Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 5

 

The minute Rukia Kuchiki walked into the front lobby of Suigetsu Inc. with a box of office supplies filled to the brim and a laptop computer slung over her shoulder she immediately felt like she was being watched. It wasn't like the normal `being watched' feeling she usually got from the security cameras, men, and passers-by. This was far a whole lot stranger. She felt like she was being… stalked. Well, maybe stalked was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was still apt enough for the situation at hand.

 

She kept her head held high as she made her way stiffly to the elevator and actually managed to push the button for the floor of her new office using her heeled foot. As the doors closed she fought the urge to do a small victory dance and instead smirked at such an accomplishment this early in the morning. And it was early, she noted with a hint of smugness. The clock only read seven twenty. She would have been here at seven had she not missed the first metro train. Still, she was at her new office at a very respectable time. She should at least be given credit for that.

 

Excuse me, she thought disgustedly, my new shared office.

 

Oh yes, she had been briefed on the entire situation, curtsey of inside information from Momo as well as the standard shit Ukitake usually gave her. Now she was one half of a whole, figuratively speaking. She was to work with Ichigo Kurosaki on a project she desperately wanted to do well on. Yet from the way he acted yesterday in Ichimaru's office she knew that he wasn't going to take this as seriously as she.

 

Rukia scowled and listened to the horrid elevator music as she ascended. Last night she had done some research on Ichigo Kurosaki. He had a surprising amount of web pages devoted to him. She must have seen at least three hundred hits on Google alone. Most of them just referenced the man but some were completely dedicated to him. She found one blog from a twenty-something year old supermodel that had given a detailed explanation of exactly what she and Kurosaki had done one night in her apartment. Rukia had glazed over most of it—for propriety's sake—but from what she could tell Ichigo Kurosaki was as fearless in the boardroom as he was in the bedroom.

 

She continued on with her research and found articles—from reputable newspapers— discussing his ruthless tactics to acquire new companies for Suigetsu Inc. She remembered two months ago when she had read one particular article where Suigetsu Inc. had bullied another company—a larger company at that—into submission. As it turned out, Ichigo Kurosaki had been the mastermind behind that particular takeover.

 

The press, it seemed, couldn't make up its mind about Ichigo Kurosaki. One month they loved him and the next they were vilifying him on the front page of the business section. She had also noticed that some reporters were openly hostile while others begrudgingly admired his resourcefulness while shunning his tactics.

 

To Rukia it was all valuable information that she could use whether for him or against him. That particular aspect of their relationship would remain solely in his hands. Although, she wasn't about to tell him that she had researched him; that little fact would remain anonymous. She also told herself not to judge the man for what seemed to be his very numerous sexual escapades.

 

And they were numerous. The twenty-something supermodel hadn't been the only person to be reamed by Ichigo Kurosaki's… um, if the reports were true… incredibly large asset. At least two hundred of the three hundred hits she had gotten were about him and his former sexual partners. Needless to say it was not something that Rukia was that keen on learning about… in any capacity.

 

The elevator dinged and Rukia emerged slowly, careful not to spill the copious amounts of pens, pencils, erasers, paperclips, tape, and thousands of other things she knew she would need if she was going to survive. She continued until she was in front of the office she had inspected yesterday. She placed her boxes down on the ground and dug into her pocket for the key Ukitake had given her yesterday. She dug the silver thing into the lock and twisted.

 

The inside of the office was dark and slightly musty and Rukia immediately noted that she would need to open some sort of window if she was ever going to work here. She muttered softly as she moved to the side and flipped on the light switch.

 

Her inquisitive gaze was met with horror.

 

“Oh… my… god…” Rukia breathed.

 

It was very hard—no, it was extremely hard, for a woman who possessed a certain amount of OCD—Rukia, case in point—to look upon this disaster of a room without fighting the urge to vomit.

