Rukia scoffs, her laughter echoing so loudly that a few more heads are turned. It was almost as if she was listening to a funny joke, but the matter of fact was that there wasn’t anything worse in this world than the thought of cleaning up children’s vomit. It was the image of Ichigo cleaning it up that made her chuckle so loudly.
He didn’t seem like the cleaning type. “You’re right, there’s nothing glamorous about cleaning children’s vomit from the floor, at least I can make a cool story up to tell people. Instead of it just being “because of a dog”.” Whilst she spoke, rukia raises her free hand and makes quotations around her sentence.
The shift in conversation again switches her focus, going out sounded like a good plan. But it was such short notice, as Ichigo had mentioned, to get any of their friends to join them. Trying to arrange a night out was like trying to plan a meeting with world leaders, and even then; that was easier. Her unharmed hand taps her chin as she ponders the idea. The young student supposed they were more lenient when it came to such occasions.
“It sounds like a good idea, maybe we could get them to meet us there at around 7 o’clock,” her eyes stay focused on the bandage that he finished. It looked impressive, compared to the first time he had practised on her when starting med school. “—then I can show them all my battle scar!”
Ichigo scowled at her laughing, knowing exactly why she was. “...You’re such an ass sometimes, why do I help you out again?” he muttered under his breath, leaning away from her once he was done bandaging up her hand. “Yeah, well, I’ll just tell people you got bit by a vicious pomeranian or something; a little puffball of a dog was too much for the great Rukia to handle.”
He probably wouldn’t. Rumors and stuff like that weren’t really something he was good at, nor the sort of thing he even liked or cared to bother with in the first place.
As soon as Rukia mentioned a time, Ichigo was already on his phone, messaging everyone.
“How about not. It’s not even a scar yet!” he scoffed, pocketing his phone once again. It was still the middle of the day, so most everyone likely wouldn’t get back to him yet -- except for maybe Orihime, she always seemed to reply to anything of his a second or two after he sent something.
There’d likely be enough puking tonight without the Queen of Gore showing off her injury to everyone.
“Besides, isn’t there some mystery to a bandaged wound?” he put out, cleaning up the supplies he’d used and any stray blood that had managed to get anywhere.
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