Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, just this story.

/

/

By Fives

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was a week old, and she was five, he met her.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Why can't you play today?" Momo queried.

Rukia adjusted her little backpack on her shoulders and tugged her sailor hat more securely on her head. "Mama wants me straight home, 'cause we're gonna see Aunt Masaki and Uncle Isshin's new baby."

Momo Hinamori squeaked happily, skipping a few steps ahead on the sidewalk. "So he's you're new cousin, Rukia?"

"Well, sort of. They're not really my aunt and uncle, but calling them Mr. and Mrs. Kurosaki would be too formal and stuffy." Rukia slipped her arm into Momo's. "Have you ever been around a baby before, Momo? I saw some babies in strollers once in the park, but I've never really met one."

"Oh, I've seen babies before! You're so lucky to go see one, Rukia! Babies are always soooooo cute!"

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"It's pretty cool how something can be kinda cute and really ugly at the same time."

"Rukia!"

Rukia turned from where she had been looking at the infant from the slats in the crib's bars and turned her dark blue gaze up at her mother. "What? It's true, Mama! He's tiny, and his face is sorta scrunched up…"

Masaki laughed lightly at the mortified look on Hisana's face. The woman had clearly forgotten just how far a child's candor could extend. "Never mind, Hisana, it's all right. If that's her opinion, that's her opinion; it's better than the people who say he's beautiful only because it's the polite thing to say."

"Well, I truly think he's handsome. But maybe it's because I know from experience that newborns quickly grow into plump, adorable toddlers." Hisana glanced lovingly at her husband. "Remember how Rukia looked when she was born?"

Byakuya chuckled briefly, his stern demeanor momentarily fading. "I was half afraid she'd quit breathing—her face strongly resembled a tomato from how hard she was squalling."

Isshin ruffled Rukia's dark hair. "You didn't have it so bad. I was the one who delivered her, so I got an earful of it!"

"I did not squall!" Rukia protested, causing them all to laugh softly, mindful of the sleeping baby.

"What's his name, Masaki?"

The new mother smiled, leaning over the crib to pick up her son.

"Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki."

Rukia giggled. "Strawberry Kurosaki? That's funny, Aunt Masaki!"

Before her parents could scold her, Masaki took Rukia's hand and lead her over to the rocking chair in the corner. "It's written differently than the word 'strawberry' though. We chose to spell it as 'first' and 'guardian'.

"Ichigo's name means, 'one who protects'," Isshin piped up.

Rukia was surprised to find herself in the chair, with the new baby settled on her lap. "He's so small!"

"Five pounds, six ounces. He's puny now, but he'll grow quickly, believe me."

"Will I be able to play with him?"

"Soon, sweetie."

She looked down and jolted at the sight of the baby's small, open eyes staring up at her. He wriggled his arm out of his blanket and began waving it. "He's awake, Auntie! Oh, please don't cry, please don't cry, please don't—"

Her tiny hand met his tinier one. She gasped as his miniscule paw wrapped around her pinky finger.

"I take that back; I guess he is pretty cute. Can I be his big sister?"

Masaki patted her cheek. "We would be honored."

Rukia gently shook his hand with her little finger, and initiated the pinky swear—this arrangement would have to do, since she doubted his tiny pinky could entwine with hers at this point.

"I'll be a good big sister to you, and I'll never leave you. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…"

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was five, and she was ten, he pledged himself to her.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Rukia-nee!"

Where was she? Ichigo leaned against a tree, panting. His heart was pounding, not because he'd been running, but because he couldn't find her. Hide and Seek was one of their favorite games, but it had been forever since he closed his eyes and started counting, listening to her feet crunching through leaves, away from him.

What if he couldn't find her? What if some big kids had come to the park and found her, and they were bullying her and hurting her right this very second! He couldn't let that happen!

Ichigo growled at the very thought of his Rukia-nee getting hurt. He scanned the ground and spotted a thin stick lying among the golden leaves—a fallen tree branch that was about as tall as he. He grabbed it and took off, his legs pumping as fast a five-year-old's possibly could.

"Ichigo!"

He ground to a halt and whipped the stick before him. "Who goes there?!"