 

Rukia's dazed feet took two steps inside and she whimpered at the mass and heaps of papers littering the floor. She stepped over files with papers that had slipped away from their herds. She crunched over a pencil and felt like screaming bloody murder when she noticed a moldy cup of coffee sitting forlornly on a shelf.

 

She had thought the office wasn't that bad yesterday! Rukia placed a cooled hand to her mouth and bit her lip furiously. When she was in here the day before it had been only a little messy, now it looked as though a tsunami had rushed through the place, destroying everything in its path.

 

Rukia slowly and angrily—yes, she was angry now—meandered her way to a safe corner of the room and set her box down on a small, relatively clean—although dusty—shelf. She turned from where she was and surveyed the room once again. A small tick was beginning to form in her upper eye as she thought of what she was going to do to the man who would dare pull this kind of stunt.

 

He had done it on purpose.

 

“That stupid ass!” Rukia hissed as she fought the urge to kick something. It wouldn't be hard, though, for her foot to reach some stray document lying around on the floor.

 

The damn bastard had trashed her—their—office on purpose! Her mind whirled as she thought back to when she had met him with Ichimaru. She remembered how he had looked straight at her chest and seen that she had a new shirt on. Rukia's eye twitched when she thought of what it meant.

 

Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't a stupid man. He was, she had to admit, very smart. He must have seen how she liked to be tidy, as per the new shirt. He would have seen. He would have known. So when she made him look like a fool in front of his boss this was what he did. He completely trashed this office knowing that she would clean it up.

 

“Fucking pig.” She growled as she slipped her jacket from her shoulders. She unbuttoned the tiny plastic circles from her wrist cuffs and rolled up her sleeves. She briefly contemplated how she was going to do this while wearing a pencil skirt but that wasn't going to stop her. Rukia slipped out of her shoes and looked at the clock. Seven thirty. She had about an hour before people actually started showing up in earnest.

 

Rukia's eyes narrowed and she rolled out of her pantyhose. She was going to make Kurosaki pay for this. He was going to pay for messing with her. She was going to subject him to the filing system from hell.

 

But first and foremost, she needed a cup of coffee.

 

*~*~*

 

By eight thirty Rukia had both a light sheen on sweat on the back of her neck and the return of the whole `being watched' feeling. She stood slowly and leaned backwards, cracking her back just a bit as she straightened her clothing.

 

She was almost finished.

 

Well, maybe almost wasn't the operative word to be used in this situation. She was at least halfway finished… kind of.

 

She looked to her right and nodded in success. All of the files were put into their respective folders and cabinets; not to mention they were also organized by year, by name, and then by how much money was gained during the transaction between the companies. Rukia grinned evilly at her filing plans. Yes… Ichigo Kurosaki would soon be felled by her filing system from hell. Maybe she should add in a bit of the Dewey Decimal system, just for good measure. After that she continued to rearrange the furniture, the files, and most importantly, the desk. She needed to make it so that two people could sit there comfortably.

 

Rukia's eyes darkened at the thought. Yes, she would have to share a desk with Kurosaki, but at least she had given them both room. She had noticed when she first came in here that there was only one desk and that it had been pushed so far into the corner it was nearly pressed against the large window.

 

Rukia cocked her head to the side and sighed. At least the view was good. In fact, the window was probably the only thing in this damn office she liked. It was huge. When she had been told that Ichigo Kurosaki had a corner office she had thought nothing of it. But now she understood that when Ukitake said corner office he had meant corner office. Literally, two of the walls that comprised it were made completely of glass. They were large and well maintained. The only bad thing was that there wasn't a window she could actually open. Still, there was an awful lot of natural light she could work by. Not to mention the view of the courtyard down below and the city in the distance was wonderful.

 

She sighed softly and wiggled her bare feet into the carpet. She knew it was completely uncouth of her to actually not wear shoes in an office, but when faced with such heavy-duty cleaning and organizing as she had been faced with she knew that it had to be done. It was a good thing that the office was shut off to the hallway. She wouldn't have wanted an all-around office made of glass.

