A/N: I'm not dead. Lazy, over-worked, but not dead. I apologize to those who have been reading my works that have yet to be updated. My English teacher loves to do projects, and because I'm in honors makes it a lot harder-damn. Here is my Valentine gift to you.

Warnings: Ocness (I tried really hard) Errors (Did go over it twice, sorry)

I tried to improve from last IchiRuki one-shot. I don't think its better; my best shot is serious romances. Any way, I thank those who take in the time to read, alert, and review. The last one is the best because whether I am getting criticized or praised, both are good because it gives off an intellectual atmosphere. I thank anyone who offers constructive criticism and advice.

Everyone have a lovely Valentine's Day! I got a stuffed Gorilla with a heart with Wild Thing sewn into it; I named him Kong. (Not original; love the film!)

BLEACH belongs to Tite Kubo. The song First Taste belongs to Fiona Apple. I don't own the movie Titanic either; if I did Jack would have LIVED.

Read. Relish. Review. (I've missed typing that)

Rukia wondered what a kiss taste like.

Was it tangy? Was it sweet? Could it even be sour and bitter? She decided to not ask Ichigo what a kiss tasted like, for she felt it would cause a big dilemma all around. Yet, she couldn't help wonder what a kiss tasted like. She frequently saw random couples kissing in public and with their lips and tongues always touching-could there possibly be a taste.

She didn't always wonder how a kiss tasted like. Her mind would often wander off to how it felt like. Were kisses hard? Were they soft? Were they passionate? Were they cold? She doubted the last one could be, but in the world she lived in anything was possible. If she were ever to gain a kiss she would like a hot one.

A hot one?

Yes, a hot one.

Maybe Rukia held a perverted side in her, but she didn't think much of it. As long as no one knew about her perverted side, then it was okay. She wanted a hot kiss, a passionate kiss, like the ones in the movie. Where after an intense scene where the female love interest is saved from certain death, the male grabs her into his arms, and then he does it. He crashes his lips onto hers, and they are left in this two minute or so moment where the kiss extends deeper and deeper. The guy's hands would move to the girl's waist, and the girl's hands would grip fiercely onto the male's head.

The first movie she had watched like that was with Yuzu on a Sunday evening. She was downstairs for some reason, and she ended up staying downstairs and watching some movie called "Titanic". America had a way to over dramatize everything; when she got into the second hour of the movie, Rukia was so enthralled in the story she couldn't help herself.

The movie was addicting.

Fortunately, Ichigo had headed out for the evening, leaving her behind. Obviously she was upset with him for doing what he did and leaving her behind. Then he countered saying, "Damn it Rukia it's only Chad, Ishida, and me!" "For Christ's sake, you can stay here!"

Ichigo's words resulted in him getting smacked in the head many times repeatedly.

She relented. He could have his fun with them, and besides she deserved a break. Isshin was busy with a patient, Karin was at the park playing soccer, and Yuzu was cooking dinner for when Karin returned home. With dinner finished and ready to be eaten, she turned the channel to an American like one. There it was, all in its dominating lonely housewives glory, Titanic.

Yes, at the beginning the movie was slow. Yuzu practically begged Rukia to stay and watch it with her. Rukia had to say, Yuzu had a powerful and yet cute hold on her.

The plot was intriguing.

It did get thick.

Then she fell.

The movie was gripping; it brought her into her own imagination. There was one scene, which she found both heavily offensive and yet utterly wonderful, where the male protagonist was drawing a picture of the nude female protagonist. She didn't know why, but the scene was etched into her very mind. Where she lived, there would be none of this, none of that would ever occur. Why? Simply because she didn't live in a world such as the world of the living. She didn't live in a world where couples openly professed their love; intimate moments such as kissing, hugging, and etc. were highly confidential. Those were the moments held between married couples. Even those who were engaged had extreme limits to what they could and could not do.

In this world, it was endless.

The scenes to follow held kissing, sex in a car, and ultimately the grand Titanic sinking beneath the icy depths. By time the point where the ship was finally devoured by the sea, Yuzu was already bawling her eyes out.

"I'll never let go Jack."

