II. Glow
.
.
.
They agreed to put the plan in motion as soon as possible, so the plan that afternoon was for the pair to go to his friend's party and introduce Rukia to Dr. Kurosaki's social circle.
Rukia blinked. Seeing him in a setting outside the dingy interrogation room surprised her. The full heat of the midday sun was already seething behind him as he stood in front of her, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Dressed casually in blue jeans and white polo shirt, he stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the café, right in front of the counter.
The oppressive nature of the station had a way of making everyone seem smaller and paler. It was amazing what open space and good coffee could do to a man, as though being in an interrogation room had zapped away the liveliness of the man and now that he was out of its treacherous clutches, he was whole again.
The sun behind him made his hair lighter and his features softer. This Ichigo Kurosaki was very different from the man she had first met. Here, he was tall, tan and every part of him gleamed with the breath of life. His eyes were warm and honey brown, his skin tone a healthy shade of light bronze with his lips curved in a shy smile.
"Are those flowers for me?"
With that, he snapped out of whatever reverie he had been in and handed her a bouquet of red roses over the elegantly crafted oak counter. Cliché, but she plastered on a fake smile, they were on a pretend date after all and he was nice enough to gift her with flowers.
It was the thought that counted.
She made him sit on a chair while she made a dash for the back room, murmuring something about finding a vase for the flowers and he told her to take her time.
.
The café was quaint and its interiors were every bit as nondescript as the neighbourhood, but Ichigo knew better. From what he had gathered yesterday, Miss Kuch— Ichigo bit his tongue, correcting himself mentally, Rukia— his new fake girlfriend used to be a cop and from Detective Abarai's slip of the tongue, she was probably his partner at some point.
Before something big happened, driving a wedge between the two and made her quit the force.
A minute later, Rukia was back with a blue-white possibly ceramic vase and she neatly arranged the bouquet into its place. When she was finally satisfied with the outcome, she walked up to him and only then did he notice that the woman had on a very pretty sleeveless white dress with lace details decorating the hems and even wore a pair of bright red stilettos.
He supposed he should feel flattered.
"Go change," he told her, grimacing.
"Excuse me?"
Rukia's eyes narrowed. She glanced down at the dress and the heels she had on. Who the hell did he think he is?
The Fashion Police?
Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, tousling his messy locks and even managed to look annoyed. Whatever good impression Rukia had of him had upped and left at that. He wasn't even wearing the stilettos. She was! Her toes were the ones getting pinched so why was he the one looking so annoyed?
The pain associated made them literally to die for!
"We're going to Grimmjow's get-together," Ichigo said, "His parties tend to get a little… physical. You can bet whatever he's planned is going to be very uncomfortable for you in those shoes."
Normally, Rukia was sensible and reasonable. She understood the need to dress accordingly and if this 'date' was going to be a physical/outdoor-heavy one, she could be persuaded to adapt and change. But the way Ichigo spoke to her- maybe it was the tone he used; it rubbed her the wrong way.
She was not going to change and he was in no position to complain or make demands! She put her foot down- figuratively and literally speaking, and glared at him.
"Well, too bad because I insist and if we continue this debate, we are going to be late!"
She gritted and with a barely hidden look of contempt, marched right past him; stomping hard on his foot on the way out of the café by 'accident' of course.
He yowled in pain. Cursing inwardly, he grumbled, "well don't say I didn't warn you."
Her response to that was to slam the car door shut.
.
They were late.
Naturally.
Because the idiot took the left turn instead of the right like she told him to, but no; he insisted on the right because apparently he wasn't as stupid as someone who would wear stilettos to whatever Grimmjow planned for a party.
But that wasn't even the worse part. It turns out his friend's house is actually 7,000 square feet of a monster of a mansion, complete with its own walled courtyard and garden, with an indoor swimming pool and lounge bar as well.
Funny how he had just conveniently forgot to mention that little detail throughout their journey.
Really just who was the bigger idiot now?
She bristled and by the time they had finally arrived, she could not even wait to get out from the car. Prolonged exposure in such cramped space to that impossible man was draining. She should have just listened to Renji and let someone else suffer in the role instead!
"Well look what the cat dragged in!"
