412So this little plot bunny came to me the other day and I just couldn't resist writing it down. I've written Bleach fan fiction before but never anything quite like this so I'm interested to see how this story goes! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I'm just going to use this as a disclaimer for this chapter and all subsequent chapters as well. I don't own Bleach. Tite Kubo does. Simple as that.
Ichigo Kurosaki stirred in his king-sized bed fitted with the silkiest and most expensive sheets money could buy. Beams of light from the oversized window across the room caused the young, orange-haired man to squint as his eyelids creaked open. The light flooded his eyes and triggered the pounding in his head, which he recognized all too well.
Damn. I thought I had gotten better at preventing hangovers, the young man thought to himself as his mind tried to adjust to his surroundings, pounding harshly against his skull as it did. Ichigo grasped his forehead in pain and sat up in his bed. Thank goodness he had had enough sense while he was drunk to come back to his own bedroom. The young man had woken up in one too many foreign beds after a night of partying for his liking.
He turned his head to the side to find an all too familiar sight. A woman. Naked. Asleep. In his bed.
Ichigo sighed. Not again. How many times had he gone out with friends to have a little fun on the weekends only to find himself waking up next to some blonde bimbo with a pounding headache?
Too many times.
It wasn't that Ichigo didn't enjoy having some fun with beautiful, strange girls. In fact, it was one of his favorite things to do now that his job as a CEO of a multibillion-dollar company had become so demanding. His crazy lifestyle on the weekends was his only way to relieve the stress that was accumulating from work.
He just hated the morning after these little escapades. It was just so awkward. Ichigo wasn't very good with verbal confrontation (physical he could deal with just fine) and therefore having to tell some poor, confused woman that he wasn't interested in getting to know her any more than he already did and that she should just leave was a difficult task for him.
Sometimes it wasn't that bad and the woman would blush, gather her stuff, and dash away, never to be seen again. Sometimes it was very bad and he would have to deal with crazy stalker girls who would like nothing more than to be Mrs. Kurosaki.
And when that happened, it just got ugly.
Ichigo wondered what kind of morning after this girl would turn out to be. His memory from the night before was foggy, but he recalled her being a nice enough girl. Maybe she would just be embarrassed to be caught having a one night stand with a famous millionare and get the hell out of his house.
He sincerely hoped that she wasn't going to be like the other crazy stalkers. Ichigo had had to file one too many restraining orders in his day. As much as people would think otherwise, being one of the most eligible bachelors in Tokyo was hard sometimes.
Ichigo quietly slipped out, trying not to disturb the buxom blonde in his bed. He tiptoed over to one of his drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and jeans. He slipped them on before walking out of his bedroom and into his spacious penthouse apartment overlooking the beautiful city of Tokyo.
As much of a jerk as he knew it would make him, Ichigo wished he could just get dressed and go to work, leaving the one night stand in his bed to fend for herself. His maid was supposed to come over today so maybe he could ask her to escort the young lady out and tell her to never come back.
Ichigo groaned. He really was an asshole, wasn't he?
But what else could he do? Being in a relationship was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He didn't have time to run a huge, global company and worry about a girlfriend simultaneously. His love life was on the backburner as his company, Kurosaki Corporations, was thriving.
And since Ichigo was a young man in his late twenties, he had needs. Sexual needs. That very much needed to be fulfilled. So that only left drunken one night stands. There wasn't any other option for him.
But, if he tried to explain that to most women, they would scoff in disgust, possibly leaving their handprint on his face. Then again, he was Ichigo Kurosaki. Prodigy of the business world. Millionaire. Eligible bachelor. He had women throwing themselves at him everywhere he went.
He glanced at the clock on the oven in his kitchen and groaned. 9:45 a.m. He was late. Again. His secretary was going to kick his ass when he got to the Kurosaki Corp headquarters.
He sighed. He really had no other choice. He couldn't wait for the stranger in his bed to wake up so he quietly walked back into his room and changed into his business suit. He freshened up in the adjoined master bathroom, grabbed his briefcase and cell phone, and left his apartment without a word.
Karma was going to kick his ass for that one.
"I need two medium, nonfat vanilla lattes and a small caramel frappucino, please!" the young, raven-haired woman yelled to anyone who would listen. She hated having to work the morning shift. She was constantly running around, hardly having a moment to breathe, let alone do anything else. People sure loved their coffee in the morning.
"Rukia! Can you pour a large regular coffee, please?" Rukia Kuchiki's best friend and coworker, Orihime Inoue, called from the register she was currently standing behind.
"Sure thing!" Rukia yelled back as she put down the blender she was currently pouring ingredients into, grabbed the large coffee pot, poured a sufficient amount into the large cardboard cup, and set it on the pickup counter.
"One large regular coffee," she yelled as the customer came over and picked up his drink, not even stopping to say thank you. Rukia rolled her eyes and got back to making her other drink. So typical of the rich, snobby people living in one of Tokyo's nicest areas. Just her luck she would get a job at the coffeehouse with customers who were the most stuck up and rude people in the entire city.
Rukia wanted to work at the quaint bookstore a few blocks from her apartment but she didn't even get an interview when she applied. She didn't get an interview anywhere except here. The coffee shop that her best friend and roommate worked at. Orihime had busted her back to get Rukia this job so she tried to remind herself to be more appreciative, but she couldn't deny how much she hated working here. Especially in the morning.
Rukia began to blend the frappuccino she was working on with practiced skill. She poured the drink into a plastic cup, squirted a bit of whipped cream on top, and set it on the counter.