"I'll never let go."

There Jack went, after their wrists had frozen together, deep down into the icy depths of the sea. Never to be seen or heard of again. The movie concluded with an elder version of Rose, the female lead, who had lived the life that Jack wished for her to live. Rukia had to admit, it was a moving film and she did enjoy herself.

Did all of that occur in people's lives during the time period?

"Oh Rukia-chan, it's an American film." The girl chuckled, "It's possible, but I was told in history class it was very rare, morals were really strict back then."

If morals were so strict back then, what happened?

Rukia had been to America before; well, in her shinigami form before. They appeared similar to the Japanese, mentally wise. Children went to school, adults handled their worldly affairs, and hollows covered the streets attempting to devour the innocent souls.

Facial expressions of the Americans were in comparison to the Japanese. They expressed fear, happiness, and other emotions as anyone else. That was only based on a few observations; when she did compare the two (there wasn't much to compare) their feelings and facial expressions came to mind.

She knew America had more, a more…free style. In her words they had a very vulgar style; her train of thought was probably due to of how she was raised. She assumed they were nice people, if she had ever directly spoken with one. Once a human soul made their way to Soul Society it was near to impossible to identify their race or which country they originally came from. Once you died, once your soul made it to Soul Society, your former identity is erased and you form a new one.

There were some cases where a person actually remembered their former selves. It was usually a figment; only a slight remembrance of their former lives, such as an object or a person important to them.

Returning to the matter at hand, after watching Titanic, something had sparked within Rukia. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was there. A shuddering feeling it was. Shuddering, frustrating, delightful, sweet, there were many adjectives to describe it but none could pin point it. She wanted it and she didn't want it. Morality overcame her, and it sickened her to no end that she would allow herself to indulge in such fashions.

To want a man to hold her in a passionate, protective manner. To want a man brush his fine lips against her. To want a man to dominate her altogether.

Here was the catch, she shouldn't have been thinking those things, let alone form realistic, over exaggerated images of her in "certain" moments with ones of the opposite sex. Her name was Kuchiki Rukia. She came from the noble Kuchiki family, one of the most powerful families in Soul Society. She held herself with dignity and integrity; she held her hand out to the poor, she protected the weak, she was a Kuchiki.

As a shinigami, she protected the innocent souls of the living world from the darkness that would devour them if not tended to. She was a warrior, she fought along side her comrades, all determined to fight for their family and friends.

However, after watching the movie, something had awoken in Rukia. She didn't outwardly show it, and she didn't give any obvious hints that something else dwelled inside her was present, but it did spark something inside her. Her classmates habitually spoke of it all the time. Boyfriends, crushes, and more consistently left their mouths. One would say this about one boy and then the other would add more; there she would sit beside them listening with little interest. As the months progressed and as she became adjusted to this world, she did become interested.

How boys kissed girls, how they hugged, and how they acted around them.

To put more emphasis on how she was: Rukia didn't care. She didn't care how boys kissed girls, how they hugged, or how they acted around them. She didn't care how it felt or what taste a kiss held, and she surely didn't concern herself over the opposite sex. The only reason she was in the living world originally was because she had lost her shinigami powers to that damn Ichigo. She could have cared less, there were more important happenings all around them and all they had to think about was exams and boys.

These days, thus far, had changed. Rukia gained interest in her friend's pointless conversations. Especially after watching Titanic, she wanted to know more. She wanted to know how it felt to kiss a boy, she wanted to know how it felt to hug them, and she wanted to understand how they truly acted around girls. Most importantly, in her mind, she wanted to know the taste of a kiss, if one existed. So in her adventure to gain knowledge she read magazines, read novellas-ranging from kiddy romance to erotica (although the erotica was hard to obtain), and watching romance movie after romance movie disregarding which country it came from.

She wanted to know.

Naturally, it had to be hidden. She couldn't let anyone find out; she didn't know what would happen if Ichigo found any of her books. So as a precaution, Rukia bought her regular manga series for protection. If Ichigo dared to sneak into her personal things, which she doubted, he would not only suffer an array of her fists connecting with various parts of his body but he wouldn't find anything of importance.

