Chapter Text
The café was nearly empty when Ichigo pushed through the door.
It was one of those places that lived on caffeine and insomnia. Muted lights, scratched wooden tables, the low hum of a refrigerator behind the counter.
Rukia spotted him immediately.
So did Renji.
Ichigo felt it in the way both of them went still for half a second, eyes flicking over him in the same instinctive assessment they used on wounded allies. He hadn’t bothered changing out of the hoodie he’d slept in, if you could even call it sleep. The fabric hung loose on him, sleeves tugged down over his hands, shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing against the cold.
He hadn’t gone to any of his morning classes. He hadn’t even pretended he might.
Dark circles sat heavy under his eyes, shadows carved deep enough that no amount of concealer could have hidden them. His hair stuck up at odd angles, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times and given up halfway through fixing it.
Rukia’s gaze sharpened.
“…Wow,” she said flatly. “You look like hell.”
Ichigo dropped into the chair across from them, hands still buried in his pockets. “Good morning to you too.”
Renji winced. “Damn, man. You look like you lost a fight with a truck.”
Ichigo snorted weakly. “I’ll put that on my résumé.”
Rukia leaned back in her chair, arms crossing. “I’m serious. Did you sleep at all?”
“Nope.”
“Eat?”
“Nope.”
She clicked her tongue. “Fantastic. Really selling the ‘emotionally stable’ image.”
Ichigo shot her a tired look. “Thanks. Your concern is touching.”
Renji leaned forward, brows drawn together now that the initial shock had worn off. “Alright, jokes aside, what’s up?”
Ichigo hesitated.
Just for a beat.
Then he exhaled through his nose, shoulders slumping like he’d finally let go of something he’d been holding upright through sheer force of will.
“Akari and I broke up.”
The words landed quietly.
Renji’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Rukia didn’t react right away.
Then she nodded. Once. Slow.
“…Yeah,” she said. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Ichigo huffed, humorless. “Wow. Was it that obvious?”
Rukia ignored him and turned her head just enough to look at Renji. Their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them.
“We know you, Ichigo.” Renji answered. “You wear your heart on a sleeve. And that girl, as nice as she was, you guys clearly weren’t right for each other.”
“Yeah, I was wondering whether you were going to notice or we’d have to intervene.” Rukia said, looking back at Ichigo, and then schooled her expression into something neutral. “I mean,” she said carefully, “we didn’t exactly have to… push very hard.”
Renji coughed into his fist, badly disguising a grin. “Yeah, uh. Guess the universe handled that one.”
Ichigo stared at them. “…You’re both terrible.”
She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm, studying him with sharp, knowing eyes. “So,” she said. “You liked her that much, huh? That’s why you look like absolute garbage?”
Ichigo didn’t answer immediately.
He stared down at the table instead, at a dark ring left behind by someone else’s cup. He traced it absently with his thumb, then stopped.
“No,” he said quietly.
Rukia blinked.
Renji frowned. “Then what—?”
Ichigo lifted his gaze, eyes dull with exhaustion but painfully clear.
“It’s the opposite,” he said.
The words sat there, heavy and undeniable.
Rukia straightened, expression sobering.
Renji went quiet.
Ichigo leaned back in his chair, hoodie bunching at his shoulders, jaw tightening like he was bracing for impact that had already come and gone.
“I should’ve ended it sooner,” he continued. “Instead I dragged it out because I didn’t want to hurt her. And in the end, that’s exactly what I did.”
Rukia watched him closely now, no teasing left in her eyes. “And how do you feel about it?”
Ichigo let out a slow breath.
“Like shit,” he said honestly. “Guilty. Relieved. Both, which somehow makes it worse.”
Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… that sucks.”
Rukia exhaled, long and measured. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re officially at the part where you can’t pretend anymore.”
Ichigo glanced at her. “Pretend about what?”
She held his gaze.
“You know exactly what.”
Rukia knew. Of course she knew.
Renji probably too.
Was there anyone who didn’t know?
The coffee machine hissed behind the counter, loud in the quiet.
Ichigo looked away first.
Rukia held his gaze a moment longer, then clicked her tongue softly.
“You can’t keep running from this,” she said. Not sharp or unkind. Just tired of watching him bleed quietly. “From your feelings. From the mess. From her. It’s not doing you any good, Ichigo. And it’s definitely not doing anyone else any favors.”
