Title: Drizzle
Author: Lys
Characters/Pairing: Ichigo Kurosaki/Asano Keigo
Rating/Warnings: Vague BL, more along the lines of pre-slash. PG-13 for language.
bleach_15 Theme: #3 The Rain
Status: One-shot, 2028 words





It was spring. At least, it was in Karakura Town, as evidenced by the weather. Ichigo clicked his tongue in irritation as a particularly heavy drop of rain, still cold in the early season, fell from a low branch. It landed on the top of his head, easily pushing its way through his thick hair to get to his skull. The feeling turned his stomach. Ichigo reached to wrap his fingers around upper arms that weren’t as skinny as they were, the last time he remembered spring in Karakura Town. Almost dying in a different plane of existence could do that to you, though. Make you buff and manly and shit. He tried not to think about the topic of Soul Society for the moment, because all that ever brought about was an hour of lying in bed with a face like a cat’s butt. He reminded himself to move his hands and rub, even if his briefcase made it a little difficult. There was water leaking in through a hole in the stitching of his shoes, and soon his sock would be soaked, and his feet would small like corn by the time he got home to the clinic and Karin would kindly tell him so.

He should invest in a bike. That would at least solve his initial problem, being ‘walking home in the rain.’ A bike wouldn’t get rid of all this stupid dramatic bullshit, or make Ichigo not crazy, but at least it would keep him out of the rain. Maybe he could get a black one.

“Umbrella,” said a piping voice to his left side, with which Ichigo mentally agreed. Yes, an umbrella would work, too. It would be much cheaper than a bike. But not a black one—black umbrellas are for funerals.

“Ichigo~,” it piped again. “You should share my umbrella with me!”

Finally coming back down to earth, Ichigo glanced in the general direction of the voice, which resolved itself into Asano Keigo. He stopped his slow shuffle and turned to the brown-haired boy. Of course, he couldn’t think of any other people, aside from perhaps Chad or Inoue, who would be calling him over to share an umbrella; but the behavior from Keigo was still unusual. Keigo lived in the other direction from the school, preventing the whole ‘walking home together after 8 hours of torture’ business. “Ah- Keigo. What—“

Keigo shuffled his rather large, rather colorful umbrella from one hand to the other, making it easier for him to wave Ichigo over. Ichigo silently complied, his confusion evident on his face, somewhere behind the perpetual irritation. “Did you want something?” Ichigo mumbled by way of greeting. Keigo quickly moved to position the umbrella appropriately, finally shielding Ichigo from the (gross, depressing) rain. The drops tap-tap-taped on the vinyl pleasantly, a substitute for Ichigo’s bright head, and Keigo focused an unusually perceptive pair of eyes on Ichigo’s nearby shoulder.

“Have you gotten bigger since the last time I’ve seen you? Your shoulder is, like, huge.” Keigo illustrated his point by shuffling closer to Ichigo and pressing a hot palm against the wet cotton covering his shoulder.

Ichigo shuffled one step backward, in turn, and raised a thin eyebrow. “Change of subject, much?”

“I’m serious.” It was Keigo’s turn to be irritated, and Ichigo could hear it plainly under his friend’s shill theatrics. “Fine! I can just take my umbrella away, you know. My umbrella still loves me!”

It was a bit too quiet for a moment afterwards. The umbrella went tap-tap-top, and Ichigo fely awkward standing in the rain, on the verge of an obvious argument with Keigo. He glanced around quickly, checking to see if they were still alone. He didn’t need this. He had an image.

Both of them did, come to think of it.

“Anyway…” Ichigo’s voice was apologetic as he attempted to shake some of the water that was pooling in obscene amounts in his shoes out, by sheer force. It worked in other situations. “What I meant is, why are you here?” Catching the start of a comeback in Keigo’s change of expression, Ichigo plowed forward. “You live in the other direction, it is raining and fucking gross, and it’s a weekday.” The humidity in the air was making both boys damp, and Ichigo felt like his clothes were bunching uncomfortably. Everywhere. Keigo tucked a lock of limp, brown hair behind his ear.

“I wanted to talk to you. Is all.”

“”Oh.” The noise fell from Ichigo’s mouth suddenly and heavily, like a hard candy. Like somebody had slapped him on the back because he was choking. He might start trying to fake it, to get out of this situation. His bed was warm, at home. Yuzu and Kon would start worrying about him. The look on Keigo’s face was, well… Ichigo might describe it as ominous, at a later date, when he had a bit more presence of mind. He knew what was coming as Keigo leaned in to get into Ichigo’s face, dripping ‘don’t ignore me’ body language like the clouds were dripping rain.

“Where were you, all freakin’ vacation? I didn’t see you once, and you even came to class late. I’m tired of ignoring the pink elephant in the room, Ichigo. And everyone else, too. Everyone from the roof, except Mizuiro, and he was in Hawai’i. Chad told me you all went on vacation to some Spanish island.” Keigo shook his head, replaced the lock of hair that fell from behind his ear, and continued making his point. “Chad doesn’t lie well. His mouth droops.”

In retrospect, perhaps Ichigo should have persevered through the rain. It would have meant avoiding the trainwreck that was surely ahead. It was times such as this, that Ichigo was confronted with the fact that Asano Keigo was not, in fact, a complete idiot. He may have been half an idiot, sure, but he knew people. He had, what do you call it— some kind of empathy or something. The sort of shit that was beyond a guy like Ichigo.

“Maybe he did, but I didn’t tell him to say it, if that’s what you think.”

