64AN: Sooo I had to take some time away from my story "A Lifetime With You" mostly because it was difficult writing something as emotionally conflicting as that little number. It's draining, trying to balance out my wants and others' as well because, as much as I write for myself, I'd be lying if I said that other people's opinions didn't matter to me to some extent. Their perspectives give me new ways to write my chapters and improve my storytelling overall. But, since it's the holiday season and I wanted fluff for Christmas, this came out. Originally for HitsuKarin, I realized that Ichigo/Rukia would make this short piece a little more interesting and thus they are my main couple (for the first time! Exciting, no?). :)
I hope that everyone reads and enjoys. There is another part, maybe two (if you're a fan of my works, then you know how long my chapters are and how bad I am at sticking with word limits, haha). Please read, review, favorite and alert! Makes my day a little brighter.
Part One: Music and Meetings
Kuchiki Rukia was normal in the all the worst possible ways.
For starters, she was a small, Japanese girl, but she wasn't what people would call 'normal short.' In actuality, she was so small that even middle school kids would mistake her for one of their own. It made her want to harm certain minors, but law clearly stated that nineteen-year-olds did not hurt small children and get away unscathed. So she bit her tongue around those chortling little boys, silently wishing for whatever retribution Kami thought fitting.
Secondly, she was a common college student with no money and debts up to her ears. Despite coming from a well-to-do family, Rukia was anything but spoiled. Early on, she was taught she'd never be waited on by servants simply because they had the means for it. No, the wonderful people that adopted her were as pragmatic as they were wealthy and thus she learned to earn her keep, much like her older brother? Byakuya had funded his way through law school with a combination of scholarships, loans and numerous odd jobs. How he found time to eat, sleep and study was nothing short of awe-inspiring, as he graduated with honors at the end. Unfortunately, his perfection was genetic,so she hadn't been born with such luck. While highly intelligent and capable, her wits wouldn't stand against his genius, and it'd been a hard pill to swallow, knowing that she would have to live up to the Kuchiki namesake.
And, finally, she was average in just about everything else. She was pretty, but not what one would call a great beauty. She was pleasantly fit and slender, but without the womanly curves her friends seemed to have in spades. And while she was rather talented at sports like kendo and martial arts, she couldn't seem to produce anything artistic or innovative other than her masterful pieces of Chappy the Bunny. Obviously, she had only been born with everything in moderation, and it was a pity that the world she resided in was preoccupied with everyone's lives outside their own. She hated those judging eyes whenever her parents forced her to attend a fundraiser or gala, smiling through sweet insults and holding back a rather sarcastic response to save face for her (as they so aptly put it) 'common breeding.'
Perhaps that was why she continued to work part-time in a small music store, the pay meager and the actual work almost non-existent. She chose days that suited her schedule and non-busy times so she could essentially get paid for doing homework. Honestly, Rukia only wanted to rebel a little, show them that their words meant little. She had her pride, after all.
And today was one of those average days, as she sat at the counter, notebook laid across the table and papers sprawled alongside it. Biting the top of her pen, she was doing her best to finish her physics homework, scratching the back of her head before it dropped forward in surrender. She seriously hated general ed classes. She wanted to be a social worker and help people, not figure out how much work a box on a ramp does when applied with how-many Newtons of force.
Sighing dejectedly, she leaned back in her stool, stretching her arms up and scanning the empty store. Despite the fact that the little music shop was on a fairly popular street, there weren't many customers during her shift. To be honest, it didn't have many visitors other than its regulars and desperate gift seekers who went anywhere to find something particularly elusive. One could tell from the outside that this specific place wasn't made for the masses who liked their idols and pop singers. Instead, it tended to lean towards more alternative music and punk rock, genres that were pushed to the edges of major record shops. However, her manager, Urahara Kisuke, had a penchant for just about anything non-mainstream, and so this store was born from that whim. How he kept it open in spite of the modest sales was a complete mystery to her.