"Damn it are we gonna go to the book store again Rukia?" Ichigo growled, "We went there three days ago!"

"Shut up!" She added quickly, "There is a book I want, and I didn't see it last time, if you don't want to go then turn around."

Rukia knew he wasn't going to.

He wanted to be with her.

She wasn't going to let him see what she was buying.

He glared down at her petite form and growled, "Fine, but don't take the whole fucking time, there are places we need to be."

She smirked, "Like where Ichigo?"

He didn't reply; he only gave her a dark glare that told her he was really losing his patience with her and that he was going to blow one of these days. The glare was amusing in Rukia's eyes.

"Fine."

They would enter the bookstore as a pair, but Rukia would easily slip away from her companion with haste. It wasn't as if Ichigo didn't know which section she was heading for. He would wait around ten minutes before finally searching down the aisles to find her at the manga section; her violet orbs wide with delight in a child like way, her fingers gingerly pulling the spines of the books out to get a better look at the title. Slender, pale fingers gently brushing them in a careful manner, afraid to use too much force on them and they would break. Ichigo would complain bitterly about how she took her time and that she found her damn book so they could leave; inwardly he enjoyed himself.

It was seeing another side of her, he assumed, that made the time between the two enjoyable. Times where she wasn't so uptight, times where she allowed the walls of her mind to slack, and her shoulders would drift down. Her breathing wasn't so tense, and her body swayed in a relaxed fashion. With the nice summer dress she was wearing at the time made her womanly curves show in a better view; Ichigo reprimanded himself for thinking those thoughts, there wasn't much to do though-he was a teenager and he had crazy hormones.

Still, it was a nice sight.

"Got them," she stacked them against her chest, "we can go now."

"Finally," he said in his grouchy voice, "tired of waiting."

As they walked towards the register side by side, there was a question Ichigo wanted to ask Rukia.

"Why do you do that?"

She knew what he was talking about, but deciding to play along, "What?"

He frowned, "You always pick up another book as we're walking to the register." Then he pointed out, "You always refuse to take the short cut to the front."

She shrugged, "You've noticed." "You don't have to walk beside me; you can always go ahead me if you want."

Ichigo detected no snippiness or annoyance in her words, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and silently walked beside her. He wasn't going to say it aloud; he liked walking beside Rukia and he knew where she was, making it all the better.

It had become a habit of hers. Whenever Ichigo walked her to the bookstore, Rukia would quickly snatch one of the erotica novels when they were exiting. She doubted that Ichigo was noisy enough to actually search the section to see what she was reading, and if he did he would be too flustered and in pure shock to talk to her about it. She knew it for a fact; it was how Ichigo performed, and it was fun.

Reading her novels didn't take her long. She was normally done with them after a week or so. Learning from experience, she desired to spend as much time with the story as long as she possibly could. Free time and money was scarce, she had to find ways to expand those days with reading manga and her novels. Reading a chapter or two a day was stressful for Rukia, who wanted to dwell deeper into imaginary world, and it was annoying when she had to control her hobby.

Want was a powerful thing.

It had to be controlled or else it would run amuck.

As a shinigami, it was required and expected from Rukia to have control of all her emotions. Lingering feelings, sudden impulses, they were not invited or accepted into the world of shinigami.

These days it was hard for her to follow those guidelines.

Ever since meeting Ichigo, everything had changed. The way she saw the world and herself had drastically taken a turn. It had become a big debate in her mind whether it was for better or for worse. There had been a vacant space within her for some time; the only time she could recall where the vacancy had been filled was with her time with Renji. A time of endless youth, a time where life rolled on by day by day, night by night. Life was not easy, it was brutal, it was cruel. Even so, the world was so vivid and colorful. Her heart would pump blood throughout her body with excitement and thrill.

She could look at the red head man and smile a smile she had never smiled before. She could wrap her arms around him in a sibling hug, only a hug saved for him, and she could laugh loudly and proud as she pleased. When they were young, freedom and hard work was there for them.

In those times she was a child, she was a fighter, and she was herself.

