protector

It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed. Every time she was brought to his mind, he thought of her. The warmth of her smile, the motherly tenderness of her fingers stroking through his hair. God, he’d always felt like such a burden on her. “Mom...” This festival was to remember the dead? There wasn’t a day that he didn’t think about it. How could he not remember? And it wasn’t just his mom that he had to remember. There were so many others who had died, sacrificed themselves against the evils that they’d faced.

Seeing everyone being merry and  dancing around  was...something. He had to say that it alleviated some kind of weight from his shoulders. Ichigo could probably dance his problems away...but that wasn’t really his thing. Sure, he liked music but he wasn’t the type to get up and dance to it. Not often, at least.

A cup filled full with punch rest within his hand, the other tucked away within his  pocket. His back was nestled up against a wall, not keen on joining the festivities. Not without a lot of nudging from someone. And he barely knew anyone in this city. That was his own damn fault though. His eyes flicked through the crowd, hopeful to find a familiar face...when  he saw a familiar red ponytail bouncing about.

“Ah. There goes trouble.” He said, just loud enough for her to hear. Intentionally loud enough for her to hear. His tone was in jest, naturally. It was a dry sort of comment but a light smile  was present on his face upon delivery.

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      “Of course I do. You just said you’re crap at keeping yourself out of trouble, so why should I even pretend to be surprised?” It wasn’t as if she didn’t know already anyway, considering everything between the fight with Ginjo and the fight in Seireitei. Taking a breath to snap out something else about his lack of self-care, she instead finds herself choking on it instead, a hand pressing to her chest to keep from making it too obvious. 

“I’d be fine with taking care of you every once in a while, y’know?”

          It’s the kind of cheesy thing you’d hear in a shoujo manga or something, saccharine and earnest to a fault. Of course even Kurosaki isn’t dumb enough not to notice how that sounds, and his immediate backpedaling makes it easier to breathe again… though the disappointment that settles in the wake of her near-panicked euphoria is almost unpleasant.            Well, it’s not the first time. 

          “…yeah, yeah, don’t strain yourself or anything, Kurosaki, before you embarrass yourself any worse. God, it’s almost like you think I don’t know what situations I can handle myself and which I can’t…!” Which, if she had her way, he’d never know about either. She didn’t want him to think he had to show up and play the hero for her constantly, no matter how stubborn he was. “You don’t have to keep telling me how much you like getting yourself beat up!”

He couldn’t help but feel like she’s disappointed when he corrects himself...and he really can’t understand why. His brow furrowed and he let out a heavy sigh. Ichigo was one of the most capable people around so it was only natural that he do his best to shelter and protect the people around him. She was someone he cared about...so it was only natural he worry about her.

No matter how much she decided that she didn’t need his help. As she knew...he was stubborn to a fault.

The telltale scowl creased his features at her words and there was a faint dusting of red on his cheeks...though it was nearly unnoticeable. He was a little embarrassed, he had to admit.

      “No shit?” Her tone of voice is jokingly incredulous, but she can’t quite bring herself to look in his direction. Not yet, in any case. 

          “I’m fine, Kurosaki. I don’t know if you realize, but I’ve been taking care of myself for a long damn time.” Even when the others had been around, she’d still been on her own more often than not, no matter how much time she spent with them. “Besides, no one here I can’t just Bringer Light the hell away from, at the very least.” 

She was such a pain sometimes...but he still did care about her a great deal. She’d done a lot for him and, in the end, he owed her a lot. But that wasn’t really all it boiled down to. “Ya don’t have to be so blunt about it--”

      “Ghk–!” He doesn’t mean it that way, and she knows he doesn’t, but she can’t help but react to it, feeling the heat rise in her neck, her cheeks, and so she jerks her head to the side to be sure he can’t see her face. 

          “It doesn’t matter, just– don’t go jumping headfirst into fights like that, dumbass. Didn’t you learn that much from Ginjo and Tsukishima, at least?” She really, really, doesn’t want to have to intercede between him and another blade– but she will. “Honestly, it’s like you’re trying to win a Darwin Award with that lack of self-preservation.” 

“I’ve never been great about knowing when not to fight. Only when I need to fight.” Usually his friends had to drag him away or step in to stop him from getting killed so that he could get away. He felt like he was the one getting rescued a lot of the time. Anytime he ended up helping? It was just in repayment, he supposed. That’s what he wanted to say to keep up the show of nonchalance...but the truth was that he didn’t want to see people hurt.

      He was… going to go get into a fight for her? The very idea is absurd, but it’s also so absolutely Kurosaki that she feels (just a little!) bad for getting mad at him. 

          “…don’t– don’t go doing stupid crap like picking fights for my sake, you idiot. Inoue isn’t here to fix you up, and she’d never forgive me if I let you get messed up.” Because that was really the reason she didn’t want him possibly getting hurt, obviously. “I can handle people who piss me off on my own.” 

“Now why would I try and start something?

…that battle was simply a fluke.”

      “…you were there, asshole.” He killed one of her friends, despite how strong they’d all thought Ginjo was. “You should know why this kind of crap rubs me the wrong way.” 

It was around then that it clicked. Here he was, not really paying attention to his surroundings. He’d just sort of said something without thinking when she’d started talking about people not stepping up and the like. His brow furrowed and the guilt settled in.

“Assuming you could do such a thing.”

      “I didn’t mean start a fight with someone who technically hasn’t done anything, moron! It’s about the principle!” 

      Oh. My god.            “READ A FUCKING MOOD YOU DUNCE!”

“The one so casually talking about all of this who won’t stop smiling. I feel like he would be an easy fight.”