So here she was, all alone and likely to go without a buyer until the day ended. She was closing at nine o'clock but it was only five. Rukia had plenty of time to waste and not nearly enough to do. Despite her assignment, she'd be done within the hour with little else to distract her. Maybe she'd clean. Her parents had always told her she would go stir-crazy as a child, but nowadays she thought of it more along the lines of adult ADHD. If she didn't do something, she'd be driven nuts by the quiet.
Trying to bring herself to finish the problems, Rukia took a drincrazy re soda and flipped through her notes. Honestly, all she needed to know was that she'd stay rooted to the ground by gravity and that there would always be friction in the universe to prevent random slip and slides. Nothing else was really of importance.
But her thoughts were soon interrupted by a figure coming through the front door, bells jingling in welcome. Lifting her head and greeting the customer, her voice was cut off a little at the end, as she eyed the suspicious character.
The other was tall, masculine in stance despite his entire self covered. His was face hiding in the shadow of his black sweater, the hood pulled over despite the warm weather outside. His hands were shoved into his pockets and, if she wasn't mistaken, a large pair of expensive looking sunglasses were perched on his nose. The entirety of him was decidedly out of place in the fluorescent lighting.
Who the hell does this guy think he is? she wondered, frowning and watching him stride about the shelves. His moves were purposeful and precise. Within minutes he was at the register, her schoolwork still spread recklessly across it. She wondered what he thought of her work area, but his persistent scowl gave nothing away.
"Did you find everything okay, sir?" she asked, smiling in her 'customer service' way as she took his CD. Not being able to help herself, she noticed he had picked an indie rock group that she herself was quite fond of. "Ah, I have this! It's really good. I got it when it was first released last year. I highly recommend track three, especially if you—"
"Could you please just ring this up?" the stranger growled, his lips turning even deeper. She hadn't thought it was possible, but it seemed that common courtesy wasn't common as she thought. Unfortunately for him, she was hardly a pushover; where another person would turn away or apologize, she confronted the other with her own hardheadedness.
"I know I might be some girl working as a cashier, sir, but you have no right to speak down to me." He was at least a foot taller than her, and yet she managed to hold herself so she looked much larger. "Besides, coming from a guy who seems like he's about to rob the store, couldn't you at least make some small talk? Even a nod would do."
"Look, kid, I know high school is tough, but you shouldn't be lecturing someone on etiquette when you're not exactly being a great pleasant person yourself."
"Did you just call me a 'high schooler'?" Her voice was deceptively even, but her anger was noticeable to anyone with eyes. Unfortunately, the man in front of her seemed to be blinded by his own glasses.
"Aren't you? You're like, this big." He made a space with his thumb and index finger a centimeter apart.
Her eyebrow twitched for a moment, just before her patience bit the dust. "How dare you assume you know anything about me!"
He seemed to understand how insulted she was—though it was too late now—and took two back steps defensively. "I've met a lot of assholes in my lifetime, buddy, but not one of them has ever been as stupid as you! You stride in here, dressed in black and looking like a douchebag, and then demand service when I'm already giving you a smile. Who do you think you are? Just because that attitude might get things done with other people, it won't work on those of us who have at least half a brain, you jerk!"
Taking the CD and cash, she opened and closed the register in record time, shoved the change into a plastic bag and threw it at the other's form. He let out an indignant yell, opening his mouth to say something bdrop nought better of it.
Rukia couldn't help but give her 'well wishes' on his way out. "And don't come back until you've learned to be a decent human being, asshole!"
It was two weeks after the incident with the 'hooded weirdo', as Rukia so delicately put it, and eventually she'd forgotten it for the most part. On occasion, it would peek into her head, remembering his presence in the silence of the store. She hadn't thought there was a Japanese person who didn't have an ounce of good will for others. Obviously she sat among the minority of youth.