 

“Too many problems with rocks.” She muttered, grinning lightly at her own joke.

 

She glanced over at the clock and grimaced when she saw the time. If anything, Kurosaki should be here by nine. She pulled her lips into a tight frown and mentally made a note to find a way to get him into the office earlier. If she was here at seven she wanted him to be here at seven as well. That way the project would take less time to do and she could be out of here much faster.

 

She moved over to a small table sitting, unused, in the corner of the room. She had moved the thing near and outlet and was currently brewing her early morning coffee. I'll have to be careful when I drink coffee around Kurosaki, she thought disdainfully as she filled her cup and took another sip.

 

She turned around and gently appraised what she had done.

 

It was clean in a roundabout way. Enough to keep her OCD censors from completely freaking out. She'd have to leave a note to the cleaning crew to vacuum the floor tonight but other than that everything was in a relatively safe place. The filing cabinets were organized and the desk was partitioned well. Her laptop was placed opposite his on the mahogany top, giving them enough room for personal space but also ensuring that she could look over to his desktop to easily access information.

 

The only thing she didn't like too much was the fact that they were both on the same side of the desk. She would have to deal with his Satanic presence always being on her right while they worked together.

 

Still, working with what they had she'd have to say that she did a rather good job. Now if she could just put her pantyhose and shoes back on before anyone noticed that would be—

 

“Good morning.”

 

Rukia twirled around at the sound of the cheerfully strained voice and blinked when her gaze fell onto that of a young woman. She had long, reddish-orange hair, swirling gray eyes, a slim build, and some of the largest breasts Rukia had ever seen in her life. Rukia's eyes also narrowed a bit when she noticed the woman's stance. She was trying to look nonchalant while leaning casually against the doorframe, but Rukia could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the tenseness in her jaw, and the hard look that covered her gray eyes like a film.

 

“Good morning,” Rukia returned warily. She took a few steps forward and held out her hand. The young woman stared at it for a moment before tentatively reaching out and grasping it in her own. “I'm Rukia Kuchiki, I'll be working here for a while.” She released their hands but not before noticing the weakness of the greeting.

 

Best to get the introductions out of the way first, Rukia thought ruefully. She didn't like the way this woman was staring at her… like it was Rukia who was single-handedly ruining her life.

 

“Yes, I figured.” The woman said, her voice was high pitched and cheerful but the warm sentiments did not reach her eyes, which were still cautiously evaluating Rukia, as if she were afraid she might have rabies. “Mr. Kurosaki told me you were coming.”

 

“He did?” Rukia said amiably, attempting to soften the sound of her voice in order to make her seem friendlier. She didn't want to start making enemies right off the bat. She needed allies here if she was to go up against Kurosaki.

 

“Yes,” the woman continued, Rukia made a mental note that she had not given her name yet. “You're from Gotei Corp. aren't you?”

 

Rukia's spine stiffened. Ukitake had told her that this merger was to be kept a secret. She had assumed that Ichimaru had told Kurosaki the same thing. Rukia seethed on the inside and cursed; if Kurosaki had blabbed to the secretary with the large cans then Rukia was going to use his body as a punching bag.

 

“Yes, I am.” Rukia replied, her voice growing colder by the minute. She could already envision how she was going to punish Kurosaki for opening his big mouth.

 

The woman nodded softly and raised an eyebrow. “Well, then welcome. Although I should tell you, Mr. Kurosaki doesn't very much like people going through his things.” Her eyes roamed the newly organized room and then landed back on Rukia, whose lips tightened fractionally.

 

“Yes well,” she trailed, “I don't much like working inside of a hurricane disaster zone either so I had to do something,” she laughed lightly, hoping to lighten the mood just a smidge. She could already tell that her attempts to endear this young woman into her favor were going to be a disaster. It seemed as though she was already a persona non grata in this place.

