Ble@ch

Ichigo's lips lingered on hers—warm, slow, unhurried. Not the reckless kiss of impulse, but the kind that came from something deeper. Longing. Certainty. The quiet, electric release of something both of them had felt but never voiced.

When he finally pulled back, their eyes locked—close, intimate, unguarded.

"Forget about Orihime for once," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Tonight… it's just you."

Tatsuki's breath caught in her throat. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, her pulse thudding like war drums in her ears. Whatever tension had been between them—years of glances, silences, unspoken what-ifs—it melted in that moment.

She didn't answer with words right away.

Instead, she kissed him again—deeper this time. Hungrier. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt as if anchoring herself to the moment. Their lips moved in sync, tongues clashing softly, breaths mingling between gasps and sighs. Each kiss grew more heated, more desperate, yet somehow still tender. Saliva mixed between them, the soft smack of their lips filling the quiet room.

Ichigo's hands slid down her sides, firm and certain, gripping her hips as he pulled her close. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted slightly and lifted her—Tatsuki instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders as she settled in his lap. Her weight felt natural there, her warmth pressing close to his chest.

He finally pulled back again, their foreheads touching, breath shallow.

"I've been meaning to do that for a long time," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers.

Tatsuki let out a nervous laugh, cheeks flushed. "You've got a hell of a way with timing."

Ichigo grinned. "Do you want this, Tatsuki?"

Her gaze didn't waver.

She looked into him—through him—and for once, didn't hide the longing in her eyes. Her voice was soft but sure.

"I do. I've wanted this… for a while."

Ichigo's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. He reached up, gently tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "Then let's stop pretending."

A glint of her old fire sparked in her eyes. "Fine. But just so you know—if you break my heart…"

She leaned in close, her lips brushing his.

"…I'll break your ribs."

He chuckled, resting his hands on her thighs. "Deal."

And then they were kissing again—hotter this time. Sloppier. A little less restrained. The passion came in waves, not rushed, but rising. Her fingers tangled in his hair, his hands gripping her waist with purpose. Tatsuki's body arched slightly into him, her breath hitching every time his lips found that spot just beneath her jaw.

Clothes still on, but desire smoldering just beneath the surface.

It was no longer a question of if—just how far they'd let this night take them.

The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the TV's soft glow in the corner. A quiet hum filled the space as Tatsuki lay with her head on Ichigo's chest, his arm lazily draped around her shoulders. Their breaths were calm, syncopated, and peaceful—as if the tension between them had finally eased.

Ichigo absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair, enjoying the silence. But a glance at the wall clock made him sigh.

"Damn," he muttered. "I gotta go back. If I'm gone too long, Yuzu and Karin will get worried."

Tatsuki slowly sat up, the warmth of his body leaving hers far too soon. She tugged her pajama top down slightly—it had ridden up a bit while they were curled together.

"I understand…" she said softly, looking away for a moment. "When will we meet again?"

Ichigo rose, stretching out his limbs before slipping on his hoodie. "I'll be gone for a while. Got some stuff to handle. But I promise—once I'm back, I'll come here first. No delays."

"You better," Tatsuki said, crossing her arms but smiling faintly. "And don't die, okay? I know you're off doing something dangerous."

Ichigo paused at the door, smirking over his shoulder. "So, you do know my secret, huh?"

She nodded. "I'm not stupid, Ichigo."

"I'll tell you everything someday," he said, before smirking. "Also… learn how to cook. Just in case I survive and come back hungry."

She picked up a pillow and chucked it at him, missing by inches as he shut the door behind him laughing.

Tatsuki leaned back on the couch, still smiling. Her fingers brushed her lips unconsciously.

"He really said learn how to cook... jerk," she muttered, then sighed. "And I forgot… I won't be the only one. Orihime's definitely involved. I'm okay with that… but the others he'll drag in?" She shook her head. "Guess I'll deal with them when the time comes."

---

Ichigo woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, his arms behind his head, bathed in the soft morning light.

That peace shattered instantly as the door exploded open.

"SPRING CLEANING TIME!!" Isshin bellowed, kicking the door with dramatic flair before vanishing down the hall cackling like a madman.

Ichigo groaned and rolled over, face buried in his pillow.

'It's not even spring…' he thought bitterly.

A familiar thump came from the wardrobe. Rukia stepped out, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "We're cleaning?" she asked groggily.

Ichigo stared at her in confusion " We? Who's we?"

He got up, dragging himself into the bathroom. After a quick shower and change, he opened the window, planning a clean getaway.

"There is no we," he muttered, slipping out of the window quietly.

But the moment his feet touched the ground, he was met by a pair of wide, innocent eyes.

"Good morning, Ichigo!" Yuzu chirped, holding out a broom with both hands.

His eye twitched. He turned his head slowly—Isshin was peeking from around the wall, barely containing his laughter.

'Set me up… that old bastard…' Ichigo groaned as he took the broom.

Yuzu skipped away happily, leaving him no choice but to follow her inside.

Once back in, Isshin had already assigned zones like a military general. Karin took the clinic, Rukia helped in the laundry room, and Ichigo was stuck scrubbing windows and the rooftop.

By midday, Ichigo collapsed on the porch, wiped out.

He stretched out under the warm sun, letting it soothe his aching muscles.

'That was exhausting... and I'm not even a normal human,' he thought.

He watched Rukia from the corner of his eye, helping Yuzu dry laundry. She was smiling, laughing even. 'At least she's having fun…'

He closed his eyes for just a moment.

Until the sun vanished.

Ichigo opened them to find two large breasts blocking the sky. His eyes trailed up to see Rangiku smiling down at him mischievously.

"Hey," she purred. "Show me around town? Rukia said you did that for her when she arrived."

Ichigo perked up internally.

'My ticket out of here.'

He shot to his feet with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Let's go!"

And then—conveniently—he tripped, stumbling right into Rangiku's chest. His face landed square in the center of her cleavage.

Rangiku laughed, her body jiggling with each giggle. "My, my, what a clumsy boy."

Ichigo didn't move for a second.

'Soft. So soft.'

That is… until he felt the icy chill of death.

He turned one eye and spotted Rukia glaring from the porch with a face of pure disapproval.

Ichigo stood upright instantly, clearing his throat. "Right. Uh. Let's go."

Rangiku followed behind, amused.

Rukia narrowed her eyes and muttered, looking down at her chest with a sigh.

"Are mine… not enough?"

TO BE CONTINUED

『 A/N: At $10, you get 10 chapters ahead across.』