Ichigo’s jaw tightened. “I’m not running.”
Rukia snorted. “You skipped class, you look like you crawled out of a grave, and you just broke up with your girlfriend because you couldn’t keep lying to yourself.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “If that’s not running, then I don’t know what is.”
Renji nodded beside her. “She’s got a point, man.”
Ichigo looked away, fingers curling tighter in the fabric of his hoodie. “So what?” He muttered. “You’re gonna give me another lecture?”
Rukia shook her head. “No. Because honestly? I can’t help you if you’re too scared to face what you’re feeling.”
That stung more than he expected.
“But,” she continued, expression shifting, “there is something I can do to make you feel… well, less like shit.”
He glanced back at her, suspicious. “You said that the last time too.”
She smiled. Renji grinned wider.
“And look how that worked out!” Rukia said smugly. She leaned back, folding her arms casually, like she wasn’t about to drop something that would upend his weekend. “The Gotei authorized us a leave. A few days. Everyone’s been running themselves into the ground since the war. Rebuilding, patrols, paperwork hell. So, a few of us decided to take a short getaway.”
Renji lifted a hand. “To the human world. A beach resort.”
Ichigo blinked. “A… what?”
“A beach resort,” Rukia repeated, savoring it. “Sun. Sand. Actual rest. And before you ask, nii-sama is paying.”
Ichigo nearly choked. “Of course he is.”
“He said,” Rukia went on, voice dry, “that if we were going to take leave, we might as well do it properly. And then, interestingly enough, he suggested we invite our friends from the human world too.”
Renji shrugged. “Said something about ‘fostering bonds’ and ‘shared recovery’ but I call bullshit.” A teasing grin took over his face. “Captain probably misses Orihime-chan too. He seemed to have grown fond of her. He talks about her sometimes.”
“Shut up, Renji! Stop speculating about nii-sama’s thoughts.” Rukia rolled her eyes.
Ichigo stared at them, unease swirling at him at the prospect of Orihime and Byakuya. “You’re kidding.”
“We’re really not,” Renji said. “That’s why we came back to Karakura in the first place.”
A beat.
“…We’re leaving this weekend.”
The words settled in.
Ichigo exhaled slowly. “You asked the others?”
Renji nodded. “Yeah. Chad’s in. Ishida pretended he wasn’t interested, then asked for the exact dates and accommodations.”
Ichigo hesitated, then asked the question that had been sitting heavy on his tongue since the moment Rukia started talking.
“…Even Inoue?”
Rukia didn’t answer immediately.
Then she nodded. “It took a little convincing,” she admitted. “She almost said no. But… yeah. She’s coming.”
Something tight and sharp twisted in his chest.
Rukia watched his reaction closely, softer now. “Everyone’s on board.” She tilted her head. “Everyone except you.”
Renji leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “We’re not saying this fixes anything,” he said honestly. “And we’re definitely not saying it won’t be awkward.”
Rukia nodded. “But hiding in your apartment, skipping your life, and pretending this’ll sort itself out isn’t helping either.”
She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “So. Think of it as a ceasefire. A few days where you don’t have to decide anything. You just… exist. Have fun.”
Renji grinned. “Worst case scenario? You get sunburned and yell at seagulls.”
Ichigo huffed despite himself.
Rukia looked at him, eyes steady. “Come with us, Ichigo.”
The café felt very quiet again.
He looked down at the table. At his hands. At the weight of everything he’d been carrying alone.
Then, quietly, “When do we leave?”
Rukia’s smile wasn’t triumphant.
It was relieved.
“This Friday,” she said. “Early morning. You’re not backing out.”
Ichigo scoffed weakly. “You say that like I have a choice.”
Renji stood, stretching his arms over his head. “You really don’t. Pretty sure Rukia would drag you by the collar if she had to.”
“I absolutely would,” Rukia agreed cheerfully. Then her tone softened. “But I’d rather you come because you want to.”
Ichigo didn’t answer right away.
His gaze drifted to the café window, to the street outside where people passed by laughing, talking, moving forward with their lives like nothing inside them was splintering. The idea of a beach, of sun and noise and Orihime, made his stomach twist. Not dread exactly. Something sharper.
“I don’t want to ruin it for everyone,” he said finally.
Rukia scoffed. “You won’t.”
Renji nodded. “And if things get weird, we’ll deal with it. That’s what friends do.”
