III. Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too
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The smell of alcohol hand sanitizers and chemical cleaning products made Rukia wrinkle her nose instinctively. Eager to disguise her discomfort, she focused on the x-ray of her ankle on the light board.
Everything looked good and normal, at least, according to the doctor on call. Her tibia and fibula were in good shape. No signs of any splinters or hairline fractures.
Ichigo, who was seated next to her, concurred. Her ankle was fine. It was just a sprain. There was no need for surgery and plaster casts.
Just plenty of rest and ice.
As the doctor and Ichigo went over a few more things- something medical-related that Rukia had absolutely no interest in, she let her attention wander. Her eyes darted to the cheerful-looking faces of children and smiling adults in the posters hanging on the wall, promoting one form of health service or another; willing herself to mime their smiles and exude the same tone of sunshine carefreeness.
Despite her insistence in taking on the role as the fake girlfriend, Rukia neglected to disclose an important fact to Renji. As a rule, she avoided hospitals and clinics like the plague. She especially hated going to hospitals.
Her earliest memories of the sterile white walls, coincided with the time her older sister was diagnosed with cancer. To 10-year-old Rukia, much like the disease, the hospital ate away at her sister. The unpleasant memories lingered despite rationality and the passage of time.
The statistics for life expectancy are at best, only numbers. Words like survival and remission come attached with 'if's, 'when's and 'but's. Like a game of hangman without any cues or hints, the noose tightens when you least expect it to.
Hisana passed away three months after her diagnosis. In the span of those three months, she wasted away before Rukia's eyes; splintering away from a vibrant young woman who just married the man of her dreams, finally able to live her life without the responsibility of being the sole caretaker to a sister more than a decade younger than herself; into a frail body, all skin and bones lying lifeless and pale on a hospital bed.
Rukia bore witness to the process, watched it all tumble like a fall of domino tiles. She was there in the room, holding Hisana's hand when the doctors broke the news. As orphans, they only had each other, but Hisana did her best to provide for them and was the best older sister she could have ever wanted. She was young but she wasn't stupid. All those trips to the hospital must mean something. Hisana would not be so tense, gripping her hand so tight that her knuckles turned white if the situation was not serious. Even as a child, Rukia knew better than to let her sister face the news alone and fought hard to not let her discomfort show.
Byakuya sat on the other side of Hisana, holding onto her hand every bit as tightly when the news came. Rukia watched him stiffen, clenching his jaw tight, his eyes hardening. The news shook the usually unflappable man to his core. As Hisana hid her face in her hands, devastated by the news, Rukia sneaked a glance at him. She didn't know what to expect from her sister's husband of only six months.
Setting her lips into a grim line, Rukia steeled herself for the possibility of him leaving. She believed that Hisana did too as she straightened herself up after the shock passed.
It has always been her and Hisana growing up. Their relatives didn't cared about them and over time, Rukia got the message: they weren't welcomed. They were a liability. Just two more hungry mouths to feed and now a bottomless pit of medical bills to pay?
Their uncles and aunts would want nothing to do with them. This, Rukia knew full well. Why would Byakuya be any different?
Of course, the man said he loved her sister and recited his marriage vows solemnly; but that was before the diagnosis. A deathly ill spouse with mounting medical bills was not an easy burden to shoulder, especially for a couple who have not even celebrated their paper anniversary.
Yet, to everyone's surprise, Byakuya stayed. He was there every step of the way- loyal and steadfastly accompanying Hisana to all her chemo sessions, holding her hand and carrying her up the stairs when she grew too frail. Her brother-in-law was her sister's silent guardian until the very bitter end.
Neither Byakuya nor Rukia cried much when Hisana finally passed away. They have seen how much she suffered during the treatment.
Surgery was not an option for her. Hisana had to undergo chemo and radiotherapy. The sound of retching in the toilets downstairs came round like clockwork after each session. The hair loss hit Hisana the hardest even though she tried hard to not let it show.