"Ichigo! Up here, silly goose!"

The little boy looked up, craning his neck as far back as he could without tumbling backward.

There she was, sitting in the tree, swinging her legs and giggling.

"I can't believe you never thought to look up! You know I like heights!"

Ichigo sighed, closed his eyes, and flopped back unto the pile of leaves gathered at the tree's trunk. "You scared me, Rukia-nee! It was taking forever to find you. I thought something bad had happened."

He heard her swiftly clamber down the tree's trunk. "Oh Ichigo…" His eyes slid open when he felt Rukia's shadow covering his face from the sun. "I'm in charge of you when we're out playing, so I'd never go far from you. I'd never leave you. Don't you remember me telling you about my pinky promise?"

"Yeah…" An idea struck him. Ichigo crawled out of the leaves and snatched his makeshift weapon up again.

"What are you doing?"

He held the stick out to her. "Dub me."

"…Huh?"

"It's what they did in the West years ago, when that King Arthur guy was alive! You dub me a knight, and then I swear faulty to you!"

Rukia giggled and took the stick. "Um…don't you mean fealty?"

"Yeah, that. Loyalty, allyjunce—"

"Allegiance."

"Whatever! Same difference!"

"But why would you want to do that?"

He bent down on one knee before her. "You watch my back all the time—but I want to watch yours too!" Ichigo stared straight at her, his brown eyes suddenly burning in the autumn light in a way that always got to her deep inside—a boy with a man's gaze. "I wanna be your knight."

Rukia couldn't refuse him. Ichigo's "sword" solemnly brushed one shoulder, then the other while she said:

"I hereby dub thee: Sir Ichigo Kurosaki, Knight of Karakura."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was ten, and she was fifteen, things began to change.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"I don't know why you're so bent out of shape."

Ichigo's reply was a scowl. He dropped into the chair at Rukia's desk, absently picking up a pencil to whack against the head of the Chappy the Rabbit plushy she always kept there.

"Stop doing—" Rukia jerked the pencil out of his grasp. "Look, Ichigo, I'm sorry, but I'm going to the gathering whether you like it or not."

"But it's for high schoolers!" Why couldn't she understand his reasoning? It was so glaringly obvious!

"Ichigo, I am a high schooler!"

"But you're a freshman! Didn't you say there's gonna be second- and third years there? That's asking for trouble! I mean, they're almost grown up, and all they think about is drinking, and-and-s-s-s-sex!" His face glowed with the effort of forcing out such an embarrassing word.

Rukia sighed and planted her hands on each of the chair's armrests. "It's not asking for trouble!" She leaned forward, glaring. "They're all great people. They don't do drugs or alcohol or any of that other crap. We're meeting at that fast food joint on 22nd Street for God's sake!"

She jerked away and went to rummage through her closet. "If my dad, Mr. Why-Does-My-Daughter-Need-A-Social-Life, doesn't mind my going, then it's certainly not your place to put in your two cents worth! I don't even know why I'm explaining myself to you."

Ichigo rose angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rukia tugged on a lavender button-up shirt over her pale blue tank top and proceeded to hurriedly roll up the sleeves. He angrily pinched himself when he realized he was disappointed at how the shirt covered the porcelain arms he'd never paid any mind to before, and the soft-looking, moving, mysterious curves that filled out her top.

"You're a kid, Ichigo. I know I'm not exactly an adult myself yet, but I'm a lot further on that road than you are. I'm not interested in playing soccer or Hide and Seek in the park everyday like we used to do. I want to hang out with kids…my own age."

His lungs seized. His heart froze. Why didn't she just pick up the desk chair and whack him in the gut?

"So that's it." He padded methodically over to her. "You think I'm a baby, and you don't wanna be stuck baby-sitting anymore."

She sucked in a breath, immediately regretting how much her words hurt him. "Ichigo, you know I didn't mean it that way."

"Hey, it's fine, I get it. Though it's funny, isn't it? I'm the kid, but I'm already three inches taller than you. You're a shrimp, you know that?"

Rukia wouldn't be distracted by petty jibes. "I'm sorry you're feeling left out. But…it's just so different from when we were both in grade school. You're in fourth grade, Ichigo, and I'm in high school now. They're whole different worlds." She reached up and cupped his cheek.