Ichigo glanced back at them. “You two planned this, didn’t you.”
Rukia tilted her head, unapologetic. She stepped closer, resting a hand briefly on his shoulder, grounding, familiar. “You don’t have to confess anything. You don’t have to fix anything. You don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to.” Her eyes sharpened, just a little. “But you do have to stop disappearing and punishing yourself.”
Something in his chest loosened at that.
Renji clapped his hands together. “Alright, logistics aside, have you eaten anything?”
Ichigo grimaced. “Coffee?”
“That doesn’t count,” Rukia said. “I’m getting you something to eat. Right now.”
She turned toward the counter without waiting for his response, already calling out an order like this was settled fact. Ichigo watched her go, something like gratitude threading through his exhaustion.
Renji leaned closer, voice dropping. “For what it’s worth, man… this doesn’t make you a bad guy.”
Ichigo swallowed. “Feels like it does.”
“Nah. You’re just scared,” Renji said. “Happens to the best of us. Took me decades to admit how I felt about Rukia. And you—” He nudged Ichigo’s shoulder. “You were the idiot who brought us together. So let us return the favor.”
Ichigo let out a small breath, something almost like a smile breaking through. “Thanks, Renji.”
“Always,” Renji said, clapping him on the back.
A few minutes later, a plate was set in front of him. He stared at it like it might disappear if he blinked.
“Eat,” Rukia ordered, sliding back into her seat. “Then go home. Sleep. We’ll handle the rest.”
Ichigo picked up his fork, hesitating only a moment before taking a bite.
It tasted like cardboard.
Still, he kept eating.
He left shortly after, only after Rukia made him swear, on his entire bloodline, that he wouldn’t bail at the last second.
The door closed behind him.
Renji turned slowly, to his girlfriend, who had an extremely smug look on her face that he was sure meant trouble.
“So, the part about us not interfering. You didn’t mean that, did you?” Renji asked her, already knowing the answer.
Rukia scoffed. “Of course I didn’t mean that. Do you honestly think that idiot will ever come to his senses on his own?” She then continued. “Good thing we’ll have help.”
Friday morning arrived too quickly.
Ichigo stood across the street from Urahara Shoten, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. The sky was still pale, washed in early light, the air cool enough to bite at his ears. He looked marginally better than he had the day before. He’d slept, technically, but not by much. His hair was at least combed this time. That felt like progress.
The shop was already… loud.
Ichigo frowned.
Voices overlapped inside, familiar reiatsus washing over him. Unmistakably not the “few people” Rukia had implied. The sound of shinigamis arguing spilled through the open door, punctuated by something crashing and Rangiku’s unmistakable laugh ringing out above it all.
He sighed.
“Of course,” he muttered, and stepped inside.
Chaos greeted him.
Not just any chaos. Soul Society’s particular brand of it, contained within the narrow space of Urahara Shoten. People were everywhere. Sitting on counters. Leaning against shelves. Arguing over snacks. Someone had already knocked over a display of some type of candies that could get you through a week without eating.
Rukia stood near the center of it all, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with herself.
Ichigo’s eyes swept the room. Rukia glanced over at him.
“…You lied to me,” he said flatly. “There is nothing ‘few’ about this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the room.
Renji clapped him on the shoulder from behind. “Surprise?”
Rangiku was sprawled across a crate near the counter, sunglasses already perched on her head despite the sun barely being up. “Ichigooo,” she sang. “You made it! I was worried you’d chicken out.”
“I almost did,” he replied honestly.
She grinned. “I’m glad you came.”
To her left, Momo sat quietly with a travel bag at her feet, hands folded neatly in her lap. She smiled when she noticed him. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he said, nodding. “Uh… you too?”
She laughed softly.
Shūhei was leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed, looking like he hadn’t slept either. He raised two fingers in greeting. “Yo.”
Kira stood beside him, already looking vaguely ill. “I’m… not good with human world transport,” he said preemptively, like he needed Ichigo to know.
Ikkaku and Yumichika were arguing loudly over seating arrangements.
“I’m not sitting next to you,” Yumichika snapped.
Ikkaku scoffed. “Like I’d wanna sit next to you anyway.”
“You absolutely would.”
Nanao stood stiffly near the door, clutching a small bag like a lifeline, her glasses reflecting the light. She looked profoundly uncomfortable.
