A/N: For obscured_soul
. First Bleach fic, so please be gentle. X3;
It’s almost September. He and Ichigo are cutting class, up on the rooftop where they won’t be found. Ichigo is sprawled beside him, one arm thrown over his face. Dreaming, probably. The sky is perfect blue.
Ishida smiles, half-baffled, half-amused. Here they are, quincy and death god, wiling the day away by doing schoolboy things. Normal things. He really shouldn’t have given in to the sudden spell of laziness, but once in a while, it’s nice to pretend that he’s worrying about English homework, and not the fate of the world.
“Hey, Uryuu.” Ishida sighs mentally at the slip, blinking away the near-surprise that forms each and every time Ichigo calls his name. He doesn’t even bother to correct the idiot anymore – as if it would make a difference.
“Mm?” There’s silence for a bit, and Ishida cranes his neck to see if said idiot has fallen asleep again. He hasn’t, lying on his back and staring at nothing. There are no clouds, today.
“Do you ever think – I mean, you know, have you ever wondered…” For a moment, Ishida imagines that he’s lost his nerve. Typically, Ichigo opens his mouth and ploughs right on. “I just reckon that, by the time this is all over… I’ll – I’ll probably be dead.”
Ishida can see it in his mind’s eye, a massive bubble of orange-haired energy wreaking havoc in the upper echelons of soul society, where it actually matters. Arguing with Kuchiki-san, both Kuchikis actually, and – oh.
“You mean… for real?”
“Yeah.” He isn’t sure whether his hand finds Ichigo’s, or Ichigo’s finds his. It doesn’t matter. In a few hours, this will be forgotten. They’ll be rivals again, Kurosaki and Ishida, the shinigami and the shinigami-hater.
“It wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs. “You might see your mother.”
The world blurs unexpectedly, as if someone’s stolen his glasses. But his cheeks are damp and it isn’t raining. The weather’s wonderful.
Ichigo rolls over and kisses him. One kiss to last till next time.