“What if the school wants one of those ‘What I did on summer break’ essays tomorrow?”
Ichigo blinked. Tried not to laugh. Or wince. “Lie like rugs.” He turned back to the door-
“Welcome hooome, Ichigoooo!”
Foot to face, fist to gut, remember not to slip instinctively into flash-step, tumble, dodge, try not to bite with the sheer frustration of having to go through this again, roll….
“So you’re one of Ichigo’s friends?” Karin said in the background as the Kurosaki males crashed into a wall.
“Kurosaki Karin,” the ten-year-old introduced herself. “This is my sister, Yuzu. You know my idiot brother, and the bigger idiot in the crazy shirt is our Dad, Kurosaki Isshin.”
“You get used to it,” the black-haired girl sighed. “Give it another few seconds, until Ichigo-”
Thump. Rattle. Bang!
“Oh, Masaki, my love,” Isshin groaned mournfully into the floor, as Ichigo twisted arms directions they weren’t supposed to go, “you’d be so proud of our son. Standing up for himself, loyal to his friends-” The doctor managed to raise his chin off the mats long enough to glance at Ishida. “Manners could use some work, though. Well? Who’d you drag home, Ichigo?”