Happy belated Thanksgiving! I'm grateful I finished this chapter. I noticed Toshiro wasn't getting a lot of screen-time so this chapter will have more focus on him.

Also I've noticed I've written some problematic stuff besides the black man line so if I've offended anyone I apologize. If I write someting problematic again, please don't hesitate to call me out!

Chapter 15

Story of Ice

"I still can't believe you're a father," Ichigo said as he and Toshiro picked up trays. Winter break was over and Ichigo was back at Las Noches. It felt weird waking up to the sound of trumpets and Toshiro anxiously fixing his bed. Although Ichigo had only been gone for a couple of weeks, stepping out of Las Noches seemed like years ago.

"I still can't believe I'm a father," Toshiro admitted as Unohana set two pancakes on his plate. Unohana smiled at Ichigo as she did the same for him. He nodded in return.

"What did you name the baby again?"

"Hyorinmaru." The two men sat down at their usual table. Rangiku and Kenpachi were already there.

"Didn't go with Jiro or Zero?" Ichigo smirked at the memory of Toshiro showing him a picture of a frustrated Momo. "What do you think, Jiro or Zero?"

Carefully slicing his pancakes into fourths, Toshiro answered, "Momo heard from somewhere that a child named Hyorinmaru lost his life trying to save his family from a fire. She wants our son to be brave and selfless like him."

"Ah I see," Ichigo said, feeling hollow. An image of a woman falling to the ground entered Ichigo's mind. A young boy was standing on the gray sidewalk, watching, screaming, unable to do anything.

"Aw poor kid!" Rangiku squealed. "He is a hero!"

"Y-Yeah." Wanting to change the subject, Ichigo turned to Kenpachi. "So Kenpachi, you saw Unohana?"

Kenpachi grinned. As soon as Ichigo had returned to Las Noches, the spiky haired guy had charged at Ichigo, screaming incoherently. Once Ichigo got Kenpachi to calm down, Kenpachi told him how he gave Unohana a Christmas card and how Unohana thanked him and smiled.

"I knew she didn't hate me!" Kenpachi hollered. "Man I owe you big time!"

"You know for a fact the smile was genuine?"

"Ichigo, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I do notice some things. And if there's anything I noticed about Unohana, it's that when she's genuinely happy, her eyes light up and practically smile at you."

"I think she's starting to like me back," Kenpachi said, glancing at Unohana.

"I wouldn't say that yet," Ichigo said carefully. "But your relationship is definitely improving."

Kenpachi smirked. "Just like your relationship with Kuchiki?"

Ichigo nearly choked on a piece of pancake. "HUH?"

Rangiku laughed. "We saw you too coming here together. Did you spend Christmas break together?"

Ichigo flushed. "Y-Yeah. I invited her over, so?"

Kenpachi leaned forward with a lecherous smile on his face. "Did you two sleep together?"

"Of course not!" Ichigo snapped. "Rukia slept in the guest room!"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Rangiku muttered. "For a doctor, you can be pretty dense."

"I am not," Ichigo replied indignantly. He looked down at his plate. Why were Kenpachi and Rangiku so interested in his relationship with Rukia? Even Toshiro, who didn't like sticking his nose into anyone's business, had been listening attentively.

Where is Rukia anyway? Ichigo looked over at the table she usually sat at. Empty. Ichigo scanned the room and saw the raven haired woman walking to the table with a tray of food.

"Hey Rukia!" Ichigo called out. Rukia turned at the sound of her name and raised an eyebrow when she saw Ichigo. "Come sit with us!"

Kenpachi, Rangiku, and Toshiro looked shocked. "What are you doing?" Rangiku hissed.

Ignoring her, Ichigo pulled up a chair from behind him. "You can sit here!"

Rukia stood there, seemingly debating whether or not to accept Ichigo's offer. After a moment, she shrugged and walked over.

"Morning, Rukia!" Ichigo said as Rukia took her seat.