With her literature homework now taking up the counter, she read diligently, trying to fill in the gaps in the book's plot. It wasn't difficult reading, but her professor's questions were always in-depth and required analyzing that was beyond normal. She'd never understand how that old man worked. But then the chiming of the bell was heard, as she greeted the visitor with her nose half-buried in her text.
"For someone who preaches good manners, you use yours sparingly."
Shooting up so fast it gave her whiplash, Rukia looked at a familiar face. Well as familiar as he could be, since it was covered with those over-sized sunglasses again. It made her glower harder.
"And I see you still get dressed in the dark," she replied, eyeing him with condescension she was known for. Happily she noticed how it got to him so easily.
"Look, I didn't come here for this," he replied, shuffling awkwardly in place. He didn't look particularly nervous but was still antsy, as if he needed to get in and out as quickly as possible.
"Oh really? Then tell me, sir, what is it you've come for?" Sarcasm dripped from the title.
"God, you're frustrating…" he muttered before pulling something out of his pocket and placing it on the counter. Looking at it, she raised her brows at the album from the band she had been talking about last time. Squinting at it, she deemed it foreign. But the second she got a good look at its cover, Rukia screamed.
"This is their fourth album!" She jumped up and down, fingering the casing before looking over the song list. When she realized what she was fangirling, Rukia calmed down enough to reign in the volume of her voice. "But I was sure that this didn't come out for another month…"
Putting her excitement aside, she eyed the man carefully, distrustfully. Despite the olive branch, Rukia still wasn't conwasted about his intentions. What would a guy like him be doing with something as rare as this?
"Don't give me that," he snapped. "Look, I know some people that know some people. Let's leave it at that."
"And why, pray tell, would you bring it here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he said it with heat, but there was more color in his face than his words. For all his covering, he was surprisingly transparent under the right circumstances. It eased some of her restlessness.
"I see…" She felt the edges of her lips lift, actually meaning the smile. "Well, thanks. This was really nice of you." And while she knew it would have been best to accept the CD and let him leave, something was still nagging her as she assessed his appearance. She just couldn't help the question that fell from her lips next. "Why are you dressed like a hoodlum whenever I see you?"
"… Did you really just ask me that?" His voice wasn't particularly emotional, but there was a sigh of exasperation there. Eyes widening, she finally registered what left her mouth and began to apologize, bowing and blushing hotly.
"I'm sorry! I mean, I didn't- I hadn't meant that the way it sounded!"
"Yeah, yeah, it's fine." He waved it away, shaking his head. Her heart fell as she realized he was trying to be the nice guy here and let her off the hook. It made the guilt gnaw at her insides.
"Look, please, let me make it up to you," she offered, unconsciously leaning over the counter to grab his sleeve. He looked over at her, his amusement over her earnestness hidden behind the reflective lenses.
"Look, it's okay, um…"
"Rukia. Kuchiki Rukia," she said, loosening her fingers when he didn't pull away, sliding back across the counter. Really, she needed to remember to wear higher shoes because she had trouble feeling for the tile.
"Rukia, then," he nodded, using her first name without her consent. She would've corrected him, but had the distinct feeling he'd ignore her. "I just came here to say I'm sorry, you know, for being a jerk last week. I'm not the nicest person, but that time was really bad. So don't worry about it and let's just call us even."
"Okay," she agreed, smiling softly at him. He gave her a wave, moving towards the door again, when she called out to him.
"Hey! I never got your name."
He stopped and paused for a moment, as if thinking about a proper response She stared at him hard, frowning at his silence. What was so difficult about a name? She'd given hers without hesitation, but he held onto his like a well-kept secret. It seemed entirely unfair. But finally, after a minute of silence, he answered.
"You can call me Kurosaki."
And then he was gone.
For the next week, Rukia was bothered by the 'music store stranger' (as she now had dubbed him) and his underwhelming exit. She'd stewed and steamed and fretted over it, restless to know who he was. She'd met few people in her life that had introduced himself so rudely and then changed her opinion of him as this 'Kurosaki' did. And if there was anything that bothered Rukia more than a bad pop song on an otherwise great day, it was a mystery that went unsolved.