"You're still my best friend, my little brother…but I'm growing up really fast now. And you still have a few years to enjoy being a kid. I don't want to drag you faster than you're meant to grow…and I don't want you to hold me back either. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to say it any other way."

He avoided her eyes. She understood; she suddenly hated herself right now for saying what had to be said. She tugged his head down and planted a kiss on his bright hair.

Rukia grabbed her purse, about to walk out. "Um…I'll tell you about the party later. I'll invite Momo over tomorrow, I know you think she's nice…and I'll ask Renji and Nanao over too. I know they'd be interested in meeting you…because I talk about you all the time."

She left, leaving the light scent of jasmine perfume in her wake.

Ichigo let his fists clench.

He realized what was so glaringly obvious, that nebulous concept that he'd felt so strongly, but couldn't find a name for.

It was the fact that she was unwittingly breaking their promise; she was moving away from him.

And it would be years before he could do anything about it.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was fifteen, and she was twenty, he declared his intentions.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Hey."

Rukia stuck her hands on her hips, mock frowning at him. "You haven't seen me in months and all you can say is 'Hey'? What the hell, Ichigo!"

Ichigo smirked and came down the front steps, his eyes trailing over her. Rukia had grown to be the very image of Hisana, indigo eyes, flipped black hair, short stature, and all. "How could I miss you when you email me so much? Is college that boring?"

"You little—"

"Shut up and c'mere." He opened his arms and enveloped her.

He'd never tell anyone, but with her body pressed against his and his nose reveling in her softly scented hair, it felt like he was the one coming home.

"Wow, someone's been working out!" With the irreverence of someone who had known him since he was born, she yanked up his shirt to reveal his lightly muscled stomach. "Aiming for a six pack, Ichigo?" She whacked his abdomen, a blow he obviously barely felt.

"Jeez, Rukia, don't strip me in broad daylight, dummy!" He batted her hand away and tugged his shirt back in place.

She aimed a light kick at his shin; she may have looked like Hisana, but the fire and teasing sense of humor was all Rukia. She pouted. "You're not gonna call me Rukia-nee, for old times' sake?"

"It's too childish." And there's no way I can address you like you're my sister. Not now.

But of course, she couldn't know that. He watched her bounce up to his front door, chatting about how it took forever to excuse herself from her house.

"…From the way Mom and Dad were behaving, you would think I'd come back from the dead instead of coming back for summer break. Hey, invite me in, I wanna see Yuzu and Karin. And I need to regale you with tales of my exciting college experience!" She bumped open the door with her hip. "Karin! Yuzu! Your big sis is home!"

Ichigo heard the sounds of his parents exclaiming delightedly that their "third daughter" was back in town, and the yells (Karin) and squeals (Yuzu) of excitement as the twins pounded down the stairs.

It would be a while before he could talk to her by himself, he deduced.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

After his family was finished visiting with her, Ichigo invited Rukia up to his room to talk.

"Your room's always so Spartan."

"The less stuff I have, the less stuff I have to keep track of and clean up."

Ichigo sat on his bed, idly strumming his guitar. "So…your university sounds pretty exciting."

"It is, but that doesn't mean I don't care what goes on back here." Her eyes took on a sly gleam. "Sooooo….has my little brother gotten himself a girlfriend yet?"

The guitar let out a rough twang as his fingers slipped. "No! Of course not! None of the girls here are interesting."

"Oh, but plenty of the girls are interested in you, my friend. What about Tatsuki?"

"She's just a friend. Besides, she's mooning over Renji; she was caught three times texting him in class."

"Renji and Tatsuki are together?!" Rukia huffed indignantly. "He didn't tell me! What's the point of having three classes together if he doesn't tell me about these things!"

"He knew you'd tease him relentlessly."

"No, I'd just gush about how cute it is."

"Which is just as bad."

"What about Ryo? Mahana? Michiru? Orihime? Chizuru?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Acquaintance, acquaintance, acquaintance, friend who's dating Uryuu, and lesbian."

Rukia stared at him. "Chizuru swings the other way? I didn't know that."