"One nonfat, vanilla frappuccino with soymilk and extra vanilla!" Rukia called out, trying her best to disguise the disdain she had for whoever would order such a complicated drink. When the blonde women wearing a designer track suit, carrying an overpriced bag, and sporting a rock the size of a pumpkin on her finger walked up to the counter to retrieve the drink, Rukia just knew what would happen next.
"Excuse me, did you use soymilk? I specifically asked for soymilk," the women asked Rukia, her voice filled with condescension. This woman thought she was so high and mighty because she had money and Rukia didn't. It made her blood boil.
"Yes ma'am, I did," Rukia answered, her voice straining to hide her anger.
"And the vanilla. I asked for extra vanilla."
"Mm-hmm," Rukia answered through clenched teeth as she began to make the next drink on her list.
"I didn't want a ton of extra vanilla. Just a little bit. Did you put too much in it?"
"I can't be the judge of that ma'am. Why don't you taste it and see if it's to your liking," Rukia said, plastering the best fake smile on her face she could manage.
The woman sipped the drink and immediately recoiled in disgust. "Ugh, yep that's way too much. I only want a few extra drops," she said as she handed the drink back to Rukia.
A few extra drops. This woman was so particular about how she wanted her stupid frappucino to be that she could taste the difference in a few extra drops of vanilla. Rukia wanted to scream.
Stupid, stuck up, snobby housewives who have nothing better to do than play tennis with their friends and order ridiculously particular coffee drinks all day long.
Rukia hated them. It was stupid rich people like that woman that were the reason she had this horrible job to begin with.
She used to be very wealthy herself. Well, she wasn't wealthy but her adoptive brother was. Byakuya Kuchiki was the owner of a large company until one of his business partners tricked him into signing a horrible deal that caused the company to go bankrupt. Thankfully her brother wasn't also arrested and sent to jail, but he was still poor and homeless, living with one of his other business partners and desperately trying to get his company back off the ground.
It was an impossible task though. It had been a year and a half since he had declared bankruptcy and nothing had changing.
When it happened, Rukia was in her second year of college. She had already moved away from her brother and was technically out on her own, but her brother still funded all of her expenses. When Byakuya lost all of his money, Rukia was forced to take out loans to pay for her college education, sell all of her expensive clothes and possessions, and move in with her best friend. She was living completely off of the money she earned at the coffee shop until she could graduate and get a real job and it hadn't been easy. She was making practically nothing right now.
That's why women like the complicated drink order one bugged her so much. They were completely oblivious to the harshness of living in the real world. They had no idea what it was like to have to work your ass off just to pay the bills. All they had to do was look pretty so some rich, old guy could come along and slide a big diamond ring on their finger.
It was disgusting.
As Rukia angrily remade the women's frappucino (with only a few extra drops of vanilla), the door to the coffee shop opened and immediately all women present stopped what they were doing to stare at the man who had just walked in. All except Rukia, of course.
A hush fell over the coffeehouse as women ogled and men eyed jealously. Rukia looked up to see what was going on when her eyes came across a tall young man with amber eyes and the most obnoxiously orange hair.
Rukia rolled her eyes. Just what she needed. She knew exactly who the man was. Everyone in the coffee shop knew who he was.
Ichigo Kurosaki. Tokyo's most eligible (and rich) bachelor. Rukia could practically see the fantasies running through every woman's mind. Heck, even some of the older ladies, who were clearly there with a significant other, eyed the young man hungrily.
Rukia watched as Ichigo approached the counter, cutting everyone in line (though it looked like none of them cared), and walked right up to her best friend, who looked as though she was about to pass out.
"Hi," Ichigo said, flashing Orihime a sexy smile. Rukia wondered if she would have to catch her best friend when she blacked out.
"H-H-Hi," Orihime stammered in response, completely entranced with the man in front of her.
"Can I get a large, black coffee, please?" he asked her, still giving her that unbelievable smile. Rukia narrowed her eyes. What a jerk. Flirting just to see a young girl drool all over him. And not just any young girl. Rukia's best friend.
"S-Sure," Orihime said as she rang up the total.
Ichigo laid a large bill on the counter and said, "Keep the change." He winked at Orihime and walked over to where Rukia was standing behind the pick up counter to wait for her to pour him his coffee.
Rukia rolled her eyes. So typical of him to pay with a large bill just to let everyone in the shop know he had money. As if they didn't already know that just by looking at him.
Rukia angrily grabbed a coffee cup and poured the pretentious snob his drink. She put the lid on the cup and marched over to the counter.
Ichigo was leaning against the counter with his elbows resting on top, staring at her. Rukia returned his stare with a glare of her own and slammed the cup down on top of the counter. "Here," she said with an angry grunt.
Ichigo gave Rukia the same smile he gave Orihime and chuckled at her feisty attitude. "Thanks," he said not even slightly fazed by Rukia's death glare. He stood up to his full height, picked up his drink, and left the coffeehouse as everyone watched him.
Rukia, however, didn't fail to notice his eyes lingering on her, and only her, as he left the shop.
She shook her head. What a jerk! He thought he was so smooth, didn't he? Guys like that made Rukia's blood boil. She angrily got back to mixing drinks, not noticing all the women in the coffeehouse eyeing her with sheer disbelief.
So, what do you think? Should I continue? I'm always open to constructive criticism as I am still learning so don't hesitate to drop a review! Or just drop one to tell me what you thought :) Those things keep me writing!
