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woodrokiro · 2 months

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Do It For the Band, Part Nine (Fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant.Band AU.

Read the rest on Ao3

When Ichigo finishes his story, Tatsuki has no words. She’s absolutely baffled at the man before her.

The two sit in silence for a solid moment before Ichigo tips back the last dregs of his beer, like he’s playing at being casual but he’s Ichigo Kurosaki and he’s never casual and he’s —

“You are the biggest idiot on this planet,” she finally answers in wonder. Ichigo scoffs and gets up to throw his bottle away, turning his back to her.

“Yeah, yeah, I figured you’d say that. So you see? I fucked up, but it’s not like it’s completely my fau—”

Instincts are strange: how fast your muscles can move before you have even a single thought. Like the feeling in the pit of your stomach you get when you meet someone sketchy, or the way human newborns know to hold their breath underwater.

Or the way Tatsuki’s arm finds a nearby pillow and chucks it straight at Ichigo’s head.

The guitarist yelps, throwing his hand to his head protectively as he eyes his attacker with obvious betrayal. “Tatsuki, what the hell?!”

She laughs shortly, shaking her head and getting up. “Unbelievable, Ichigo. Un-fucking-believable.”

“It’s not funny, you could’ve—you could’ve really thrown me off my balance or something!”

“Oh shut up, don’t be a baby… Or hand over the bottle so I can hit it over your skull and do some real damage.”

“N-no!” Ichigo is clearly bewildered and hides said bottle behind his back. “The hell’s the matter with yo—”

“Ichigo. She’s in love with you.”

His mouth snaps shut into a scowl and his eyes don’t meet hers. “Did you even listen to me? Clearly not.”

“‘Did you even listen to me?’” The drummer mimics, and he has the audacity to look at her like she’s nuts. “Ichigo. My dear, sweet summer child. My oldest, closest friend — no, no, don’t make that face, don’t make it weird — … Have you listened to yourself? She made you listen to Taylor Swift and dance with her. She bought your shitty earphone excuse to be physically closer to you. She listened to Joni Mitchell for you. She slept with you — and yes, that is a big deal, considering Rukia is the biggest prude known to mankind except where it counts —”

“Not that big of a prude,” Ichigo huffs, blushing, and jumps when Tatsuki points wildly at him.

“Exactly! To you she isn’t! My point exactly! And, and, let’s not forget about the songs she wrote about you?! ‘Amber eyes turn me dead/Dust to dust until dark’? Who says that about a person they’re not head over heels for? She was pissed, yeah, but pissed because of how obsessed she is with you!!”

“Well… Okay that’s not necessarily—”

“Who knows what else happened when the two of you were alone! And even after all that you put her through — with the album, with Orihime, with the whole thing with her friend whose name is Absolutely Her Friend And Nothing Else — after all that, she still learned and performed the song you told her reminds you of your mom! Your dearly beloved, dead mother! The person that taught you everything you know about music — she did that for you and oh hey by the way: it’s the song that reminds her of her first kiss. With you.” Tatsuki huffs, and no she’s not going to cry but she is humorously emotional for her friend. “Ichigo. You are living a lesbian’s wet dream and you are wasting it.”

The room is quiet, with only the low hum of the air conditioner filling the sound between them. Suddenly, slowly — she catches the slight lift of Ichigo’s lips, and it’s infectious.

The two of them begin to laugh. It’s only a short series of chuckles from both sides, but immediately the air lightens because Tatsuki knows there it is, he’s getting it.

“That doesn’t — okay, that doesn’t explain the ‘friend,’ or whatever he is. Doesn’t explain the hugging.”

Tatsuki rolls her eyes at the sheer thickness of this guy’s skull. “Ichigo, normal friends hug. Not everyone has a friendship with the I-hate-you-but-love-you bit you and I have going on.”

“Careful, Tatsuki. That’s the second weirdest thing you’ve said to me today. Can’t have you getting soft.”

“Honestly it’s Orihime’s fault. Love does that, numbskull. I think you’re already quite familiar with all that, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” His eyes shift to the alarm clock next to his bed, and his smile drops a little in uncharacteristic nervousness. “It’s late. She’s probably asleep though, huh?”