 

She giggled appreciatively but once again the giggle did not sound true. “Of course, of course… Mr. Kurosaki is a bit untidy.”

 

Untidy is the understatement you moron. Rukia thought exasperatedly. She didn't like to deal with people like her… whoever the hell she was.

 

“I'm sorry,” Rukia intoned lightly, “I don't believe I know your name.”

 

Ha, Rukia thought victoriously, just try and get out of this one.

 

The young woman's eyes widened and she let out a ringing laugh, her breasts bobbed up and down with the movements of her chest as she slowly brought it down into a giggle. “Oh, of course, sorry about that.” She said jovially, “I'm Orihime Inoue; I'm the secretary for this floor.” Once again, her eyes did not convey any type of warming emotions.

 

“Well, I'm very pleased to meet you.” Rukia said cordially.

 

Not.

 

“Likewise,” Inoue replied, “I'm always at the end of the hall if you need me.”

 

“Certainly.” Rukia really wished this conversation was over. She only had fifteen minutes before Kurosaki was supposed to show up and she desperately needed to get back into her pantyhose and heels. She didn't want to deal with any ridiculous comments that were sure to come from him if he saw her looking so unprofessional. It was a good thing that Orihime Inoue couldn't see past her own breasts, if she could she would have noticed that Rukia's legs were bare and that her toes were visible. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman's insistence to continue this conversation. She needed to make up an entire lecture about the necessity of clean office space so she could give it to Kurosaki when he arrived.

 

“I'll see you around.” Inoue finally said, smiling through her teeth so hard that Rukia was almost sure one of them would crack. She turned on her heel and stepped lightly out of the room.

 

As soon as she left Rukia shut the door and hurriedly rushed over to her side of the desk. She had stuffed her shoes and her hose in the top desk drawer so no unexpected visitors would see them just lying around. She dug them out and slowly slid them on. She had to pull up her skirt just a bit in order to get them on and mentally cursed herself for wearing them. She had never liked wearing pantyhose, even when she was little, but in the world where she grew up, they were expected, if not demanded.

 

She slid her shoes into place and plopped down into Kurosaki's chair. She had to wait another day before she could properly hire men to bring her own chair over to Suigetsu Inc. so for today she would just have to deal with Kurosaki's.

 

She scooted the chair over to her own workspace and began to run through some files that would aid in the preliminary stages of the merger. They were mostly formalities but both companies needed to undergo them in order to really get down to business.

 

Rukia did not look up from her computer until it was half past nine. She blinked at the time shown on her screen and immediately felt a strange mix of confusion and anger spinning in the pit of her stomach.

 

Warily, she stood up from her—Kurosaki's—chair and stomped out into the hall. The floor was now buzzing with people. Rukia did not recognize any of them—save Orihime Inoue—and she most certainly did not recognize that shock of orange hair that accompanied Ichigo Kurosaki's arrival.

 

“Damn,” she muttered quietly. A few people looked over to her as she poked her head out of the door and began muttering lightly. She scowled at them instantly and most of them turned away. She reveled momentarily in the power to make people turn away. Oh, it was good.

 

Still, she reminded herself, she wanted allies in this place. Hell, she needed them if she was to stand up against that arrogant ass Kurosaki. She needed to play her hand carefully so as not to make too many enemies here.

 

So, instead of frostily ignoring Orihime Inoue for as long as she could—like she had planned to do—Rukia straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and marched at a clipped pace over to her large desk. People stared at her as she passed but she paid them no mind, other than nodding to a few who offered morning greetings. She came to the front desk only to discover that Inoue's eyes had been following her the entire time she had been walking over.

 

Okay, creepy. Rukia sighed mentally. But she persevered anyway.

 

“Ms. Inoue,” Rukia began, having noticed earlier that the busty young woman did not possess a wedding ring or engagement band, “I would like to know when I should expect Kurosaki to arrive.” Rukia made sure to phrase the statement as a demand and not a question.

