#Ichigo doesn't give two shits about clothes either

[rainingskyguy]

A yukata

Name: Kurosaki Ichigo.

Age: 15 years old.

Hair: Orange.

Eyes: Brown.

Occupation: High school student.

Special Skill:

Being the best big brother in town.

“Good morning,” Ichigo yawned as he entered the kitchen already dressed up for school. He was up decently early because he had been having really long days at school and he wouldn’t admit it but he missed talking to his sisters, even if it had only been a week.

“Ah, onii-chan! Good morning! You’re up early!” As always, Yuzu was already there, preparing everyone’s lunchboxes and was just getting started on breakfast. Nowadays Karin sometimes helped her with it, but her twin was probably still fast asleep at the moment.

Ichigo glanced at their wall clock. Well, he was up early. He was no cook, but he could lend her a hand. He dropped his bag on the dining table, rolling his sleeves as he set the rice cooker and finished washing the vegetables he grabbed off the counter. Yuzu looked at him, a knowing smile on her face but allowed him to help without protest.

“How have you and Karin been? Everything alright? Anyone you want me to bash their head in?” Ichigo said casually, giving her the washed vegetables so she could chop them faster.

“Of course no! Karin and I have been fine, for your information.” Yuzu replied, giving him a look. Ichigo huffed, raising his hands in mock-surrender.

“And what about your club-thing? I remember you were having trouble with some piece a while back.” Ichigo said, grabbing plates and setting the table as Yuzu finished cutting and turned on the stove. She was silent for a moment, enough for Ichigo to finish and stare at her. “Yuzu?”

She jumped in place. “Ah, no, it’s nothing. I finished the dress, although Karin says she won’t show it to you, because she’s embarrassed – oh but she looks so cute, you’re really missing on it!” His little sister giggled softly, as she tossed the vegetables in and let them simmer.

“Is that so?” Ichigo said, staring at her intently. “I’ll have to take your word for it, then. And? Is there anything worrying you?”

“Hm, not in particular.”

“Really?” Ichigo insisted, as he poured himself a glass of water, taking the chance to squint dubiously at the nervous girl. “If I recall correctly you were fretting about a final evaluation for the cultural festival.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

Silence. Yuzu deflated, conceding defeat. “Yes, our teacher wants us to make a yukata for adults. And I don’t have anyone to be my model for it. Besides, we’re supposed to show them off at the festival.” Yuzu frowned down at her stove. “And like everyone’s doing one for their mom, or their older sister and Karin’s too young for what my stupid teacher wants.” She added with surprising candor, jutting her lower lip out.

Ichigo just blinked at her, confused. “Hey why not just use me, then? I can model for you.”

Yuzu turned to him so sharply he was mildly worried for whiplash but his sister didn’t seem to notice. “Would you really do that for me? Would it be okay? Are you okay with it?”

“Geez, calm down. It’s just clothes, right? I can do it.” Ichigo said, with a shrug. “Although if you want me to wear it to the festival you’d have to do a pretty damn good job.”

The youngest Kurosaki squealed in glee as she launched herself at Ichigo, “Thank you, thank you so much, onii-chan!”

Ichigo retuned the embrace. “Anytime.”

   Ichigo would have expected that to have solved everything but Yuzu came home one day, stomping her way to her room, yelling that her handicrafts teacher was stupid, that the club was stupid and she didn’t want to have anything to do with them.

Karin, with all of her pre-teen wisdom –aka none– looked at Ichigo with saucer-like eyes, worried and unsure of what to do.

With a sigh, the teen ruffled her hair and headed for his sisters’ room.

He knocked on the locked door. “Hey, Yuzu? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” She replied in a completely normal voice. 

Teenagers, man. Ichigo shook his head.

“Uh, maybe because you came here really annoyed, kinda loud and now you won’t open your door for me?”

Silence.

He could hear a shy shuffling of feet and soon enough she had opened the door, looking embarrassed. “Was I really loud?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes and forced his way inside. He led her to her bed and sat down next to her.

“Yuzu,” he began. “Did something happen?”

“No,” she said immediately then bit her lip and rephrased. “Well, I mean, It’s not a problem exactly. Nothing you have to worry about.”

“Is it about the yukata? Is it because I look like a delinquent?”

“No… the teacher doesn’t want to let me do a male yukata. She insists it has to be all females, which is just stupid! And I already troubled you with being my model and now I’m back to square one with no model and no time to look for anyone.”