Ichigo paused near her. “You okay?”
She adjusted her grip. “The Captain-Commander insisted I went… ‘to keep an eye on everyone.’” Her mouth tightened. “I suspect that was a lie.”
“Yeah,” Ichigo said sympathetically. “That sounds like him.”
Further back, the Visoreds had claimed an entire corner, Shinji lounging like he owned the place, Hiyori already yelling at him, waving her flip-flop in the air, Kensei arguing with Love about how they were not leaving Rose in charge of the music for the journey. Hachigen was sitting in the corner watching the chaos ensue.
“Yo Ichigo!” Shinji paused when he saw him and greeted before peering somewhere behind him, as if searching for something. “Why’d you come alone? Where’s Orihime-chan?”
Ichigo rolled his eyes, irritation flashing across his face. “What’s it to you?”
“What do you mean “what’s it to me”? She’s sitting next to me on the way to the resort of course.” Shinji stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“She is doing nothing of that sort, Hirako.” Ichigo gritted out through clenched teeth.
He was about to continue his verbal spat with Shinji when a girl with blonde hair that was dyed pink at the ends approached him. She was visibly delighted by everything, already snapping photos on her phone.
“You’re Kurosaki Ichigo, aren’t you? THE Kurosaki Ichigo?” Her voice was too loud for a groggy and sleep-deprived Ichigo.
Before he could reply, she had already shoved her phone in his face and was posing next to him.
Ichigo recoiled half a step on instinct.
“—What?”
The girl beamed at him, entirely unfazed by his visible discomfort. She leaned in closer, phone still held out at arm’s length, pink dip-dyed hair catching the light as she angled herself just right. “This is huge. I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person.”
“I don’t—” Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why is this happening to me?”
Shinji snorted from behind her. “Ah. You found him already.”
She spun around, eyes lighting up. “Captain Hirako! He’s real! He’s real real!”
“I am standing right here,” Ichigo muttered.
Shinji grinned at him, sharp and lazy. “Ichigo, meet Yuyu Yayahara. Lisa’s lieutenant. Will not respect personal space.”
“Correction,” Yuyu said brightly, finally lowering her phone and sticking out her hand. “I respect personal space. I just choose to ignore it.”
She grabbed Ichigo’s hand and shook it enthusiastically before he could react.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she continued. “The substitute Shingami. Beat Aizen. Beat Yhwach. Saved the worlds.” She rambled.
Ichigo yanked his hand back. “Why does everyone here know my résumé?”
Shinji shrugged. “You’re kind of famous.”
Yuyu nodded solemnly. “You’re basically a legend.”
“I don’t want to be,” Ichigo said flatly.
Yuyu said something else but Ichigo didn’t register it because he suddenly felt a massive reiatsu somewhere behind him.
He stiffened.
“Oi,” a familiar, rough voice called out. “You get taller, kid? Or am I just remembering wrong?”
He turned slowly.
Zaraki Kenpachi stood a few feet away, ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of the shop. He grinned like this was the best day of his life.
Ichigo stared. “Kenpachi? You’re here too?”
Kenpachi laughed. “I heard you were coming. So, damn right I am. Last time you came to Soul Society, you came and left so fast, I couldn’t ask for the rematch you owe me.”
Ichigo grimaced. “I really don’t.”
Kenpachi leaned closer, grin sharpening. “You still scared I’ll win?”
Ichigo met his gaze, pulse ticking up despite himself. “…You’re impossible.”
Kenpachi threw his head back and laughed, clearly pleased. “That’s the spirit.”
And then—
The air shifted again. Quieter. Heavier.
Ichigo’s shoulders tightened before he even saw him.
Kuchiki Byakuya appeared, posture perfect despite the cramped space. His scarf was nowhere to be seen, but his presence was unmistakable. Imposing. Unyielding. Watching everything without appearing to.
Ichigo swallowed.
He hadn’t expected this reaction. This spike of unease, this old instinct to straighten up, to brace himself like he was about to be judged and found lacking.
Byakuya turned his head slightly.
Their eyes met.
“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he said calmly.
Ichigo nodded stiffly. “Byakuya.”
Yuyu leaned in, whispering loudly, “Whoa. Captain Kuchiki is here too? He’s intense.”
“Lower your voice,” Shinji hissed.
Byakuya’s gaze flicked briefly to her, then back to Ichigo. “You don’t seem… well,” he said after a pause.