They knew that she persisted and persevered more for their sake than her own; so much so that there was almost a collective sigh of relief from all three when the doctors told them that further sessions of chemo won't be needed. It won't make much of a difference to Hisana anyway. Her cancer has metastasized into her bones and that was that.
There was nothing more they could do for her.
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"M-Miss Kuchiki?"
The doctor called out again when she didn't respond. It was Ichigo's touch on her shoulder that jolted Rukia out of her daydreams.
"Yes?"
She blinked at her doctor, noting with surprise at how baby-faced he looked. He looked unusually nervous and fidgety. He avoided looking at Ichigo's direction and for a second, Rukia thought the poor boy was about to cry. She immediately felt bad. She could not remember his name though she clearly remembered him having introduced himself to her earlier.
Seeing this, Ichigo gave a tired sigh and motioned for the junior doctor to go and take care of the other patients in his round. The ER department is never short of patients.
"I'll take over from you. Thanks, Hanataro— erm... Dr. Yamada."
"Y-Yes! Anytime, Sir- I mean, Dr. Kurosaki," squeaked the other man as he quickly darted out of the room without so much as a glance behind him.
Rukia let out a low whistle at the doctor's speed as he took his leave, turning the corner so quickly he almost hit the wall. She could understand why the young doctor was intimidated. It's his face, she thought. Even if Ichigo was not scowling, his unsmiling face was stern and when he kept his face blank, his lips defaulted to a resting frown/scowl, his eyebrows knitted.
"What did you say to him? He couldn't wait to get away from you!"
Ichigo folded his arms, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. "You're exaggerating! He's just naturally nervous. I was chief resident when he was intern. He's always been like that."
Rukia remained skeptical, but graciously left it at that. Instead, she cleared her throat and hobbled off her seat towards the exit without waiting for Ichigo's support. The pain killers that the doctor prescribed have yet to kick in, but she has been through worse.
"You coming?" she asked.
Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the way she pressed her lips tightly and the beads of cold sweat that formed with every step she took. She winced whenever she set her foot down. She was in pain. That much was obvious. Would it kill her to ask for help from him?
"What's your hurry?"
He easily caught up with her with his longer strides, chiding at her to be more mindful of her injuries. "Slow down or you'll injure your ankle again."
He wordlessly offered his hand to her and Rukia accepted it. She didn't push him away, using him as her crutch as they made their way down the corridor. It seemed natural for them to fall into step with each other. Ichigo knew where they were going and Rukia was happy to let him lead the way.
Ichigo was right of course, but some habits die hard. Asking for help seemed like openly admitting to having weakness. Rukia didn't need pity. Besides, she was in a rush.
A rush to get away from the hospital and complete her job.
She had a role to play after all. As the murder suspect's 'girlfriend', she needed to be bait and the best thing to do as they're in the hospital was to have her show her face among his colleagues and other hospital staff. It would definitely be more convincing if they saw Ichigo and her hobbling along the corridor like this- him leaning forward and bending slightly to match her gait, Rukia's arm curled around his waist, holding onto his side; and his draped likewise around hers for better support to make sure she didn't fall.
They made their way to the front desk of the ER department. She caught Ichigo's eye and gave him a firm nod. It was phase two of their plan, albeit happening at an accelerated pace. The original plan wasn't going to happen until they- or at least she was more integrated into his life and social circle.
In the car ride on the way to the hospital, Rukia reasoned that it would be a good opportunity to set bait, let the news of her presence circulate among the staff and watch as its effects begin to ripple. If the killer was someone among the hospital staff, they would surely hear of Dr. Kurosaki's new girlfriend. With so many eye witnesses corroborating on her existence, it was only a matter of time before jealousy took hold and the murderer strikes!
Now was as good a time as any, so why wait?
Ichigo had his doubts at first. Subterfuge and deceit didn't sit well with him. He wanted to let his working superiors know about the plot beforehand, but Rukia reminded him rather heatedly that: one, they couldn't be sure that the killer was not among his superiors; two, the higher-ups might not be able to keep the secret to themselves. If anyone, especially the media caught wind of this, Renji could lose his job and the repercussion would be severe.
