disclaimer: bleach isn't mine.

innocent guilt

one

So. Exile.

Fun stuff.

There are many ways in which Hitsugaya Toushirou could decide to spend his condemned eternity, lest he dies. Again.

He could be a good shinigami and righteously kill Hollows.

He could.

Instead, he takes a drink. One. Then two. Then three.

… it does not end there.

two

Waking up to a clutter of mess is never a good sight. Waking up this way for a hundred years is never a good thing.

By now he wonders if waking up at all is any consolation for the damned.

"Alright men!" A female cheers, clapping her hands energetically. "Good work. We have now got dinner!"

There is a round of applause.

"Pinta, get the fire starting, alright? Donny, give us a laugh, alright? Ryouhei, scowl at the people who walk past us. If you have to, bite them! And Kazuya, you're with me."

There's a ruffle of footsteps; crunching along the pavement, kicking stones and tripping over holes. And—

Oh.

Great.

"Well, lookie here." Blinking, a wry smile starts to grow; spreading across her face as she exchanges a glance (hers amused, his incredulous) with her cohort. "We have ourselves a fellow scavenger among the streets. Now what should we do…"

Hopefully not cannibalism. Then again, this is… an unlikely situation.

"Karin?" He assumes this is 'Kazuya', judging by her speech minutes ago. Although now he's actually bothering to glare at them in the eye, he is fairly certain that one of them is crazy and the other worried. Problem is, he can't tell which.

"Yeah?" Not daring to look away, the woman with dark hair licks her lips. There's a rather dangerous glint in her eyes.

"… I don't see anything." He sounds more bored than anything else; as if the woman's arched eyebrows give any clue.

"Oh." Then again, she doesn't seem disappointed. Just… blasé. Blasé and possibly crazy. "That's alright. You can do exorcism alright?"

"Mm. Bits and bobs, really. Head gone one day, then one toe, then one hand, then a liver… it all depends on the ritual and the sacrifice used."

Kami.

He hates tramps.

three

"So how long have you been homeless?" The woman asks, eating dango.

He sits up, strangely regal and uptight. He has to make himself comfortable for what he has to say next.

"… I'm not homeless." He says haughtily, hopefully making sure that the message just go away and never come back has been sent, received and understood.

"Sure you're not." She shrugs, looking up at the sky. If she received the memo, then she didn't pay attention to it. "That's why you're living in the streets with no where to go. And got a beard."

He looks away, feeling something simmer in his face.

"You know, if you like, you can join us. The motley crew of misfits. We kick balls at the park and have a jolly good time on Thursdays." She laughs, but it's not a particularly light-hearted one, more like an empty echo; her smile fading soon afterwards. "My name is Karin."

For a second, Hitsugaya Toushirou wonders why she's telling him this.

"It's Toushirou."

Instead he asks her:

"Why did you stop the exorcism?"

"What?" Disbelief flickers like annoyance in her eyes. "You didn't seriously think I was actually going to?" Silence and he guesses that's enough to convey his answer. "Please, I wasn't about to exorcise you. Partly because I can't, but partly because I like talking to new people. Besides," Karin's tone is thoughtful, as she pauses, seemingly sifting through thoughts to say aloud. "You were alone, and though there's nothing wrong with that, I think everyone needs someone. So I'll be your friend, as long as you'll be mine. And I'll try to get that look of your face."

"What look?" Demanding to know, a strange surge of irritation and paranoia surges through him.

"The one that is completely uncaring of your own fate." She offers a sad smile, picks another dango up, and sticks in his mouth. "Food for thought?"

four

He disappears while she's asleep. Stands up and walks away, draping his blanket across her shoulders.

Doesn't look back because he doesn't want to.

… it's been a long time since someone's talked to him.

Though he doesn't look back, that doesn't mean that he watches out for them every now and then… from a regularly secure distance.

He left her name, and that's more than he's left anyone else these days.

five

Toushirou notices her frequently. Out of the corner of his eye, a face in a crowd, a rippled reflection.

Everyone is a ghost, but some are solid and others are not.

One day he finds another store of liquor and drinks and drinks and drinks.

Karin finds him, and with a sigh, begins to drag him with a grumble and a moan. To where, he doesn't know, fading into black.

six

"You alright there, Toushirou?" She sighs, pushing back a lock of his hair, smoothing it out. "Man, you're such a weight. Despite being a spirit and all…"

"Shinigami. It's—I'm a shinigami." He mumbles, before adding quietly. "And I didn't ask you to do anything for me."

"Mm. I know, but then, not a lot of people do, and yet I do them anyway." Quite carefree, and seemingly childlike, she sighs, shoulders slumping, and yet this positive ray of energy became visible on her face. "Invisible men that aid, yet no one notices their effort. It's a lonely life, and sad too, but there's something romantic about it."

Kami. His head kills.

And—his beard—terrible as it was, is missing. And that's a very good, if not a little strange, thing.

"Hey, everything okay except for the hangover?" She pokes his forehead gently, but it still makes his head feel hollow. "Ah, well, I found you again. I suppose that counts for something."