If Rukia had to be blatantly honest with herself she would have to say she wasn't always completely sincere with herself when she became a shinigami compared to her pre shinigami days.

Not saying she didn't love her job, she truly did. With gaining such a privileged and rare occupation came the price of losing something you always had and didn't know. It was the same with becoming a Kuchiki, she had lost a part of herself she wasn't even aware existed.

Things changed, as they always do.

Ichigo had ignited the dying flame within her and set it to flame. It was because of him she wanted to do things differently; it was because of him she was thinking these things.

Often in her fantasies the male who would be seducing Rukia didn't have a face. He held only a white mask on his feature, preventing her from identifying him. He was this big black blur of nothingness, no face but had a body. He had fingers, finger nails, legs, feet, shoulders, and etc. However, he contained no face, and there was the problem.

Where was his face?

Each scenario her mind forged for her, he was this person who had no face. He held a mask at all times, dazzling her with his brilliance. In one scenario she was a princess waiting for her prince charming to save her. In another she was a Rose like character on a doomed ocean liner; they were making out in the back of a car, he drew an artistic image of her nude, and then he ultimately died after the ship sunk into the water.

Titanic scenario was not her favorite.

Rukia's favorite scenario was one that originated from her own life. She was in Chinese garb, her hair tied up in a pin, and her eyes flaring with inner strength. In front her stood a monstrous beast; a snarling growl, saliva drooling into pools, and disgusting fur covering its daunting body. Holding her weapon in hand, a pole, Rukia was ready to charge at the beast with all the strength she possessed.

She wasn't alone.

Her male companion was right beside her; ready to fight.

He still remained with no face; despite the major flaw, Rukia had never felt so at peace. Her companion held an atmosphere of pure serenity; she was able to fight by his side with no worries. Confidence, so much of it, rushed through her veins. Her mind was set and clam, and yet there was so much pump going through her. It wasn't because of the fight itself.

It was because of him.

As the battle progressed, details started to form on his face. His fighting techniques were similar to her eyes, and as he became detailed so did his features. He possessed a fine, thin jaw, his lips drawn into a thin line, and his eyes…a gorgeous color of light brown. Eyes that shown only the fierceness of determination; it was such a great sensation that surged throughout her body. Warm and peaceful, it felt familiar; too familiar in her taste-it was there.

Then a nice mop of strawberry blond hair appeared on top of his head, finishing the figure.

"Yo."

"Hey Ichigo."

The scenario went on similarly to their real life battles with hollows. She fought beside him, performing to the best of her abilities to assist him in any way. They cursed at each other while fighting, but it only made the scenario even more realistic. He teased her with being too slow, and she countered with him being a dumbass. Their concern over the beast was near to gone, and all the while was enjoying attacking the monster with ease. All the same, the beast refused to admit defeat so easily and transformed into an altered form of itself.

"Be careful," she called out to him, "it's stronger now."

The imaginary Ichigo scoffed, "So what-I'll defeat him."

"Cocky bastard."

She followed him into battle, knowing full well it was pointless to argue with him but she would do it anyways. The battle ensued, and with it the beast became stronger. Its movements became unpredictable, and Rukia was having trouble dodging its immense claws. She cursed; she could feel Ichigo's eyes bore into her back as he fought along against the hollow like beast. For some reason she refused to let herself appear weak in front of him; she refused to be brought down by a miserable brute in front of him, she down right refused it. It had become a trait of hers, a trait she installed herself, Rukia hated to appear weak.

Especially in front of Ichigo.

Didn't matter if it was an imaginary Ichigo.

She couldn't appear weak.

"Rukia!" His voice called out to her. A shattering streak of pain shot through her rib cage, one of the massive paws had nicked her in the side. Having a big paw, and having a small body was a bad combination for Rukia. So when she did get hit all she heard was Ichigo's voice, a dark chuckle, and the sudden streak of pain that shot all the way through her body, making her want to scream in agony.

Everything after was black.

"Rukia, Rukia, are you alright?"

Blurry. One word to describe her eyesight, blurry. Water was splashing on her body on each part, she assumed it was raining. Besides the rain, the cold, damp feeling of the rain, there was warmth. Strong, muscular arms wrapped around her petite body and above her she could see hazel eyes filled with concern.