He could turn it into an opportunity to latch on to her again when Rukia just wanted to put everything behind her and start over in another city. The last part, Rukia kept to herself.
"Ah, Inoue! So it's you on duty today. Is Head Nurse Isane in?"
The woman that Ichigo greeted looked up from her computer. A buxom redhead, Rukia thought she'd fit right in with the crowd she saw at Grimmjow's- drop dead gorgeous and practically runway-ready. According to the name tag she wore, her name was Orihime Inoue.
At the sight of Ichigo's sudden appearance, Orihime shot up. Her movement was so abrupt that Rukia was surprised she didn't give herself whiplash. The surprise in Orihime's eyes morphed into delight in a heartbeat. The woman simpered, batting her eyelashes, tucking a few stray strands of loose hair behind her ears.
"Dr. Kurosaki! What a surprise!"
Her voice was high-pitched and a little breathless. Her grey gaze lingered at Ichigo. Her romantic interest for him could not have been more pronounced.
Rukia was not blind. Clearly this was one of Ichigo's many admirers in the hospital. Yet, the doctor was not the slightest bit receptive to the passion and fervor burning in her eyes. He slipped behind the barriers unperturbed, casually making his way behind the desk. Rukia wanted to follow suit, but Orihime quickly stopped her.
"Sorry miss. Staff only."
Orihime hid her displeasure behind a fake smile. She didn't like the woman the minute she laid eyes on her. The woman standing next to Ichigo had her arm around his waist. The lack of personal space between the two was worrying. She cast her eyes at the other woman's bare feet and her frown only deepened as her gaze trailed upwards. Were those grass stains on the hem of the dress?
How embarrassing!
Ichigo scratched at the back of his head. He belatedly remembered that Rukia was not a member of staff. "Sorry, Inoue. She's with me. I forgot she can't come in."
He gestured at the few empty seats nearby, smiling apologetically at her. "Is it okay to just wait for me out here, Rukia? I just need to check in with Isane about something work-related."
That sent the alarm bells blaring in Orihime's head. She has been working with him for the past four years and yet, Dr. Kurosaki still called her by her last name.
Orihime clenched her fists hard. She sensed competition coming her way. It just might be the strongest competition she had to date yet- one that won't be deterred or fooled by her usual tactics.
She opened her mouth, just about to suggest that the woman would have to go wait further down the hall as the front few seats should be reserved for the disabled and other priority patients, but then abruptly changed her mind.
The nurse turned to look at Rukia, giving her another once-over, noting in particular her black hair and shorter stature. She heard it from the grapevine that Dr. Kurosaki had a dark-haired sister. It's even written in his personnel file, or at least that's what Senna from the Admin team told them.
Orihime immediately beamed brightly. She might have stumbled upon the perfect opportunity. What better way of currying favours and earning brownie points than getting an 'in' with his family members, or more specifically, a beloved younger sister!
She quickly hid her calculative gleam behind her innocent smile, acting surprised. "Oh you're Dr. Kurosaki's guest!"
Then, turning to Ichigo, she happily volunteering her services. "I can keep her company while you finish up your business with Head Nurse."
Ichigo frowned. "No, that wouldn't be necessary, Inoue. You're busy and on duty. Rukia's a grown woman. She can take care of herself."
"But it's no trouble at all, Dr. Kurosaki! You work so hard! Anything for you and your family!"
Ichigo suddenly frowned, perplexed at Orihime's insistence. His cheeks are a little warm, but he swore that it was more from annoyance than anything else. "She's not ...family?"
Orihime likewise stilled. This time her surprise was not feigned. As a self-proclaimed know-it-all in all things Kurosaki, right down to the way he smells and the shoe sizes he wears; she was completely unprepared for the denial from Ichigo. She could not possibly be wrong.
"I-Isn't she your sister?"
Rukia interrupted, cutting into the conversation. "As flattering as it is, I am not family yet. I'm Ichigo's girlfriend."