 

The woman's eyes blinked and the hard filminess returned after a moment. “Oh I'm not sure, Ms. Kuchiki,” she said, Rukia noted a slight increase into her voice while she said her name. “Sometimes he doesn't come in until… oh, ten o'clock.”

 

Rukia felt the urge to snap a pencil in two… or someone's neck. Her face did not betray her frustration. “Very well,” she said crisply, “Thank you Ms. Inoue.”

 

“Orihime, please.” She said sweetly, her voice tilting up onto a giggle at the end.

 

“Alright then… Orihime.” Rukia turned to leave after nodding once again. In all honesty she did not want to address Orihime Inoue by her first name. It wasn't just because of her lack of social skills or because of her desire not to get too attached to the people at Suigetsu Inc. or even because she was determined to focus solely on her work. Calling someone by their first name was just too personal for her. She hadn't been brought up to be so familiar with another person. She even addressed family members with a proper modicum of respect. Not to mention, judging from the less-than-warm greeting she had received this morning she doubted that having the ability to address Inoue by her first name would lead to any sort of friendship. She just wanted to remain cordial with the woman who, for some reason, didn't like her very much.

 

Not that I can blame her though. Rukia snorted at that thought. Not many people liked her because she was an uptight ass… and nothing was going to change that anytime soon. Hell, she should be grateful that people here still didn't know her temperaments. Once they did, well… she could say goodbye to cordial.

 

Either way—be it by her own personality or by the workings of some strange higher power—she knew that Orihime Inoue was not going to be one of her allies here at Suigetsu Inc.

 

Ten o'clock rolled around and at that time Rukia began to get truly agitated. She swore that if Kurosaki didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes she would find someone who knew his cell phone number and call it.

 

Then keep the number so she could begin harassing him on a daily basis. Maybe then he'd get a restraining order and she wouldn't be forced to work with him anymore.

 

She had already gone through all of the activities she had prepared in case Kurosaki was a little late—she had some extraneous files to finish up, emails to send, and minions to harass—but now, she was knee deep in her fifth game of free cell and she had even polished off two more cups of coffee.

 

Someone around here must have connections with Kurosaki, she thought angrily. He must have a friend or a girlfriend or something!

 

Rukia growled openly and felt the driving urge to kick something. That would not, however, be a wise decision considering the shoes she was currently wearing. She sent a withering glare over to the clock and heartily wished for something sharp. When Kurosaki got here she was going to stab him. Maybe a ballpoint pen. They were relatively sharp and she could probably get a pretty good hit on him if she tried. A knife would be better, of course, or maybe a blunt ax…

 

Honestly, how was she supposed to write a report about how the merger was going if there was no work actually being done? How was she supposed to do any work without Kurosaki here? And how in the hell was she supposed to keep her temper in check when he was around?

 

It was just a circle of futility she acknowledged angrily. She couldn't work without him and she would bet her entire salary that she wouldn't be able to work with him.

 

“Damn that Kurosaki.” She muttered loathingly. Her nose seemed to be twisting itself into a permanent snarl without any signals coming from her brain. She eyed the clock once again and felt a tick start near her temple. He had ten minutes left before she brought in the cavalry.

 

Rukia's eyes moved woefully to her empty cup of coffee. She knew that if she even dared to drink another one her body would start acting like an activated jackhammer pounding into the side of some street. Still, she had a feeling that once Kurosaki got here she would need all the energy in her body—caffeine stimulated or otherwise—in order to yell at him properly.

 

She decided to chuck her inhibitions and go for one more cup of coffee. It took her a moment to realize the idiocy of that thought but she discarded it with a shrug. Coffee filled her mug—which was colorfully decorated with a Chappy the Rabbit smiley face—and she noticed that hers would be the last cup of the pot.

 

See? She told herself. You tried to be nice and make enough for the two of you… but did he even show up to drink some? No!