"You were never there when Tatsuki got mad at her for perving on Orihime. We call her Tatsuki's Punching Bag."

"Wow…" Rukia crossed over to sit with him. She clapped his back. "Guess you're outta luck for girlfriend prospects."

"I don't mind."

"You're fifteen and your hormones haven't kicked in yet?"

"I never said that."

Rukia sighed. "Is there no one you're interested in?"

Ichigo set aside his guitar. "…Yes. There is one girl."

She laughed. "Finally! A sign that you're normal! Who is she?"

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'm not sure you want to know."

"Don't be stupid, of course I want to know! Tell me."

He pulled back ever so slightly, his brown eyes locking with her blue.

You knew it would come to this, Ichigo.

Ichigo pressed his lips onto hers.

Rukia made a funny, shocked sound deep in her throat. Ichigo's brain shut down conscious thought—it was too swamped with just feeling, absorbing, savoring the warmth and softness of her mouth, how his one hand slipped so effortlessly onto her waist, how the other fisted into such thick, soft hair.

She was just as thrown as he was. All she could register was the heat surrounding her, from the mouth inexpertly nudging and pressing against hers to the strong hand massaging her scalp to the lightning streaks sizzling through her chest and belly and thighs.

Closer.

Her tongue peeped out, licked lightly at his lips. He leapt at the blatant invitation, parting his lips, eager for her to tutor him. He rumbled low in his chest. She shivered in response, the funny little sounds continuing.

They needed to get closer.

His hand lovingly swept her breast—

And Ichigo found himself staring at the ceiling above his bed, smarting from where Rukia shoved him in the chest.

Rukia had fallen to the floor, panting, and scared as hell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I shouldn't have—grabbed you like that."

Rukia lifted her horrified gaze to his. "Are you kidding? We shouldn't have done—any of that! Oh God!"

She scrambled up and hauled herself into his desk chair, putting further distance between them.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Ichigo! The way I kissed you—oh my God!"

"I'm not sorry." He watched her freeze. "I'll never be sorry. I started that kiss and I didn't want it to end," he finished defiantly.

"Ichigo…you're my friend. My little brother—"

"Not any more." He slammed a fist into his pillow. "I'm not your brother, and God knows you're not my sister!"

She stared at him, shell-shocked. "Just…just how long have you felt this way?"

"At least five years," he said quietly. "Probably more than that. Five years of waiting before I'd be old enough for you to even consider me."

"Ichigo—I still think of you as my brother! Hell, you're five years younger than me, I might as well turn myself in as a pedophile!"

Ichigo gritted his teeth at her reaction. "You better start changing your way of thinking, Rukia, because I'm becoming a man, a man who wants and needs you. I'll be a man worthy of you, one you can't turn away." He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his heart. "I don't care what you say: when I come for you, you won't be able to resist."

Ichigo leaned in and whispered in her ear. He didn't need to look at her to know she went absolutely white.

The Kurosaki family was shocked and worried at how Rukia ran out of their house. Their worry deepened when, at subsequent get-togethers with the Kuchikis, Rukia never once spoke to Ichigo.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was twenty, and she was twenty-five, he came for her.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

For five years, they never spoke of it.

After that summer, her emails were less frequent, and far briefer. Ichigo decided that he would only discuss the incident with her if she wrote about it first.

She didn't.

She came home for the Christmas breaks, and in the summers, but they exchanged few words beyond the mandatory greetings and how-are-you's. When she graduated, she got a job at a little bookstore, Ukitake's Book Nook, in the nearby town of Inuzuri—close enough to Karakura to visit her parents, far enough to serve as an excuse to not stop by the Kurosakis' too often. The avoidance of their house was hardly necessary though, once Ichigo left for the dorms at Karakura University.

It was early December when they next met. A light sprinkling of snow had dusted the streets, gathering in the corners of the shop's window, somehow making the holly, garlands, and miniature Christmas tree in the window display even merrier. People had been in and out of the store all day—such was the Christmas shopping season. It was a half hour until closing when the owner, Juushiro Ukitake, decided to cut his exhausted employees some slack.