Orihime stilled, staring at the two of them, dumbfounded. "W-What?"
She could have sworn that the woman just admitted to being Ichigo's girlfriend. But she must have heard wrong. That could not possibly happen. Everyone in the hospital knows that Dr. Kurosaki only has work on his mind. The hospital was his home. The man did not go on dates and he did not sleep around. Also, with his busy work schedule; where and how was he going to find the time to romance a woman and convince her to be his girlfriend?
Her eyes darted to Ichigo, horrified at the news and wanting to hear it from him instead.
Ichigo nodded solemnly. Orihime almost felt that she was being stabbed, her still beating heart ripped out ruthlessly from her chest when she saw the faint blush showing on Ichigo's face. He gave a light cough, clearing his throat as he looked at Rukia.
Orihime could feel her eyes twitching. She has never known Ichigo to look at anyone so tenderly.
"Y-Yeah, Inoue. Um... this is Rukia, my girlfriend."
Orihime fought the urge to cry. This was uncalled for. Why did he have to sound so bashful and sweet, making the introductions? Didn't he have any compassion for her poor heart?
Orihime clenched her fist. There must be a mistake. There were words sitting at the tip of her tongue. She still could not believe that Ichigo- her Dr. Kurosaki would one day be breaking her heart so callously. She thought that they were meant to be. It was only a matter of time before he realized that.
They were so alike. She would be good to him. Why couldn't he see that she was unlike any other women fishing for his attention?
"Dr. Kurosaki! That is um... I-Ichi—"
"Go and finish up your business with the Head Nurse so we can go eat lunch, Ichigo! I'm starving! What sort of boyfriend are you? Do you even have a heart? Your girlfriend is injured and all you can think about is work?!"
Ichigo knew the first stirrings of trouble by the arch of her brows. He immediately pushed past the barriers, rushing to her side. If he had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop her then so be it. They were only acting as a couple but Rukia was enjoying this far too much at his expense. The smirk that she hides and the mischievous gleam in her eyes was too obvious. Even when she had the rest of the room eating out of her hand, Ichigo was not amused.
"Rukia," he told her, his voice tight as Rukia folded her arms, pouting as she glared. "You're over-reacting."
"Over-reacting?!"
Ichigo winced at the shrillness of her voice. Rukia was a horrible actress. Her voice seemed to go a pitch higher every time she was putting on the act of being his lovey-dovey, overtly emotional girlfriend. He scowled. More so, when he noticed the attention she was drawing with her petulant whining. She was so loud!
The tip of his ears were burning and he especially, hated how she had the crowd fooled. There were people throwing him scandalous looks, disapprovingly tutting at him in the background while she upped the ante. She produced a handkerchief, seemingly out of thin air, and was now suspiciously dabbing at the corner of her eyes.
"You're so cold to me these days! It's like you don't even care! You're always so busy—" Rukia sniffed, blowing her nose delicately into her handkerchief— "you—you don't love me anymore!"
Ichigo's eye twitched. The sudden wail of despair at the end of her accusation threw him off. The dirty looks thrown at him though, only seemed to grow in intensity. He bit the tip of his tongue, resisting the urge to throw her over his shoulders, running away in embarrassment.
It was all part of an act, he told himself as he saw the look that Rukia was giving him.
Play along, she mouthed before she hastily covered her face again, resuming her sorrowful 'crying'.
He drew a sharp breath. The woman was a brat, a midget, a liar and a gigantic pain in the ass; but it was all part of the greater plan to catch the real killer and clear up his good name for good. Rukia's theatrics was a necessary evil.
So what would a good boyfriend do in this scenario?
"Babe—" Ichigo cringed internally at the pet name and he could have sworn he saw Rukia do the same behind her handkerchief— "s-stop— stop being difficult! You know that I do."
Rukia lifted a corner of her handkerchief, peeking through the gap. "Do what?"
Choking.
Ichigo swore he was choking. There was already a crowd gathered and among them, he noticed a few familiar faces. These were his colleagues, for crying out loud! If his reputation ever survived this; he threw her a scathing look. He mumbled incomprehensibly under his breath.
