tampered | log; ongoing

Current Mood: calm

log; ongoing

When; NOW. April 16th, evening.
Rating; ...Uh. PG-13? Only for Ichigo's mouth.
Characters; Kurosaki Ichigo [

strawberried] and Kuchiki Rukia [

frigidwarsong]
Summary; Ichigo is stupid, there's a curse going on, and chaos ensues. Does chaos lead to something more? PROTIP: Yes.
Log;

Ichigo should've been used to this shit by now. He should've been used to these twisted curses, and he should've been used to having his words warped and turned into the snafu he was currently in. Stuck to Rukia. All day. And not the good kind of stuck.

Unfortunately, for all the times things like this had happened to him before, he'll never be used to it, not really, and while he'd learned to ignore ignore ignore certain things--and he was getting damn good at it--this extended proximity to Rukia really wasn't doing anything for his denial. Anything at all.

They'd come to a reluctant ceasefire earlier in the day, after the fifteenth argument over whose fault this was (his) and how much of an idiot he was (a big one), and now, Ichigo could only count down to the end of the day. And occasionally take a punch to the face. But he was, sadly, used to that, if nothing else.

Sighing--huffing--he looked over at Rukia, sitting as far away from him as the curse allowed, then glanced up at the clock. Only a few more hours to go.

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Rukia had stopped fuming, at the very least, but every once in a while she would attempt to move further away from him, only to be forcibly yanked back. It was wonderful. She had kept her mind carefully blank unless insulting Ichigo or Renji for the majority of the day, because not thinking was much better than the alternative. Denial was much easier to deal with than the implications of any feelings she might (might) have for him.

But the sound of him sighing made her glance back, an eyebrow raised. "Now what?"

"Nothing," he snapped, crossing his arms, the picture of self-righteous indignation. He noticed the way she kept moving away and away and away, only to be pulled back, and it was pissing him off. Was he that horrible to be around? Granted, he didn't really want to be around her right now, but that wasn't the point.

The point was, she was avoiding him. Obviously avoiding him, which somehow made the situation ten times worse. He wasn't sure if he meant that thought in the immediate sense or the broader one, the sense that included how she knew about them and hadn't said a goddamn word about it in weeks.

Probably both. And that only pissed him off more.

The entire situation was maddening, and the way he was acting only made it that much worse. He was so obviously lying, and it frustrated her enough to make her turn to face him. "What? Something's the matter, so say it."

He was such a child.

The child only scowled and turned away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Eye contact meant letting Rukia read him, and letting Rukia read him meant a lot of other things he wasn't ready for. Who knows what she would see.

"You're a bitch, that's what," he grumbled. It came out a little more petulantly than he'd meant it to, but at least he hadn't said something like you're the matter or you're driving me fucking crazy or the million other equally lame things he was thinking. And had a habit of blurting out.

He was still lying, and Rukia couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes. "We've established that, Ichigo," she responded, turning away again, arms recrossed. Really, this would be so much easier if he tried to be mature. It would be easier if she was better at denying.

Now she glanced at the clock, tapping her foot against the floor softly. The quicker she could get away from him, the quicker she could continue to pretend nothing was bothering her.

He tried to ignore her. He tried hard. Stretched out his legs and shook the sleep from his feet, then crossed them again. Scratched the back of his head. Glared at the clock. Scowled.

"Stop ignoring me." A habit of blurting things out like that. Wincing, he hunched down, hoping she wasn't looking his way. Hoping she wouldn't take that like he'd meant it.

Of course she took it seriously. She turned again to look at him over her shoulder, head slightly cocked. "Ignoring you? I'm not." Rukia was playing dumb, and it was obvious. "There isn't much for us to talk about." She winced inwardly at her horrible attempt at a lie, crossing her arms more tightly.

She was looking his way. He could feel it. And somehow, it made it even worse that she was lying to him, was playing dumb, was perfectly content with pretending the whole thing never happened. And that, that made him angry, angrier than he'd been in a long time.

Bristling, he turned to face her--confront her--slamming a fist down on the sheets, though it didn't have that satisfying thump he was hoping for.

"There's a lot to talk about! You--" he faltered, growled, leaned in closer without thinking "--you know, and you haven't said a goddamn word about it!"

Rukia barely even twitched at his sudden aggression. She stayed where she was, gazing at him levelly. There was no real way for her to play dumb when he was saying something like that. "What do you want me to say, Ichigo? There's nothing to say."

That was simply a bold-faced lie. There was more than enough to say - she would just rather not say any of it.

Shit, he hated when she did that, acted all calm while he was flipping his shit. It was just such a Rukia thing to do, to piss him off in so many ways she didn't even intend some of them, and sometimes he wondered why the hell he would fall for someone like her, who made him as angry as she made him happy. Who was so infuriatingly, irresistably herself right now that he couldn't even summon words.

So he frowned and closed the suddenly smaller distance between them, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers. Now, she didn't have to say anything, and neither did he.

