To say that Isshin had strange ideas about romance was like saying orange hair wasn't that uncommon in Japan. Masaki had, on some level, known that. The man was strange in a lot of other ways, as well. Because, well…what sort of grown man, what sort of medical student, has so much trouble with a juice box or vending machines?
She'd known him a week, but he'd come flying at her one day, proclaiming his everlasting love for her loudly and in front of everyone. He thought it was very romantic when she slapped his face for his troubles.
He'd also thought it romantic to follow her around singing (very corny) love songs, and giving her (extremely poor) haikus he'd written. And he thought it twice as romantic when she threw things at him or when she kicked him in the face for disrupting her lunches.
'Masaki is so cruel to her beloved Isshin!' He'd wail, before recommencing his singing, or handing her another haiku or showering her with sakura petals.
His proposal, though, was unexpected, and completely out of character for the man she'd known so far. She had run into him one night, standing alone under the stars. She hadn't recognized him at first he was so still. He was smoking. Masaki thought he looked very attractive like that, leaning against a tree, cigarette in hand and she told him so.
Instead of the love song, or terrible poetry she'd come to expect from him, though, she got a warm look, and a gorgeous smile. So she hadn't moved on, but stayed there, and watched the stars, and Isshin.
He'd put out his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe, and asked her, quite seriously, if she thought she could marry a man like him. Masaki had said yes, quite taken with this calm Isshin. He'd kissed her and put a ring on her finger before whooping loudly, picking her up and spinning her around.
'Masaki, my beloved, let us get married immediately and have children! I want an Ichigo, a Karin and a Yuzu!' He'd proclaimed, still spinning her in the air.
Masaki had laughed, and thought only Isshin would want to name their children after cough-drop flavours.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. This is real in my mind only.