"What was that, Ichigo? I couldn't hear you very well."
Ichigo scowled. Her playing dumb was so not cute! And don't think he didn't see that smug grin she was hiding behind her handkerchief!
"I that is to say, I lu-lur-love you."
Almost immediately, Rukia's sobbing stopped. She lowered her handkerchief. "R-Really?"
"Yes," Ichigo mumbled through gritted teeth, "really."
He forced the muscles in his jaw to relax and unclench. The result was a watery, stiff smile that almost had Rukia deadpanning. If this was him acting as a man head-over-heels in love with her, Rukia was unimpressed by the slightest. Not only was she the brains of the operation, her superior acting skills meant that she was also the hard carry of the team.
The show, though must go on.
"Y-You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
She was doe-eyed and meek as she peered at him from under her sooty eyelashes. The projected effect of innocence was one that would have tugged on heartstrings, old and young alike. Ichigo quickly reaffirmed two things from her act: one, it really doesn't suit her; two, and ever more importantly, he so did not find that cute—no, that was clearly the wrong word to use— charming.
Either this investigation was going to send him to an early grave or his fake girlfriend would.
Rolling his eyes would give him away and Rukia would have his hide for ruining the act that she had painstakingly put on, so Ichigo decided to nod. He told himself that he should not even be surprised by the tears that were welling in her eyes. Rukia was the sort of midget who would cry on demand and made him feel bad about it. Never mind that he was the real victim here. He could almost hear the amused snickers coming from the unnamed corners of the hospital. After today, everyone in Karakura General would know about his very public confession.
"Ichigo!"
Deep in thought, he was very much caught off guard by Rukia's abrupt decision to throw herself against him. He reacted just in time to open his arms and catch her as she leaped. It nearly knocked the wind right out of him but he righted himself with the help of the sturdy counter desk behind him. The back of his legs knocked against the wood. It hurt enough for him to know that it would bruise by the day after, but his grip on her didn't loosen. Instinctively, he raised his arms out to steady her and held on tight; just as Rukia wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs coiled about his waist for extra support.
Ichigo gulped.
There was a collective coo of delight and a loud gasp of 'awww' from the spectators. Someone in the crowd started clapping and then more people joined in; then came the hollering and wolf whistles and all poor Ichigo wanted was to be anywhere but here.
Regardless of how the investigations go, maybe he should consider handing in his resignation letter anyway?
He didn't think he would survive the embarrassment today.
Rukia was unperturbed by their crowd and their enthusiastic response to them 'making up' after a lover's spat. Ichigo could have sworn the palms of his hands burned from where they are pressed against her body. Her presence was unignorable. Perched at this height, she easily burrowed her face in the crook of his neck; the sound of her quick breaths unnecessarily amplified. Up close, she smelled like green grass and wet earth, perhaps a faint hint of her lingering perfume, something mildly floral scented. His heart had no business to be pounding this hard.
Just as she had no business to nuzzle and then whisper into his ear, "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Ichigo jumped at the sudden warmth. Warm air tickled his ear. Surprised, he almost dropped her. He scowled at her, but realized belatedly that the intimidating effect might have been offset by the flush in his cheeks.
He brushed the tip of his nose against her cheek, his lips almost a hairsbreadth away from her ear lobe. He knew he didn't imagine the slight shiver of her discomfort as he pressed close, hellbent on invading her personal space. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper.
"S-Shut up! You're making too much of a scene! Now hurry up and get down before your boyfriend drops you!"
Rukia's reply to this was a snort, followed by a quick peck on his cheeks.
"Hey!"
Ichigo's hand pressed against his cheek. The side of his face tingled and burned. He didn't need to look in a mirror to know that his face must look like it's on fire. Annoyed, he chided himself for behaving like this.
It was just an innocent peck on the cheek!
