First Time[18+]

Up on the second floor of the Kuchiki manor, behind a finely crafted wooden screen and delicate curtains, Rukia stood with her arms folded, peering down at the courtyard through a small gap. Her violet eyes were sharp, focused solely on the two figures sitting close together on the bench below.

Orihime was laughing softly, her cheeks flushed pink, and Ichigo—he looked completely relaxed, a genuine smile on his face as he chatted with her. They looked so… natural together. Comfortable. Almost too comfortable.

Rukia clicked her tongue lightly. "Tch… they're just eating fruit," she muttered under her breath. But her grip on the windowsill tightened ever so slightly. 'What's so funny? And why does she keep blushing? It's just Ichigo… idiot.'

She watched as Orihime tilted her head dreamily at him, and Ichigo turned toward her with that cocky smirk of his. Rukia's eye twitched. 'Ugh. That stupid smile. He never smiles like that at me...'

Then, as if sensing her gaze, Ichigo subtly turned his head—his orange hair catching the light—eyes flicking up toward the window. Rukia's heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

Their eyes met.

Ichigo raised one eyebrow, smirking… and winked.

Rukia gasped, quickly stumbling back from the window like she'd just been caught stealing. Her face lit up redder than a tomato. "W-What the hell was that?!" she hissed, pressing her back to the wall.

She clutched her chest, her heart pounding wildly as her face burned. 'He knew I was watching?! Damn it! I wasn't… I wasn't spying! I just—just happened to pass by the window!'

But despite her flustered state, she couldn't stop the small smile forming on her lips.

'Stupid Ichigo…'

.....

[ Many hours later ]

The moon hung high over the Seireitei, casting a pale, gentle glow over the quiet walls of the Kuchiki manor. Crickets chirped softly in the distance, and a cool breeze rustled through the neatly trimmed gardens. Most of the manor was asleep, but behind a certain paper sliding door, a girl sat wide awake.

Rukia stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Her hair was brushed neatly, and she'd changed into a soft, sleeveless white yukata embroidered with subtle sakura patterns—something simple, but elegant. Her hands fidgeted with the sash as her heart thumped against her chest.

Knock knock.

She froze.

There it was. That knock. Right on time.

Rukia took a deep breath and walked over, trying to keep herself composed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid the door open.

Ichigo stood there under the silver moonlight, dressed in a black robe that looked more refined than his usual Shihakushō. His eyes lifted to meet hers, a soft smirk playing on his lips as his gaze slowly trailed down then back up.

"You look… beautiful," he said.

Rukia turned her face away to hide the growing blush. "Tch. You're late," she muttered.

He chuckled. "By two minutes?"

She stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. "Still late," she whispered, half annoyed, half nervous.

Ichigo walked in, and as the door slid shut behind them, the silence in the room thickened slightly—but not in a bad way. The kind of silence that made every glance, every breath, every heartbeat feel heavier. More meaningful.

He took a seat near her low table, his eyes never leaving her. "You sure about tonight?" he asked gently. "I meant it when I said I'd wait."

Rukia looked at him, her fingers tightening just slightly around the fabric of her sash. "I'm sure," she said, stepping closer. "I want this… with you."

Ichigo smiled, reaching out and gently taking her hand in his. "Then let's take it slow. Just us, Rukia."

The candlelight flickered gently as they drew closer, the night outside a quiet witness to the moment they were about to share—not as warriors, not as Shinigami—but simply as two people finally crossing the line between hidden feelings and something more intimate.

Rukia's breath hitched as Ichigo slowly pulled her into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. His warmth pressed against her, grounding her, making her heart pound louder in her chest. She looked up at him, eyes wide and shimmering with nervous energy—but also anticipation.

Ichigo cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across her soft skin. "If it ever feels too much, tell me to stop."

She nodded, placing her hand over his. "You won't have to."

Their lips met again, this time deeper, slower—no teasing, no hesitation. Rukia melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with everything she'd been holding in. Every glance they'd shared, every time she'd lied to herself about how she felt—it was all pouring into this moment.

Ichigo's hands wandered delicately down her back, pulling her closer as their bodies pressed together. He could feel her curves through the thin fabric of her yukata, and she felt the lean strength beneath his robe. She gasped softly as his lips left hers and traveled to her neck, planting slow kisses up to her jawline, then down to her collarbone.

Her fingers clutched his shoulders tightly. "Ichigo…" she breathed.

He gently untied the sash around her waist, eyes locked on hers the entire time. "Beautiful," he whispered as the yukata slipped slightly off her shoulders, revealing smooth, pale skin and a body sculpted by discipline but untouched by affection—until now.

Rukia blushed deeply, instinctively moving to cover herself, but Ichigo caught her wrists with a soft grip. "Don't hide. You're perfect."

He kissed her again, tender but hungry, his hands now exploring the softness of her sides, the curve of her waist. She trembled slightly beneath his touch, but didn't pull away. Her own hands began to move too, sliding under his robe, running over the defined lines of his chest and abs, tracing the life he'd built through countless battles.

Their breathing grew heavier as the last layers between them slipped away. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth.

Ichigo laid her gently down onto the futon, hovering over her. His eyes searched hers one last time for doubt—but all he found was trust, affection, and yearning.

"Are you ready?" he asked, voice low and breathy.

Rukia nodded, her voice soft but certain. "Yes."

Then—

TO BE CONTINUED

[A/N: MUHAHAHAHHAHAH. Also I'm cooking on the Patreon. Ichigo banging Yoruichi now. 😏]