"Morning," she mumbled. She nodded at everyone else. They were all staring at her cautiously. Ichigo felt a stab of disappointment. He had hoped by now that Kenpachi, Toshiro and Rangiku had stopped viewing Rukia as a bomb ready to go off.

We need to change that. Ichigo glanced over at Rukia's plate. "That's a lot of food, Rukia. Didn't eat enough over the break?"

Rukia rolled her eyes. "You're one to talk. You were eating so much, I'd expected you to blow up like Harry Potter's aunt."

"She didn't blow up because she was eating too much," Ichigo pointed out. "She just pissed Harry off. Did you even read the books?"

"Of course I read the books dumb ass," Rukia retorted. "Otherwise I wouldn't know that she blew up in the first place!"

Before Ichigo could respond, Rangiku said, "Wow, is this actually what you guys talk about when you're alone?"

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Only when Ichigo is being stupid. But that happens a lot, so I suppose, yes; this is what our conversations are often like."

"I can relate to that," Toshiro said. "Ichigo and I debate about books all the time. While I respect other people's opinions, some opinions are just so wrong."

Ichigo's jaw dropped while Rukia snickered. "T-Toshiro! My interpretations are never that bad. And I'm right about Harry's aunt!"

"Oh yeah, you are," Toshiro said. He quickly added, "Sorry, Kuchiki."

Rukia smiled. "It's fine. And by the way, you can call me 'Rukia.'"

"Oh!" Toshiro looked surprised and relieved. He straightened himself. "I don't think we've ever formally met. I'm Hitsugaya, Toshiro." He extended his hand.

"Kuchiki, Rukia." Rukia shook his hand.

"Zaraki, Kenpachi!" Kenpachi grabbed Rukia's hand and shook it vigorously. "Is it true that Chizuru tried to grope you once, and you smacked her so hard that she got a concussion?"

"Actually, I kicked her," Rukia said. "She didn't get a concussion, but she did need to go the hospital."

Kenpachi grinned. "We're going to be friends, I know it."

Ichigo stared at the whole scene, absolutely baffled, as Rangiku extended her hand also. "Matsumoto, Rangiku. You may have seen me on TV."

Rukia shook her hand. "Yeah, I have. Victoria's Secret model, huh?" Somehow, her tone was different. She seemed a bit tense, and her eyes were scanning Rangiku's face as if trying to look for any flaws. Rangiku didn't seem to notice anything and after a moment, Rukia relaxed and smiled.

Rangiku beamed. "Yep! Did you see me when I was dressed as the devil?"

When Rukia shook her head, Rangiku suddenly lifted up her shirt, revealing a lacy red bra. "This is the bra I wore! Isn't it cute?"

As Rukia and Kenpachi laughed, Ichigo and Toshiro's faces turned as red as the bra.

"Rangiku, pull down your shirt right now!" Toshiro demanded.

Rangiku laughed, but did as he said. "You're no fun."

"So Rukia," Kenpachi said. "If you don't mind me asking, did you actually fuck all your colleagues?"

"All thirteen of them," Rukia answered without skipping a beat.

"Were there women?"

"Yep."

"Did you give them lap dances?"

"Yep. We did a lot of foreplay too."

"Can you guys talk about this somewhere else?" Toshiro said, looking very embarrassed.

"Come on Toshiro," Kenpachi teased. "It's not like you've never had sex before."

"That's different! Momo and I are married!"

"Yeah yeah whatever," Kenpachi said. "What's girl on girl sex like?"

"I agree with Toshiro," Ichigo said. "Move this conversation somewhere else." Hearing Kenpachi question Rukia about her sex life was not only awkward, but also reminded Ichigo of his first conversation with Rukia.

"Jesus Christ," Ichigo muttered under his breath. "Have you always been like that?"

Rukia's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like a-"

"A SLUT?! You think I'm a slut now, don't you!?"

"That's not what I meant!" Ichigo protested. "You're just different!"