If anyone told him a week ago that he would be caught blushing in public (for being kissed on the cheek of all things!), he would have laughed it off as a joke. Right now, high school Ichigo would have been undoubtedly very unimpressed by his future self. He scowled at the culprit but Rukia's grin was too impish for her own good.
She was unapologetic of her actions and haughtily commanded him to put her down.
With so many pairs of eyes watching, Ichigo maintained that his hand was forced. If he dropped her now, it would set them back at square one and Rukia would just find infinitely more humiliating (what she would call creative) ways to make him pay. He fought the urge to shudder at the thought of another public embarrassment.
So, with Rukia still in his arms, he walked towards the few empty seats lining the wall behind her. It afforded her the best view. She would see him as soon as he came out from behind the reception desk. That should keep her whining down to a minimum and keep her out of trouble.
He set her down gingerly, carefully patting away the few specks of green dirt at the hem of her sundress before smoothing at the skirt, draping it over her thighs. Finally satisfied with the end result, he cleared his throat; his cheeks still suspiciously pink as he straightened himself up.
"Wait here," he told her before he marched towards the counter desk without a second glance behind him. He kept his head down, pointedly avoiding Rukia's eyes while the rest of the crowd watched on in amusement.
Orihime was no exception. Her outstretched hand was left shaking as Ichigo walked past her briskly.
Standing behind the receptionist's desk, she was granted the undisputed front row seat as the lover's spat drama took to centre stage. Orihime missed nothing. She stood firmly by her earlier judgement. The woman named Rukia was a menace.
Her interruption drew attention away from her. Her bratty behaviour made sure that everyone, especially Dr. Kurosaki, kept their eyes on her and only her. Her tone was whiny and petulant. She was rude and insufferably so. But worse— much worse than that, her interaction with Ichigo hinted at a sense of familiarity and closeness that had Orihime gritting her teeth hard.
She had never seen him look at anyone like that, nor had she ever seen him behaving like that with anyone. Dr. Kurosaki was a private man who made it a point to not let emotions get the better of him. There was hardly a shadow of that man present just now in that public spectacle of romantic drama.
In the presence of Rukia, Orihime saw a man being manipulated by the object of his affections and made a fool of. He was too blind to see it of course— so idealistic and trusting, but life is filled with unsavoury characters seeking to prey upon the kindness of others. Dr. Kurosaki had fallen under the spell of one such character.
Rukia was spoiled and arrogant. She brought a great man down to his knees and derived her sadistic amusement in belittling him.
Orihime hid her clenched fists in her sleeves as she glared venomously at the culprit who was currently examining her nails in boredom.
"You don't deserve him."
Rukia arched an eyebrow at her. The animosity behind Orihime's words made her frown. But her reaction piqued Rukia's interest. Orihime Inoue— the jealous colleague; one with access to Ichigo's patient files and from the looks of it, one who harboured deep feelings for him.
The question is: does she direct this animosity and hate towards every woman she sees Ichigo interacting closely with? Is this hate strong enough to make her kill?
Would she disguise this hate, dress it up as friendship with the unsuspecting woman, only to break the trust by slitting their throats the minute they were granted access into the victims' homes?
These are questions that Rukia didn't have the answers to.
For now, anyway.
Anger tends to make people lash out. It loosens the tongue, pretenses forgotten; façade of rationality shattered. People can blurt out secrets. Killers can become sloppy and sloppy killers get caught.
It was time to lower the bait into deeper waters.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rukia huffed, carelessly flipping her hair, "Ichigo and I. Are. In. Love. You heard him. He said so himself. He loves me. Not you. Not anyone else in this hospital."
Orihime's lips have dipped into a stern line and was nearly bloodless from how hard she was biting down on them. She should have known!
The crying, the baleful accusations— it was all an act. Rukia only wanted to use and manipulate Dr. Kurosaki for her own amusement. She won't let her get away with this. Orihime vowed that she would unmask the truth and expose the ugly bitch for what she truly was.
Rukia smirked, taunting. "What are you going to do about it?"
"You bitch—"
"Rukia! I'm back!"
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Che!