To her credit: she says nothing about the way his hand is already moving to the door handle, body half-turned. Bullshit, she almost says — but sees the slight nervous shuffle in his feet and recognizes what he actually needs from her, maybe has never needed from anyone except Rukia: reassurance.

“Of course she’s not, dumbass.” She grins softly, and raises her hand in a “shoo-shoo” motion. “Go get her, Tiger.”

Ichigo nearly trips over himself on his way out.

She sits there, snickering, and is on her way out of his room herself when she sees him get into the elevator and she just can’t help herself.

“Ichigo!” He jerks his head up in answer, eyes a little wild. She cups her hands around her mouth for the sound to carry.

“You know where the clit is, right?!”

HIs face turns beet red in an instant, and he leans forward just as the doors begin to close.

“Oh my God, Tatsuki, just shut the —”

A ding and a whir ends his speech just as the door closes, and she types a text out to Urakara, grinning ear to ear:

The kids are fine.

—

In the most ideal situation: Ichigo may, for the first time ever, wish he had read more of his sister’s trashy shoujo because he has NO idea what he should say to Rukia.

He got hyped from Tatsuki’s support, and even when he’s screaming at her as the elevator doors close (because yes of course he knows all about that and he knows where Rukia’s… Nevermind) he feels on top of the world, like he’s gonna go get his girl.

And now he’s in front of her hotel room and clearing his throat and muttering and he…

Look. Ichigo. Knows. He does not have a way with words… Improv-wise.

He says the first thing on his mind, and even if it’s clunky or sometimes makes people look at him weird, he’s always been at least proud that it’s what’s on his mind. Any poetic musing is saved for lyric writing, and he’s fine with that.

But being with Rukia is recognizing she deserves more than that.

He can’t just say hey sorry I was an asshole to you over a slight misunderstanding and thanks for singing Joni and literally fulfilling a music-nerd wet dream I never knew I had, wanna bang again? Or well.. He could — but the point is she deserves a full apology, and a whole confession that he loves her, has never met anyone like her and never will and they belong to each other forever.

You know. Easy stuff.

Jesus. He’s been out here for ten minutes, pacing, and he still doesn’t know what he’s going to say. It’s stupid, right? It’s probably so stupid, she might not even take him back. Hell, she might not even be here anymore, she might have already caught an earlier flight and left all their asses behind forever—

He hears the sound of a door opening, and when he looks behind him where he’s paced away from the room — Rukia’s standing there.

What feels like hours go by as the two stare at each other, when in reality it’s probably only a few seconds — and Ichigo realizes they haven’t actually looked at each other, like really taken each other in since the photo shoot. Rukia’s expression is unreadable, but he gulps because

God.

How does she do this to him, every time?

Finally, she pierces the moment by shifting her hips and raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

He blinks. “Um — yeah. Wait. How’d you — How’d you know I was out here?”

“I heard you out here muttering and walking around. Nobody talks to themselves as loud as you do.”

“Oh.” He swears he’s not trying to stall, but he cannot for the life of him remember anything of what he was considering to say.

Rukia clearly knows nothing of the internal screaming he’s doing right now, as she starts to frown a little deeper. “So. Can you actually spit out whatever you were going to say? So I can go to bed and you can never see me again? I’m sure Urahara’s already informed you —”

“Yeah, he did.” Ichigo snaps himself out of it. He might not have a full speech prepared in his arsenal yet, but this is a good way to segue into it. “Seriously, Rukia? You’re just gonna not tell anyone you’re leaving except our manager, and what? Disappear into the night?”

She rears her head back as if she’s been slapped.

Shit. He didn’t know he was still feeling a little angry about that.

“What’re you — of course I’m not going to come to you after everything that’s been happening! You, the one who’s accused me of being selfish and a nightmare to work with? You, who just — just assumed everything about me, but did whatever you wanted just to hurt me?” Her voice cracks at the end and it’s his turn to flinch.

