Disclaimer: Bleach obviously not mine. Credits to my cousin Ninya.

Chapter One : ''A million is something you just can't turn away.''

Rukia threw out the spoiled milk that morning. She made her own trail mix from crumbs at the bottom of the soda cracker box, some unsweetened chocolate chips from her dwindling baking supplies, and a handful of expired mixed nuts. After chasing down a half-bowl of it with a cup of black coffee, She got dressed and started her walk to the bus stop for her five a.m. shift at Urahara's.

The diner was a historical icon that both old and new players of the money-trade industry respected and patronized. It's kitchen served hot and greasy breakfast from six-thirty to eleven in the morning and lunch from eleven to three. Once the markets closed, Urahara's separate lounge came to life - a perfect chaos of televised sports events, alcohol and hot wings.

Isane poked her head into the lunch room earlier where Rukia was taking a short break and reading a local tabloid, and told her that Mr. Kurosaki was asking for her specifically. That confused her because everyone knew Isshin and referred to him by his first name. He also never came on Saturday mornings. Rukia tossed the core of the apple she'd been munching on, washed her hands, and headed out to the dining area. Scanning the room, she found Isshin's usual spot, which was in a corner booth by the window, empty.

Isane must've made a mistake but she couldn't possibly miss the old man.

"Rukia, over there," Isane called out to her from the prep bar where she was sorting her orders. She cocked her head to the side in the direction of the back most corner booth on the complete opposite side of the diner from where Isshin's usual spot would be. Rukia's brows furrowed further at Isane's wide eyes and nervous shrug.

- Jeez. This couldn't be any odder. -

Isshin was such a flirty, adorable, old man and all the girls here loved him. Rukia haven't seen Isshin in about a week actually but that wasn't always surprising. He was a pretty busy and important man and they always figured that he was away on business trips when he wouldn't show up for several days.

"Hey, Issh - "

Rukia stopped cold, her eyes narrowing at the man sitting in the booth, impatiently tapping his fingers on the laminate countertop. "You are not Mr. Kurosaki," Rukia blurted out, accusation in her voice.

The man's thick, brow rose at her statement and she got the full effect of his arrogance before his mouth even opened. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

Crossing her arms, Rukia pursed her lips and studied him. He had thick, light orange hair - weird- that curled softly around his ears and the nape of his neck, a prominent, perfectly straight and narrow nose, a strong jaw, and a pair of dark hazel eyes that were currently flickering with disdain as he returned her inspection. He was definitely an attractive man—the coloring of his hair and eyes were seductive while the condescending tilt of his full, wide mouth was a little maddening.

"Isane said Mr. Kurosaki specifically asked for me," Rukia explained impatiently. "I'm looking at you and you're definitely not him."

A frown started between his brows and never left. "I am definitely Mr. Kurosaki— Ichigo Kurosaki, to be precise."

Based on the tailoring and materials of his dark blue sports jacket and white shirt, he was definitely rich and showed it well—nothing less than she expected of him. But there was nothing about him at all that reminded her of Isshin who had, happy eyes and a goofy smile.

Rukia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Ah, yes. The younger, more ambitious, less charming Mr. kurosaki. Nice to meet you."

Oh yes, she knew of Ichigo Kurosaki, alright. He was splattered all over the media since he was the heir apparent to Kurosaki Industries and its current president. He was ruthless in business, well in demand at social functions, and easy on the eye to top it all off. Since she was friends with Isshin, she'd heard enough about him—both good and bad—but he just always seemed like a character in a manga that she'd read over and over again and who always stayed confined to the pages.

He looked at the hand she extended, as if it were a snake about to spring forward and coil around his neck, before he briefly shook it. "Sarcasm isn't the most polite of greetings, Ms Kuchiki," he answered in a tone brittle with annoyance as he quickly released her hand. "You aren't so charming yourself."

"And you just made a hypocrite of yourself with that sarcastic comment. Now we're even."

Anger flared in his gold-flecked, brown eyes. "Not even close. Why don't you take a seat and we'll discuss business."

Rukia shook her head. "I don't believe we have any business together, Mr. Kurosaki. And I have work to do. Isane will come by and take your order when you're ready. Good day—"

She had just turned when his arm shot out and grabbed her elbow in an iron grip. She glanced at it and narrowed her eyes at him. "I would let go if I were you. No one would blink an eye here if I break your nose for touching me."

His gaze darkened, his grip not loosening one bit. "I wouldn't threaten men who are twice your size if I were you, Ms. Kuchiki. After all, even a well-oiled bike breaks down after so many men have ridden it."

