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<- Too Cute
Ichigo stared at himself in the mirror, wondering idly if he was having some sort of dream. Except it wouldn't be a dream,
really, but a nightmare.
He was wearing pink. And it looked good on him.
Now normally, pink would clash horribly with his hair, but no. Not this time. Because -- according to Yumichika -- black made
everything much better. Now, before Ichigo got himself too confused, he decided to try and remember how all of this started.
He believed it began with a date.
With Urahara.
Or, rather, it began while Ichigo was trying to find something to wear for said date. And really, that had all
started with Yoruichi and Rukia, who had both - simultaneously and rather eerily - decided that their best friends needed
to go on a date. Together. But Ichigo, in a rather confusing turn of events that he still wasn't sure how it happened, refused
to go on a date with the geta-boshi unless he was dressed respectably. See? Ichigo was still confused on how they managed
to get him to agree to that.
So really, it started there. It was a very scary day indeed, and Ichigo believed it had even been raining.
"Ichigo?" Rukia asked, batting her eye-lashes at him. At the same time, Yoruichi was on the other side of the shoten tea room,
talking to Urahara about something. It looked like she was winning.
Ichigo scowled at Rukia, wondering what the hell she was up to. Because it couldn't have been nothing, since Rukia was always
up to something, and her being up to nothing at all was simply an impossibility. So, obviously, Ichigo came to the
conclusion that she was up to something. He really didn't want to know what, especially with the look that she was giving
him.
"What?" he demanded finally, when her lip started to tremble.
She beamed. "You look very lonely, Ichigo," she stated.
He frowned at her. Was she trying to come onto him? He hoped not, because he wasn't interested. "What gives you that idea?"
he demanded, already annoyed.
"You just do," she answered cryptically.
He should have known what she was up to right then, when she glanced over at Yoruichi and Urahara, who were now both watching
them, the geta-boshi looking almost speculative. However, he didn't know. Woe on him. Instead, he just snorted and went back
to his manga, ignoring her.
"Ichigo," she said, that pleading note back in her voice.
Ichigo looked up at her, only to see that sometime in the past half a second, Yoruichi had joined her, and they were both
staring down at him. He shuddered. "What?" What was this crazy bitch up to?
"I could make it so that you're not lonely anymore," Rukia offered, smiling sweetly down at him.
Ichigo started to have the niggling feeling of unease as they both stared at him. He refrained from shuddering and put down
his manga, deciding he'd see what Yusuke was going to say to his opponent later. "What do you want, Rukia? Just spit it out
already," he snapped, not amused in the least. He lifted his still-steaming tea cup.
She beamed, adopting that scary, saccharine sweet tone she used when she was pretending to be a nice girl. "Oh, Ichigo! Yoruichi-san
and I have decided that you're going on a date with Urahara-san!"
And it had all gone downhill from there.
Ichigo, who had been in the middle of taking a sip of the tea, promptly choked and started coughing in an attempt to get the
hot liquid out of his wind-pipes, his eyes tearing up with the effort. He put the cup down on the table and pounded his chest
to get his lungs working again. Then, he glared at Rukia. "What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch?" he demanded,
scowling mightily.
He could have sworn he heard Urahara snicker.
"Well," Rukia said, slowly, as if she were speaking to a slow child. "Poor Urahara-san hasn't had a date in a while-"
"That's because he's crazy!" Ichigo protested.
She went on as if he hadn't said a thing, going so far as to talk over him. "-and Yoruichi-san says he's oh-so lonely! And
we really just can't have that, especially when you're lonely too, and you don't even live that far away! You would make such
a wonderful couple!"
Ichigo could only stare at her incredulously, words officially lost to him. That's when Yoruichi spoke up.
"And you really need to get laid, anyway," she stated bluntly.
Ichigo's face must have been red, because he suddenly felt as if he had a fever, and his gaze turned to the creepy cat-lady.
"Are you nuts?" he demanded.
Yoruichi nodded. "But that's not the issue here, Ichigo. It's for your own good, you know," she insisted.
"You're both fuckin' crazy," he stated, gaping at them.
