Title: Brush Strokes

Rating: PG-13

Series: Bleach

Pairing: IchixIshi

NEEEEEEEW FANFICTION. I wanted to write more Bleach fan fiction so here it is. Plus it's the only one I had an idea for. Well, this was supposed to be for Gravitation but I couldn't seem to figure out how it would work. Then I got to thinking about how it would work with Bleach and I enjoyed it much more. Do not worry my people who look to me for Gravitation or Ouran! There will be another! Just whenever I get a plot for one xP So here you go!

Enjoy!

Ichigo sat outside the office of his guidance councilor. He watched as people came in and out of the office. People came out crying, people came out enraged, one guy even came out in handcuffs. He sort of wondered about the sanity of the people in the school. Then he remembered he was a fine one to talk. He kind of wondered why he was even there, they called him out of class and everything. Yet, he figured if it was an emergency he would be gone by now. This made him more anxious because he could not seem to figure out what he was there for. He looked at the pamphlets on the rack beside his chair. Everyone was all happy and smiling. He didn't blame them, he'd be happy to get out of the hell hole known as high school, too. People weren't exactly the friendliest. Sure he had some friends, but he barely called them friends. They were just people he hung around with. In highschool, that was everything. If he didn't hang around with anyone, he'd be a loner. If he did, he'd be judged by them. He didn't really care, although he kind of wished he could be left alone to eat in peace for one day. Every day they seemed to somehow find him. Nobody seemed to be very special to him. Sure they were nice people, but none of them really stood out to him. At least not yet.

His thoughts were interrupted when his councilor called him into his office. He stood and walked in, hands in his pockets. He stood there until the councilor told him to sit down, and then he followed the directions. "I got a call from your father," he began. This meeting wasn't starting very well, and he had a feeling it wasn't going to get any better. "He feels like you're still not over the death of your mother when you need to start moving on. While the death of a loved on is painful we've decided you aren't making any good progress."

"So? Why does it matter?" he replied simply, "It really is a personal problem." And he was right, it was a very personal problem. While everyone in his family had been hurt by it, Ichigo had never been the same since. He'd changed so drastically it wasn't a big stretch for his family to be worried about him.

"While that is true, the request was made by your father," the councilor pointed out.

"Yea well, Dad has a habit of over reacting," he shrugged and looked away from him. Couldn't he just leave now? He had a feeling there was still something the councilor had to tell him.

"Whether that may be true or not, we've decided we're going to switch one of your classes to art class. I know it sounds cheesy but it really is a good outlet if you have some bottled up emotions you don't feel comfortable expressing to anyone," the councilor explained. Ichigo didn't really want to express his emotions period.

"Do I get a choice?" he finally asked.

"No."

He sighed, "Fine then, can I go now?"

"Yes, we're finished here," the councilor replied and went to his computer. Ichigo stood up and left, he didn't know whether to be mad at the school or mad at his dad. Or to be mad at both, he wasn't too sure. Either way he knew there was no escaping the fate known as art class. He knew the guys who thought they were hard asses would be all over him for this one. It wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before, though, but those were times he wanted to erase from his memory.

Soon he was sitting in the classroom, observing his surroundings. It was unlike the other rooms and had a warehouse feel. This was understandable, since it was where they used to have auto shop. The teacher was also not like the other teachers. All the other teachers dressed very professionally, while he was very casual and didn't seem to care how he looked. Ichigo liked that about him. Ichigo had been the first one to arrive at the large classroom, but it soon began to fill up. He didn't realize how many people were actually in the class. He recognized many people from his other classes. He recognized one girl from his English class, and one guy from his Biology class, and hey, that guy kinda looked like..no, it couldn't be, could it? No, there was no denying it. There would only be one student who would come into a class and begin to cross stitch. "Oi, Uryuu," he called to him.

Uryuu sat up a bit, his composure indicating he was confused. Either that or he was hoping he hadn't heard him. He turned around, "What do you want, Kurosaki? Since when do you take this class?"

