Old Friends, New Stories (Bonus In-Between Years Poll Chapter)

Ichigo sat alone at the polished bar, a half-full glass of umeshu resting between his fingers. The amber liquid caught the low light, flickering through ice like candle-fire. He brought it to his lips and took a slow sip, letting the sweet-and-sour kick spread across his tongue. He liked this brand: mellow plum at first, then a gentle sting of tartness curling into the corners of his mouth. It was honest. No need to chase it down with water or bury it in mixers.

Soft jazz played from a live band tucked in the corner. The guitar was slow, smooth - a lazy drawl of notes sliding clean and low beneath the dusky glow of the room. The pianist was working a familiar pentatonic blues in the background, weaving in tasteful notes that made Ichigo tap his finger against the glass in appreciation.

He exhaled, shoulders slack in his black leather jacket, dark jeans riding comfortably against the barstool. In a rare moment, there was no screaming, no explosions, no eldritch horrors clawing through reality. Just jazz and the taste of plums.

His thoughts drifted to Tiamat.

She’d been holed up under the covers, snoozing away and dreaming of ancient legends and modern delicacies. Maybe he should pick up something good for dinner? That yakitori place that she liked? Or maybe grilled unagi with rice? No, dumplings. The handmade ones with the spicy dipping sauce.

Ichigo chuckled to himself and took another sip.

Yeah. Dumplings. She’d like that.

Suddenly, a petite figure slid onto the barstool next to him, dressed in a white overcoat and a stylish black turtleneck dress underneath. She looked like the epitome of style and grace.

“Interesting place you’ve chosen. It’s quite…adult.”

He let out an amused hum, even as his eyes quickly looked her over. She looked exactly the same, unchanged from his memories from years past. Well, save for one minor detail.

“You’ve grown your hair out. It looks good,” he remarked, nodding towards the long ponytail that hung over her shoulder.

She looked pleased at his words, but quickly her lips turned down in a frown as she said with a touch of dryness, “And you’ve grown even taller… annoyingly so.”

He let out a low chuckle. Yes, he had always been taller than her. Well, in fairness, most everyone was taller than her. But now, in his 20s, after all his growing was done, he utterly towered over her.

He met her dark eyes, and they stared at each other for a long and heavy minute. But then they both broke into full smiles, and Ichigo felt an old and familiar warmth spread through his chest.

“It’s good seeing you again, Rukia.”

“It’s good seeing you as well, fool.”

And Ichigo let out a low chuckle at the nostalgic, faux bite in her tone.

“How have you been?” she asked with sincere kindness in her voice.

“I’m doing good,” he said honestly. “Better than good. But imagine my surprise when an old friend calls me out of the blue after five years saying she wanted to meet up.”

Rukia’s smile turned a touch sad. “I wanted to speak to you earlier. Years earlier… sometimes I would slip away and check up on you were still in school in Karakura Town.”

Ichigo looked surprised at the admission, but he was touched. It caused his heart to swell to know Rukia actually visited him when he was still human.

“But it became harder and harder as time went by,” she said, looking down at the bar. “A seatless Shinigami can easily slip under the radar, but as I quickly climbed the ranks, it became impossible to make trips into the human world without being monitored.”

Yeah, that made sense to him. Shinigami were heavily discouraged from making contact with humans, and Ichigo was fully human back then.

“Belated congrats on the promotions then,” he said, raising a glass towards her. “What seat are you now?”

Rukia sent him the smuggest look imaginable. “Hoh-hoh, I am now the lieutenant of Squad 13!”

Ichigo’s brows climbed high. Rukia certainly had the combat experience. But strangely, he couldn't sense the power of a lieutenant from her. Actually, he could barely sense any spiritual energy from her at all. Odd…

“I imagine it’d be even harder for a lieutenant to sneak out than a seated officer. How did you manage this little rendezvous, then?” he asked, fishing for information.

She scratched her jaw with a finger, looking somewhat mollified. “I ordered a custom, untraceable, Gigai from Urahara and had Yoruichi-dono show me a hidden back entrance to the human world.”

Ah, that would explain it.

“Clever,” he said, nodding towards her.

Rukia gave him another smug look, as if to say, ‘Of course! Who do you think I am?’ She then turned towards the bartender and gave a small wave for his attention. “Excuse me, could I order a glass of sake, please?”

The man behind the counter gave her a look of pure skepticism. “…I’m sorry miss, but can you show me your ID please?”

Ichigo hid a snort of laughter behind his hand even as Rukia looked dumbfounded.

“Eh?”

Rukia hadn’t aged a day since he last saw her five years ago. Which meant, she definitely did not look old enough to drink legally. There was a good reason no one questioned her enrollment into Karakura High despite the fact she was centuries old. Rukia could easily pass off as a teenager. Her petite and diminutive build only further exacerbated her youthful face.

“I-I don’t have an ID,” she mumbled with some shock.

And why would she? What good was a human ID for a psychopomp from a parallel dimension?

“I’m sorry miss,” said the bartender not sounding sorry at all, “but I can’t serve you any alcohol without checking your ID.”

“But-but…”

“Would you like a glass of milk instead?”