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Rukia grimaced at Ichigo's untimely interruption. They really have to work on his timing.
Ichigo crossed the distance between them in three big strides. As annoyed as she was, Rukia immediately went into loving girlfriend mode. She extended her hand towards Ichigo, beaming saccharine sweet, batting her eyelashes coquettishly at him. "Are you all done now, darling?"
Ichigo visibly stiffened. To his credit, he recovered quickly. With only a slight narrowing of his eyes, he wrapped his hand around Rukia's, taking her hand and supporting her weight as she giggled and leaned against him. Her arm sneaked into the crook of his arm, intertwining their fingers and he begrudgingly allowed the gesture.
It was all for the purpose of their mission of course.
"Thank God for that! Ichigo, I'm starving! Let's go for lunch! We're going to be late for our reservation at that nice Japanese restaurant if we don't hurry!"
Still beaming, she gave a victorious smirk to Orihime as she waved goodbye, ignoring how Ichigo tugged on her to hurry her along. "Bye, Orihime! See you next time! I'll be sure to pass on your best regards to Ichigo's sisters the next time I see them."
Outside the hospital, Ichigo narrowed his eyes at her. "A word of warning the next time you decide to make a scene like that?"
He didn't think his reputation would survive a second wave of attack from Rukia's fake girlfriend antics. It was only a matter of time before the gossip mills in Karakura General do their churning, spreading the tales of his public adoration today far and wide.
Rukia scoffed. "The end justifies the means."
Even if Orihime wasn't the killer, Rukia doubted that anyone would have a bigger target painted on their back after the spectacle today. The killer, she was sure; must have noticed her by now. Of that, Rukia had every faith.
"What do you think about Orihime Inoue?"
Ichigo shrugged. "What about her? She's a good nurse. The guys at Karakura General love her. Gets along well with her colleagues. A bit ditzy but she means well, I guess."
"You do know that she likes you right? Should have seen her face after you left. She looked like she wanted to eat me alive— no, tear me apart limb from limb and then eat me alive."
"Quit exaggerating! And no— don't even try to deny it. You were trying to rile her up. You are at least partially responsible for her making a face like that."
Rukia frowned. "You weren't there!" she huffed, folding her arms, "how did you know I was riling her up? I could have been the victim."
Ichigo sighed. "Don't need to. I know you."
"Wow, Ichigo! You know me so well! I feel so loved!"
He frowned, rolling his eyes. "There's no need to be sarcastic."
"Awww, but baaaaabeeee, I thought you love me, sarcasm and all."
Rukia wrinkled her nose, suddenly reminded of his earlier lackluster performance. That was not a convincing show of adoration. "You need to work on your acting and on your confession. You suck as my fake boyfriend."
"Well, right back at you, fake girlfriend."
"I do n—"
Her stomach gave a loud growl then, successfully stopping the subsequent bickering in its tracks. Rukia cleared her throat, flustered that her hunger chose the inopportune moment to make itself known.
Ichigo chuckled at her. "Right. Truce?"
Rukia nodded grudgingly. He did his best. She'd give him that much. Not everyone can be a natural talent like her.
"Speaking of Japanese food, I actually do know a place. It's not that far from here and their katsudon is amazing. My treat," he offered, "you did injure your ankle after all from all that running around at Grimm's."
"That is ...acceptable."
Ichigo's lips dipped into a frown when he noticed Rukia's bare feet. The car park wasn't that far away from the hospital but he felt bad at the thought of making her walk. The temperature was mild enough but even then, it would not have felt nice to walk barefoot across sunbaked tiles and bitumen road.
"Wait here," he said, "I'll bring the car over."
Neither of them noticed that up until now, Ichigo hadn't let go of her hand.
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Author's note:
I originally wanted them to go karaoke in this chapter. That good ole Elvis love song— corny af but then *gestures at chapter* this happened. So, here we are~
We'll see if the song makes an appearance later.
As for teasing, Rukia is 12/10 the kind of person who'd dish it out but can't take it. Ichigo is well... you'll see. 😏