"Ich…Ichigo?" "What are you doing?"

"Idiot," his frown deepened, "you need to be more careful."

She could tell he was using her tone of voice whenever he got injured, a turn of events indeed.

She scoffed at him, "Yeah I know, where's the hollow?"

"Don't worry about him-he's gone." He clutched her tiny, thin body closer to him. Closing her eyes, she could hear Ichigo's pounding heart. Accelerating with each second. Pump, pump, pump. It was a repeated process, and it became reassuring. The rain didn't feel as heavy as it did when she first awoken.

"Rukia, Rukia, don't close your eyes."

"Hmm..," she was entrapped by the warmth of his body.

"Don't close your eyes," putting more force in his words, "keep them open, don't close them."

"Um..okay, I'll try."

All she wanted in this scenario was to sleep. Sleep forever, sleep for a few hours, or possibly a few minutes went through her mind. All she wanted was to sleep; with Ichigo hovering over her with a more than concerned look on his face, she had doubt she would be able to.

"Rukia…" He brushed a strand of hair from her face, "Damn midget."

She could have slapped him for that.

She was going to.

That is, until she felt pressure on her frail lips. His hand grabbing onto her head softly, pulling he closely to him, and her already wide violet orbs widening even further because of the distinct contact between them. An intense splash of ecstasy took over her body; her tiny hands clutched onto his wardrobe, forcing him to comply with her demands for more. Her mouth had opened for him on impact and they were now dueling with their tongues for dominance. His tongue thicker and larger than hers flowing throughout and dancing with hers. At the same time trying to force her down to do what he wanted her to do.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Ichigo was kissing her. Rukia was being kissed by Ichigo. Ichigo and Rukia were kissing.

A completely foreign atmosphere swallowed Rukia. Not once since she had watched Titanic had she had a fantasy as intense as the one she had on one particular day. As random as it was, it started off as a short scene and developed into a grand movie. The mind was truly a wonderful thing; blessing her with such an imagination. An imagination that took her places she desired to be. She could be anywhere, she could be anyone, and she could be accompanied by anyone.

Imagination was such a beautiful thing.

"I'm going crazy."

And that is when Kuchiki Rukia started fantasying about Kurosaki Ichigo.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Fantasies that included Ichigo weren't frequent. They arose occasionally in her sleep; when her brain wasn't timing itself on how many hours she was sleeping. Dreams came easily to her when she was sleeping, really sleeping. When her brain was free to wander wherever it pleased without restrictions, which was the time for dreams to come out and play.

"It would be awkward to kiss him, no?" She stifled a giggle that threatened to explode from her mouth.

Lying in her bed, Rukia read articles in a magazine she had bought the other day. They spoke of how the tongue circulates, and how passionate a male may want to be with his first kiss. It is the female's job to make him feel comfortable and vice versa. All the while she forged an image of Ichigo into her head. Thin lips that were always angled in a deep scowl, a thin jaw that held a strong, pointed end; Rukia had never thought about it before, but since the dream became trapped in her mind-it was interesting.

She wondered how it would taste if she ever kissed Ichigo. How his rough looking lips would feel against her tender ones. Day dreaming was a treasure to her; there were different scenarios for the two of them. Her opinion on all of these varied; some days she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach and some days she lit those very butterflies on fire, damning them within her.

As a shinigami she couldn't allow personal attachments overwhelm her. As a Kuchiki she couldn't permit passionate feelings to abrupt her thoughts.

Rukia did try, she did. She tried to push back those feelings that started to swell like a balloon in side her. To ensure images of Ichigo remained platonic in her mind Rukia discontinued her novels, her magazines, even her romance movies. Sacrifices had to be made, her images had to cease.

They backfired.

Her dreams would encounter her at night, where she slept soundly in Yuzu's and Karin's bedroom. They would hold different scenarios, different meanings, and each time Rukia would receive her first taste of a kiss from Ichigo. Because it was a dream Rukia didn't know how it tasted or how it felt, but it was a nice dream nonetheless. Because of the dream Rukia would frequently day dream during class, causing her to fail her classes. It didn't concern her; being a god of death meant there was no need to worry about foolish classes.

