“He gave all his supper to Rukia,” Loki informed his foster father.
Poking through a patient’s medical records on the hunt for potential drug interactions, Isshin gave him a “Hmm.”
Restocking some of their smaller bandages – why did the tiny ones always vanish first? – Loki tried not to roll his eyes. “He barely ate breakfast.”
Loki had long ago come to the conclusion that goofy maniac or not, Isshin was a better father than half of Asgard. But sometimes even he needed the obvious pointed out to him. “Isshin. He almost yelled at Yuzu!”
That got a blink, then a slow, rueful grin. “You’re right. I ought to tell them. Karin! Yuzu!”
“Homework first!” Karin yelled back from upstairs. “Clinic duty later!”
“It’s about your delinquent brother!”
Silence. Then pattering feet.
“Ichigo has never been a delinquent,” Loki said firmly.
“Tell that to Karakura General,” Isshin quipped. “They’ve still got a ward with his name on it.”
Which wasn’t at all fair, Loki thought. Chad, Uryuu, and even Tatsuki had been responsible for almost as many battered gang members between them. And unofficially blaming Ichigo for every act of youkai malice in Karakura was worse than unfair.
Some things never change. In Asgard, you were the outsider. Here, Ichigo is the nail that sticks up.
And broke the hammers, often as not. Ichigo might never be a natural trickster, but he’d taken his lessons in pranking to heart. Anyone sneering at Yuzu because of her “barbarian hair” generally found their shirts an unholy mix of neon orange and chartreuse. Or homework impossibly redone in glitter ink, naughty Shakespearean insults interspersed with the equations. Or – one time still near and dear to Loki’s heart – the Man-Bat Kite Flagpole Incident.
I’ll have to see if that young idiot Ushio is out of therapy yet, Loki mused. He’s still Ichigo and Uryuu’s record.