Chapter 143

Inside Ikumi’s car, Ichigo sat back in the passenger seat, one arm resting lazily against the door as he gazed out the window. The city blurred past in streaks of muted color, the low hum of the engine and the faint rattle of loose change in the cup holder filling the comfortable silence.

These moments were rare — no hollows to fight, no chaos to deal with. Just quiet.

‘God, I hope I didn’t just jinx that,’ he thought, sighing through his nose before glancing toward Ikumi.

“I’m hungry,” he said suddenly. “Wanna go get something to eat? I know a good food truck around here.”

“Sure,” she replied without looking away from the road. “As long as you’re paying.”

Ichigo side-eyed her. “Wow. You’re such a Mr. Krabs, you know that?”

Her head whipped toward him with mock outrage. “I am not a Mr. Krabs! For that, you’re definitely paying now.”

He gave her a look of exaggerated disappointment. “Here I was thinking you were supposed to be the caring, spoilful, beautiful woman who’d eventually buy me a console later on in our relationship… Guess I was wrong.”

Ikumi blinked. “…What are you even talking about?”

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “Just leave it.”

She gripped the wheel a little tighter, then let out a small sigh. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”


[A/N: Ichigo acting like the girl in a relationship rn]

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The food truck sat perched on a hill, the scent of grilled meat and spices drifting into the air. Behind it stretched a wide, breathtaking view of Karakura’s cityscape, the late afternoon light painting everything in gold.

They parked nearby and grabbed their food, leaning against the hood of her car as they ate.

Ikumi took a bite, chewed, then smirked at him. “I think I’ll come here again. Not with you, though. You’re more nagging than my cute son.”

Ichigo gave her a half-smile, leaning back with his hands braced on the hood. “Sure I am.”

The breeze carried the city’s distant hum up to them, and for a moment, neither said anything — the quiet competing with the occasional crunch of their food wrappers.

Ikumi glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and while she’d never admit it, she was starting to realize she didn’t actually mind his company as much as she pretended.

They finished eating in a comfortable lull, tossing their empty wrappers into a nearby bin. The view lingered behind them, but Ikumi was already jingling her keys.

“Alright, rookie,” she said, walking back to the car. “Let’s get you home before you start complaining about bedtime too.”

Ichigo smirked, sliding into the passenger seat. “I don’t complain about bedtime. I complain about you talking too much during the drive.”

She shot him a quick glare before starting the engine. “Careful, or I’ll make you walk.”

The ride back was quiet, the glow of the streetlights flickering through the windows as they cut through Karakura’s smaller streets. Soon enough, they were parked outside the shop.

“Tomorrow, you’re on early shift,” Ikumi said as he stepped out. “Got a job that’s perfect for showing off those climbing skills of yours.”

Ichigo raised a brow. “Climbing, huh?”

‘Can’t lie… I really miss fighting right now. Screw it — let’s just time skip.’


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[ 1 Week Later ]

Ichigo had fallen into a rhythm with the Unagiya shop — odd jobs every day, some with Ikumi, some on his own. Even after all that, she still insisted on calling him “rookie.”

It was Friday night, and they were wrapping up their last job of the week: packing up furniture and boxes for a family moving out of Karakura. The streetlights painted everything in a hazy orange, the night air thick with the scent of cardboard and dust.

“Alright, here’s your payment. Thank you, Ikumi… and your Ichigo,” the man said, handing her a thick, overstuffed envelope.

Ikumi grinned, tucking it into her jacket. “Just doing our job. Safe travels, alright?”

The man nodded, climbing into his moving van. His wife followed in their car, honking cheerfully as they drove off into the night.

The moment they were gone, Ikumi turned toward Ichigo, eyes sparkling. “We’re rich! Come on, let’s go buy some booze!”

She hurried to her car, tossing the envelope on the dashboard. Ichigo slid into the passenger seat, and in minutes they were pulling up to a 7/11.

Inside, Ikumi swept armfuls of beer and canned cocktails into a basket, while Ichigo grabbed a packet of beef jerky and paid for it himself.


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Back at the Unagiya Office

They sprawled out on the office couch — Ikumi with a cold beer in hand, Ichigo tearing into his jerky.

“Ahhh, that hits the spot. It’s been a while since I had a cold one,” she said, smiling contently before glancing at him. “Why aren’t you drinking?”

“Well… I’m sixteen, for starters. And it doesn’t really taste all that good,” he replied, glancing at the clock.

‘Damn. Nel’s gonna be pissed if I roll in this late,’ he thought with a sigh.

Ikumi pouted, leaning toward him. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper. Just have one drink. It won’t kill you.”

Ichigo gave her a flat look before popping open a can. He took a sip, grimaced, then chugged the rest in one go. “Tastes horrible. And I can’t even get drunk, apparently.”

Ikumi grinned, leaning back. “Oh-ho… guess we’ve got ourselves a drinking competition on our hands.”

And so it began. Can after can, Ichigo stayed perfectly composed while Ikumi’s face grew redder, her words slower. By her fifth can, she was completely gone — her posture loose, her smirk sloppy.

‘Alright, fun’s over,’ Ichigo thought, standing up to leave.

Before he could take a step, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, yanking him off balance. He stumbled — and his face landed squarely against her chest, the soft warmth muffling his breath.

Her drunken voice purred above him, “Y’know… if you weren’t so young, I’d have ridden you all night long already.”

Ichigo chuckled into her shirt, pulling back just enough to look at her. “I’d rather hear you say that sober.”

He scooped her up with ease, carrying her through the back door into her small apartment. She mumbled something incoherent against his shoulder before he laid her down on her bed.

Pulling the blanket over her, he stood in the doorway for a moment, shaking his head with a quiet laugh.

‘Man… Nel’s gonna be real pissed,’ he thought as he stepped out into the cool night air.


TO BE CONTINUED