Then she would have to scold herself because she was daydreaming about him.

"Rukia…"

"Yes Ichigo"

"What are you doing in my bed?"

"It's comfortable."

Rukia had to admit, Ichigo was a funny character. If it wasn't his hair that made her laugh, truthfully it wasn't, it had to be his glares. Each glare he threw out at had a specific meaning; whether it was "Rukia give me the last piece" or "Damn it Rukia don't draw on that!" or "Rukia you damn midget" or…

"Rukia you idiot".

Each of his glares held some sort of expression, and she was able to read them with ease. She could tell which glare meant without having to think on it. In return Ichigo was able to read Rukia's glares just as easily: "Damn you Ichigo" or "Ichigo do not insult my drawings" or "Ichigo be careful!" or…

"Ichigo you idiot."

It had become so simple for them they didn't need to attempt to read each other glares.

Pulling out his school utensils, Ichigo started his homework, "Fine sit there see if I care."

"You sound like you care."

He clutched his pencil fiercely, trying to ignore her voice. She noticed how his shoulder shot up straight when she retorted and she smirked.

She took an inward note of that.

Rukia watched Ichigo in silence. His face scrunched up in frustration and determination to complete his homework correctly. His lips curved downwards in a deep, deep frown that tackled any other frown he ever formed on his lips. His lips, pursed together in a firm formation. They itched with concentration and patience. As she watched silently her mind began to drift off where those fine, rough looking lips were crashing onto her own. How they would teasingly brush against her willowy neck, gently pecking on it.

She reprimanded herself again.

Those types of thoughts were wrong and immoral.

How she desired them.

"Something wrong?" Ichigo noticed Rukia suddenly going quiet.

She shook her head, "No."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" She quirked her eyebrow, "How can you tell?'

"Because I just can," Ichigo grunted.

Rukia didn't reply to it; she knew it was true.

Ichigo was fidgeting. He could feel her gaze on him; vivid violet eyes staring at him without wavering. He knew it was unintentional, he knew she wasn't in this world at the moment; it didn't make it any less nerve wrenching. Violet eyes were bearing into his back, scarring him, and making him feel a bubbling sensation inside of him. Rukia didn't know how she made him feel; how his body would react in various ways that were typical for a boy of his age and embarrassing to him all the same.

Abrubtly turning around he said in a flushed tone, "What's your problem?"

Jumping slightly, Rukia detected the tone of his voice wasn't very "Ichigo", "Problem, what's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem, you have a problem!"

"No, it's you who sounds out of breath!"

…

The fights they were involved were 9/10 pointless arguments. Humorous to their friends, to their enemies, and aggravating to them it wasn't a shock. As they shouted at each other, because at this point the two of them were in action and were up in the other's face, or in Rukia's face tip toeing to reach it to Ichigo's chin. As they argued, as they threw out verbal slander, the two of them couldn't stop staring at the other's lips.

Thin, strong lips. Puffy, fragile lips.

Oh, how they longed for them.

"Fine Ichigo," Rukia sat back down on the mattress, "finish your homework."

"But you haven't gotten out of my bed."

"You said you didn't care."

Growling, Ichigo returned to his homework, and Rukia returned to lying on Ichigo's bed. Her eyes carefully glanced at Ichigo every now and then before quickly returning to the window beside his bed. The sun continued to throw its beams of light on her, bringing upon comfort and relaxation.

"Ichigo…"

Sighing, "What?"

Lying on the bed and not looking at him, she felt Ichigo finishing his homework to stare at her with his questioning gaze. In the back of her mind she told herself she should let the topic go; then the other half told her to continue on, it wouldn't hurt if she asked.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?"

…

"What!?" His face delirious, "What kind of question is that!?"

Sitting up in a comfortable position Rukia shrugged off his foolish behavior, "I assumed it would be an appropriate question due to your age."

Ichigo growled, "Well it isn't, that's a personal question!"

"I'm taking it as a no then." She sighed; it wasn't surprising in the least. Ichigo was too dense to actually kiss a girl anyways.