"Nanao, Uryuu, Rukia," he called from the front desk (also festooned with holly), "no one's going to come in this late in the evening. Someone go to the backroom and tell Kiyone and Sentaro that we're calling it quits."

The trio had settled in a far corner of the shop, sitting on the green carpeting, partially hidden by the beautiful oak shelves as they steadily plowed through books needing to be catalogued and shelved. Rukia giggled when Nanao Ise and Uryuu Ishida both pushed up their glasses simultaneously.

"Are you sure, Mr. Ukitake?"

"Yes, Uryuu, perfectly sure. Go home, where I'm sure Orihime will make sure to pry your medical schoolbooks from you," he said, referring to Uryuu's wife. "I know studying is like breathing to you, an admirable trait, but you can have too much of a good thing. And you had best get home as well, Nanao."

She frowned. "I'd rather not, sir."

"Why not? This is, what, the fifth night in a row Shunsui has serenaded you at your window?"

"With all due respect, sir, perhaps if your friend froze certain parts of his anatomy off in the freezing weather, he'd learn that my appreciation of his attentions is just as frosty."

Rukia couldn't help but chime in. "But you've got to admire his tenacity, Nanao."

"If I wanted tenacity, I'd get a terrier."

"Don't get all stuffy, you know you like him!"

Nanao hid her face with a book. "Shut up, Rukia."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

After assuring Ukitake that she didn't mind locking up, and would only be a few minutes behind him, Rukia was alone in the shop. She liked closing the shop, actually; where some people would find an empty, dimly-lit store creepy, she never felt alone surrounded by all the people inhabiting the store's books.

Abruptly, the bell above the door jangled ten minutes before she could officially lock the door.

She sighed and turned. "Hello, how can I help—"

She stopped in her tracks.

The tall man tugged off his stocking cap, revealing bright orange hair.

"Ichigo."

"Hey."

She gave herself a mental shake and cleared her throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom wanted me to come and personally invite you to our Christmas party."

"…And you waited until nine o'clock at night to do so?"

He shrugged. "I was kinda torn. I wanted to do it, but I wasn't sure if you'd try and get me escorted off the premises or not."

"Silly, I'd never do that." Rukia picked up a stack of books and began sliding them into the shelf opposite the front counter, an excuse to avoid his eyes. "Now come straight with me."

"Huh?" He stripped off his coat and laid it on the front counter, then proceeded to swipe the snow off his jeans.

"You really thought I'd buy a flimsy lie like that? I still know you too well to believe that."

Ichigo laughed. "Caught me. It's not a lie; it's just not my main reason."

"Which is?"

"I wanted to see you." His eyes trailed over her slim figure in loose violet sweater and khakis she wore, and noted how her hair was as dark and pretty as ever, slightly mussed from running around the shop all day.

Rukia set the books back down. "Well, I don't want to see you." Especially when you've become so handsome. "I thought I made that clear the past five times in the past month you've tried to contact me!"

"I won't accept no," he said quietly. "Not until you answer me."

She swept her hair back, tempted to yank at it in frustration. He's always been hardheaded and stubborn, that'll never change.

"Answer you about what?"

Ichigo leaned against the counter, fighting the urge to reach for her. "I want you to give me an answer to what I told you the day I kissed you."

As Byakuya's daughter, Rukia had quickly learned how to school her face to be totally expressionless, a trick that served her well. Only Ichigo could see the quick flash of fear in her eyes before they went blank.

"That's a pretty random topic to bring up. After five years, you're suddenly burning with the desire for my reply?"

"Patience has never been my strong point," he admitted, "but you're important—" everything "—to me, so I knew I should give you whatever time you needed. And I was still a kid then, I needed to finish growing up before I could even think about you…being with me."

"So what changed? Your patience finally snapped?"

"I guess you could say that." Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "Kaien Shiba cut the strings."

Rukia turned her head—her emotionless trick couldn't surpress a blush. "Who told you?"

"Renji. He was mentioning how nice he'd been to you, setting you up on a date with Shiba, and how well you two seemed to hit it off." He hoped Renji's jaw was still smarting from where Ichigo had socked him—the poor idiot thought Ichigo's passion was a little crush and nothing of great import, and so he hadn't thought twice about asking Kaien Shiba to show his normally solitary bachelorette friend a nice time at the movies.