Red flashed in her vision and before Rukia knew it, she threw a punch. Her fist grazed his jaw before punching into air and before she could react, he was on his feet, grabbing her by the shoulders, propelling her into the booth, and settling himself in front of her so she was trapped between him and the table. He was much larger and stronger than Rukia thought, and he looked downright furious.

"Let go of me, you ass!" Rukia yelled at him as she struggled to push him off the seat, but he was pure muscle under the shirt and jacket that he didn't budge an inch. "You're an arrogant, offensive cockhead and I'm not wasting my time on you."

"Stop swearing!" he hissed at her, aware that heads popped up at Rukia's raised voice. "I don't want to talk with you any more than you want to talk with me, but we're in a mess that you created and I want you to fix it."

That got her attention.

Rukia stopped struggling and stared at him as if he sprouted a horn—make that two horns since he was probably the devil. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He rolled his eyes, releasing her. "You very well know what I'm talking about, Ms. Kuchiki. Didn't you plan all of this out? Play my father right into your hands so he would do anything you asked, including blackmailing his own son so you can get what you want?"

She frowned. "I'll give you exactly ten seconds to explain yourself before I scream murder. My friends down at the precinct aren't very fond of pervs and bullies like you."

Watching his jaw clench, a muscle ticking under his left eye, Rukia realized just how angry Ichigo Kurosaki was. There was no humor for him in all of this, and he was barely restraining himself from reaching over and wringing her neck. As to why he was mad at her, she didn't know.

- Be the adult Kuchiki. attempt a civil conversation even if the man is a total ape. -

"Let's try this again," Rukia said in a calmer tone. "What are you here for? Tell me as if I'm hearing this for the first time because I bet I am. Please and thanks." She was proud of her perfectly pleasant statement but it seemed to infuriate him further because he dragged in a deep, loud breath as if fighting for control.

"I'm here to propose marriage, Ms. Kuchiki," he said in a grave voice as if he just announced a death sentence—for whom, that she wasn't sure about.

Rukia blinked a few times before she grinned and lost it, throwing her head back laughing.

"What exactly is so hilarious about the situation, Ms. Kuchiki?" he demanded.

Clutching her stomach, Rukia shook her head as she tried to stem the flow of her laughter. She brushed a few tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand and looked at him.

Well, the man looked serious—or had an excellent poker face.

"I'm sorry," Rukia said. "I thought I just heard you say you were here to propose marriage to me. Who put you up to this? Isshin? Where's that sly old man so I can give him his payback for this?"

"My father is in London right now," he answered, still without any humor. "He left two days ago with a warning that if we're not engaged yet by the time he arrived in a week, he would put forward my cousin, Kaien Shiba, as the new CEO of Kurosaki Industries when he retires later this year."

The smile vanished from her mouth as it hung open while his statement replayed in her head. It took a moment before she finally understood what he said. Her brows shot up. "Why the hell would Isshin do that?"

He raised one brow himself. "You call him Isshin like that and you wonder why? Obviously my father is smitten with a teenage gold-digger like you, but instead of marrying you himself, he throws you at me because you probably prefer younger meat."

"If by younger meat you mean yourself, no, thank you," Rukia said acidly, now seething at his insults. "You're obviously made of vile, unpleasant stuff and would be most likely hard to chew on, considering how much of a stiff-ass you are. I would marry Isshin over you any time, except that I don't marry men who are like a father to me because that's just wrong in so many levels. And if you knew your father really well, you'd know that he will never marry anyone else. He can't lose a heart he'd already lost to Masaki a long time ago."

Isshin was a widower after his wife, Masaki died of an aneurysm four years ago. They have a son, which this man is , and three daughters. One was adopted was Isshin told her.

"Then explain to me why he insists that I marry you," he spat out. "Explain why he's willing to go as far as to threaten me out of a position I've worked hard to earn for as long as I could remember. Explain why marrying a nineteen-year-old, foul-mouthed, punch-throwing diner waitress is worth everything I'm already entitled to."

Rukia scoffed. "If you think that way, then you don't deserve anything that you're already entitled to. As for your father's actions, I suggest you ask him because I certainly didn't decree for him to do this. In fact, I'll give him a piece of my mind when I see him—for this completely ridiculous idea, and for putting me through the traumatic experience of having to deal with you."

"You will not tell my father anything except that you've accepted my proposal," He said. "He specifically instructed that you're not to be informed of any of this—that I must convince you to marry me without bribery or coercion."

"Well, now I can see why you won't make a good CEO," Rukia muttered. "Not only are you incapable of following instructions, you're also a cheat. Plus, you're just so effortlessly offensive."

He scowled. "I'm only offensive to opportunists like you who play an old, idiot man right into their plans."