Rukia's face turned red. "DIFFERENT!? And you're not!? Oh, I get it! To you, I'm not just a slut, I'm a CRAZY slut!" As if to prove her point, Rukia tossed her head back. "AHAHAHAHA!"

Rukia shot up and swiped her arm across the table. Their plates shattered as the trays fell to the floor.

"FUCK YOU!"

I hurt Rukia. Ichigo thought. I hurt Rukia, and hope I never hurt her again. I think I'd rather die.

"Et tu, Ichigo?" Kenpachi whined.

Rukia smiled. "Actually, I think we shouldn't talk about this here. If you really want to know, maybe you can drop by my room later?"

Everyone, especially Kenpachi, was surprised at Rukia's offer. "Yeah, sure," Kenpachi said. "Maybe I can come by after you and Ichigo have finished diddling each other."

Ichigo shot up from his chair. It was the last straw. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT RUKIA AND I ARE NOT HAVING SEX WITH EACH OTHER?!"

The entire cafeteria had suddenly grown quiet. Everyone was staring at Ichigo. Rukia casually sipped her milk.

Ichigo flushed. Why did he have to shout? "Um, hey guys. Pretend you didn't hear that." He slowly sank back into his chair. He could sense everyone whispering to each other.

"Good job," Rukia said as Kenpachi began cackling. "Now everyone's going to be talking for days."

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled. His cheeks were still burning.

"It's fine. I'm used to people talking about me." Rukia tossed her hair back and gave Ichigo a sassy smile, though he knew it was just a facade.

Toshiro coughed. "Well, this morning has been sufficiently awkward. Breakfast is ending soon, I'm gonna head back to my room." He picked up his empty tray and walked away.

"I should be going too," Kenpachi said. "I think I'll stop by your room tomorrow night, Rukia. See ya!"

Ichigo turned to Rukia, who was also getting up. "See you in the gym today?"

"I'll be at the ellipticals," Rukia said and walked off. She was wearing skinny jeans, and Ichigo couldn't help but stare at Rukia's bottom.

"And to think that I used to be scared of her." Ichigo turned to Rangiku. The strawberry blonde model was staring at Rukia with a small smile.

Ichigo leaned back in his chair as he glanced back at Rukia. She had just walked out of the cafeteria and turned, completely disappearing from Ichigo's sight.

"Everyone was."

"Except you," Rangiku pointed out. "You kept trying to tell us to give her a chance." She cocked her head. "You're a kind man, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo's cheeks grew warm. He scratched his head. "I'm not that nice."

Rangiku giggled. "You don't have to be modest." The smile suddenly faded from her face. In a quiet voice, she said, "You know, I've been thinking about what you said to me a lot."

Ichigo stared at Rangiku as he recalled tears streaming down her face like silver rivers, her voice shaking as she told him about Gin. "Yes, and…?"

Instead of answering, Rangiku gave Ichigo a fond smile, got up, and left.

"As I've said before, we did good at the Christmas Spectacular, but there's still room for improvement," Rukia said. "And there are more moves we have to incorporate into the routine."

"Like that tap dance?" Ichigo asked with a wince.

"Yes, we're going to tap dance," Rukia said. "And I don't want to hear a single complaint, capiche?"

"Capiche," Ichigo muttered.

Rukia smirked. "Good. Now, let's begin. I'll let you know where we're inserting new moves."

The first song played and Ichigo and Rukia shuffled and twirled together, the same way they did at the Christmas Spectacular. The techniques, which Ichigo initially found difficult, felt much easier now, as if he were moving on instinct. Though Rukia's lips were a straight line, her violet eyes were bright, and Ichigo knew that Rukia was proud of his improvement.

"Tap dance, now!" Rukia commanded. Picturing Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor shuffling on the desk, Ichigo shuffled and windmilled his arms. For some reason, Ichigo couldn't help but glance at Rukia. Rukia met his gaze and a smile tugged at Ichigo's lips.