“No. No c’mon, I never wanted to hurt — “

Rukia clears her throat, and her entire body language shifts into something deadly casual as she steps back fully into her hotel room. “And honestly. ‘Disappear into the night.’ Don’t be so dramatic. I’m leaving in the morning.”

“Well yeah I didn’t mean literally —”

“I know you didn’t. It doesn’t matter, Ichigo.” She sighs tiredly as she starts closing the door between them. He panics. “The point is, you don’t have to worry. I won’t be here in the morn—”

Her speech is cut off by her own gasp as Ichigo slams forward his shoulder into the door just as it’s about to shut before he even knows what’s happening.

“Ichigo, what—”

“Ow, okay that didn’t feel great and now I feel like a creep —”

“Well you’re being a creep, so I think it’s only logical that you feel like —”

“Rukia, just please for the love of God just shut up.”

“Excuse — You—you have the gall to slam into my door and tell me — “

“It’s impossible for me to think coherently around you, you know that?!” He knows he looks deranged by the way she’s looking at him, utterly baffled.

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Yeah, actually. I have. All thanks to you. Do you know that I’ve never — when I write, I can usually whip them out so quick. You don’t believe me, because you’ve only ever seen me spend days on a song — but when you’re around, I don’t know what you do but it’s like you’re some fucked up muse that fucks me up.”

She’s pinching her nose, shaking her head. “Ichigo, what are you —”

“You make me better.” He takes her arm firmly but gently, forcing her to look at him. “You make me want to be better, that’s why. That’s why I spend so much goddamn on a single lyric line, for the sole possibility it will make you smile. Otherwise I’m usually stuck sitting here with you without any words in my mouth because you took them all away. You’re so goddamned smart, and wonderful, and so so talented on your own — fuck the word ‘muse.’ You’re your own. Just. Goddess of fucking music or artists or something and I want to worship you.”

She flushes, and maybe even sort of trembles beneath his touch but he’s barely paying attention. “Ichigo —”

“I want to know everything about you. I want to know — I want to know your favorite music to fall asleep to. I want to know what music you listen to when you’re cooking a meal, or cleaning, or in the shower. I want to know what songs you play when you’re incredibly sad, or excited, or the ones you listen to when you want to just feel human, feel connected with everything around you. I want to know all the songs you grew up with, every single one, even the ones you think aren’t technically good but just do something for you. I want to hear every album you ever wished you wrote. Just. The ones that make you scream with jealousy but you can’t stop, you will never stop listening to them. And I want to — I want to know the kind of music you’d like to hear when we kiss. God, I really want to know that one. I want to hear the songs that you’d like to cuddle to, the ones that’ll make you wrap your legs around me like you did that night, the ones you’d like to be made love to to and—”

Ichigo had a lot more to say about what kinds of favorite music he’d like to learn about Rukia, but she’s grabbed him by the back of the head and is kissing him so deeply he forgets everything he was planning to say for the rest of the night.

—-

Their first time that night is a little too, uh. Frenzied for them to really even think about playing music.

But on their second time…

They both find out her favorite for that last category is Buckley’s Hallelujah. His is The Cure’s Lovesong.

“We are officially insufferable,” she pant-whispers to him, grinning wildly beneath him under a bird’s nest of sweaty, tangled hair. He chuckles, equally out of breath, but still leans down to kiss her in agreement.

—

To say their getting together was expected would be an understatement.

For the two of them to actually gather the whole team the next morning and announce the development of their relationship while holding hands and explaining everything that happened like the group didn’t already know was downright excruciating.

As soon as Rukia said she’d like to “open the floor for any questions or concerns,” Tatsuki tapped out.

“I’m leaving. Anyone else wanna get mimosas with me?” The team murmured in agreement and started to get up as Rukia grew increasingly alarmed. Ichigo looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

“W-wait, we have to talk about how this is going to affect our workplace..!”

“Sweetheart, it’s already been affected.” Rukia looks slightly crestfallen and the drummer inwardly curses, feeling bad. “Oh c’mon, don’t do that Rukia. We’re just saying this is nothing.”

“Right, and I really — we are so sorry we put you all through that — “

“Hey don’t include me in that, I never said I was sorry —” Ichigo yelps as his apparently-now-girlfriend elbows him in the ribs.

