Ichigo's Closet

"Are you decent?" It was Rukia's voice, muffled slightly by the closet door.

Ichigo zipped his pants. "Yeah." Like you care, he added silently.

"Then I'm coming out of the closet now." She opened the door and froze at the sight of his expression. "What the fuck's with that face?"

"You're coming out of the closet, eh?"

Rukia looked behind her at the closet, to her hand on the door, and back to Ichigo with a blank expression. "I'd say, actually, I just came out."

"I'll have to tell Chizuru. She'll be ecstatic."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He told her.

"Oh." She seemed to ponder this. "Well, that wouldn't be entirely inaccurate."

"I guess it wouldn't - what?" He stared at her as she picked her school bag up from the closet and headed for his window.

She slung both legs out, starting to squirm her way down, foot groping for the downspout so she could slide down, then paused. "...but I fail to see what that has to do with a closet."