 

She took a ruthless swill and tried to ignore the intense burning sensation and the gritty grinds scalding her throat. The uncomfortable feelings, however, were only intensified, by the sudden appearance of the current bane of Rukia's existence.

 

“Morning Sunshine.”

 

The glare that Rukia Kuchiki gave to Ichigo Kurosaki could have melted the polar ice caps. It wasn't cold, like her normal glares, but hot. Her eyes were smoldering and sparking with more anger than she had known in such a long time. Her teeth clenched hard and she felt a hard twisting in her gut. She was so angry that she could barely speak.

 

He stood there, examining her softly as she stayed poised near the counter. She was clutching her Chappy the Rabbit coffee cup with a grip that could have broken steel—but she would never harm anything Chappy related so the cup was safe—and she was staring poison-tipped-daggers at the man who had single-handedly managed to ruin her life in less than three short days. Yet even under her demonic scrutiny he seemed to be content with smiling smugly in her direction.

 

He didn't care that he was ruining her chances to get Ukitake's job. He didn't care that they had lost productive working time. He didn't care that he was an hour late! Two hours if you counted work starting at eight! He was late and smug and evil and horrible and—and—

 

Rukia calmly but briskly slithered past Ichigo Kurosaki and shut the door to their office. Her hands were steady, her feet were sure, and her expression was set in stone. A few people peeked at her as she slowly twisted the knob, threw the door into its frame, and carefully locked it shut. She was quite sure that a couple people outside must have heard the definite click. She briefly wondered what was going through their heads right now. Probably something dirty, if she had to venture a guess. But no… the only dirty aspect that would come out of this conversation would be the janitors eventually wiping Kurosaki's blood off of the floor.

 

Then she turned to him, took a deep, cleansing breath, and narrowed her eyes.

 

“Sunshine?” She murmured dangerously. She took three quick steps towards him and clenched her jaw. “Sunshine! Who do you think you are?” She shrieked. At this point she was so angry she didn't care if people outside of the office heard her.

 

“Ichigo Kurosaki.” He answered smartly, his lips curling at the corners. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her.

 

Rukia's hand shot out and she punched him hard on the shoulder. He jerked back a bit and she felt a thin sensation of satisfaction course through her when she saw that he momentarily stumbled. Yet her anger was far from being abated. Right now, she was so furious with him it was taking all of her caffeine-propelled energy just to keep a cool head.

 

“You're such an ass!” She hissed angrily, taking one step forward. He didn't move an inch, he just stood there, smiling arrogantly and rubbing/flexing his shoulder.

 

Rukia dared to take another step and finally planted herself only a foot away from him. She didn't like that she was shorter than him by about a foot but right now her rage made her feel seven feet tall.

 

Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw and hissed, “I've came here at seven in the morning to find this office a complete mess, which, I'm sure, was your doing! I had to spend the entire morning fixing up this dump and then you don't even bother to come in until now! You're late. Work is supposed to start at nine, the good employee is supposed to come in at eight and I expect you to come in earlier!”

 

There was a slight pause. The room seemed to be pulsating with antagonism and irritation.

 

“Excuse me?” Kurosaki said softly… dangerously.

 

She raised her hand as if to punch him again but fought the urge to do so. Her fingers curled shut and she forced them down a bit. Kurosaki's face was relaxed but his body was tense. She had the sneaking suspicion that if she tried to hit him again she would feel her fingers caught inside of his iron grip… and that was something she just didn't want to happen.

 

She narrowed her eyes instead and dragged her hand back down to her side. “If I need to work with you—for however long this thing takes—then I want you to come into the office early and stay late. I need to have this done quickly and proficiently so I can come into work everyday without seeing your revolting face every morning!”

 

Rukia couldn't believe how angry she was becoming. In the entirety of her career as a lawyer, throughout her schooling both in high school and at the university level, hell, even as a young child, she had always been taught to keep her cool. Always. No matter what the situation, her standing as a member of the Kuchiki Family and that as a respectable young woman were always resting on the idea that she would never lose control of her emotional state.