Rukia was jolted out of her murderous thoughts. Whirling around with her fake persona and cover repeated like a mantra in her head, she saw a man with wild and strangely dyed electric blue hair. His black leather biker vest was left unzipped and exposed the noticeable inked '6' tattoo on the right side of his chest. The smile he had was more of a smirk, reminding her of Cheshire grins and sharp claws digging into tender flesh when you least expect it.
This man was going to be trouble.
Before she could even blink, he had Ichigo in a chokehold. "Took you long enough! I was beginning to think that you were too scared to come!"
Rukia's instincts jumped into action before she was even aware of what she was doing. "Leave him alone, you big oaf!" she called out, causing both men to turn around and look at her in surprise.
Almost immediately Grimmjow loosened his grip and Ichigo looked sheepish when he was asked about the identity of the newcomer.
"Grimmjow meet Rukia, my... girlfriend," he said, a hand rubbing absentmindedly at his nape. It was nervous habit he had, a tell-tale sign that he was lying. Rukia could only pray that his friend did not know about the habit or perhaps, was just smart enough not to blurt it out loud now.
It would have made things complicated.
"A girlfriend? As in YOUR girlfriend?"
Ichigo growled as he folded his arms- a defensive posture to take but Rukia supposed that it was still better than his nervous tick.
"That's what I said. What's wrong with me having a girlfriend?"
"Just a bit surprised, you never mentioned that you were seeing anyone—" Grimmjow grinned— "how did you two meet?"
"Well we- that is to say, she—"
That idiot! He was going to blow their cover!
Rukia could feel her eyebrow twitching as she scrambled to do damage control. She cleared her throat loudly. "The bromance between you two is making me worry," she smirked, "keep this up and I might actually start to think of more inventive—" she grinned suggestively— "ways to stop my boyfriend from ditching me for you."
Hearing this, Ichigo's face had burned into a furious shade of red while Grimmjow merely guffawed while he shook Rukia's hand and introduced himself.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, at your service," he announced with a flamboyant bow and made a show of kissing Rukia's hand. "Long-time friend of Strawberry over there, saved his ass more times than I'd care to remember."
"DID NOT!"
Both Grimmjow and Rukia decided to ignore the outburst.
"Though I assure you that you won't need to worry about any competition on my end—" Grimmjow flexed his fingers and the single white gold band in his finger caught the sun's glare, winking at her— "I'm off the market. Been off for a couple of years now. I'm surprised Ichigo has not mentioned me to you at all," he finished rather casually, but Rukia knew all-too-well of the suspicion lingering in his eyes.
This clever man suspected something. She was right, as per usual. He was definitely not going to be easy to convince. She was going to have to double down on her efforts to sell their story.
She played dumb, saccharine smile and bubbly persona fully in view.
"I'm Rukia. Nice to meet you too," she smiled and shrugged, "I guess he likes to keep that air of mystery about him," she sighed forlornly, "at some point, I wondered if he was cheating on me. He never seemed to have the time for me or for us to go on fun dates, that is until I found out that he's a doctor, which would have explained why he's always so busy. When I told him I wanted to break up, he broke down in front of me, getting down on one knee and started proclaiming his love for me! It was love at first sight for him and that he was trying to keep his distance because he was afraid that I would find him too boring! That idiot!"
Rukia gave Ichigo an exaggerated pout and he had to resist the urge to shudder at her dramatic theatrics. Was that a natural blush on her cheeks? She blushes on command?!
Ichigo turned his head deliberately, avoiding the shit-eating grin Grimmjow was giving him, egging her on to tell him more about Ichigo's crazy and dramatic displays of love. Ichigo resisted the urge to groan. The blue-haired bastard was never going to let him live it down!
Rukia was wasted as a cop. The woman belonged on the stage for the sort of acting performance she was giving. If he didn't know any better, he would have believed her; believed that he was exactly the sort of person he was in her descriptions- shy, a little absent-minded and hopelessly infatuated with her.
Grimmjow laughed. Thumping his friend loudly on the back, he said to Ichigo, "where did you find this woman? I like her!"
Ichigo frowned and grumbled, "I didn't. She found me."