      Really, she tended to forget, sometimes, that just because Kurosaki could be softer than pudding didn’t mean he didn’t have his sharp edges. It’s hard not to let her superior smile falter at the words, sarcastic though they might be, and she rolls her eyes to disguise the flinch, fingers trailing over the handle of her purse idly. It’s hard to swallow the more biting, bitter retort that she wants to snap back with out of instinct, but she really can’t afford to alienate Kurosaki. Not when he really is one of the few people she feels like she can actually trust in this place.

         “Well, here you are asking me to hang out anyway,” she replies, still acting lofty as can be, though her eyes refuse to return to him again for the moment. “So I guess I’m not the only one.”           If her tone is a little bitter, she won’t admit to it, and if she feels a bit bad for essentially being a last resort, she won’t let it show. It’s just not in her to let people know, no matter who they are, whether or not she wants their approval, or cares what they think. And while she’s sure Kurosaki at least knows she’s not terrible, she also knows that their interactions, to him, were limited and drawn out over longer than they were. She wonders if he realizes just how much running around she’d had to do in order to keep everyone fed in that stupid simulation of Yukio’s–            – but that’s really not the point, is it?            The point is that he’s, more or less, stuck with her if he wants to hang out with anyone, and she’s more than willing to exploit the chance to spend some time with him. She’d be an idiot not to, after all. 

          “Well, you still owe me a replacement for Pork-san, since that weirdo let you rough him up,” she begins, chin lifting and eyes roving toward the beach. “So really, that whole stuffed animal deal sounds like a good place to start, if you ask me.” 

He liked to think that he was pretty good at reading people. There were times when he could be a complete idiot when it came to things like that...and then times when he could read someone like a book. He noticed that loss of eye contact and the slight bitterness to her words. Guilt settled in on his chest and he simply wore the scowl upon his face as he always did. ‘Damnit...you idiot.’ He thought to himself, sighing and furrowing his brow further until his eyes closed.

“I wasn’t even sure if you’d be interested in this kinda thing. It seems more like physical sports things. ...S’the only reason I didn’t ask you.” It was a bit of a shoddy excuse but he really only came here to check it out and then probably would’ve left about half an hour later. This kind of thing is something he would’ve come to with his family. Then his friends later. That’s just how these things went...and he didn’t feel like missing any of them even though he already did.

Slowly, Ichigo opened his eyes  when she mentioned Pork-san. Ugh...that damn pig. What a pain in the ass...but he supposed she wasn’t wrong about him owing her. He had  torn it to pieces during his training. His chest puffed up with  a slow inhale before he released a sigh through his nostrils.

@tenshouoff

      Really, she’s only planning to screw with him a little– or at least for however long it takes him to figure it out. Settling her elbows on the counter to one side of him, she signals for a drink and then turns to face him, fingers tapping against her chin. It’s strange not to have her hair readily available to toss over her shoulder, but she makes do, peering up at him over the rims of her spare glasses, a smirk in place.           She’s really never been so grateful her already terrible eyesight is even worse at night.

          “A guy like you is really just gonna stand here all night and not even get on the dance floor…?” Her eyes cut to the dance floor, then back to him. “Or is dancing just not your thing?”

He was really out of his element here. He was just hanging out at the snack table, scooping punch into a plastic cup he’d procured and being astounded that he didn’t have to run to the  bathroom yet. It’d probably hit him when he least expected it...and then he likely would have just left. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come in the first place.

Then someone with an oddly familiar presence approached him. Someone he didn’t really recognize physically but...being able to identify someone by the energy their very soul gave off could be handy sometimes. He was drawing a blank at that moment though.

      Really, she’s well aware that she’s the only thing that’s familiar to him in this place so far, but can she really be blamed for taking advantage of the fact? Well, maybe a little, but she thinks even she deserves to be this particular brand of selfish once in a while. Mouth curling into a faint smirk behind her snack, she waits until he’s finished rambling (and really, did he have to be so adorable about it?) to tilt her head, pretending to think.            “Well, considering I’m not exactly ‘miss congeniality’, I don’t exactly have a lot of friends to plan things with. So…”           Her smile is a little bit wry, a little bit self-deprecating, but still somewhat hopeful. 

          “If you’re really that desperate for someone to hang out with, I guess I can take pity on you.” She finishes on a lofty note, raising her chin and thankful that she’s once more without her glasses. She’s pretty sure dealing with him this close would end badly if she could see properly.            “What’d you have in mind, anyway? I’m just kind of… wandering around.” And stuffing her face, but she won’t mention that little tidbit. 

Jeez. Just who did she think she was trying to say that he was desperate for someone to hang out with? All he wanted to do was spend some time with a friend and the only time they’d really spent together was during his Fullbring training. Hands shoved themselves into his pockets and he released a quiet sigh, tilting his head from side to side and scowling gently.

“You don’t have many friends? Who’d have thought with an attitude like that?” His tone was in jest, positively dripping with sarcasm. His  intentions weren’t malicious but to take a playful jab at her more than anything. He was just being pouty because, in all honesty, he might’ve been just a little bit desperate for friends. He was so used to having someone around that he could hang with, whether it was Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro, or even Orihime from time to time.

Truth be told, he didn’t know her that well. It wasn’t as though he wanted it that way. He knew she was one of the good ones as far as Fullbring went and she’d helped him when he needed her most.

“Ah. Well, I kinda wanted to try out the jet skis. Volleyball sounds fun but finding a teammate might be a pain, especially if they’ve never played before. And I wanted to collect the pearls but...I doubt I’d have any use for a stuffed animal. Especially since my sisters aren’t here for me to give it to...”