“M-milk!” Rukia cried with no small amount of indignation in her voice, causing Ichigo to burst out laughing. She turned towards him, looking entirely offended at his laughter. “It’s not funny, idiot! I am an adult, I’m older than you! I will not be served a glass of milk like some babe!”

Her tirade only caused him to laugh even louder. But when the other patrons in the bar turned towards them and the ruckus they were making, Ichigo finally managed to reign in his mirth and waved an apology towards the band for the disturbance.

“Sorry,” he said, still chortling to himself. “But it really is fucking funny.”

Rukia’s ears were red with embarrassment and anger, and to placate her, Ichigo smiled at the bartender and sent a mental probe into his mind. “She’s old enough for a drink, trust me.”

The bartender’s eyes briefly glazed over before clearing up again, and he gave a careless shrug before he started to pour Rukia a glass.

Still looking sour, Rukia begrudgingly passed human money across the bar towards the bartender.

“So,” Ichigo said. “Why did you look me up after all this time? Even going out of your way to procure an untraceable Gigai from our annoying ‘eccentric’ shop-owner; seems a bit much to see little old me.”

Rukia’s expression quickly became neutral, and she gave him a searching glance. He met her gaze, keeping the small smile still playing on his lips, but he schooled his expression, nonetheless, not giving anything away.

“I heard you got married,” she said softly.

He looked at her quietly for another few seconds, before reaching into his jacket and withdrawing his phone. “I did.” He passed the phone to her, showing a picture of Yasaka in human disguise.

Rukia picked it up, and slowly, her lips bloomed into a full smile. “She’s beautiful.”

Ichigo felt warmth bloom in his chest. He thought the same. His wife was drop-dead gorgeous, and he was a very, very lucky Devil to have her in his life.

“What’s her name?”

“Yasaka. Kurosaki Yasaka,” he said with an unmatched tenderness.

She regarded him with a kind smile. “Congratulations on your marriage. I sincerely hope you two have a long and happy life together.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

But then, Rukia’s countenance turned sly and teasing. “Though I suppose it makes a certain sense, given you peeked through your fingers at Rangiku-san. I suppose you have a type, blonde, luscious and…well-endowed.”

He frowned.

“Peeking on-what are you talking about?” But then he recalled a distant memory of a host of Shinigami stationed in Karakura as a preemptive measure against Aizen and his Arrancar. And a certain lieutenant trying to tempt him into allowing her to board with him when he protested their stay in his bedroom. Ichigo rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I cannot believe you are still holding that against me.”

She gave a low laugh and took a delicate sip of her drink.

They sat in content silence, taking sips of their choice in alcohol. The band switched songs and started playing a smoother and slower tune. A classic touch of blues, filled with longing and old nostalgia.

Rukia sat straight, her eyes on the glass she gripped with both hands.

“Ichigo.”

“Hmm?” He swirled the half-melted ice in his glass.

“You disappeared.”

His hands froze, and he gave her a questioning glance, but she did not look up at him.

“You disappeared, Ichigo,” she repeated.

“What do you mean? I’m sitting right here,” he said quietly, knowing full well that wasn’t what she meant.

And she finally looked at him, her eyes heavy and voice grave. “Don’t give me that. You were gone. Soul Society was monitoring you, how could we not? You saved us all and we made sure you were kept safe and away from any potential dangers, but then you disappeared.”  

Ichigo quietly set his glass down as Rukia turned towards him, facing him with her full body.

“No one could find you. Not Squad 2’s most experienced trackers, not any of Squad 12’s sensory technologies, not a single scrying technique of the Kidō Corps. Not even your family knew where you went. We asked. You. Were. Gone. And then the Soul King, the Soul King, sent down a decree forbidding Soul Society from searching for you or seeking you out. I am sitting here, committing high treason, talking to you right now. And I am telling you; you disappeared.”

Ichigo rolled his jaw, a lone finger slowly dragging along the rim of his glass.

Huh. In hindsight, he never really considered how abrupt him leaping into Sirzechs’ offer was. Then again, story of his life, yeah?

‘Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate.’

The words he had lived by since he was fifteen. The moment he accepted that Pawn Piece years ago, he was all in, no stop. He kept running forward into the unknown. Into the endless mire of the Supernatural. Excited, thrilled, and sometimes unwitting, but he never hesitated.

He never looked back.

Maybe…maybe he should have?

He looked at Rukia, looked at her hard, and wholly took in the conviction and naked concern in her eyes. She was the first Shinigami he ever met. The first friend he made outside of humanity. The person who truly pulled him into the Supernatural world in a moment marked with blood and violence.

His grip on his glass tightened.

“You’re part of the Kuchiki clan, yeah?” he asked in a quiet voice.

 Rukia’s face slowly morphed confused, wary. “Byakuya-nii-sama adopted me into the clan, yes.”

He sent a glance up at the ceiling, knowing the sun was just past the zenith and shining strong in the sky. His thoughts churned chaotically. It was a gamble, a huge gamble that could potentially land him in so much trouble but…

Ah, fuck it.

“How much do you know about the Five Noble Clans and their origins?”

Rukia’s expression immediately became guarded and suspicious. “…how much do you know about their origins?” she shot back.

Ichigo let out a chuckle as he downed the remainder of his drink in one gulp and then motioned the bartender for a refill.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” he said with a sigh. “You see, it all started when I met this red-haired man…”