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his had to stop, Ichigo thought as he caught himself nodding off in class for the third time that day. He hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in nearly a week, and it was beginning to take a toll on him. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t see straight, and now he was falling asleep in the middle of class. Something had to change.


He didn’t know how Rukia managed to look as calm and well rested as she did; he knew she wasn’t getting any more sleep than he was. Maybe he would just tell her. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? “Rukia, I need a break. I’m about to keel over from exhaustion.” Even Rukia would get something like that. Right? Yes. She’d have to. So that was that, he would just talk to her about it after dinner, and they would work something out. Something so he could get some sleep.

Unfortunately, any plans Ichigo had made for getting sleep that night flew out the window when Rukia passed him a note describing, in painfully exquisite detail, all of the new and dirty things she intended to do him as soon as they were alone and naked and in his bed.

Yep, Ichigo thought to himself, Rukia was going to be the death of him.

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