“Yuzu what are you talking about? I can still be your model. Male yukata, female yukata.” Ichigo shrugged. “Same difference. It’s just clothes, honestly. I don’t mind.”

Yuzu stared at him as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then a grin broke her face and she launched at him again, squealing her thanks.

Ichigo smiled back.

  It is now time for the cultural festival and although Ichigo believes in Yuzu 100%, he can’t help but be nervous as he hadn’t had the chance to try the new garment on until the day itself.

He woke up one day with someone incessantly pounding on his poor door. When he opened it he was unsurprised to see a sleep-deprived Yuzu shoving a lengthy piece of garment at him, ordering him to try it on immediately.

Ichigo had a bit of trouble convincing his sister that he could change alone, but in the end he ended up shouting questions through the door because why were female yukatas so weird. He finally gave up when it came to the obi and Yuzu happily looped it around him, and helped adjust the meters of fabric so it looked like Ichigo actually meant to go outside with it.

“The pattern’s really nice. Did you choose it?” Ichigo asked, looking at his reflection on the full-body mirror Yuzu had in her room. The yukata was a pretty standard one, with the white undergarment on top of his undershirt and shorts, peeking shyly at the neck– and best of all, pretty damn comfortable. Over it was the yukata itself, a dark velvety blue patterned with hundreds of small eight-petal flowers that looked as if they had been caught falling down his shoulders. It was all secured in place by the biggest obi he’d ever seen– a bright salmon pink, that matched the falling flowers perfectly and for once didn’t clash with his hair.

“Yes, I did!” Yuzu exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do.” He looked behind himself at huffed a laugh at the big bow on his back, making him feel like a present wrapped in flowers and an obi for a ribbon. “Hey,” he called to a nervous Yuzu who flinched –as if expecting him to rebuff her or something. “Can we think of this as an early birthday gift for you? I’m already wrapped and everything.”

The smile that split her face was worth all the puzzling through never-ending fabric.

Yuzu herself had donned a pink yukata she had made last month– it was made of a much simpler, cheaper fabric with only a checkered salmon pattern on the hem. It had been her first try, so she hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of money on something she wasn’t sure would be fruitful but she had done a splendid job (which required a lot of Ishida pestering, Ichigo would know; he had gotten an earful at school). She had adorned her hair with a strawberry trinket that Ichigo couldn’t help but squint at.

To confirm his suspicions, she had smiled impishly before hurrying to get their lunches packed as Ichigo went for his sandals.

 “What’s the verdict?” Ichigo deadpanned as Karin finally looked up from her videogame, Ichigo lazing around in the living room by her side as Yuzu fretted about making a dessert for the after event.

His other sister checked him out, her eyebrows high before returning to her portable console. “I always knew you were a pretty boy. You look good.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Ichigo laughed, twisting his head over the back of the couch to peer into the kitchen. “What say you, dearest Yuzu?”

The girl bounced into the room, a triumphant look on her. “Of course you look gorgeous! And I’m all done! Let’s go before it’s late!”

“Aye, boss.”

  On their way to Yuzu’s school it was almost cliché when they bumped into a couple of delinquents spraying the side of a home as if that was remotely important. Ichigo made sure Yuzu stayed behind him as he called them out,

“Hey, you two bumbling morons. Don’t you have anything better to do?” The hooligans turned to look at him and promptly burst out laughing.

“Or what, flower-boy? You’ll serve us tea? Oh I’m so- “The first hooligan went down with a punch to the face and his partner had no time to run as Ichigo used that same momentum to slide and trip him up –letting him face-plant into the ground.

Ichigo then readjusted his yukata and kept on walking undeterred as Yuzu rushed to be his side as the delinquents groaned on the floor.

“So pretty…” One of them muttered, wiping the blood off his nose. His friend grumbled but didn’t disagree with him.

   In the end, the event was a success. Ichigo would have expected to need to hit more people who dared mock Yuzu’s amazing work, but most of them had been too busy admiring the yukata and the few that weren’t were successfully cowed by his intense glare.

Ichigo had to strut around a lot, letting people ogle him and call him weird things like “pretty” and “beauty” but Yuzu made up for it by giving him chocolate cookies during his break and letting him leave before the after party so he could go home and sleep in. On his way out, Ichigo had ruffled her hair, the sleeve of the kimono making the movement that much more grand. “Nice work, kiddo.”

Yuzu had smiled like a blinding sun. “You are the best, Onii-chan.”