Ichigo almost laughed at that.
A beat.
Byakuya inclined his head, just a fraction. “Nevertheless. I am glad you came.”
That surprised him enough that he didn’t hide it.
“…You are?”
“Yes.” Byakuya’s tone was even, but not cold.
Ichigo shifted his weight, suddenly acutely aware of the space, of the people. “You sound like Rukia.”
Byakuya’s mouth twitched. Barely. “She is persistent.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Kenpachi snorted. “He means annoying.”
Byakuya glared at him. “Captain Zaraki insisted on coming. I am here to ensure he does not destroy public property.”
Kenpachi laughed. “He’s worried about me.”
“I am worried about everyone else.”
Ichigo glanced between them, tension humming under his skin. Seeing them here, together, relaxed in a way he wasn’t used to, felt weird to say the least.
Rukia spotted it and before matters could escalate she stepped in between them. “We’re just getting ready to leave. Almost everyone is here.” She said, clapping her hands together.
“What do you mean by ‘almost’? There’s still more to come?” Ichigo asked in disbelief.
Rukia opened her mouth to explain herself. “Before you ask—”
“I am asking,” Ichigo said. “Who else is here?”
“Not the Captain-Commander,” she said easily. “He claimed he has earned the right to nap uninterrupted for three days. He sent Lieutenant Ise instead. But he stayed because half the Gotei captains being in the world of the living leaves Soul Society vulnerable to attacks.”
“Captain Kotetsu is covering infirmary rotations,” Rukia continued. “Captain Iba volunteered to stay behind to keep things running smoothly.”
Ichigo blinked. “And—”
“Captain Kurotsuchi is banned from unsupervised beach environments,” Renji said flatly.
“That’s… fair.”
A sudden burst of cold air swept through the room.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō stood near the doorway now, arms folded tightly. “I did not volunteer for this.”
Rangiku draped herself over him immediately. “Don’t be like that, Captain. You can’t leave me alone.”
“That,” he snapped, “is exactly why I couldn’t stay behind.”
Nearby, Soifon appeared out of nowhere, arms crossed, eyes sharp. “I was informed Yoruichi-sama would be attending.”
Ichigo glanced around. “She hasn’t—”
Right on cue, the back door slid open.
“Miss me?”
Yoruichi strolled in like she owned the place, hands behind her head, smiling brightly. Soifon stiffened instantly.
“Yoruichi-sama!”
Ichigo exhaled slowly. “This is not a beach trip,” he muttered. “This is more like an invasion.”
A sudden honk blared from outside.
Everyone froze.
Then Kisuke Urahara’s voice floated in cheerfully. “Allllll aboard!”
Ichigo stepped outside, and stopped dead.
A bus.
A full-sized, unmistakably human-world bus sat parked outside the shop, engine idling. And behind the wheel…
Kisuke Urahara, wearing a floral shirt, bucket hat, and sunglasses.
“We’re going in that?” Ichigo asked, incredulously.
Rangiku clapped her hands together. “I told you! If we’re in the human world, we’re traveling properly!”
“We could’ve just opened a Senkaimon. Would save us so much time,” Ichigo argued.
“And miss the bonding experience?” Shinji grinned. “Nah.”
Urahara leaned out the window. “Everyone, get in your gigais! Safety belts are optional but encouraged! Snacks are not optional, please share!”
The bus doors hissed open.
Chaos surged forward.
People argued over seats immediately. Rangiku claimed the front row “for the view.” Kenpachi tried to duck into the back and nearly took out a luggage rack. Ikkaku and Yumichika were still arguing, now about who got the aisle. Nanao hovered near the steps like she might bolt.
Ichigo was still staring at Urahara.
“You’re driving,” he said flatly.
Kisuke grinned from behind the wheel. “I passed my license test fair and square, Kurosaki-san.”
Ichigo did not believe that for a second.
Before he could voice another objection, a familiar pressure brushed the edge of his senses.
Lighter than the captains’. Warm. Gentle.
His breath caught.
“Sorry we’re late!”
Orihime’s voice cut through the noise like sunlight breaking cloud cover.
Ichigo turned.
She stood just inside the shop doorway with Chad and Uryū beside her, a small overnight bag slung over one shoulder. Her hair was tied back loosely, a few strands already escaping, and she was smiling, bright, and open.
