Ichigo stared at Renji. A year and a half of change was nearly too much to take in. That idiot pinapple shirt. The new hairstyle, intricately braided, mostly the same brilliant scarlet, shockingly gray at the temples. The ropy tattoos that now twisted across his cheekbones, stained his lips, false fangs and flames that made him seem more a demon than the captain he was.
Ichigo stared at Renji, forcing himself to take in these radically different details, forcing himself to change the way he saw the world, so he could construct a new reality around what Renji had just said.
Rukia died over a year ago on a simple recon mission. Renji just found out no one had let Ichigo know.
Ichigo stared through Renji. An eternity of being alone looked back at him, smiling with violet eyes.