"Well, you're right, I am seeing Kaien. It's amazing how well we suit each other," Rukia said breezily. "He's kind, and quite handsome. He owns Central 46, that restaurant in southern Karakura. And he's very mature, quite suave."

"He looks a bit older than you, at least from the picture Renji showed me." Before I punched him.

"Yeah, yeah he is," she said casually. She smiled a little. "I guess I have a thing for older men."

She waited for him to snap at her blatant insult, but Ichigo just smiled at her.

"There's something else I noticed too." He reached into his front shirt pocket and drew out Kaien's picture.

"If his hair were orange instead of black, he'd look just like me."

Rukia paled. "That has nothing to do with anything! It's just a coincidence!"

"If you're happy with this new guy, and you don't give a damn about me, why won't you answer me then?" He slapped the picture on the counter. "You never said yes, so you didn't accept me, but you never said no either! So here I am, dangling by my heartstrings, and you're my puppeteer. Is there something keeping you from rejecting me outright, or do you just get a kick outta leaving me hanging?"

"You really think I'd be that cruel?" She pushed away from the shelf and stalked toward him. "Forgive me for thinking what we did—what I did—was wrong, that this whole thing is completely insane!"

"That amazing kiss? My heart laid out for you to inspect? The fact that I didn't—don't—love you like a brother, or a friend—"

"Shut up, Ichigo!"

"—But as a man? That's all wrong?!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" She slapped her hands on the counter, trapping him in. She glared up at him, completely disregarding the fact she was trying to intimidate a man nearly a foot taller than her. "It's not just because I acted like your big sister for so long! There's an age difference to consider as well, you fool!"

Ichigo stared down at her as though she'd utterly lost it. "Our ages?"

"Yes, idiot! You may be legal now, but you're still in college. You should be going out with girls your own age, enjoying the height of your young adulthood, not pining after a woman who'll be hitting the big Three-Oh in a few years!"

"I don't give a damn about that, Rukia."

"You will! Think about it—I'll get old, and look old, before you, when you could be running around with a prettier, taller, bustier woman instead. And I'm stubborn, and difficult, and outspoken, and—"

"Perfect for me." He had listed to her rant with a smile on his face. His hand smoothed the back of her head, tickled the nape of her neck. "Any other woman would be bore me to tears. No other woman could capture me like you have."

A good dose of fear was mixing with her fury. She tried struggling out of his embrace. "God dammit, when did you get so silvertongued?!"

"I've changed quite a bit," he said simply. His arms tightened around her, gently pinning her. "But not my feelings about you. I still want you, and need you, and at the rate I'm going I'll go to my grave feeling this way. Rukia."

She raised her face and glared at him.

"At this point, our ages don't matter much. We're both adults! I mean, my dad's seven years older than Mom, but it's never been a problem for them, 'cause it doesn't matter to them, and they love each other regardless. You don't think we could be like that? You don't think we could be happy, if only we gave it a shot?"

Rukia trained her eyes on the buttons closing his shirt. She'd be damned if he saw her eyes tearing up.

"…I can't lose you."

She felt him go still.

"My parents, and yours, and your sisters… They've always been there for me. I know they'll always love and accept me. But you…you've always been different.

"You're my constant, my touchstone, my lighthouse. When you were a week old, you wrapped your tiny finger around mine, and my heart, and you never let go."

Damn it, she had to look up at him, she had to see his eyes and know he understood what she was trying to say, the truth she'd viciously smothered for years, the truth that she refused to acknowledge, but was so powerful it had drawn her to this man's older, darker version.

"The way I felt about you changed! You were growing up so fast, I could hardly believe it! You've always looked older, more mature, than you are." She shook her head despairingly. "It wasn't just your looks that grew, but your wit and intellect and that stubborn sense of right and wrong—they—they deepened, and it was—attractive. And sometimes, I'd catch you looking at me, and I thought I'd see something in your face, but I thought I was imagining things. I thought I was losing my mind, thinking that way! And then…and then a year after started thinking those things…I came home from college and you kissed me."

Her fingers clutched his shirt, but he didn't mind. His eyes were wide at the revelation that his early awareness of his best friend hadn't been one-sided.

