sat at the edge of his bed and stared down at his shoes. The sound of running water faded away.

"Let's go," Toshiro said. Ichigo got up and only walked a few steps when suddenly, he stopped.

Toshiro turned around and cocked his head. "Uh, Ichigo. I know dinner is great, but why are you smiling like that?"

"Because I'm excited for dinner," Ichigo replied.

Toshiro blinked. "Um, OK?" He turned and the two made their way to the cafeteria.

Even if Orihime doesn't read the letter, Ichigo thought. I should still help Rukia win the dance tournament. I want to help her.

When Ichigo stepped into Urahara's office, he heard the elegant sound of a piano.

"Good afternoon, Ichigoooo!" Urahara sang.

"Please don't say my name like that again," Ichigo said as he took a seat.

Urahara smirked. "Iiichiiigoooo!"

"Stop or I'll skin you."

Urahara leaned back in his chair and placed his arms behind his head. "If you do that, you'll get arrested."

"It's worth it." Ichigo glanced around the room and spotted an iPod on Urahara's desk. "What song are you playing?"

"It's called 'One Summer's Day' by Joe Hisaishi," Urahara replied. "Ever watched the film, Spirited Away? It's from that movie."

"OK," Ichigo said. "Wanna turn it off so we can talk and I can leave?"

"Actually, I was thinking that we just sit back, relax, and enjoy the music," Urahara mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ichigo marched over to Urahara and grabbed the collar of his shirt. His onyx eyes opened immediately, and stared calmly at Ichigo.

"I don't fucking have time to listen to anime soundtracks," Ichigo growled. "And frankly, I really don't want to."

"Music helps heal the soul," Urahara said in a breathy voice.

"Shut the fuck up!" Ichigo snapped. "Your indie, hipster whatever is not amusing at all."

"Tis true though!" Urahara said in an Irish accent. "People often resort to music to help them cope."

"Not me!" Ichigo released Urahara. "If you're not going to help, then I'm just going to leave."

"Then I'll just have Unohana sedate you," Urahara replied in his normal voice. "She's surprisingly strong."

Groaning, Ichigo sat down. He rubbed his face. "Urahara, please. Actually do something so I know I'm not wasting an hour of my life."

Urahara rubbed his chin. "Did something happen between you and Miss Kuchiki? You cursed three times more than you usually do. Is Miss Kuchiki just a bad influence?"

Ichigo shook his head. "I'm fine. Really, I am. Our first practice was actually decent."

"Elaborate."

Ichigo scratched his head. "Well since I never really danced before, Rukia wanted to start with the basics. We stretched, and did some kiddy dances like the 'Electric Slide.' Then we waltzed and I struggled at first, but I eventually got the hang of it."

"And how did you feel after you danced?"

"What do you mean?"

Urahara jotted something down on his notepad. "Dance is a form of art. You're supposed to feel something."

Ichigo rolled his eyes up as he considered Urahara's words. "Well, I felt excited afterwards 'cause I started on my letter to Orihime."

Urahara sighed. "That's not what I meant. Did dancing with Miss Kuchiki evoke any thoughts or emotions? Annoyance, frustration, happiness?"

"I was frustrated at first because I wasn't getting the moves right," Ichigo admitted. "But then I tried again and Rukia and I started talking about the show, House. I was so into the conversation that I forgot I was dancing."

"In other words, you barely felt anything." Urahara scribbled something on his notepad. "Are you still reluctant to dance with Miss Kuchiki?"

Ichigo leaned back into the chair. "I decided that I was willing to help her, whether or not our plans succeed."

Urahara's eyes widened for a second. "I have to admit, I'm surprised. You never struck me as a considerate guy."

"My attitude depends on who you are," Ichigo said.

"If that's the case, then Miss Kuchiki must be important to you," Urahara speculated.

Ichigo shrugged. "To a certain extent, I guess. She is helping me."

"Alright, if you say so," Urahara said in an unconvinced tone. He waved his hand. "You may leave now. Remember to take the Xanax."

Ichigo rose to his feet. "Yeah yeah." As Ichigo headed towards the door, he felt an eery chill shoot down his spine, causing him to freeze. Pushing the feeling away, Ichigo walked out the room, not realizing that Urahara was staring at him without blinking even once the whole time.

That damn piano song was stuck in Ichigo's head. He tried to think about something else, like what to write to Orihime, but the notes amplified in his mind each time.

"Ah, fuck my life," Ichigo said as the song blared in his ears. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

Suddenly, Ichigo heard sneakers screeching against the floor and a loud CRASH. Ichigo whirled around. A large black man was lying against the wall, his body positioned awkwardly. A few nurses surrounded him.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" The man bellowed as the nurses helped him up. He wriggled away from their grip.

"Calm down Mr. Llargo," one of the nurses said.

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN?! THAT AIZEN IS A FUCKING LEECH WHO FUCKING FEEDS ON PEOPLE'S MONEY! I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU CALM DOWN WHEN A BASTARD LIKE HIM ROBS YOU!"

"Mr. Llargo, listen-"

"I WAS PERFECTLY FINE BEFORE I CAME HERE!" Mr. Llargo screamed. "I HAD A TEMPER, YES BUT I WAS FUCKING HEALTHY! THEN THAT COCK SUCKER HAD TO POINT HIS FUCKING FINGER AT ME AND SAY 'OH LOOK AT THAT POOR MAN! HE MUST FUCKING HAVE ANGER MANAGEMENT ISSUES! LET'S LOCK HIM UP LIKE A FUCKING DOG!'" He smacked the nurses away. More nurses ran to help. Ichigo spotted something shiny glisten in one of the reinforcement's hand. It was a syringe.

"Mr. Llargo, please understand that Mr. Aizen means well," A nurse said calmly.

"OH HOW CONVENIENT! BLAME THE CRAZY ONE! FUCK YOU, FUCK THIS PLACE, FUCK EVERYTHING!" Mr. Llargo's beady eyes searched the room and zeroed in on Ichigo.

"RUN AWAY!" He ordered. "RUN AWAY FROM THIS HELL AND NEVER COME BACK! STAY ANY LONGER, AND THAT FUCKER WILL-"

The man never got to finish his sentence because at that moment, a nurse stuck the needle in the man's arm. He collapsed onto the floor.

While the nurses lifted the large man up, the final note of "One Summer's Day" played, and faded off into the void.