So she waited, since it was the only 'logical' thing to do. Wait for the no-faced guy who was strangely sweet and sour and a bunch of other objectives she had yet to figure out. Not that she wanted to, of course. She was merely trying to satisfy this hunger in her head, nothing more and nothing less.
But it was a rather useless way to pass her time. He didn't show up the next day or the following week, until nearly a month went by without seeing neither hide nor hair of him. It was a frustrating thing to linger at the end of her shift and show up early to a surprised Urahara-san, who remarked her punctuality was border-lining obsessive-compulsive. And while she took the comment with a laugh and scratch of her head, her inner self was seething. No man had ever left Kuchiki Rukia in such a state. He would pay when she saw him. Not 'if' but 'when' because she didn't believe in coincidences, and their rather bizarre start was certainly nothing if not fate.
By this time, the day was now long passed its dawn, her shift also drawing to a close. For once, none of her documents were littering the counter, her boredom palpable. And it was yet another day without the mysterious stranger, which made her even more irritable than usual. She ended up cursing one of her good friends over the phone over something trivial, and wasn't particularly pleasant to any of the few customers she'd had, despite her hardest efforts to be civil.
Urahara had attempted to send her home early, for his own sake as well as hers, but she refused. How pathetic would she seem if she couldn't hold down one lousy job? Reluctantly, the sandal-clad owner decided to leave the store in her hands after a rather persuasive speech from her. Both of them knew he was slightly terrified of angry-without-reason Rukia and departed to save his own neck. At least both parties were eelatively happy in the end.
About fifteen minutes until nine, she began to do her rounds, checking windows and doors, as well as cleaning the few messes that had occurred. Very little was moved and inventory had been done in the late afternoon when it was busier, so there was really nothing else to do other than close shop. As she gathered her things in the back and grabbed the key from a hook in the office, she sighed to herself in a melancholy sort of way.
While Rukia knew she had no right to be disappointed, she was. It felt like rejection, and it perturbed her that she was so easily knocked off balance by a random guy. Her friends would never let her live it down if they knew, so she made a note to never tell them, no matter how much it was eating at her. As she made sure to lock the office, she moved back towards the front but halted when she came across a familiar silhouette.
"Hey, Rukia. Long time no see," the Music Store Stranger said, waving his hand a bit and looking as awkward as she felt. Suddenly, all that old, diffused anger was back in her system, and this time it brought company.
"You!" She pointed at him accusingly, one hand preventing the bag on her shoulder from falling while her face contorted into something dark. It must have been quite a sight because he stumbled back a step, looking sheepish in spite of his hidden face. Damn him, didn't he own any other clothing? "Why the hell are you here? Better yet, what took you so long?"
"'Took me so long'?" he repeated, confusion evident in his voice. Rukia nearly blushed, the comment giving too much away. She sputtered back in retaliation.
"I mean, you haven't been here at all. I assumed you'd become a regular." That's right, business, Kuchiki, business. She'd never been a great liar, but he didn't know that. Besides, this Kurosaki character didn't seem too bright to begin with.
"I don't think twice is enough to assume anything." Ah, she loved being right. Men were so easy, especially the obnoxiously dressed, arrogan ones.
"We even exchanged names. Forgive me if that means something to some people," she argued, but then realized her mistake. She had introduced herself, but not necessarily the other way around. And then it brought a completely different thought. "Hey, why are you here so late anyway?"
"I can't stop by when I feel like it?"
"Of course, but you should probably 'feel like it' during the hours between eight AM and nine PM. You're delaying my dinner."
"Ah, is that so?" He shuffled, looking almost nervous as he fidgeted. "Then maybe I should come back…"
"No!" Rukia cringed at her voice, sounding much too desperate, as if she'd been waiting for him. And even if she had been, she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing it. So she evened out her tone, demonstrating that almost sugar-sweet lilt she like to use to fake her way out of something. "I mean, no, you're here now. You should finish whatever it is that you want. I mean, who knows the next time we'll be able to meet?"