The blue-haired man snickered and turned his back to the pair to lead the way, navigating through the vast corridors and tastefully decorated rooms, leading to the lounge bar and games room, where the get-together was already in full-swing.
"Unfortunately," Ichigo added under his breath, once Grimmjow turned his back.
Rukia's sharp elbow jab caught him right in the side and he winced at that.
"Bitch," he mouthed.
She merely rolled her eyes and walked on ahead.
"Are you coming, Strawberry?" teased the woman.
He snarled. Damn that stupid Grimmjow and his big mouth!
.
The lounge bar was something straight out of the movies. The polished marble counter with a dozen-or-so cushioned bar stool dominated the room, the centre-piece of the establishment seemed to be the equally well-dressed bartender working behind the bar.
Smartly dressed and respectable-looking, the old gentleman looked to be in his late sixties, but age did not seem to dull his edge as he was at the moment, mixing a fairly complicated looking drink for one of the ladies.
An antiquated jukebox was playing a jazz tune by the side and the rows of liqueur behind the counter were fully on display in their individual glass crystal cabinets. The bar seemed to have everything in stock, be it a simple can of Budweiser or maybe even a whole bottle of unopened vintage French champagne stashed somewhere.
It all painted a very flattering picture of their host. This was money and hospitality all rolled into one.
Speaking of their host, the man was currently greeting a few friends busy at the pool table. Here, Rukia suppressed the urge to query and mock; just how was it that Ichigo Kurosaki's friends all seemed so glamorously gorgeous and tall, as though they just stepped out of a real-life fashion magazine photo-shoot?
She supposed the right thing to do would have been to push forward the introduction and play nice with the guests.
But the orange-head had not even bothered to greet any of the party-goers and opted instead to wander straight to the comforts of the bar.
Not wanting to seem too pushy or forward, Rukia could only play along and follow suit. The introductions would have to wait until the orange-haired idiot decided to be an adult and pulled his head out from his ass.
Rukia was nothing if not patient.
Ichigo?
Not that much, she thought wryly as she watched the doctor scowled fiercely at the bartender who seemed determined to ignore his presence and was instead chatting up the two lovely women seated beside the young man.
She slipped into the seat next to him silently. Having finally a drink in his hand, she watched curiously as he set a grim look between his eyes and said, "I didn't peg you for a hard drinker."
The man snorted, as though she should know better.
"That's because I'm not. But this is Grimmjow's party. They have a horrible way of going wrong if left unsupervised," he replied before taking another sip from the glass, "If you knew what sort of crackpot idea he has planned for fun later, you would want one as well."
"Thanks, but no thanks. But I don't drink while I'm on d-"
She stopped herself short before she made a fool of herself. Some old habits, she frowned; are as resistant and twice as despicable as cockroaches.
"On second thought, I'll have a Cosmopolitan," she said and motioned for the bartender.
The drink was presented to her in mere minutes and Ichigo knotted his eyebrows together at the sight of the pink concoction and wrinkled his nose at the equally pink umbrella.
"You don't look like a Cosmo girl," he commented.
She rolled her eyes, "That's because I'm not. It's part of my image. The cover story- remember?" she told him coolly, eyes focused on the gaggle of giggling women surrounding their host.
Tall and willowy, they were fluttering their eyelashes coyly at the man, throwing him suggestive looks and brushing up against him for no apparent reason, not that he minded much.
He was too embroiled in a conversation with another blonde man; an argument of sorts over a game of snooker.
"Quite the playboy, isn't he?" she asked flippantly.
Her drinking partner only smirked and said, "Before he was married."
He swivelled his chair to face the direction of the billiard table and said, "Don't be fooled by his appearance." He took another sip of whisky, "That man may look devious and he is most certifiably a nutcase in most cases, but he's whipped. Trails after his wife like a lovelorn puppy."
Rukia remained sceptical. "If you say so."
She ended the conversation at that, she did not want to get into an argument with Ichigo in public, much less over someone else's matrimonial affairs.
She was just about to ask him if he was ever going to bother introducing her to any of the guests at the party when there was a rumble over the sound system and she heard Grimmjow's voice.
"Let's play DODGEBALL!" hollered her host manically with a wild grin on his face and next to her, she heard Ichigo mumble a prayer of sorts with death threats to a blue-haired lunatic included.