"Idiot?" She asked with a loud, wry laugh. "You really think Isshin is an idiot? You're the one who's an idiot if you think that of him. And as much as I'd like to take the credit for being so cunning, I'm afraid I can't, because if I were really that good in plotting out to marry well, I'd certainly choose someone more pleasant than you are."

"Many things can be made pleasant with a lot of money, Ms. Kuchiki," he sneered. "And I happen to know I'm the biggest catch around here. I'm also not old, bald, fat and strung with a few ex-wives who demand ridiculous alimonies."

She raised a brow at him. "Well, you've certainly got an ego to match your bank account. You must absolutely hate having to grovel at your father's feet for the CEO position, and subject yourself to his whims."

His fists clenched. "What I absolutely hate is providing opportunists like you the chance to take advantage of someone because I need you for something I'm working hard to achieve. But I'm pragmatic, Ms. Kuchiki. Instead of quarreling with you, I'd rather we come to an amicable business agreement that will give us both what we want."

Kneading the space between her brows, Rukia snuck a glance at him. "I'm listening because it's less effort for me than to try to dent the table with you pretty face."

His lips twitched that for a second she thought he was about to smile, but it disappeared so quickly she wasn't even sure she'd seen it in the first place.

"I'll agree with my father's condition and marry you," he started and she clamped down on her protests until he was done. If she let her mouth run away with her, they'd never be done here. Rukia might just kill him before she could walk away from this table. "But I want you to insist on a pre-nup which he didn't want us to have, and I want us to only stay married for a year which was the minimum period he'd accept. Don't ask me why because I don't know what he thinks can be gained out of this to begin with, much less a year into it," he continued.

She put a hand up to stop him, unable to keep a lid on it any longer. "If I were really the opportunist you think I am, why the hell would I agree to a pre-nup that I'm sure would give me nothing, if left to your lawyers to craft?"

"Because I will pay you for your services, Ms. Kuchiki," he said curtly. "I will pay you a million to stay married to me for a year."

Her jaw almost dropped.

A million. That's six zeroes -more zeroes than she got in her bank account before the negative sign. Then Rukia remembered Isshin's goofy, smiling face.

The man was more of a father to her than her own had been. After years of sitting with him while he ate his breakfast at Urahara's and listening to him talk about anything under the sun—whether it was a merger or a lovely memory of Masaki or a few amusing antics by his children—they became good, old friends.

A pang of guilt hit her.

"No, I can't," Rukia said with difficulty because, although she fiercely felt too much loyalty for the old man to do anything like that to him, a million dollars was a fortune for someone like her who had less than nothing.

"No?" He repeated in surprise. Then his eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be so hasty if I were you, Ms. Kuchiki. A million is a lot of money which I know you are in dire need of."

This time, Rukia's own hands clenched into fists. "You don't know anything about me, Mr. Kurosaki."

He shrugged smugly, that bastard. "Oh, I know enough, Ms. Kuchiki. I know, for example, that your father's death left you in a boat-load of debt. The house is currently under water. It's six months behind on the mortgage, and at risk of being foreclosed again after you managed to save it a year ago when you assumed the mortgage yourself. You racked up quite a bit of your own personal debt after your short stint at an art school in Tokyo, and you've sold everything that you could to make some dent on it but you're barely covering the interest. You want to go back to Tokyo and complete your apprenticeship, but you don't even have enough money to get groceries if your recent trips to the food bank are an indication. You're doubling your efforts around the wealthy men who come into Urahara's for better tips, but I doubt that they ever leave you with enough to get you by comfortably."

Her cheeks were so hot with humiliation that they probably resembled ripe tomatoes. Rukia stewed quietly where she sat, glaring at the man and hoping that if she did it hard enough, it would eventually cause him to catch fire and explode.

"I didn't realize you deigned to research a foul-mouthed, punch-throwing diner waitress, a teenage gold-digger, such as myself," Rukia said slowly through gritted teeth. "I could say I'm honored but right now I just feel disgusted by how low you would stoop to get what you want, throwing someone's hardships in her face, to push your cause."

Something flickered in his eyes for a moment before he scowled at her. "I wouldn't have to if you didn't poison my father's brain with this idea. I'm merely pointing out how this could benefit you, , and satisfy my father's demands, and achieve my own goals as well. We all win."