"If you felt that way…why did you—"

"I was scared, you idiot, I was scared out of my mind! Even if you were my age, and didn't think of you as a sibling, I would still have pushed you away. Because," she hissed, imploring him to understand, "if things didn't work out, if I screwed up, I'd lose my constant! And I could never do that, I could never lose you like that!"

"I think you're the idiot."

Rukia went rigid. "What?" She had just poured her soul to him, and he called her an idiot? A murderous rage flared up within her.

Ichigo slipped down to his knees—for once, he had to look up a bit to be on eye-level with her.

"It takes to two to screw up a relationship. We've already been screwing things up for years now—if you had trusted me enough to tell me your fears, and I'd been smart enough to try and figure your fears out for myself, we wouldn't have spent all this time growing apart." His fingers laced with hers. "Give me a chance, Rukia, give us a chance."

A tear had managed to leak from one of her dark blue eyes. "Repeat the question."

"What?" It had been more of a plea than a question.

"The question from that day. Repeat it."

Ah. Now he understood. He leaned in, his lips brushing her cheek. "I love you, Rukia. I love you so much. When the time comes, will you be mine?"

She turned, her forehead pressing against his, and looked into his expectant brown gaze.

"Yes."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Thanks for coming out on such short notice, Shunsui."

Ukitake slammed down his car's hood and slipped his fedora back on his pale head. He crossed over to shake his best friend's hand. "As thanks for helping me start my engine, why not drop by my place for some hot coffee? You look like you could use it."

Shunsui Kyouraku laughed and stroked his goatee, shoving his other hand into his leather jacket's pocket. His brown pony-tailed hair and his pink scarf, embroidered with sakura petals, flapped in the cold night air. "I'd like that very much, as long as you slip a bit of sake into it. And it was no trouble anyway, Juushiro, I was already in the neighborhood."

"How did Nanao chase you away this time?"

He pulled a tragic face. "She waited until I was right under her balcony, then dumped a huge bucket of water over the side! I barely dodged in time. But Old Bessie and I—" He jerked a thumb back to his car, where a guitar was propped up in the passenger seat. "—are still determined!"

"If she didn't actually like you, she'd have called the police by now, you do realize that?"

"Yep. But victory isn't won until she admits it outright."

Juushiro shook his head and turned back to his vehicle—when something caught his eye. He had parked right in front of his shop, and, preoccupied with his stalled engine as he was, hadn't noticed the lights were still on, when Rukia should have closed ten minutes ago.

He stepped in the middle of the deserted street, wondering if something was wrong—when he saw Rukia.

Sitting on the front counter.

Quite ardently kissing an orange-haired young man.

"Something wrong, Juu-san…? Oh." Shunsui saw the couple as well. "Oh. Oh ho ho ho!"

They were both surprised to see Rukia legs on Ichigo's hips, their arms wrapped around each other, mouths melded together. Her fingers tangled in his hair, while his hand slipped onto her bottom and tugged her closer.

"That's one of your…?"

"Employees, yes."

"…You gonna do anything about it?"

He thought for a moment…then shrugged. "No. No, I don't think so. Rukia needs more excitement in her life, and I have a feeling she's getting quite a Christmas present right now. Besides…" Juushiro turned, wearing a smile, and went back to his car.

"…I'm sure they'll remember to close up eventually."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When he was twenty-five, and she was thirty, it had all come full circle.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"I'm surprised at how well they get along."

Ichigo smiled when Chihiro, little raven-haired, golden brown-eyed Chihiro, who hated parting with her stuffed rabbit, voluntarily placed it in front of her playmate. It was quite a generous feat for a girl three years of age.

Four-year-old Sora Ishida stared at it for a moment, then gently took it in his little grasp. His brown eyes stared at the younger child in seeming adoration.

"Thank you, Chihiro," he said with a shy smile.

Uryuu smiled at the scene. "Yeah, maybe because we're normally at loggerheads, it means our kids will automatically interact nicely. These things work out that way sometimes."

Rukia and Orihime came up behind their husbands sitting on the park bench. Rukia looped her arms around Ichigo's neck.