She scoffed.
It was just dodgeball; really the man was making a mountain out of a molehill.
What could possibly go wrong?
.
Rukia hated being wrong.
She also hated running and dodging balls in four-inch-high stilettos.
She especially hated being forced to play dodgeball against a maniac like Grimmjow!
So yes, she amended her statement. Ichigo Kurosaki has friends that looked as though they just emerged from the cover of a fashion magazine photo-shoot, but behaved as though they just escaped from a mental asylum for the criminally insane!
Grimmjow's version of dodgeball did not go by the normal rules. It would have been far too boring, argued the man. Basically, couples were supposed to run like mad around the fenced courtyard while avoiding the balls being thrown from every single direction by the members of the party who were either single or was currently missing a spouse with them.
The couples were only allowed to attack when they were holding hands and the singles were counted out of the game if they were hit by a ball from other singles of an opposite sex or from the couples.
Her host had waxed some poetic bullshit about how misery loved company and this game being a metaphorical take of romance in real life, where the single/non-dating men and women were secretly going green with envy and plotting the demise and eventual split of all the lovey-dovey couples. And according to her whack job of a host, the ball was a representation of love, so when the singles get hit by a ball from the opposite sex, it meant that figuratively they were being struck down by love, so they were no longer single and thus, disqualified from the game.
Couples on the other hand, were disqualified if any one of them got hit by a ball; because that would have left them 'single' and without a partner instead.
Strange how love was likened to a flying ball and the players, her victims; and stranger still, Rukia thought she might even have really liked the whole concept of the game if she weren't one of the couples busy running for her life and avoiding said flying menaces.
Surrendering was not an option and really, Rukia would have politely opted out of the game based on the fact that she was wearing shoes that were simply not meant for running.
But the lunatic would not take that into account and she was thus made to compete in this crazily physical game while wearing a dress and running in stilettos. Claire Dearing definitely had it easy running from a T-Rex and the rest of the prehistoric reptilian ilk in Jurassic World.
She would have chosen to forfeit the game too if it weren't because she seemed to be targeted specifically by Grimmjow and God knows how much it would hurt if she did actually get hit by one of his flying balls!
So no, thus far, running was her only option. She had tried to take him out of the game with Ichigo's help earlier on, but the man was fast and sneaky. Rukia had learnt that it was far more efficient for her to conserve her strength and pray that the madman got hit by a stray ball instead.
"Ready or not, here I come!"
The maniacal laughter behind her made Rukia curse as she pushed herself to run faster.
Dear God, doesn't he ever stop to catch his breath?
Beside her, Ichigo narrowly avoided a speeding ball from a green-haired player by turning to his left and she made a conscious effort to keep her composure when the bastard had the cheek to grin and mock. "Enjoying the workout in heels, Rukia?"
Not even wanting to waste her breath in replying- because he was not worth it, she rudely flipped him off and inwardly, called Grimmjow a thousand and one unsavoury names that would have shamed a sailor and half of the world's population.
She heard the whizz of a ball flying towards her before she even saw it. Instinctively, she pivoted on her left foot to avoid the ball, but that was when the unthinkable happened.
Her heel snapped.
Before the horror of it all even began to register, because first and foremost, those were her favourite pair! The momentum caused her to pitch forward and she could feel her ankle bending unnaturally. She winced as her ankle throbbed. The sudden burst of sharp pain surprised her. She knew from experience that she must have twisted it.
She instinctively braced herself, throwing her arms to the front to protect her head.
"Look out!"
It was then when she felt the impact.
Not of her head hitting the ground, but of her being tackled by a grown man that was very likely to be twice her weight. It knocked the wind right out of her.
"Are you okay?"
She blinked away the tears, opening her eyes when the expected face plant did not happen. She tilted her head up, staring wordlessly at her hero. Her head was cushioned by his outstretched hand. Her body rendered immobile by his weight.
Ichigo was hovering over her. The workout from earlier left him drenched in a sheen of sweat. His cheeks were ruddy from the exertion and his chest was still heaving. His eyebrows knitted with concern at her stupor and lack of response. He repeated his question again, but she still could not find the words to reply.
