-oOo-

The sun's bright, the grass is green, and Ichigo is an idiot, as per the usual.

Walking amidst the living does her well, she thinks.

It taps a certain rhythm into her limbs that she's forgotten in the past few weeks. The smiles and the laughter come far more easily and genuinely than her stilted attempts back at Soul Society. Her body, thoroughly saturated in the Fourth's best painkillers, dances as it used to when she was in her prime. Almost all memory of her illness dissipates with the new dosage she sneakily pours into her tea. Normality revives what's left of Rukia's spirit.

"Midget, why're you in such a good mood?"

"Hmm?"

She grins widely at his scowl, because she knows that his displeasure is faux. It's his automatic reaction to put up a façade of some sort to hide everything else. But she can tell that Ichigo is as happy as he could be, following her as she looks through the shop windows with interest. Despite his frown lines, she can see the amusement and contentment he feels when he sees her equally so. That's just how their patterns functioned; like two gears, they feed off of each other's energy, moving together in sync.

"Did something happen at Soul Society? I thought you'd be more tired with all your lieutenant duties. You must be slacking off," he teases, though it's clear he's curious.

His question sends a pang through her chest. "You must be confusing me with you, Mr. Delinquent. I'm sure you're skipping class right now."

He sputters, but she simply guffaws at his stupid expression before pulling him to the next shop.

"Since I haven't been here in a while, buy me a new Chappy – the limited edition samurai Chappy!"

Kurosaki Ichigo halfheartedly protests before succumbing. He could never say no to her.

(307)

-oOo-