"It's none of your business!" He stomped to her, "And besides, why would you care-what's the deal!?"

"I've never been kissed," she sounded slightly annoyed, "and I was wondering if you've been."

Turning her head away from Ichigo's ridiculous look, she felt her cheeks heating up, and she started to regret everything she had done. Thinking on it, it was stupid for her to say those things in public and let alone Ichigo. Ichigo, on his part, was relatively shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. He wasn't surprised that she hadn't been kissed; it wasn't hard to pin point that out. Yet, it was a bit off hand for Rukia to admit something like it.

"Why are you telling me?" "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," with more force than intended, "I only wanted to know and now that I do…you can drop it."

Turning his entire body in the chair, "What if I don't want to."

"Then I'll drop."

"But I won't let you drop it."

"Ichigo," her normal firm tone signaling to him to shut his mouth, but he wasn't listening.

"Why did you ask and why did you tell me?" It didn't take a genius to see that Ichigo was interested in this conversation, very interesting. His amber eyes searched her violet orbs; if he could detect anything that may lead to his answers, then it wasn't shown in Rukia's eyes. The reason could have possibly been because of Ichigo's inability to read other's with such ease.

Frowning, Rukia could see he wasn't going to end it. "I asked because of…questions at school, you know, Chizuru and stuff like that."

"Damn," plopping back into his chair, "I'm not surprised you know-it being Chizuru and girls' shit like that, you shouldn't worry about it ya know."

Puffing up, "I do not!" "I just wanted to know." Looking down at her hands, pretending they were the most interesting things on the planet, Rukia could feel her frustration and anger turn into shame. It was stupid enough for her to have such perverted thoughts, but it was a different level when she dragged Ichigo into it. She was shinigami, a Kuchiki, she couldn't indulge herself in these type of affairs. They were amoral; they could bring shame upon her brother and her family. No, she shouldn't have done what she did, she shouldn't have.

"Rukia, are you alright?"

His voice was the same, rough and inconsiderate. The way he said it, the way it came from his lips sounded so soft.

"I'm fine Ichigo."

"Well you know," he coughed into his hands, "we could-fix the problem."

"What problem?"

He was standing in front her, his hands shoved incredibly deep into his pockets. If any further he would have ripped them open with his bare hands. His eyes darting from her to any other object in the bedroom; a visible tint of red started to make themselves known on his cheeks and around his nose.

"…," fidgeting as he stood, "your kiss problem."

Her shoulders shot up at the offer and then her own face became caressed with red tints on her cheeks and around her nose. The two of them, one on the bed and the other standing in front of her, were having a blushing competition without knowing it.

Biting her bottom lip, "Do you want to?" "Ichigo, you don't have to do this, it was only a question."

"Shut up ya damn midget," he barked at her, "I actually find this interesting; think of it like this, we're helping each other." "I give you a simple kiss and it solves both of our problems; so, don't get all soft on me."

The same old Ichigo and same old Ichiog logic. It was amazing how he was able to do it. Just a few seconds ago he was blushing like a child, and then he compassionately reformed back to his grouchy, barking self. In Rukia's mind, however, it was one of Ichigo's unexplainable abilities.

"Then this is an experiment," she replied quizzically.

"Absolutely," his grouchy self taking control.

"Then what are you waiting for," she barked back at him, "let's get this over with."

Bossy ass bitch.

Lowering his head to Rukia's level, their lips were closing the gap between them at a slow, but steady pace. All of a sudden, in a flash of bright light, they felt it. Their lips brushed against each other with such sincerity it was impossible to imagine; then it happened, their lips finally made absolute connection with each other. The rush that went through Rukia, as well as Ichigo, was so intense, so foreign, so enthralling, they couldn't even describe it with words. There wasn't any tongue action; if there was the purity of the "first taste" would be ruined. However, the thought was provoking. The kiss was tender, to the point of being childish, and despite this fact, it felt in comparision to the most seductive tongue lashing. Time stood still for them, the clock on Ichigo's desk seemingly to slow down for the two of them. They were in their own world, conjoined only by their lips. As with the real world, which their physical bodies remianed, it happened too quickly, therefore it had to end too quickly.

