Some Artistic Nudity

Theme #15, Painting a picture

A very tired, disoriented Ichigo woke up, shifted around to get comfortable, and was hit over the head with a slipper.

"Hold still," Karin instructed, a faint crossness to her voice. "I'm drawing you."

Ichigo blinked and twisted to see over his shoulder. Sure enough, Karin had set a chair next to the bed and was sitting there, sketchbook and pencil in hand. His first thought was, I didn't know she could draw. His second thought was, she's drawing me. And I'm naked. He shot upright, reaching out to try to take the sketchbook from her.

"Hey!" she shouted, backing up.

"Karin, if dad sees that, you'll be in so much trouble! Give it to me right now."

"No!" She tucked the book into the waistband of her shorts.

"Damn it," Ichigo muttered, putting a hand to his forehead. "Next time I'm going to leave as soon as you fall asleep. Who knows what you do to me while I'm laying there defenseless."

The girl frowned. "Nothing you wouldn't like."

"I don't like my little sister rendering my manhood in graphite for anyone who stumbles across her notepad to see!" howled Ichigo, clutching the sheets up around his midsection as the full realization of his utter nudity sank in. "And I don't like being watched while I – while I sleep! Naked or otherwise!"

"What's your problem? You're good-looking," Karin said clinically. Ichigo thought he heard a certain female shinigami's studied, slightly mocking indifference in her tone. "It would be one thing if you were fat or really hairy or had something to be embarrassed about. But you don't. So there's no problem, right?" She gestured with the pencil as she spoke, pointing to Ichigo's sheet-clad crotch on the words 'good-looking' and 'no problem'.

Ichigo flushed a red that clashed violently with his hair. "Yes, there is a problem! This is clearly a violation of my trust! And my dignity," he added lamely.

"You don't have to be shy about it," argued Karin. "It's not like you're small or anything."


That one had taken Ichigo completely off-guard. He looked down, as though what she had just said was in a foreign language and the sheet would translate for him. Then he blinked up at Karin. He stuttered for a few moments, then repeated himself.

"What? How do you – ? You – you haven't seen any other guys' – ah – you know! …Have you? Oh, god!" He rubbed violently at his eyes, making a low keening sound.

"No, but I've seen pictures," Karin replied archly.

"God…" With a great hunch of his shoulders like the wind going out of a full sail, Ichigo sank down onto the bed. This was the single most horrifying moment in his life. His life, which was as of this moment over. Ruined. Continued existence was pointless. His sister had just made a very informed, dispassionate comparison of his penis. With what she presumably saw in textbooks and internet porn.

"Oh, get over it! I said you weren't small, didn't I?"

"I don't know if that's better or worse," moaned Ichigo, shaking his head.

"Trust me, it's good," Karin responded quickly. Ichigo resisted the urge to sob like a baby. "Do you want to see the picture? I think it's pretty accurate. I'm gonna put it on my wall."

He stared at her in horror.

"Just kidding. Duh."

"…All right. Sure. If you promise never, ever to let anyone else see it."

"Okay." Karin climbed onto the bed, leaning across Ichigo's legs to push the sketchbook under his nose.

There was a moment where Ichigo sat motionless, utterly transfixed by what he saw on the page in front of him. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. He couldn't even breathe (though that might have been because Karin was leaning her elbow into his stomach). And then Karin broke the spell, saying pointedly,

"It looks just like you, huh?" In that moment, one thing was very, very clear.

Rukia had taught Karin how to draw.

Among other things.