The room changed.
But the tension eased. Conversations softened. Even Rangiku paused mid-laugh to wave.
“Good morning!” Orihime said cheerfully, already stepping inside. “Wow, there are so many people! This feels like a school trip.”
“ORIHIMEEE-CHAN!” Rangiku called, instantly abandoning her seat choice and swooping in to loop an arm around her shoulders. “You look adorable. Are you ready for sun, sand, and lots of free booze?”
Orihime laughed, flustered but delighted. “I—I think so! I brought sunscreen. And snacks. And um—” she gestured vaguely at her bag.
“That’s my girl.”
Ichigo stood very still.
He hadn’t meant to stare.
But his eyes tracked her anyway. The way she greeted everyone. Bowed politely to Momo. Smiled shyly at Shūhei. Greeted Nanao. She moved through the room like she belonged there.
Like she always had.
Then, without hesitation, she made a beeline straight past everyone else.
Towards the captain of the Sixth Division.
Ichigo’s stomach dropped.
“Inoue Orihime,” Byakuya said, inclining his head.
“O-oh! Good morning, Byakuya-san!” Orihime bowed, hands clasped in front of her. “Thank you so much for inviting us. I really appreciate it.”
“It was my suggestion,” he replied evenly. “I am pleased you accepted.”
She smiled wider. “I’m really happy to be here.”
Ichigo could have sworn—
He blinked.
Byakuya’s expression had softened.
Just a fraction. Barely there. But unmistakable.
He felt alarm bells go off in his head but was interrupted before he could act on his impulses.
“Okay!” Urahara clapped his hands loudly from outside. “Before we depart, let’s do a quick headcount so no one gets left behind!”
Everyone groaned but shuffled closer anyway.
Urahara counted once.
Paused.
Counted again.
“…Hm,” he said. “That’s odd.”
“What,” Ichigo said immediately. “What do you mean ‘odd’?”
Urahara peeked into the bus, then back at the group. “It appears we have… too many people.”
Rangiku leaned out a window. “That’s impossible. I counted.”
“You counted drinks,” Tōshirō snapped.
Urahara adjusted his hat. “The bus seats twenty-one. We are… twenty-seven.”
Silence.
Then—
“I can drive.”
All heads turned.
Uryū stood near the curb, hands in his coat pockets, expression calm as ever. “My car seats five comfortably. That solves the problem.”
Urahara’s eyes lit up. “Excellent idea!”
Ichigo blinked. “You drove?”
“I possess a license, Kurosaki,” Ishida said dryly. “And basic competence.”
Chad nodded once. “I’ll go with you.”
Orihime hesitated, then looked between them. “Um… me too, if that’s okay?”
Ichigo’s mouth moved before his brain caught up. “I’ll go too.”
Too fast.
Rukia and Renji exchanged a glance.
“Oh no you don’t,” Rukia said immediately. “If you’re riding separately, we are too.”
Renji slung an arm around Ichigo’s shoulders. “Road trip rules. Friends stick together.”
Shinji leaned out of the bus, scowling. “Oi! That’s unfair! I called dibs on Orihime-chan first! Leave her with us, take Hiyori instead!” Shinji shot back.
“I heard that, you baldy!” Hiyori shrieked.
“HEY—”
Urahara clapped again. “Alright, alright! Decision made! Kurosaki-san, Ishida-san, Sado-san, Inoue-san, Kuchiki-san—no, wait—there’s still less room in the bus. One more person will have to ride with Ishida-san.”
The silence that followed was brief.
“What do you mean one more?” Ichigo demanded. “There’s already 6 of us in the car.”
“I forgot to count myself,” Kisuke said cheerfully.
Immediate uproar.
“No way, I’m not squeezing any more. Send over Hisagi.” Ikkaku barked.
“Why don’t you go?” Shūhei argued back.
Kenpachi laughed loudly from the back. “Hah! I’ll ride in the car. Sounds fun.”
The temperature dropped.
Byakuya’s eyes flicked toward him. “No.”
Kenpachi grinned wider. “Why not?”
“Because,” Byakuya said calmly, “you would dismantle it.”
“Probably,” Kenpachi agreed, after a second thought.
“So that’s settled,” Kisuke chirped. “Not Zaraki-san.”
“Oi,” Rangiku said suddenly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she scanned the group. “What about Captain?”
Every head turned.