"Nanao and Shunsui are here."

"That's good, I thought they'd be late," Ichigo replied.

Soon, Sakura Kyouraku, who at three years old already looked the very image of her mother (minus the glasses), was playing with the other two. In a manner also reminiscent of Nanao, Sakura had insisted on bringing several picture books to show her friends.

Juushiro, Isshin, and Renji were already surrounding the grill, arguing on how to prepare the food, at what temperature the grill would be ready, and how long to leave the food on. Byakuya looked on in distaste, quietly remarking that many cooks spoil the dinner. Sentaro and Kiyone looked about ready kill each other with their knives in a disagreement over the proper preparation of shish kabobs, not having heard Byakuya's remarks at all. Hisana and Masaki laughed at the chaotic scene, while Karin and Yuzu chatted with Tatsuki, offering congratulations on her and Renji's decision to start a family. Momo Hinamori was in attendance, talking intently with her new sweetheart, Juushiro's nephew Toushiro Hitsugaya. Kisuke and Yoruichi Urahara, friends of the Kurosakis and Chihiro's godparents, were also present, and seemed intent on needling Byakuya until he finally snapped. Nanao batted Shunsui away when he dove in for a quick kiss, but wasn't really mad. Seconds later, she slipped her hand into his much larger one.

"We've rounded up all these people for her birthday," Rukia said with a chuckle, "but all Chihiro really cares about is playing with Sora and Sakura."

Ichigo watched as Sakura read aloud to her friends from a little cardboard storybook.

" 'This is a duck. Look at the small yellow duck…"

Chihiro and Sora paid polite attention to her. Then, Sora took Chihiro's hand in his own.

Chihiro giggled, then reached over to muss his dark hair.

"When I look at them, I'm reminded of us," Ichigo said quietly.

"Yeah. But there's only one year between them, so hopefully things will be a bit easier for them, if, you know, they really do become like us," Rukia whispered happily.

Ichigo wrapped an arm around Rukia. "Hey, we got to where we were meant to be eventually. Speaking of which, we didn't really do anything special for our fourth anniversary. Whaddaya say we plan a vacation for our fifth? Let Chihiro stay with your parents or mine, and we'll go somewhere for a few days."

Rukia smiled. "Sounds good to me. We really do need to do something special for our next anniversary. After all, the number five has always been a good one for us."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah

Hullo! Sheherazade here. Thanks for slogging through yet another long long long one-shot. Hopefully quality makes up for the overbearing quantity.

First off, a thousand thanks to DeviantHollow23, GinNeko, JadeRent, and CharmedNightSkye for reviewing the last one-shot! Reviews make my day, so thanks bunches.

This "little" story popped up when I had a migraine and I was trying to think of anything to distract me from my pounding pain and general misery. Thinking up another Ichiruki one-shot seemed a good distraction, so I went with it. I was hoping to post this before I left for the Philippines, but that didn't happen, so I had to finish it on my uncle's computer an ocean away from home.

I thought it would be interesting if Ichigo and Rukia were in a real world Alternate Universe setting, and still had an age difference. Instead of a 150 years age gap though, it's just five years here. I especially had fun writing ten year old Ichigo's reaction to high schooler Rukia's friends. I tried to write them as realistically as possible as kids—I'm not around younger kids that much, but I can remember pretty well how it felt at those ages. For Ichigo (age ten), I remembered thinking at his age that high school kids were pratically grow-ups and sooooo oooooold and probably had learned everything they needed to know by then. And now I'm about to be a senior in high school, and I still feel childish and young, though outwardly I'm quite mature.

Also: about the previous piece, With Friends Like These—I realized I'd misspelled Johnny Walker, the alcohol, it should be Johnnie Walker. But I've decided to keep the misspelling, because it made me LOL at my total ignorance of alcoholic beverages.

Quick comment on the Philippines: If it wasn't for the relatives we're visiting, I'd want to leave pronto, just to get away from the humidity. How does everyone deal with the humidity, in the name of God?! What people think is a cold snap here would be considered a heat wave back home (I live in the Midwest). Other than that, the place has beautiful scenery, and the seafood's great.

Thanks for reading this humble piece of work! Please Review!