"Okay, first things first, stop talking like that. It's creeping me out," he started, lips turning into a frown. "Your Japanese went from totally normal to some odd mix between the kind used in historical dramas and grossly polite. And that tone? Weirdest shit ever."
"Coming from the guy who only dresses in hoodies and sunglasses when there's no sun pretty much means your opinion doesn't matter!" she retaliated, letting go of her civility and going straight for the throat. "Besides, you didn't even have the decency to tell me your whole name the last time you were here! And you have the audacity to call me weird? Pfft."
They engaged in a staring match, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously despite her sweet face. It annoyed her that all she could see was herself reflected back. A part of her wanted to punch him so the glasses would fall off, not to mention give her a bit of satisfaction.
"Look, this is stupid." He startled her out of the silence, hand reaching back as if to run it through his hair. But when he came across his hood, it seemed to only irritate him further. "I only came here to see if you wanted to go with me to this."
He produced two tickets that she took, reading over the characters curiously. As she recognized what they were, her eyes began to widen, her mouth falling open in surprise and eventually spreading across her face with glee.
"This is- When did- How did you get these?" she stammered ove herself, as she fought the need to bounce on her heels.
"I know a guy" was his only response. In her hands were tickets to Death to the Party's private club tour, the band they'd been discussing his last two visits. While the group was proudly and very much indie, their following was fierce enough that tickets to their events sold out as fast as any major idol group's, though the venues were much smaller. She had been trying to get tickets to one of their gigs, but had come out empty-handed too many times. And now here they were, presented in the most peculiar fashion, and she was ecstatic.
"So… do you wanna go or not?" he asked, impatient because of her quiet mooning. She could only nod in acquiescence, her head bobbing so quickly that her neck started to hurt. But then she stopped, looked at the tickets and then the giver.
"I'll go... but only if you show me that face of yours."
"Do we really have to do this now?" he sighed, exasperated by her tenacity. For someone so short, she sure had a lot of spunk. Almost too much and certainly more than enough to get her in trouble.
"Yes, we do." The finality didn't go unnoticed.
If Rukia could see his features clearly, she'd find he had a rather pensive face on, unsure of his next move. But it was a legitimate request, especially since she'd have to see his face eventually. He just wasn't quite sure they could still be friends after seeing her reaction. Many former almost-friendships hadn't lasted because of it.
"Fine, but promise me," he warned, looking and sounding gravely serious, "that you won't hold it against me afterwards."
"Fine, fine." She didn't hesitate in the slightest. She'd seen some strange characters in her life, and their appearances matched them to a tee. Her best friend since childhood, Renji, had tattoos on his face, her professor, Ukitake-sensei, had long, bleached white hair that matched his sickly appearance and even her uptight, as-straight-laced-as-they-come brother Byakuya ran around with a floor-length scarf and some weird crimped hairpiece every day. There were few things in the world that could shock her appearance-wise. She had no doubt that he'd be no exception.
"All right…" he said, accepting of her brash insincerity. This girl didn't seem like the type for flowery words anyway. A little bit of sympathy probably would've been as awkward as her fake politeness.
Rukia watched as he pushed his head down, taking off the glasses and pocketing them thereafter. As she stared, something inside was telling her to hold her breath in anticipation, but she deemed it girly and over dramatic. This wasn't a play. He wasn't some prince who was going to sweep her off her feet and steal her away from her boring life. No, she was much too realistic and yet she could still feel the quick hammering of her heart as he lifted his hood and looked straight at her.
And Rukia was silent.
Rather than some deformed trait or the like, she looked into one of the single-most perfect faces she'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. The boy known as Kurosaki had an angled jaw that was perfectly tempered by infinitely high cheekbones. A pair of amber brown eyes was complimented by the shock of orange hair, the color much too clean and even to be unnatural. He certainly didn't look like a hoodlum or a thug, at least not in that conventional way. Though formidable, there was something incredibly endearing about him that counteracted his handsomeness. And somehow, she couldn't shake that fairytale music playing in her head.