"No, only you win," She said with a snort. "Don't delude yourself that you're doing everyone a favor. For one, you're cheating your father who must have some reason for this demand, preposterous as it may be, and defeating his very purpose in it. Second, you're insulting me with the offer of a million when I truly need it, but not at the price of my integrity or self-respect—or even my sanity because to stay married to you for a year would drive me absolutely bananas. And third, you degrade yourself and your honor by doing everything that you're doing right now—going around your father's back, sacrificing your own conscience and freedom to secure something as material as the title of CEO tacked on to your name when you already have more than you can ever possibly need, and dragging someone into this mess with you when she can be doing more to better her situation than sit around with you and plot against your father—a man that she has the utmost respect for." Rukia took in a deep breath after that rant, feeling incredibly better.

Although his expression had mostly shut down as she was going off at him, his eyes held a glimmer of surprise.

"I wouldn't worry about my conscience, Ms. Kuchiki, considering my father isn't too concerned about his own when he devised this plan with your inspiration, surely," he shot back, no less intense than he had been moments ago. He seemed more riled up actually but Rukia imagined it didn't take much to push Kurosaki off the edge. He portrayed none of the cool, confident composure he was constantly credited for whenever the media speculated about him. "As for insulting you, it's your decision however you'd like take my assessment of your character, and I think that a million is something you can't turn away, no matter your integrity, because integrity will not feed you or put a roof over your head when you're thrown out on the streets," he added. "I could just cut you out of this deal and find another way around my father's demands but I figured this would be easier and best for everyone. It doesn't have to get ugly, you know? Think like a business woman and not like a teenage romantic. You'll find yourself making more practical choices."

"Like you do, obviously," She retorted with a roll of her eyes. "I bet there's not a romantic bone in your body, Mr. Kurosaki—just the cold, mercenary desire to make more money than you could ever possibly need."

He laughed but although his voice was deep and rich, it was harsh and ironic. "While I don't deny that I like making money, Ms. Kuchiki, most of this is simply to avoid more conflict with my father who is deteriorating in health. If you know my father as well as you imply you do, you should know that he's not in good shape."

Her ready response lurched back into her throat and she swallowed hard. He was right. Isshin had looked older and more frail when she first saw him again after she returned to Karakura. He was still a goofy, wily old man who had sunshine in his smile but he had been thinner and more tired than Rukia remembered. Time had been quickly catching up with him after he lost his wife.

"Wouldn't it be worse then, to cheat him like this?" She asked quietly. "Isshin will be so disappointed in me if he finds out I'd do something as despicable as this to him. He'll never forgive me."

"My father's disappointment weighs more heavily on you than a million?" He asked in confusion. "I'm no longer surprised why you're so poor, Ms. Kuchiki. Did you let your father dig himself further into debt because you couldn't bear to deprive him of whatever made him happy, no matter how bad it was for him?"

"Don't you dare speak about my father," Rukis warned him in a low, angry voice.

He scoffed. "He wasted his life away, drinking until it killed him, yet you display such loyalty? Aren't you up to your eyeballs in debt because of him?"

"Whatever kind of life my father lived bore no impact on yours, so you can withhold your judgement because no one needs it," She snapped. "As for your father, he's a good man and deserves none of this."

"And I deserve none of his manipulation!" he shot back. "Everything was fine with my life until he decided to drop this bomb on me, and now I have to rearrange my entire existence to accommodate a wife I did not require nor find convenient to begin with. Not only that, I don't get a say in the woman I'm supposed to marry at all. Of all of the women he could choose, he decided that you would be the perfect candidate—but you're too young, too rough on the edges, too temperemental, too raunchy in that tiny uniform, and too much of a pain in the ass."

"Well, I'm glad to be superlative in some ways," Rukia muttered sarcastically. "But yes, you're right. I'm definitely not the best choice to be your wife. I'm way too hot for you, too good, too honest and generous a person for someone as greedy as you are, too real to spend time in the company of conniving folks such as yourself, and too pissed off at you to ever consider tying myself to you in marital union, much less stay in the same room as you."

His eyes glinted in anger. "Ms. Kuchiki—"

"You've used up the ten seconds I gave you about ten minutes ago, Mr. Kurosaki, and I'm done. Now, I have to get back to my job," Rukia announced, standing up and leaping up over the seats so she could crouch her way out of the booth across the top of the table.

Rukia walked away because she was about to do something she would likely regret for the rest of her life. Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't the man she imagined, but he was another one that let her down, and that stung most of all.

me: Welcome fanfic readers, first I'm a new Bleach fan just finished the anime, manga and the movies. It was totally awesome and i found myself addicted to it, and yaeh the ending maybe was a bit disappointment but the rest was just amazing! and i've fallen inlove with ichiRuki pairing after reading a lot of fics about them here. And after reading funnyeasyme's 'accidentally in love" I'm inspired to upload one. This story is inspired by my cousin's idea. And we are co-writing this.

This story is free and reviews is all we want for our hard work ..

Please Review! So I'll knew if there's someone reading this.