Turning to each other, Ichigo and Rukia took each others hands and waltzed. He spun Rukia once and with one hand placed firmly on her back, dipped Rukia down. Rukia tilted her head back, and Ichigo could see the arch of her neck.

Ichigo slowly lifted Rukia back up. Her eyes met Ichigo's and suddenly, he couldn't move. Rukia's face was inches away from his, and her violet eyes seemed to pierce right through him like ice. It was as if Rukia was casting an unbreakable spell on Ichigo; a spell in which Ichigo was the slave, and Rukia was his master.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, Rukia looked away.

"I have to go now," she mumbled and pulled away from Ichigo. She awkwardly gathered her belongings and took off.

As soon as Ichigo opened Urahara's door, the crazy therapist slammed into Ichigo and wrapped his arms around him.

"I've missed you so much, Ichigo, my son!" Urahara shrieked.

"Fucking let go of me!" Ichigo snapped and shoved Urahara off. Urahara laughed as he regained his balance and brushed his shirt.

"So tell me, Ichigo," Urahara said as he sat down in his leather chair. He gestured for Ichigo to take a seat. "How was your Christmas?"

Despite his annoyance, Ichigo plopped onto the chair and smiled. "It was nice. Rukia came to my place."

"Ah yes, I heard from Miss Unohana." Urahara smirked. "It seems like your relationship with her has improved greatly. By the way, nice job at the Christmas Spectacular."

"Thanks," Ichigo replied faintly. His mind was stuck on Urahara's statement: It seems like your relationship with her has improved greatly.

Jesus Christ, why do people keep commenting on our relationship?

As if reading his mind, Urahara answered, "Because your relationship with Miss Kuchiki has romantic potential, and everyone loves a good romance."

"Huh?"

Pretending that he hadn't said anything, Urahara said, "What have you been thinking recently? Any dark thoughts you've been having? Prophetic dreams I should know about?"

Ichigo leaned back in his chair and reflected on the past few months: Orihime and Grimmjow…standing in front of Las Noches…meeting Rukia…Kenpachi chasing after Unohana…the earthquake…Rangiku's crying face…debating with Toshiro…dancing with Rukia at the Christmas Spectacular…ice skating with Rukia…

These past few months had been a roller coaster, so many ups and downs that Ichigo forgot what a normal life felt like. Or maybe "normal" was a relative term, because as far as Ichigo was concerned, this was "normal" for him. Waking up to Toshiro's grumbling as he fixed his bed, listening to Kenpachi ramble about Unohana like a teenage girl with a crush, watching the flame in Rangiku's eyes die out as she remembered something painful, sitting in front of Urahara with a notepad in his hand, and dancing with Rukia with her violet orbs twinkling at him, was "normal" to him. Pre-Las Noches Ichigo would've cringed at the thought but now, Ichigo didn't care. Of course, it would be great to permanently check out of Las Noches, but Ichigo was grateful to have met everyone, even Urahara.

"I'm thinking of writing a book," Ichigo finally said. "A book about my experience here at Las Noches."

Urahara's eyes widened. "A book? That's certainly ambitious of you, especially with the dance tournament coming up."

"I know," Ichigo said. "But this is something I really want to do. When most people think of mental institutions, they think of dark towers that contain psychopaths that need to be chained. Honestly, I was expecting everyone here to be insane when I first came. But I've met some of the best people here, and I want others to realize that every patient in Las Noches, in any institution, is human too. Healthy or not, our voices need to be heard."

"Hey, Ichigo!" Ichigo looked up from his laptop as Toshiro entered the room. The silver haired man took off his shoes and gently placed them in front of his bed. "Whatcha' doing?"

Ichigo glanced back at his laptop screen. After his session with Urahara, Ichigo had ran to his room and immediately opened up Microsoft Word. He so ready to start the book, but as soon as he typed "Chapter 1," Ichigo found himself suffering from writer's block. It had been nearly half an hour already, and still the document contained only that phrase: Chapter 1.