"So, yeah…" was his response, reaching up to scratch his head with a downturn of his lips. He didn't make eye contact, but he looked to be waiting for a reaction. She wasn't sure what kind to give. So, she went her usual route.
"That's it?" Her voice dripped overconfidence, despite her frazzled nerves. But she wasn't going to freak out just because he was hot. If anything, this was the best possible scenario she could have gotten! She wasn't even sure why he was so worried to begin with.
"Whaddya mean 'that's it'?" he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I mean, you've played dress up three times now and you don't got anything even morbidly scarring, nor are you missing any important parts. What, should I be impressed?" Because I am, she thought, but fought it. Not the time or place for her hormones to take over.
"You don't, you know… know me?" His voice distressed the last two words and inwardly she panicked. Was she supposed to know him? Was he a guy in one of her classes or something? Wracking her brain for any piece of info, she was coming up blank. No, Rukia would have definitely remembered a face like his, if for no other reason than the fact that it was flawless and he was as model-esque in stature as they come. She was the type that was unwillingly weak to pretty boys.
"No… Should I?" Sounding as curious as she could, she hoped it would be enough to appease him. But she truly had no idea who this Kurosaki was, other than the guy who was as ill-mannered as he was adorable. It was a hard combination to forget.
Taking in his wide eyes and unhinged jaw, Rukia felt like the butt of a very un-funny joke. She took the defensive, pouting angrily and crossing her arms in front of her. It took him another second to regain his composure, but it came together without a thought, as if he was used to acting dignified in front of people he didn't know. It made her suspicious because she recognized that skill. She herself was a master of it.
"Well, Kurosaki, if you're just gonna be an asshole, then maybe we should forget this whole thing." It pained her to say the words, but she knew she couldn't hang out with a guy that thought she was insane. As much as she wanted to go to the live, she didn't like the idea of being in uncomfortable company or owing him a favor.
"No, I mean, sorry, Rukia. I was just expecting…" he stopped mid-sentence, and her heart skipped a bit at the sound of her name. Really, she needed a life if she was this easily riled. He couldn't have been much older than her, and yet she felt like a high school girl whenever he spoke it. Pathetic.
His thoughtful look seemed to transform into a determined one, his eyes hardening with a sureness she hadn't been expecting. "You know what, forget it. It's nothing. I was just being stupid."
When he met her eyes, this time they looked a little relieved and maybe just a bit silly with happiness. She wasn't sure what caused it, but the effect his stare had was potent. Her face was starting to heat and her heart was dancing rhythmic gymnastics in her chest, cart-wheeling happily. It was the sort of look that belonged on a face like his, the kind, almost innocent look that would cause most girls to fall to their knees.
"So, I'll see you next Saturday?" He interrupted her thoughts, as she shook her head from the haze. Focus, Kuchiki, focus. Do not shut down! Her mind yelled obscenities at her, as she grinned in agreement. He motioned a goodbye, placing his glasses back on and pulling the hood over his head. She almost called him out on it again before she realized she was missing something vital.
"Oi, Kurosaki!" she yelled, grabbing the door just as he began walking down the empty street. He turned back to her, head tilted in question. She almost blanched in embarrassment at the question she was about to ask. "What's your full name?"
He was silent at first, frowning, but then chuckled as he turned his back to her.
"Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo."
AN: Ahh, that was fun! I love boy-meets-girl kind of stories. They always feel a little fresh, no matter how many times it's used or how many scenarios are thought up. I hope you enjoyed! And for those who are wondering, there will be a tiny bit of HitsuKarin in the next part and most likely a ficlet featuring them after I finish this one. I am so easily swept aside by my OTP's. Haha!
Please review if you enjoyed. They feed my muses and make me smile. :)