Tōshirō stiffened. “Why are you all looking at me?”
“You’re small,” Rangiku said, smiling sweetly.
“I am not small!”
“You’d fit, Captain Hitsugaya” Ikkaku added helpfully.
“I will not be stuffed into a human vehicle like excess luggage!”
“Everyone who votes for Captain Hitsugaya to ride with Kurosaki-san and company, raise your hand.” Urahara suddenly announced. All the shinigami in the room raised their hands simultaneously. “Congratulations, Captain Hitsugaya! You lost.”
“I OBJECT—!”
But it was futile. Tōshirō was pushed out of the bus and near the car.
But more complications soon arose as the car’s situation became painfully clear.
Uryū stood by the driver’s side, keys in hand, already exuding the air of someone who had accepted his fate. Chad had claimed the passenger seat immediately, purely on practical grounds. No one argued. His legs alone took up most of the space.
In the back, Renji had barely sat down before Rukia climbed over him without hesitation and plopped herself squarely into his lap, legs tucked up, arms crossed smugly.
“This is fine,” she said.
Renji’s face went red. “Rukia—!”
“Do you want me on the floor?” she asked innocently.
“…No.”
“Then hush.”
That left three people standing outside the car.
Orihime.
Ichigo.
And Tōshirō.
Uryū took one look at the space in the car, and paused.
“…There are only two seats,” he said.
Silence.
They all looked at the car. Then at each other. Then. Very deliberately.
No one looked at Tōshirō
Yoruichi broke first, leaning down to peer through the open window, eyes glittering with far too much interest. “Well. Someone’s going to have to sit on someone’s lap.”
Tōshirō’s eye twitched.
“No.”
Absolute, categorical refusal.
“Captain—” Rangiku started gently.
“No.”
“Shiro-chan—” Momo tried.
“I said no.”
No one pushed further.
No one was brave enough to.
Which left—
Ichigo felt it the second the weight of collective realization settled on him.
His shoulders tensed. He did not move.
Orihime blinked. Slowly. She flushed from the weight of everyone’s gazes that were on her and Ichigo at the moment.
Rangiku’s smile widened.
“Well,” she said, eyes flicking between them, utterly delighted. “If Orihime-chan feels uncomfortable, I could always switch with you and sit on Ichigo’s lap instead.”
Ichigo recoiled like he’d been struck by lightning. “Absolutely not!”
At the same time, Orihime made a small distressed sound. “W-What?! I-I don’t think—”
Renji barked out a laugh from the backseat. “Wow, didn’t even hesitate.”
“Shut up,” Ichigo snapped.
Rangiku pouted. “What? I was just offering alternatives.”
“No alternatives,” Tōshirō said sharply. “Figure it out.”
The air grew thick. Awkward.
“We don’t have all day!” Kenpachi complained, leaning out of the window from where he was seated in the bus.
Orihime hesitated, then took a breath. Her cheeks were pink, but her expression was determined in that quiet way she got when she’d already decided something.
“I can sit,” she said softly. “O-On Kurosaki-kun’s lap.”
Everyone froze.
Ichigo turned to her. “You don’t have to—”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly, waving a hand. “I mean, if it’s just for the ride. If you’re okay with it. I mean I’m not exactly light—”
That… wasn’t the issue.
Ichigo swallowed. His mouth was dry.
“…Are you sure?” he asked, quieter now.
She nodded, still not quite meeting his eyes. “Y-Yeah.”
Rangiku clasped her hands together, practically vibrating. “Oh, how adorable.”
“Get in the bus,” Tōshirō snapped at her, as he got into the car seat next to Rukia and Renji.
Then, with excruciating slowness, Ichigo slid into the backseat first, knees already cramped. Orihime followed, hesitating only a second before carefully lowering herself onto his lap.
She was warm. Too warm.
Ichigo went rigid.
His hands hovered uselessly at his sides, unsure where they were supposed to go, like touching her might break some unspoken rule. Orihime sat perfectly straight, hands folded in her lap, back not quite touching his chest.
They were both very aware of each other.
Every breath.
Every inch of space that didn’t exist.
“Everyone in?” Uryū asked.
No one answered.
He sighed and started the engine.
As the car pulled away, Ichigo stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, heart pounding far too fast for a simple car ride.
This was going to be—
He felt Orihime shift slightly, adjusting her balance.
—long.
Extremely long.