Rukia's breaths were coming out short and ragged as her chest heaved from the adrenaline overload but she could not help but noticed that while Ichigo Kurosaki was most definitely a jerk at times and inconsiderately difficult when he put his mind to it, he had the most wonderful pair of melt-me-down butterscotch eyes she had ever seen.
She licked her lips subconsciously, swallowing hard. Before she was even coherently thinking, she was entertaining the idea of kissing him.
Of course, it was a stupid and not to mention reckless idea that she would later blame on the shock and adrenaline rush.
Thankfully by then, some of the party-goers had already snapped back to their senses. Rukia was saved from those distracting thoughts as they were approached by other guests. Grimmjow at least had the decency to look apologetic as he helped Ichigo to his feet. With the added weight off, she managed to pull herself upwards into a sitting position. She hissed when she tried to move her ankle, grimacing when she saw that it was swollen.
"Can you walk?"
She wanted to scoff. The swelling should have given it away. But now wasn't the time to be difficult. He wasn't at fault here. She should have listened to him when he told her to change for their 'date'. That, and Grimmjow should not be allowed to host any more parties in the future.
"I can try."
The sight of her ruined shoe with its snapped heel had her frowning. Still, there was no point in crying over ruined heels, just as there was no point in crying over spilt milk. She calmly slipped off her remaining shoe, casually setting it aside. And then, with a sharp intake of breath, Rukia clenched her fists and gingerly, tried to get to her feet.
She raised her head up in surprise when Ichigo's outstretched hand appeared in front of her. She blinked. Ichigo waved his hand in front of her, gesturing at her to grab hold. She looked into his eyes. The look of concern in his eyes was genuine.
"Let's get you out of the sun. I'll help you up. Grimmjow's already getting an ice pack ready. We'll fix you up with a strong drink and get that foot looked at, okay?"
"I want vodka," she told him curtly as she accepted his help, grabbing hold of his hand, using him as a support to pull herself up.
Ichigo chuckled, teasing her, "What? I thought you were a cocktail girl. What happened to 'sticking to your cover'?"
Rukia frowned, huffing. "Shut up! I'm the patient here. Have some compassion!"
The warmth that was emitted from his hands on hers and the small of her back as he supported her weight was comforting but even then, she struggled to rest her full weight on her injured foot. She could feel cold sweat dripping down her back in the full heat of the day and gave a loud sigh of relief when she finally managed to hobble indoors.
They were back in Grimmjow's den. She was helped into a comfortable armchair. Her injured foot was immediately propped and raised on a cushion, while Ichigo carefully did an examination on it. When Ichigo's fingers pressed a little too hard against the injury, she jerked in reflex. She gritted her teeth hard, swallowing her pain and discomfort.
"Sorry."
His prodding fingers were replaced by the coolness of the ice pack. Ichigo pressed the pack into her hand, urging her to keep it pressed against the wound.
"I don't think it's broken but you should probably get it x-rayed just to be sure. I'll take you there."
Rukia nodded. She was going to take Ichigo up on his offer. She looked towards their host, eager to say her goodbyes. Then, from the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of a woman with sharp eyes and even sharper features angrily stalking towards them.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez! Explain yourself!" the woman growled and Rukia realised with a start that this must be his wife.
She was altogether not what Rukia had envisioned. Unlike the tall, willowy supermodels who were busily fussing over her husband at the pool table earlier, his wife was short; only a few inches taller than herself.
She was not exotically blonde, red-haired or even a brunette. Her black locks were cut short to frame her face where her sharp elfin features were dominated by hawk-like eyes that missed nothing and were currently glaring fiercely at her husband. She looked stern and the way she moved hinted at an authoritative and independent streak.
Revenge was a dish best served cold, thought Rukia amusedly as she watched her seemingly fearless host fidget and tried valiantly to explain.
"Bee! Babe! I swear I didn't m—"
But the woman in question had cut short and rendered all his explanations invalid with one sharp look and that was it. Grimmjow shut his mouth and looked guiltily at his wife with devastatingly blue eyes that would have broken a weaker woman.
This woman was obviously made of sterner stuff.
