Characters: Ichigo Kurosaki and anyone who hasn't passed out yet
Content: Someone's had a bit to drink, and is having trouble locating his room. Come troll the hell out of him help him out TROLL HIM
Setting: All over the Convoy
Time: Late Amicus night, after the most somber party ever
Warnings: Language, moodswings (possibly to the dere side of
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Watanuki had to laugh. "Well, this is a weird time for you to start caring about cleaning!" he declared, perhaps louder than strictly necessary but clearly enough.
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He slammed the door shut and folded his arms indignantly. "It's not that," Ichigo said, and immediately realized his mistake. If it wasn't cleaning, he'd have to admit that he was lost. On a ship he'd been on for months.
Whoops.
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He folded his arms again in a very decisive manner.
"What do you have to say to that, huh?"
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"I wouldn't haul you back to your cabin if you asked!" he cried. "When was that ever a point!?" He took a step closer, the better to intensify the force of his glare. "I don't care if you spend all night wandering aimlessly around! For all I care, you can-- you can sleep out on the deck! Or in the crow's nest! Or under a table! It's your own fault for getting so drunk you lost your own room! I don't care!"
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And he would do it by himself. Alone. Without help. Even if it took all night. Because, though he had obviously drunk more alcohol than Watanuki, Ichigo was clearly much more sober and could definitely find his own way back.
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He threw his arms in the air once more, because this would definitely help further his point. "See?! This just proves that you are drunk beyond even your normal level of stupidity!"
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"We could split up," Ichigo suggested. "Then I wouldn't be cheating by following you, but you'd still see that I'd found my way back."
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