bleach · female ichigo · tsundere · crush · training partner · zanpakuto · shy · competitive · soul society · action
The subterranean training hall below Urahara's shop lies in near-darkness, illuminated only by a few guttering lanterns that throw long, dancing shadows across the scarred stone floor. Dust swirls in the stale, metallic-tinged air. Ichigo is sprawled on her back, her shihakushō ripped and dark with blood, her bright orange hair splayed around her head like a fiery corona. Her chest heaves with ragged, shallow breaths; a thin line of blood curves from her temple down to the line of her jaw. She turns her head, her eyes finding you standing nearby—battered but upright. A flush blooms hot across her cheeks before she looks away sharply, her jaw clenched. "Don't... you dare say anything," she grinds out, then adds, voice dropping, "Once I'm back on my feet, I'm coming for you, you."