"Ichigo!!!" His bedroom door being bust opened by an over enthusiastic Isshin, "My son, you have finally done it!!" "You have finally earned the sweet maiden, Daddy's so proud of you!!"

"What the fuck!?"

Isshin did a nose dive, aiming to hug and kick his son at the same time. Before he could even touch Ichigo, the latter was already in movement and made a direct hit to his face. The older Kurosaki was punched out of the room in a matter of seconds; his body hitting the wall of the hallway with such velocity their was a loud crack.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million damn times, stay the hell away from my room, or at least knock, fuck!!"

"But Ichigo," Isshin gurgled out his mouth, "Yuzu and I wanted to know if you really kissed Rukia-chan, she's such a lovely girl."

"Yuzu?"

Popping carefully from behind the doorway, "Hello Nii-chan."

Rukia took a quick look at Ichigo, who was glowering darkly. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here!!"

"My son!" "He has grown up so much; don't you see Masaki I have trained him well!"

Ichigo's response was a swift quick in the gut, and this continued as Isshin tumbled down the stairs. Yuzu trailed quietly after them, hoping that her older brother would refrain from killing their father. She hadn't seen him this angry since Isshin suggested they dress up as bunnies for Rukia's birthday the previous year. "Ichi-nii, don't hurt him too badly!!"

"Dad is such an idiot, but he's right you know." "You are a good person."

Karin came into view. She appeared to be a feminine version of Ichigo, not in a bad way of course. She possessed a soccer ball beneath her arm and the other on her hip as she nodded to herself, agreeing to a silent compromise. Turning to where a doors use to stand proudly, she gave Rukia a smug look.

"Well, how did it taste?"

"You've always wondered how," she chuckled at Rukia's dubious look, "tell me, how was it?" When Rukia gave her a questioning look Karin only shook her head and her smug look grew, "I found your magazines; you seriously need to find better hiding places, if you're going to be his girlfriend afterall."

"Hey!" "You shouldn't have been reading those, and I am not his girlfriend!"

"Ri-ight Rukia-chan," Karin laughed, "and I'm the Empress of Japan." "Now come on, how did it taste?"

Rukia glared at the younger girl. Obviously, many happenings that were suppose to be kept secret in the Kurosaki household could never be secret. Sighing, she relented to the ever growing haughty look on Karin's face.

"My first…," she chuckled, "well…"

Crash.

"Ichigo," they heard Isshin shriek, "I need that, don't break all my bones, son!"

"You should've thought about that before you decided to spy on me and bust into my room!"

"Ichi-nii watch out for the vase!"

Sighing, "You better hold the answer Rukia-chan; I have to stop Ichigo from killing Dad."

"I'll help; it is partially my fault anyways."

The two of them went downstairs to retrieve Isshin from Ichigo's death grasp.

All the same, Rukia smiled a little smile that gleamed like a thousand suns.

My first taste. It wasn't at all what I expected. It wasn't what the novels, magazines, or even the girls at school described.

It wasn't tangy.

It wasn't bitter.

It wasn't sour.

And it was not hot. I wouldn't have minded if it was.

It was incredibly soft. It was incredibly sweet.

For the most part, I wasn't surprised that it tasted exactly like a strawberry.

Rukia knew, oh she knew all too well, that Ichigo would be offering more of his Strawberry Kisses.

A/N: I really don't have much to say. I'm sorry if the characters are OC, and I'm sorry if there are too many grammatical errors. I'm really sorry for my lack of updates. It's a combination of life, laziness, and writer's block. I have several incomplete BLEACH one-shots, all IchiRuki, on my computer. I was determined to finish this one for Valentine's Day. I don't know too much about Rukia. On my previous one-shot I was told there was a bit too much fluff, so I added Isshin. Then there was the ocness, so I tried a bit harder at keeping them in character.

Leave all opinions and flames in reviews, both will be heavily appreciated. Especially, since it has been like forever since my last update. (Sorry!)

Have a bless day! And a lovey-dovey Valentine's!