Yoruichi pondered, and Rukia looked crestfallen. Suddenly, Yoruichi cried out triumphantly and dragged Rukia away with her.
They returned a moment later with a small shoe-box. Yoruichi opened it and dug through it before pulling out a picture and
holding it out for him to take. He did.
Ichigo turned the picture over, and then to the left. But he couldn't figure it out. "Who the hell is that?" he demanded,
scowling up at the two.
"Kisuke," Yoruichi answered.
He looked down at the picture. Ah, now he saw it. Though, to be honest, he hadn't known that the geta-boshi could be
that hot. The man looked really fucking good in a tux. That was, if he was all cleaned up, without a beard and missing that
damn, ridiculous hat.
"So," Yoruichi said finally, her tone questioning. "Would you be satisfied if he was cleaned up?" she asked.
"Hey!" Urahara spoke up, offended. "I'm very handsome as I am!" he protested, touching his hat and waving that ridiculous
fan of his.
Ichigo looked up at the geta-boshi, and then back down at the picture, and then back up at the blond. And then at the picture
again. Well... He really couldn't believe he was considering this, but... If he went, and the geta-boshi was cleaned up, then
he'd not only get those two off his back, but he wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen in public with the man.
Ichigo sighed. "Fine."
Both Yoruichi and Rukia cheered.
And so, the two partners-in-crime had arranged for the date to be that Friday, and when that Friday actually came along, Ichigo
had nothing to wear. Except an old tux of his father's, which was obviously out of the question. Not only was it too big,
but it was his father's, for crying out loud. He'd have to be as crazy as Urahara to even consider it. And he wasn't
as crazy as Urahara.
But nonetheless, despite his musings, he still had nothing to wear, especially since Rukia and Yoruichi were planning on having
the geta-boshi cleaned up. He couldn't go looking like, well, like a kid, since Urahara was going to look so much better than
him if he did. That in itself would be rather embarrassing.
Suddenly, Ichigo's thoughts were interrupted when the door flew open, admitting Rukia, Ishida and Yumichika. He gaped at the
procession as the three carried various things into his room, setting them down on the floor, bed and desk. There was a sewing
machine - compact and portable - and a bag of cloth. There were several needle cases, of all different sizes, and thread in
numerous colors. Yumichika brought in an entire sink, to which Ichigo's eyes widened to the size of saucers. There were scissors,
hair dyes, and even some water - obviously for the sink and whatever the fluttery fifth seat planned to do with it.
"What the hell?" Ichigo demanded, a little breathless from it all.
The trio looked up from where they'd been arranging the items just so. Rukia grinned, having seated herself on the self in
the closet to watch, leaving the door open. "Well, I noticed this morning that the only thing you have presentable is Isshin's
old tux, and that's just out of the question. So, we're going to help you! I convinced Ishida to do the clothes, and Yumichika
to help with the appearance."
"What's wrong with my appearance?!" the strawberry boy demanded, a small tic beginning over his left eye.
"Well," Yumichika explained, smiling sweetly. "You're simply not beautiful enough!"
Ichigo gaped at him. "What if I don't wanna be 'beautiful'?!" he snapped at the other man.
Yumichika shrugged. "I have a job to do, and you will be beautiful, despite your concerns," he replied, something unnameable
twinkling in his eyes.
It was enough to make Ichigo pause. "What do you plan on doing?" he asked suspiciously.
And here he stood, staring at his reflection, idly tugging at a strand of black hair. Yes, they'd died his hair black. Apparently,
the pink yukata - borrowed and accommodated from Byakuya, according to Yumichika, though he doubted the hime would see it
again if Yumichika had his way - didn't really go with his natural hair color, so they'd fixed the problem.
Ichigo also noticed, quite to Rukia's amusement and his own annoyance, that the obi was decorated with tiny Quincy symbols,
typical of Ishida. Damn sew-happy bastard. The soft rubber geta they'd given him were fine, though they made him worry that
the geta-boshi still had his own wooden clogs. The thought made Ichigo shudder as an image of Urahara in a green yukata with
that damn hat and those geta came to mind. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.
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