Ichigo didn't seem to share Keigo's morose opinion of the season. Even if he wasn't exactly a cheerful fellow, being cooped up in a blizzard didn't seem to upset him. After all, the worst it had done was prevented them from working. He'd already checked in with Yuzu and made sure she and Karin were safe and that the only trial they had to endure was their old man's usual raving. He'd persuaded the cat to show herself so that Keigo didn't have a heart attack. And he'd checked on their friends, albeit via text message, but he'd checked. There was no looming threat, and no one in need of saving. As commonplace as it had become recently, that detail had left Ichigo at relative ease with his life. A little snowstorm certainly couldn't rile him up.

Spotting Keigo sulking in font of daytime soap operas on the couch wasn't exactly new either. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched around to the other side of the couch. He didn't even pause or ask Keigo to move his feet before sitting.

"Oi, stop scowling. You're stealing my image," he grouched, swatting idly at Keigo's knees.