 

With this sudden realization she twisted her body away, raised her hands to her face, and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. She didn't want everyone here thinking she was nuts. Well, she didn't actually care what they thought; she just didn't want word to get around to the bosses that she had yelled at her ass of a coworker on their first day of working together.

 

She walked a few steps away and let out a long, aggravated, and thoroughly needed sigh. She needed to cool down. She needed a therapist. She needed a tranquilizer.

 

I promised Ukitake that I'd make this work. She reminded herself moodily. That's what I'm going to do… make it work.

 

What she needed was some type of technique to help her relax whenever he made her angry… Like that breathing shit they told pregnant women to do. Except, Rukia wasn't pregnant… nor did she plan on—

 

Oh just stop thinking like that! Rukia hissed. Damn random trains of thought. She groaned and pressed her cooled hands to her forehead. She sucked in a breath and began counting backwards from ten.

 

“You know what?” She said softly when she was finished counting. She turned to stare him down with a threatening, yet appeasing, glare. Rukia's mood soured even more when she saw how he met her gaze with a simple, disdainful, and oddly… distant look. It was like he was tuning her out or something. She didn't like it. “Just be on time from now on.” She spat angrily and stomped over to the coffeepot before remembering that it was empty.

 

She paused for a few minutes; her back was turned towards him, allowing him to revel in the uncomfortable silence she just left behind. In her mind she congratulated herself for her little tirade. It was enough emotion so that he might fear her but not enough that he'd stop respecting her as a competent attorney. She had merely asserted her territory. From now on this was not his office alone, but hers as well.

 

She spun around and placed her hands on the back of the counter. Her fingers gripped the ledge. Her eyes went up to his face and she fixed her gaze on his nose. She didn't want to look into his amber eyes directly, she was too mad at him for that.

 

I haven't known this guy for seventy two hours and I already hate him more than I hate anything else! She thought in aggravation. This is just plain unnatural.

 

“Alright?” She demanded. She needed confirmation that he had at least heard her. Something like a meek little nod or maybe a stiff glare or even an exasperated rolling of the eyes.

 

He didn't answer. Rukia felt her body stiffen and she fought the urge to repeat herself. Two more seconds passed before she looked up into his eyes.

 

They were closed.

 

“Kurosaki!” She yelled.

 

His amber eyes fluttered open slowly and once again Rukia had to fight not to be blown away by the pure richness of their coloring. He blinked those eyes of his three times before he inclined his head and turned the full power of his gaze on her. He cocked his head to the side and smirked, “I'm sorry, did you say something?”

 

Silence. He tilted his head to the side and smirked lightly. Rukia's eye twitched and a muscle by her jaw ticked dangerously. She had never wanted to hit someone more in her entire life.

 

However, instead of hitting him, or even yelling at him, she chose to do something that would at least allow her to maintain some of her abused dignity. She stiffened her spine, narrowed her eyes, pulled together what pride she had left inside of her, grabbed her purse, and walked towards the door.

 

His intense stare followed her as she marched to the exit. Her heels were muffled by the softness of the carpet beneath her and her mouth was closed. She was quiet, silent… nonexistent. Her breathing was labored but it wasn't registered. She didn't look at him. He didn't deserve it.

 

He didn't say another word as she flung the door open and stepped outside. A few people meandering inside the hall gave her strange looks—most of all Orihime Inoue, who looked oddly… relieved—but her vision was tunneled.

 

She could only see the exit signs.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: I know that some of you are not thrilled with Ichigo's character. I consider this fic another type of experimentation into the element of characterization. If people have read She Will Be Loved then you know what I'm talking about. I just thought it would be fun to try something new out. =)

 

This chapter goes out to 07Janina07 and Navirae, who emailed me personally to tell me to hurry my butt up and update a chapter.

 

Please don't forget to REVIEW, REVIEW, and REVIEW!!!)