“No.” There was a small degree of honest hurt in Keigo’s response, of the sort that wasn’t there in his typical classroom histrionics. “That’s not what I think. I don’t care what you did. I don’t care if you guys knocked over a hundred yen shop and had to disappear to hide the evidence. I don’t care if you left so that Ishida could become the Queen of England. I just know you left, with Chad and Inoue. And with Ishida.”

Ichigo’s confusion deepened. He couldn’t quite see what Keigo was getting at, but then again, he rarely had any idea what Keigo was getting at. “If you don’t care,” he finally replied, voice measured. “Then why are you totally chewing me out right now? ‘Cause you are. So you know.”

“You spent an entire vacation— plus. An entire vacation with Ishida Smartyface McNerdglasses Uryuu. Yet you never called me once. You didn’t even text me. I texted you like seventy times. What else am I supposed to think in that situation, except that you just don’t want to hang out anymore? Am I too stupid for you now, because if I piss you off, you know, you can just tell me instead of making me look pathetic.” Keigo’s bottom lip trembled and he exhaled a cloud into the cool air. Ichigo tried to think of workable excuses to look away, because the blatant irritation on Keigo’s face pinched his features. It reminded Ichigo a little too much of himself for comfort, which was impressive, because Ichigo regularly had to look into his own face as a matter of occupation.

“I had. Shit to do. With Ishida,” Ichigo finally replied. Maybe if he enunciated enough, Keigo would drop it. It worked on his little sisters.

“We used to be friends. It used to be just me, you, Mizuiro and Tatsuki.” Keigo scratched his neck with his index finger. Ichigo tried and failed not to roll his eyes. He snorted.

“It’s not funny, ass.” Keigo hesitated, before he reached out to give Ichigo’s chest a good shove. Ichigo remained still, which made the brown-haired boy frown at him speculatively.

“What are you, my girlfriend?”

“I don’t know why I even bothered. I should have just gone home.” Keigo shoved the umbrella into Ichigo’s thin hands and turned to stalk around his friend quickly. He was stopped when Ichigo reached out and lassoed him around the wrist. Keigo started.

“Your umbrella.” Ichigo shook the green thing at Keigo. The rain was starting to get stronger now, and the water was already gathering in Keigo’s fine hair and rolling down his forehead in a stream. Keigo pulled a little in Ichigo’s grip, a sharp wristbone jutting uncomfortably between the bones of his palm. “You’re gonna need it.”

“I’ll be fine. It doesn’t bother me.” He shot Ichigo a look that plainly said, I’m already bothered anyway.

“Don’t be a stubborn dick,” Ichigo bit out. This was becoming awkward in ways that were starting to piss him off.

“That’s right. You’ve only got room for one stubborn dick in your life, and Ishida has already filled the opening.” Keigo tugged harder in Ichigo’s grip, unfortunately at the exact same time that Ichigo loosened it. The flat soles of his black shoes slipped on the slick ground, covered in buds that were too early for the season, fallen from the branches in the sudden cold weather. Keigo was about to go for a tumble. Ichigo dropped the umbrella quickly, reflexes still piqued due to his time fighting in Seireitei. He wrapped a firm forearm around Keigo’s thin waist, dragging him quickly away from an inevitable spill onto the sidewalk and against his chest.

Mutual silence dropped on the pair again, as did the persistant raindrops. Keigo’s heart thudded uncomfortably against Ichigo’s ribcage, and the redhead could feel the tips of his ears burning. Finally, he spoke.

“You’re jealous of Ishida.”

An answering blush started to rise across Keigo’s nosebridge and collarbone, and he squirmed nervously for a second, like a guilty child getting caught feeding his vegetables to the dog. “No.”

“Ishida is my –friend-.” Ichigo emphasized the word ‘friend’, shaking the smaller boy’s form. “He is my friend, and he is a giant twat.” Ichigo’s nose twitched, the rain trailing down it threatening to make him sneeze. He pressed Keigo’s face into his shoulder, in an act that he generally considered comforting, if perhaps a little rough. “So chill.”

Keigo rubbed his wet face against the shoulder and sighed, before replying. “Ichigo?”

“Huh?” Ichigo finally moved away, releasing Keigo and moving for the umbrella. He’d had enough of this heart-to-heart in the rain shit. You could have a heart-to-heart under an umbrella just as well, even if it was an ugly one.

“I uh,” Keigo shifted nervously. “I like guys. I’m, uhm…”

“Okay,” said Ichigo, holding the umbrella over both of their heads, turning the cold wetness into comforting white noise again. Keigo tried to hide a wince.

“You’re not going to hit me?”

Ichigo forced a wide smile onto his face, mostly achieving a look he was sure was close to constipation. “I’m a big boy. I can deal.” He shook Keigo by the shoulder in what he hoped was a friendly manner, and Keigo favored him with an unsure look. Ichigo really couldn’t blame him. The world was full of many and varied forms of douchebaggery, and surely, had he been a year younger and a few months more naïve of the depths of human (and non-human) stupidity, he might have been a bit upset by the sudden revelation that his best bud was Into Him. As it was, Ishida Uryuu was the last member of a dead race and Abarai Renji was basically stalking him around the living world. Besides which, Ichigo wasn’t hypocrite enough to be upset with Keigo when he wasn’t quite sure what he Was, either (although Ichigo was mostly sure it wasn’t strictly gay, but on the other hand…). At any rate…

Yeah, he could deal.

“Yuzu’s making a hot pot tonight. She’s a braver man than I.”

Keigo opened his mouth wide to protest.

“And it’s fucking nasty out today, so you’re coming to have some with us.”



Fic done for bleach15. Not too long, not too graphic. Which is actually weird for me, but I am on spring break and feel like just...accomplishing something. Anything.