"Since now, does it matter?" he replied. He was the only person he knew in the class, so he decided maybe if he tried to be social he could get out of it.

"Sure it does, I never expected to see someone like you here," he replied, pushing up his glasses. Ichigo wondered why he didn't get a new pair if those kept falling off his nose.

"I could say the same, why are you here?" he asked.

Uryuu shrugged, "I supposed it's more socially acceptable for males to be in normal art than in home economics and whatnot."

"So, you shouldn't care what other people think," he replied, "Makes life a lot easier."

"Sorry that I can't be you," he turned back around. As class began Ichigo wondered what he meant by that. He was very confused because he hadn't said it in a cold way, it was almost like he was sad or longing. This was very unusual for Uryuu, since he typically didn't display emotions. That was something the both of them had in common, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Ichigo snapped out of his daze to hear the teacher talking about their summative assignment they'd be working on over the course of the class. They'd be painting a mural somewhere in the school. The only instruction was for it to be an expression involving colours, as in the message had to be conveyed through them. He said that class would be completely devoted to the assignment. Everyone was assigned wall space so they would be better able to plan what they wanted to do. Coincidentally or not, his and Uryuu's were beside each other. He cursed in his head when he discovered this, hoping he'd be able to work alone. Actually he didn't plan on working at all, that was the problem. Uryuu would make him work, he just knew. And his suspicion was not wrong. "What are you doing, Kurosaki?" he asked him when he noticed that he was sitting down, back to the wall.

"Sleeping, what does it look like?" he yawned and put his hands behind his head, slowly shutting his eyes. That is, until he was stabbed by a pencil. "Ow! What was that for?!" he looked over suddenly. It didn't really hurt, he was just more startled than anything.

"You need to work or you won't pass the course. Haven't you even thought of what you will do?" he scolded him. He was worse than his dad.

"Sure I did. I don't need to stare at a blank wall for an entire class. It's not like it's going to spontaneously get up and walk away anyways," he went to close his eyes again, only to be poked by the sharp pencil once more. Okay, that time it hurt a bit. This time he ignored him, only to get poked over and over and over at intervals of ten-seconds. "Would you stop that?!" he snapped, finally acknowledging the other.

"Only when you start working," he said simply, already starting to sketch things onto the wall.

"Why do you even care?" he finally asked the million dollar question.

"Am I not allowed?" he shot back, not looking over to him.

"No, you're not. We're supposed to be enemies, remember?" he replied, standing up. His leg was starting to fall asleep, "Although Orhime wants us to be 'frenemies'."

"'Frenemies'..? I'm not even going to ask.." he shook his head as he stared at his sketches.

"Either way you're not usually concerned with me."

"Well, if we're going to be spending a lot of time together for this course we may as well not ignore each other," he said simply.

"I guess....but don't expect me to be too happy about it," he stared at his wall space.

"You don't have to be, but it would be nice," he looked over to him finally.

"And yet again I ask why do you care so much?!" it was starting to frustrate him.

He shrugged, "Maybe I'm different than you think I am."

"Quit talking in riddles and just come out with it," he scowled. if you looked closely you could probably see steam coming out his ears.

"Look, all I'm saying is you need to look at yourself for the answer," he said.

"I don't get it.."

"I didn't expect you would. We're more similar than you think, Kurosaki. You just have to figure it out." Hadn't he just been thinking of that?

"Are you implying that there's a real and fake you?" he said after a long time thinking.

"We have a winner," he said, crossing his arms.

"I didn't expect that from you, to be honest. You always seemed to confident," he replied.

"That's the point. You weren't supposed to know."

"Why don't you be yourself, then?" he asked, crossing his arms as well and mirroring his movements.

"Why don't you?"

"How do you know that I'm not being me?" he replied, "Am I unbelievable?"

"I just have a feeling is all. No one is always angry," he went back to sketching on the well. Now Ichigo only had one question going through his mind. How could he, of all people, be the only one to see right through him? With that, he stared at the blank wall, his mind blank as well.

~END CHAPTER 1~