For once Fyre has left you to wander in Fangirl Land all by yourselves. Or maybe not. She sometimes lies. XD Zero is the background story.
0
“This is gonna be thirteen different kinds of fun,” you think to yourself as you flop onto your couch for another unbearably long, unbearably boring Saturday. As if the world is conspiring to bore you to death, there isn’t even a corny slasher movie on the science fiction network, which hasn’t happened in ages-- usually the ‘science’ part is missing and it’s just flying-body-part gore and odd-colored fake blood, but today’s nothing but reality shows like ‘Searching for the Yeti.’
You go to your computer, thinking to do some internet surfing, when your doorbell rings. Automatically you look out the front curtains and spot a familiar mess of bright orange hair. “Kurosaki? What the heck does he want?”
Opening the door, you barely have time to say hello as Ichigo Kurosaki sighs heavily and holds out a hand. “Hey, uh, _______, we’re having a party at my house, and we need some girls.”
If you didn’t know where this was going, you think, you were braindead. “What about the Kuchiki girl and Orihime? Or Tatsuki?”
“Are you kidding? Tatsuki’d kill us! Orihime’s in Okinawa visiting some great-aunt or other, and Rukia…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Rukia went back to Soul Society for the weekend.”
You had known about Soul Society for some time, mainly because it was impossible for you not to—you came from a family of shamans, and were naturally spirit-aware, and on top of that your grandmother had taken up being a Soul Reaper in the Great Beyond.
Lost in thoughts of your unfortunately hyper-supernatural family, you follow Ichigo without thinking. “So why did you think of me, exactly?”
“Because. We needed to find a girl who wouldn’t freak out, and with your parents…”
“Quiet, Kurosaki, before I slap you so hard your face’ll be on the wrong side of your head!” You swat at him and he ducks. “Damn Soul Reaper reflexes,” you grumble to yourself.
Ichigo grins and suddenly you realize you’re in front of the Kurosaki family clinic. “I thought we were going to your house?” You ask, visibly confused.
“Nah, my dad’s home, and I don’t wanna traumatize Yuzu and Karin.”
“So we’re traumatizing me instead?”
“You catch on quick.”
You shove him out of the way and walk inside. The lobby’s dark, but in the waiting area the lamps are all on and the shades are pulled. You hear Ichigo shutting the door behind you and you walk further in.
“Hey, _______, you’re looking pretty sweet tonight,” Keigo Asano says, giving you a grin.
“Hey, doofus.”
“Ouch. That stung.” Keigo retorted, flopping back on one of the couches with a snort. Suddenly he sat up. “You’re ranked number twenty three in school! There’s no way we’re playing with a traitor!”
As you pass, you smack him on the top of the head. He just grins at you. Keigo’s an idiot, but at least he’s nice. Mizuiro Kojima is across the room, sipping water from a paper cup. He’s pulling the eyes on you—he likes older women, particularly ones who were fooled by his cute face. You, however, are not, and you stick your tongue out at him as you pass.
Kisuke Urahara is on the floor, playing some sort of dice game in which he is deeply interested—or pretends to be, until you walk by, at which point he attempts a quick peek under your skirt. Stomping his hand proves satisfying.
Chad had been quiet this whole time, looking at you in surprise from under his thick, wavy hair. He doesn’t speak to you, but he nods, and you nod back, even giving him a smile. Chad’s a nice guy, and you’re going to kill Ichigo for getting you in the habit of calling him Chad instead of his real name.
Uryu Ishida tips his glasses down and gives you a nod, not unlike Chad’s, but his is more an acknowledgement of your sealing powers (once again, courtesy of your stupid, magic family).
Six total, you think to yourself, as you select a chair—only to be diverted by Ichigo. “Hey, hang on a second, _______. Here,” he says, handing you a vase.
“What’s this for?” You ask, holding it upside down and examining it.
“Spin it. Whoever it points to goes in the closet with you.” Kojima says, smiling at you.
“So we’re playing Spin the Bottle?”
“Well, yes and no… You get ten minutes in the closet with whoever the vase points to when it stops spinning.”
“Then it’s 10 Minutes in Heaven.” With a sigh, you fold your legs under yourself and give the vase a twirl.
The vase spins twice, whacks off your shin, and smashes into a million pieces against the wall. “Ohh-kaaay… Er… Pick a number?”
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