“Dolt, we put them through hell —”

“Yeah, well, Tatsuki’s been putting me through hell since I was seven years old so I think it’s only fair —”

“Excuse me, you wouldn’t have even found the love of your life there had I not stepped in and —”

“I think the point Tatsuki’s making is we’re happy for you, Ichigo. Kuchiki-san.” Chad’s deep baritone makes them all jump and look to the man closest to the door out. “Regardless of what happens with the two of you — we’re still us. Nothing has to change if we don��t want it to.”

They all stare and Urahara whistles.

“And that, Sado-san, is why you’re my favorite and receiving the majority of next album’s sales.”

A chorus of grumbles and whines arose in the group so loud Tatsuki had to shout to restore order.

“All right, Orihime and I are headed to that breakfast place on the corner. Everyone — except Urahara — is welcome to join us.”

“Aww no fair, Tatsuki-chan, you know you’re still my second in command —”

“Don’t call me that. IchiRuki, you coming?”

“I’m sorry… Was that referring to us?”

“Your new stage name together. Since all the sexual tension is being, you know. Expressed now, ya’ll need a couple’s name.”

“Please don’t say that word or that last sentence ever again… But yeah, we’re coming. Rukia needs to grab something from the room and then we’ll head over.”

“Oh I bet she’ll be grabbing something, all right.”

“Tatsuki, please!”

“Ohoho, lovely comeback Second-in-Command!”

“I told you not to call me that!”

“Everyone in this room but me and Rukia can rot in absolute hell.”

—-

The Night the Lights Went Out in Osaka ends up becoming an iconic piece of indie music history when newspapers write about it and video footage of some of the performance is leaked. Their second album triples in profit compared to their first, and soon enough all of them are getting occasionally recognized in the streets.

It’s not selling-out-stadiums-big (yet) — but their rising success makes them excited for the future, absolutely blissful that they can all now afford their rents without working some lame side job during the day. They even get to hire a more professional sound designer for some of their stuff — Rukia’s friend Renji, who is now considered zero threat to Ichigo and therefore taken onto the team with (grudgingly) open arms.

Rukia leaves the band around a year later.

All of them knew it was nothing personal — but Tatsuki may-or-may-not sniffle when she announces the leave, telling everyone in a deep bow and a watery voice that this has been the absolute best time of her life. That she will always consider the band home, but she’s got other dreams she’s ready to focus on — dreams like applying for top grad music programs, or releasing her own album one day of just her and her piano.

Ichigo says nothing beside her, his hand on the small of her back.

But from the softness in his gaze, the slight lift of his smile — Tatsuki knows he is so, so proud of her.

It’s not the end, anyway. Hardly. Tatsuki reminds herself that she will literally see Rukia nearly every day she sees Ichigo, which is — a lot, because the band is still rising in success, with or without their female vocalist. Ichigo and Chad are scribbling as many lyrics together as ever, always asking for both Tatsuki and Rukia’s input and Tatsuki knows this will never end, not really.

She loves that.

She loves that she gets to cuddle with Orihime after a long night in rehearsal or concert or whatever, doing what they both love together. She loves that Urahara’s offered to involve her more in management matters — not giving sole responsibility, but recognizing her talent in bringing the team together and demanding what they deserve. She loves that Chad is finally able to adopt the dog he always wanted but never could afford and brings Yuichi to every rehearsal as their team mascot.

And don’t let either of them know it, but Tatsuki loves to go to Ichigo and Rukia’s apartment on any given Thursday — the day they usually host a dinner for everyone — and open the door to the two of them bickering, supper bubbling softly on the stove as they argue over what album to play. It never really matters — because the night ends with all of them on the living room floor, half drunk and screaming lyrics to favorite songs while Rukia snuggles deeper into Ichigo’s lap, laughing as he not-so-subtly kisses the top of her head.

Their lives are so fucking cute.

Tatsuki's rock-n’-roll heart wants to hurl — but love’s pretty metal too, she guesses.

#ichiruki #my stuff #bleach #do it for the band #fanfiction

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