"We will discuss this later," she hissed and then turning to her guests, coldly apologized for the hare-brained idea of a game hatched by her husband. "You all should have known better than to encourage him."
The last part was wholly accusatory and directed at her guests rather than her own husband. Most of her guests had averted their gazes, finding everything even their shoes infinitely more interesting than the woman's accusatory glare.
Ichigo seemed to be the only one brave or perhaps stupid enough to answer. He shrugged.
"We tried, Soifon. You know how Grimm gets."
The woman merely frowned at that and added, "I don't want excuses. Next time, Kurosaki—" she fixed him a cold stare— "stop him."
Ichigo grudgingly nodded and Soifon's attention shifted to Rukia.
"Miss—" Soifon paused, trying to remember who the guest was.
"Rukia."
"Right Rukia, please go with Kurosaki to a nearby hospital. The Suzumebachi Corps will gladly pay for any of the medical costs incurred."
She calmly slipped a name card into Rukia's hands. A black and gold bumblebee was embossed onto the front of the card. Rukia ran her thumb across the elegant kanji making up Soifon's name. She hadn't recognized the woman or her name, but she recognized the name of the company imprinted at the bottom.
The Suzumebachi Corps are land developers and a reputable construction company. They are one of the older and more prominent families known within the city; largely credited with the transformation of Seireitei City from a small seaside town in the 60s to the modern international trading port in the late 90s. Some of the family members served as city councillors and local politicians.
Others like Soifon played a role closer to home, helping out with the family business as their CEO.
Rukia thumbed the edges of the card before she pocketed it, keeping her surprise to a minimum. Ichigo has some powerful friends. Not incriminating nor indicative of anything but it was certainly … interesting.
"Get on!"
"Excuse me?"
Rukia was jolted from her musings when she saw Ichigo crouching down in front of her. He offered his back to her, urging her to get on.
"Come on," he tells her, "I'll carry you to the car. You should try and rest your foot. We don't actually know if it's broken, so you should just avoid putting your weight on it until we get it x-rayed."
Rukia felt her cheeks glowing, burning hot with embarrassment. She couldn't possibly do that. She didn't want to seem weak in front of Ichigo.
Tired of waiting, Ichigo suddenly stood up and unceremoniously swept her into his arms. Ignoring Rukia's surprised squawk, he shouldered the dozen or so gazes digging into his back as he carried her away. He was unperturbed by the added weight, casually walking on without a hitch in his steps. Rukia was tiny and it helped that she hardly weighed more than a sack of rice. His twin sisters- Karin and Yuzu were roughly the same height, well, maybe slightly taller than her; but he swore that they were heavier.
"Ichigo," she hissed. "Put me down!"
Ichigo's body radiated heat and warmth. On a hot day like this, it seemed to make her face burn even brighter. The sound of his heartbeat was steady and loud as Rukia felt herself being pressed against his chest. The sensation of being suspended, being held above ground without her feet solidly planted upon it was uncomfortable. Rukia squirmed, trying to get herself into a more comfortable position.
Ichigo frowned at the movement. "Stay still! Keep this up and I can't promise I won't accidentally drop you."
Now who's being unprofessional? For all that Rukia crowed about the need to preserve their cover and acting in-character, she was not doing a very good job at it!
What would their audience think of them? Of him especially; if they saw her squirming and struggling like this- clearly unused to the close proximity and lack of personal space?
Rukia made a face, sticking her tongue out at him as she pinched her nose. "You stink."
Ichigo scowled. The tips of his ears were tinged red at her comment.
How rude!
"Hey! Watch it! Need I remind you who's carrying you? I really can and will drop you if you keep this up!"
Rukia folded her arms, pointedly looking at from him, but otherwise remaining mercifully cooperative for the rest of the journey until they got into the car. Ichigo deposited her into the passenger side, helpfully buckling her seat belt for her before getting into his own seat.
As the car doors finally slam shut and the engine began revving, she turned to Ichigo. "Where are we going?"
He snorted. "Where else? I thought you wanted to visit my workplace. Figured now's a good time as any. Two birds, one stone. Eh?"
Karakura General Hospital it is, then.
.
.
.
Author's note:
Glow= blush. Weak I know but I tried hard to make this hold together somehow.