Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ ...at 375ºF Until Hell Freezes Over ❯ ...at 375ºF Until Hell Freezes Over ( Chapter 1 )

…at 375ºF Until Hell Freezes Over

by MiraResQNU

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters. Go find Tite Kubo, the true owner, and ask him- he'll say “Mira-who?”

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Tatsuki climbed the front steps of her boyfriend's house with trepidation, their explosive fight and resulting week-long silent standoff all but forgotten for the moment. Because she'd followed the thick scent of smoke from over a block away… and it had led straight to the other side of his front door.

 

With no mind for manners she pushed it open in search of the source, her reflexes poised and on full alert. The house was silent.

 

“Hello?!? Kurosaki's? I thought I smelled something burning from outside! Guys?!” Tatsuki's voice echoed through the living room and up the stairs. No one was home.

 

…Or so she thought. The sound of banging metal suddenly clanged from the kitchen. Someone was home and, judging from the thick cloud of smoke hanging just outside the kitchen door, on their way to burning the house down.

 

With a tentative push against the solid wood, she braced herself for whatever might lay on the other side. “Yuzu? Is that you? Your idiot broth- oooooh… my… God…”

 

The Kurosaki kitchen was a battle zone.

 

Every cabinet door hung ajar, every drawer tossed open, contents seemingly ransacked and pillaged. Every pot, pan and utensil the family owned was strewn haphazardly across all the countertops like abandoned artillery. Fine white powder coated every conceivable surface- the counters and appliances, the walls, the ceiling… It whited out the floor, save for numerous telltale bare footprints scattered frantically about. It even hung in the air, swirling with the smoke she'd smelled earlier. Globs of pale, red-flecked mash splattered the walls as well like exploded projectiles; unrecognizable bits of wet whatever-it-was dripped down them in places. On the stovetop rested the silent casualties of the morning, undoubtedly the source of the acrid charred smell. Their remains were humbly covered by Yuzu's pink and yellow dish towels. Apparently there had been no survivors.

 

Correction. A body bent over the open oven door suddenly stood up, and then blinked at the girl, apparently surprised by her presence. Orange hair, furrowed brows, and the culinary shrapnel from his day's activities coating the front of his shirt and jeans… “Babe? What're you…? Aww, you're gonna ruin the surprise!”

 

“Ichigo?!?” Surveying the damage surrounding her boyfriend Tatsuki's eyes inadvertently widened, “You… you… baked?”

 

He shrugged, the action raising the large round object balanced in his oven-mittened hands, “A pie,” he replied matter-of-factly. When he saw her eyes dart from his hands to the top of the stove he blushed under a face full of flour. “Uh… this was the only one that, um, made it.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh…” Maneuvering around several propped cabinet doors, Tatsuki carefully made her way deeper into the kitchen for a closer look, doubt clearly evident in her features.

 

Ichigo just smirked, lifting the hot, bubbling pastry in his hands up to her nose. “Just smell.”

 

Resisting the urge to retreat, she instead closed her eyes and bent forward hesitantly, taking a whiff, “Mmm…” Her eyes instantly popped open in amazement, “Apple?!”

 

His eyes danced with mirth, “Your favorite.”

 

For several moments she could only stare down speechless at the beautiful, golden-crusted, lovingly-crafted dessert under her nose. It was surreal. He'd remembered. And he'd done this- all by himself, if she read the mess surrounding them correctly. And he'd done it for her. She felt her vision misting over in the corners and decided not to blink. “But… w-why?” Her chin quivered without her permission.

 

He only shrugged again, “Like I need a reason.” She could tell he was trying to play it cool, but his nonchalance only irked her.

 

“But you baked!” Her voice threatened to crack. Didn't he understand the implications of what he'd done?

 

Ichigo sighed heavily, then turned away to set the pie on the counter; despite his delicacy he still managed to send utensils clanging to the flour-dusted floor. It was kind of ridiculous- sitting amidst the surrounding carnage, the lovely confection looked starkly out of place. Like the Mona Lisa hanging at a truck stop.

 

“Well… I guess I finally realized you were right- I haven't been fair to you, Tats.”

 

“Huh?” She'd forgotten that she'd asked him a question and that he was trying to answer it. After hearing his response, their fight from a week ago surfaced fresh in her mind. So that's what this was about…

 

He stared down at his dusty bare feet, shuffling little trails of flour to and fro across the tile with his toes as he spoke, “See… sometimes I do use you to get back to normal- to get away from all that other crazy stuff, all those obligations…”

 

As he said it, guilt instantly flooded her as she recalled her harsh words. She hadn't meant them- she didn't even care about that- but he'd been such a dick that day…

 

His face tightened in thought as he continued, refusing to look up at her just yet, “But just because you're strong enough to deal with me when I'm an asshole doesn't mean you should have to all the time. That's not fair to you.”

 

Their gazes met, deep regret reflected like mirrors in both pairs of eyes. Ichigo smiled solemnly, “You should get my good side, too, Tats. And you should get more of my appreciation because, through all the craziness we go through, you're the one who keeps me sane. You'll never know how much that means-”

 

“-Idiot.” Tatsuki stepped right into his personal space, wrapping him in a rare, delicate embrace. “I'm sorry, too. But I do get your good side- I get your best side.”

 

With a great sigh of relief, he hugged her tighter, earning a tiny groan of protest from her for both his strength and his momentary sappiness. There were, of course, no objections to the kiss, as a week's worth of pent-up tension was finally unleashed.

 

Minutes later, after they finally broke apart Ichigo took a look at his kitchen through fresh eyes. “Woah, this place is kind of a mess…” He smirked at the girl still trapped in his arms, “wanna help me clean up?”

 

Tatsuki giggled, “Sure. I'll scrape the walls and we can have applesauce for a month.”

 

But the teen shook his head, “Nah, the kitchen can wait. I meant me… as you can see, I'm a very dirty chef…”

 

“I'll say… I should take you out back and hit you with the garden hose.”

 

“A cold shower? No thanks. I'd rather take you upstairs an-”

 

“ICHI-NIII!! MY… KITCHEN!!!” Yuzu's pained wail from the kitchen's doorway filled the entire house.

 

The couple broke apart guiltily as the other Kurosaki twin entered, took one look around the room and shook her head, “Teenage hormones- the fastest detour from sanity.”

 

Ichigo and Tatsuki spent the rest of the afternoon and evening scrubbing, laughing and feeding each other slices of what, in Ichigo's mind, was his greatest victory to date.

 

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A/N: I started with the summary and went from there. What an odd little story it turned into… I have yet to write a sapless fic, I think. Like it? Hate it? Do leave me a review, won't you? Flames are welcome as they will be used to bake more apple pies for Tatsuki!

 

Thanks for reading! Mira :)