The wistful note doesn't escape him.

"How long has it been?"

"A year? Maybe less, maybe more?" Karin shrugs, and there's something bubbly in her messiness. It doesn't seem to affect her; rather, she accepts it and quickly adjusts. "Time isn't really an issue here, in this world. Life is ending as we know it, the best we can do is live."

"That sounds nice." He murmurs, eyes closing, trying to avoid the brilliance of light.

"Yeah, so long as we have a reason, it's fine." How quietly she speaks, much more withdrawn than before.

"Where is everybody?" Though it takes a while, Toushirou finally becomes aware of the silence, the absence of a murmured argument, petty more than anything else, complaining about things in their control: like whose turn it is to tell a story, who's the better cook, who can do what and when and how.

"Oh, they've gone. Some moved on, others…" Karin swallows, but she remains still. "Others weren't so lucky."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

And when she gasps for air and crawls into her skin, all he can do is stay there, by her side, to remind her that she is not alone.

seven

They both have coping mechanisms.

He drinks excessively, when he can, both to survive and forget every single one of his memories.

She just stays by his side, leans back and counts stars. Doesn't care about his secrets, doesn't care about his past, just wants someone to be there.

I'm so tired of being by myself.

Sometimes, the momentum between shifts, like tidal change: she tries to make him give up the drink, and he threatens to walk out. Words that make rifts both grow and close, and it's a different kind of hyperawareness that occurs between them when they make up.

They need each other, Toushirou sees that so clearly, and suspects that Karin knows this too.

And he wonders, now that he's met her and seen her be so vivacious in such a short life, if he can ever leave her.

eight

"So what happened?" He says one day, his curiosity too much for him to maintain idleness and feign obliviousness. "What made you become homeless?"

Karin leans forward, impressively menacing for someone in filthy clothes. "Why so curious?"

But she can't keep the façade up and bursts into laughter.

"I'm just…" Words falter on his tongue, trying to find a reason that doesn't make sense. "I just want to know."

"Yeah?" Her dimple is showing on her cheek, dancing to its own beat; she's amused by his response. "Well, if I tell you mine, you tell me yours. Deal?"

"Deal."

"I messed up. In another life, I messed up. So I ran, took the first train out of there… and tried to find something. A reason, maybe. Ryouhei kept teasing me and said I was looking for hope. But whatever it was, I found myself here. Found friends, things I'd never dream of." Scraping her hair back with her bare hands, Karin closes her eyes, trying to imagine that other life. One that seemed so impossibly far away. Or maybe it was something different, yet it captivated them all the same.

"And you?" Eventually, she says, settling back into her bones, head tilted in interest. "How did life turn out like this?"

"I took the fall." There's sufficient amount of alcohol in his bloodstream for all his secrets to come undone, and yet he doesn't care for any of it. "For a friend. I could have lived a different life. A better life." He laughs hollowly, and tries to ignore the darkened expression that Karin's hair has conveniently obscured. "And I didn't. Because she meant so much to me."

"It's not a bad life." Karin gestures, hands wide; her voice gentle, as if trying to make the best of it. "This."

"No. I suppose not." He smiles ruefully. "I have you, don't I?"

nine

They sleep hand in hand, heads leaning on each other, arches, holding on enough so that the other doesn't fall.

ten

Secrets will always come out.

Playing Superhero will eventually have its repercussions, and she'll connect the dots.

And then one day, he'll try to save her.

She does try to save herself. Karin gets points for the effort. But a baseball bat is hardly the effect weapon against Hollows.

When the dust clears, and Karin stands up, brushing herself off, the first thing she does is punch him.

"You can be cool, you can be a jerk, you can be a total idiot, yet you don't tell me that you have this level of awesome inside you?" She's angrier at the lack of prior knowledge than the fact that wings are springing out of his shoulders. Well, she's seen ghosts. Seen things other people don't see. But still, it should really shock her. "Why the hell not?"

"It didn't seem necessary." He mumbles, a flush of red spreading over his face.

"Which really does beg the question to make me think: what are you?" Karin muses, diligently taking no notice of his previous answer.

"I've said. I'm a shinigami." And he's said it so many times that he thinks that she only said it to provoke him.

"Oh, I know!" She grins, clapping her hand, somewhat shark-like. "You're a tramp with wings!"

"Don't call me that!" He snaps, embarrassment turning to mortification.

"Super-tramp! Super-tramp! Super-tramp!" Karin grins, clearly teasing him.

"I'm not a—"

"You so are! Hey, this world needs a reason to live, right? So let's give them that." She grins, brilliantly alive. "Let's both be super-tramps. Making heck of a lot money while we can! You save, I advertise. Together we'll be unstoppable."

Toushirou tries to smother a sigh shaped smile.

"You are so corrupt."

But that's life. And that's what living with Karin is like.

It's not so bad, when all they have is blurry stars that connect them and each other, finding new reasons to live on.

eleven

"Any idea what's for lunch?"

"No idea."

"Damn."

The eternal curse of being a tramp.