Rukia didn't react at all. At least, not at first. But before she could stop herself, she was leaning forward and kissing him back, hand reaching out to rest on his arm almost guiltily, body tensing.

That was all Ichigo needed, a small touch, however reluctant--because as much as he'd never admit it, he needed approval, encouragement, especially from her--and before he could even think about what he was doing, he reached out, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, and pulled her closer.

He was kissing her. He was kissing her, again, and all he could really think about was how familiar this feeling was, and how much he'd missed it.

And then it hit her: She was kissing him. Rukia hesitated, tightening her grip on his arm, unable to keep herself from kissing him just a little harder before she managed to make herself pull away. It was much more difficult than it should have been, and she chided herself for it guiltily as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

For a moment, Ichigo thought she was--but that might've been too much to hope for as she pulled back, pulled away (and away and away), and it left him reeling slightly, in more ways than one. He blinked and reclaimed his hand, staring at her with wide eyes for a moment, two, three, before finding his voice.

"Rukia?" Except it wasn't really a question, because he knew what she was doing now, just like she'd done before, and fuck if it didn't still sting a little, even with experience and half-expectation to cushion the blow.

"This is ridiculous," she responded softly, a vague, desperate note entering her voice. She'd planned on simply ignoring it, ignoring everything - but of course Ichigo had to throw everything into shades of gray. Rukia moved as far away as the curse would allow, hating the hurt look on his face and hating herself for being unable to fix it.

"It's not--" He cut himself off as she scooted away, hating the pleading tone coming out of his mouth--but she'd retreated a little too far, and he found himself being dragged towards her, just a few inches, but the irony tasted just as bitter. After a pause, he swallowed and tried again, forcing something more firm, more sure into his voice.

"Rukia, don't do this."

"Do what? Act sensible?" She was fiddling with the hem of her dress, wrapping it in her hand and around her fingers. She knew, even as the words left her mouth, that she was most certainly not being sensible, and that even Ichigo would be able to see that quite clearly. A human having feelings for a shinigami was one thing, but a shinigami reciprocating and acting on those feelings was quite another. And, as usual, it was her job to be the responsible one, no matter how it made her feel.

She was doing it again. Again, and it raised his hackles, made him feel older than his eighteen years. How many times would he have this argument? How many times would they start, pause, rewind, start again? But something like that would never stop him, not when he'd fought worse and won, even if it made him feel tired at times like this, more tired than any other battle he'd fought before.

"It's not sensible, it's--stupid," he spat, hands fisting tightly in the sheets. "I know you're a shinigami, I know you're dead, I know you live in Soul Society, I know all that shit! And I don't fucking care."

Her head shot up, eyes narrowing as she studied him. Of course he'd known exactly what she was thinking - she'd been here before, apparently, been with him, even if she remembered none of it. Rukia fought, for a moment, to force the tension to leave her body, giving up almost immediately. "One of us needs to care," she reprimanded, tone much more harsh than she'd expected it to be.

And it was tiring - almost everything that dealt with Ichigo was tiring, because he constantly forced her to re-evaluate herself, her beliefs. But she would stand strong on this.

There it went. The wall between them. Ichigo could practically see her building it, as if disappearing behind obstinance and good intentions and principles and all the things they drilled into her in the Kuchiki house would make everything better again. Would make everything make sense.

Someplace sensible in his brain, he knew that this would be fighting an uphill battle--a vertical battle, really--but he was just as stubborn as she was, if not more. Scowling, he retaliated with, "That shit, none of that matters. If you--" If she what, Ichigo? If you feel the same way I do.

"If I what, Ichigo?" Obstinance and principles were not the issue - it was common sense. "For all intents and purposes," she continued, forcing herself to face him just a bit more, to sound firm and final. "You are telling me you have feelings for a ghost. And you find nothing wrong with this? No problems?" Rukia shook her head, crossing her arms once more. "Not only that, we are in the middle of a war. We may never see each other again after." That wasn't necessarily true, she knew. He was one of the strongest shinigami aligned with Soul Society. There was no way they'd give him up that easily.

"If you--" No matter how many times he did this, it was still hard. It went against everything he taught himself after his mom died. "For me," he finished quietly, completely skipping over the verb and hoping, desperately hoping she caught it anyway, that he didn't have to verbalize it. It was bad enough that he had to look away when she said feelings, averting his gaze even as he frowned.

"I don't care about that," he replied stubbornly, though his voice still had that soft quality.

She let out a bitter bark of a laugh and shook her head, looking away again. "This is ridiculous," she repeated, looking frustrated, but very pointedly not answering his question. "You should care, idiot."

"I don't!" he insisted, turning a hard gaze on her. He was sick of her always always always telling him what to do, like she knew better. Like he was a child who couldn't be trusted with his own feelings.

"Even if we go home and something happens--or you have to go back to Soul Society--or whatever," he growled, leaning forward again. "It doesn't matter. I--"

To be honest, he confused her, and she couldn't help but let out a rather weak, "Why?" He was so stubborn, so annoying, but she didn't move away when he moved closer, simply tried to look intimidating.

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