Just a Kiss.

Summary: " You shy boy! I knew you were inexperienced, but I didn't think you were that inexperienced. What gives? Who is this special girl?"

Chapter one.

" Hey, Ichigo!" Urahara called out, lifting his head out of the Styrofoam filled box. Spitting one out, he shook his head like a dog just out of water. He was trying to get the couple of the s shaped, light, plastic material off his hat, which stubbornly clung to the brim because of the lingering charges of static.

The disgruntled teen dragged his feet on the asphalt, kicking a small rock out of his way as he continued to head grudgingly towards the one who called. He really didn't want to do this, but something inside of him made him feel, in a small way, obligated to. Of course, everyone knew he hated losing.

Urahara stared curiously at Ichigo in the quickly dimming sunlight; he hadn't even noticed the time fly by. Ichigo's face, which was normally permanently fixed in a frown, was now was twisted into a peculiar sort of grimace; worry, apprehension and the likes were all shining through in equal parts. He smiled kindly as Ichigo stuffed his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground, avoiding Urahara's piercing gaze.

" So you just dropped by the say hi or what?" smirked the store owner, taking his hat off his head and wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow. He paused to stare at him for a whole minute before speaking again; he was sure Ichigo wasn't going to delve into a conversation unless he was forced to. " Well then, if you don't have anything to say, you'd better go. I'm a busy man."

Ichigo still did not speak. Which was odd; though he was usually the quiet and withdrawn type of guy, he was seldom seen so nervous and fidgety.

" Cat got your tongue, Ichigo?"

Ichigo shook his head, his rich orange colored hair flashed as it caught the suns rays; a red flush crept slowly up his face. " Well, speaking of cats," he said quietly and hesitantly, " Is… is er… Y-Yoru-Yoruichi-san around?"

Urahara inclined his head, jamming his hat back onto his head and straightened with frightening speed. " Curiosity killed the cat," he said smoothly, turning around to look back at Ichigo; his eyes forever hidden beneath the shadow of his hat's brim. " So, do you mind if I ask why you wish to see Yoruichi?"

Ichigo glared back at him, his face turning a deeper shade of red. " None of your business," he muttered sullenly.

Urahara shrugged dismissively and then noticed a piece of Styrofoam still clinging to his lapel. He stared at it for a moment; as if he couldn't understand why it was still there, then he brushed it up with one fluid movement. Sliding open the door, " Just thought I'd ask," he said calmly, beckoning Ichigo to follow him in.

After traveling down several flights of stairs that Ichigo had never seen before (in fact, he could have sworn Urahara's shop was only one level), they came to a stop at the only door in the dimly lit hallway.

Loud music echoed down the vacant passage, rebounding against the walls and blasting into their ears, swallowing the unusually loud sounds of their feet hitting the varnished hard-wood floor. Urahara grinned cheekily at Ichigo before knocking heavily on the door three times.

They waited in silence, gazing apprehensively at the door and waiting for Yoruichi (who was supposedly on the other side) to open it. Well, they were as silent as silence could be with the blaring music coming from the room in question. They heard a loud bang, as something heavy hit the floor; the whole building trembled.

There was a click, the music stopped and footsteps drawing inexorably closer to them. Ichigo held his breath; there was no turning back now.

" Come in!"

Urahara smiled gaily and twisted the doorknob; opening the door with a flourish and hustled Ichigo in.

As soon as Ichigo caught sight of Yoruichi's attire, he averted his gaze quickly to the ground. The color of his visage was now that of a very ripe tomato. He sort of wished that he could just sink into the floor and disappear.

Yoruichi kicked aside the pile of assorted dumbbells. " Ichigo!" she exclaimed, looking faintly surprised. " Is something wrong?" she inquired, taking in his hunched posture and his odd avoidance of eye contact; his gaze seemed to be determinately and firmly fixed upon the floor.

Yoruichi turned to Urahara, a questioning look in her golden eyes as Ichigo stayed obstinately silent.

Urahara shrugged nonchalantly.

She waited patiently, planting her hands on her waist; fully aware that he was intimidated by her lack of clothing. But surely he didn't expect her to cover up just because he was here right?

After a near eternity of silence, Ichigo finally stammered out, " Can I ask you for a favor, Yoruichi-san?"

Yoruichi cocked her head arrogantly, a mysterious twinkle in her eye. " What's gotten into you? It's not like you to be so… so… nervous." She watched him carefully, hoping that he would look at her; but he seemed to be afraid. Which was quite ironic; the boy had defeated nearly the whole of Soul Society, the leader of the Bounts and countless other enemies, never once showing any fear or apprehension. So she couldn't help but wonder what he was going to ask. " But yeah, sure. What do you need?"

Ichigo mumbled something incoherent, his shoulders now hunched so much that he looked like a turtle trying futilely to draw it's head into its shell.

" Sorry," said Yoruichi, leaning closer. " I didn't catch that."

Ichigo took a deep breath and then closed his eyes; his lips moved soundlessly as if he were praying.

" I… can you… give me… well… teach me… how… t-to ki-kiss?" he stammered, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers.

" You shy boy," Yoruichi teased, " I knew you were inexperienced, but I didn't think you were that inexperienced. What gives?"

" Well, can you?" demanded Ichigo, half exasperated, half desperate; he tried to ignore her comments. But they were painfully true. And he was less than nothing in this sort of battle of wills.

" Why not?" she said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. She grinned at her best friend. " You know, Urahara's a great kisser. I would normally just let him do all the work, but it'd be kind of awkward, don't you think?" Yoruichi smiled, turning around to pick up her towel and slung it around her neck lackadaisically.

Ichigo sighed with relief and tried to keep his eyes from straying towards her; which was a feat he has yet to accomplish. Then again, she was wearing rather skimpy clothing or not really (it consisted of a black bra and 'joe boxer' pajama pants which Ichigo was certain that it didn't belong to her)… but either way, the blame was unjustified. She was exercising. Since when did someone bundle up to sweat?

" So who is this special girl?" asked Yoruichi, uncapping her water bottle to chug down its contents; in a rather unladylike manner. It looked as if more than half the bottle's contents missed her mouth.

Ichigo eyed her warily as some of the water dripped down her chin and trickled down her bare chest; which she promptly wiped away with the back of her hand, thoroughly spreading the pearly, clear droplets of liquid across her flawless, tanned skin. She then tossed aside the empty container and smiled beguilingly at Ichigo. " You're not going to tell me are you?"

He shook his head.

" That's fine," she said brightly, " So how about tomorrow? I'll be there at your place at around midnight."

" Er…"

" Okay, it's a date, then!"