"Um, nothing," Ichigo lied.

Toshiro raised an eyebrow. "Right. Anyways, I have to tell you what happened just now. I was walking down the hall and guess who I saw? Kenpachi and Unohana. They were talking to each other. I couldn't hear what exactly they were saying, but Unohana seemed, understandably, pissed and Kenpachi looked so sad in a shocked sort of way…"

Ichigo barely processed Toshiro's words. They were flying through one ear and out through the other because watching Toshiro go on and on gave Ichigo an idea.

"Hey, Toshiro," Ichigo interrupted. "I need to ask you something."

Toshiro sniffed. "Rude, Ichigo. I wasn't finished."

"You can tell me later," Ichigo said. "What I need to ask you is extremely important."

Toshiro sighed and sat on his bed. "What is it?"

"You asked before what I was doing," Ichigo said. "Well, I've decided to write a book about my experience here."

Toshiro's jaw dropped and he made a noise that was a mix between a chuckle and a gasp. "A book? Oh my god Ichigo, that's great! Do you need my help? I've always been told I was a talented writer."

"I do kind of need your help," Ichigo admitted. "But right now, I don't need you to tell me how to start. As I said before, I'm going to write about my experience here. That means I'm going to have to write about you."

Toshiro hesitated. "You…want to know my story, don't you?"

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable-"

"No, it's fine." Toshiro smiled. "I'm usually uncomfortable opening up to others, but you're my friend, Ichigo. Now, listen closely as I take you back to the past."

Toshiro looked up at the ceiling and said quietly, "I…never had friends growing up. My spiky white hair attracted a lot of negative attention. My cold disposition intimidated everyone. My mom had died from cancer, while my father was just never around. I was raised by my grandmother, who I guess was my best friend. I loved her and she loved me, but it was never enough. I wanted to fit in, become friends with people my age. I hated the look everyone always gave me. The only way of changing everyone's opinion of me, I thought, was to excel in everything. By getting good grades, I hoped I would destroy the thought that I would join the Yakuza or whatever. By being a star athlete, I hoped to win admiration from others. So I worked. A lot. I worked so hard in everything I did, made sure that everything was perfect and as I grew older, my desire for everything to be perfect grew stronger and stronger. Even after getting admitted to a top university, even after becoming manager of a company, I kept fussing over every single little detail. It was an obsession." Toshiro closed his eyes, as if the memory was paining him. "Momo realized that I needed help after I spent two hours wiping the table. I was in denial at first, but I eventually realized that there was something wrong with me. So I checked myself in here. It was difficult at first, but I later befriended Rangiku and Kenpachi and now, I'm slowly recovering." Toshiro opened his eyes and gave Ichigo a small smile. "That's my story."

Ichigo nodded, unsure whether to return the smile or not. After a moment, he decided to return it. "Wow, Toshiro. That's some story. Thank you for sharing it with me."

Toshiro nodded. "No problem. If you need any help with your book, don't hesitate to ask. What's the title, by the way?"

"Thanks, and honestly, I haven't thought of a title yet. I'll come up with one later," Ichigo said. He looked back at his laptop and smiled. He knew what to write now.

Ichigo replaced the "Chapter 1" with "Story of Ice." As he wrote a brief introduction to Toshiro, he thought about the story he just heard.

"My spiky white hair attracted a lot of negative attention." That sentence had struck a cord in Ichigo, because his spiky orange hair had gotten him looks as a child. A lot of kids had teased him for it, even tried to beat him up.

"With hair like that, you look like you belong in the Yakuza," some dumb older kid had told him before proceeding to kicking Ichigo in the stomach. It was utterly ridiculous to Ichigo now, but at that time, it brought tears to his eyes. No one could cheer him up, except for one person…

Ichigo shook his head vigorously. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Now was the time to focus on his book, the dance tournament, and move on with life.