Ichigo Kurosaki cringed at the way his father's head crashed into the wall, sighing deeply while scratching the back of his neck. His sisters watched carefully, pondering over the boy's next move. That morning, the childish man, Isshin Kurosaki, thought to surprise his defenseless son. The idea had been out of nowhere and so ill-planned that he had forgotten the most important detail of his quest. His 'darling child,' as he often referred him to, was already up and dressed when he stumbled into the room. As if the plan would've succeeded otherwise.
All things quiet, he stared from the surface of the boy's bed. Blinking every so often. Finally, gathering up whatever courage the scruffy man could, he lunged full force at the other, tripping over a stuffed lion on his way. It was then that he suffered the embarrassment of gliding helplessly across the floor. Gravity shoved him into something hard, limbs aching from the fatal blow.
The twins walked in soon after, frowning at their father's shame. "Will you give it a rest, old man?" Karin barked, glancing once more at the buffoon. "...pathetic."
Yuzu winced at the venom in her tone, redirecting her attention to her stupefied brother. "Are you okay, Ichi? Dad didn't hurt you, right?"
"In his dreams," he scoffed. Light seeped into the small bedroom. He couldn't remember the last time he awoke to this ridiculousness. But it gave him a warm feeling inside. Not that he'd ever admit it. Summer started three days ago, eliciting his sudden return from T. University. Maybe he'd swing by Urahara's for lunch?
It was above seventy degrees outside. The town was soundless and streets were scarce. His mind drifted back to the moment he had left home-Isshin bawling at his feet. Begging him to stay. His sisters bidding him farewell while struggling to keep hold of their weeping guardian. He smiled at the memory.
Campus life wasn't at all what he had imagined. Classes were short and few, teachers less tolerant and strict, students more focused. It wasn't hard to grasp the idea of what to prioritize. The first steps towards graduation were easy. But then there were his roomates.
A battle crazed madman and playboy with startling blue hair. The two lunatics went by the names of Ikkaku Madarame and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Whatever the circumstances, it was best not to think of it. He couldn't fight the headache.
Birds chirped cheerfully. Those who were walking stopped to stare at his flamboyant hair color. Wondering whether or not it was natural. Not daring to cross the distance and ask directly. No, that would be rude. So, he just grumbled lightly and ignored them, as usual. The shop was almost in sight anyways. Why bother?
One thing had troubled him since he left. Something laughable but just as important as those he held dear. It settled at the very back of his mind, poking at him every now and then. He couldn't wrap his head around the details but it stuck like glue. He wondered how Ishida was doing. And if his absence meant nothing to the stoic teenager.
They've spoken scarcely a few words to each other outside of homeroom. He wasn't even sure if the other enjoyed his company. Scratch that. That thought has been made clear on numerous occasions. But to what extent? If Ichigo were to suddenly dissappear, and not a soul in all of existence could reach him, no matter how hard they've tried, would he be affected? Would he even flinch?
Sometimes his mind drifts to the deeper and darker parts of himself that says otherwise. If he really were to vanish then nobody would care. They wouldn't cry. Or laugh. Or search for him. Nothing would happen. Life in Karakura would resume it's natural routine as if he'd never been born. It would continue without him there. And that shook him to the core.
Pain, betrayal, loneliness. All three loomed around his world as he processed the notion. But then he'd remember Misaki. How she loved him with every fiber of his being. And his friends, how they swore to stick by his side. To experience whatever life had in store for them together. Leaving no one behind.
"How unfortunate this day turned out to be," someone voiced from above. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd return so quickly. To what do we owe this displeasure? "
He lifted his head, eyes narrowed. The speaker was dressed in normal clothes, with a few people at his side, armored with brass knuckles and wooden baseball bats. They glowered down from the roof of a third story building. Eyes cold.
Briefly, he evaluated his options. First, he could dismiss everything said. Take a quiet stroll through the park to calm his nerves. Or he could teach those delinquents a good lesson on the use of proper etiquette. Lastly...well, he wasn't given enough time to think up that one. The four individuals lunged at him with unbelievable speed.
And as he was about to strike back, something sharp dove into his side. The world dangerously spun. His vision blurred, body ached. Throbbed.
Then there was silence.
...
He was blinded by light. Hands clammy, brows furrowed. Chest heaving. He made to sit up but howled at the sting of his wound. It tore at his insides, discomfort spreading. It was then he realized what had happened. But how did he get away?
"Don't move," something called out to him. "Your wound will reopen. Inoue worked hard in stitching it. So sit still."
Ichigo couldn't see anything but white. Bright and piercing. His hands however were taken by another's. That voice. He grasped more firmly onto it, fearful to let it go. I've heard it from somewhere. His hands twitched. It can't be...
The room was quiet and still. Soon, his vision returned. Yet he wasn't expecting to see what was surely before him. He groaned, fixating his gaze at the other. His heart sank at what he saw. Orihime, bawling her eyes out of their sockets.
Not Uryu.
Of course, it was the girl. She looked up to the boy far more than any of his friends. Every time they caught each others gazes. When he'd help her with chores, homework, or those moments alone when the others are too busy to accompany them. Her eyes would sparkle at the mere mention of his name. If she had plans, she'd drop them the minute he needed something. Whether it was out of boredom or not she accepted it. Because he was the only one for her. She liked him. More than that of a friend.
But he couldn't see her that way. And for that, he is sorry. "...O-Orihime?"
"I'm so glad you're okay!" Tears molded down her cheeks in puddles. Big in size and spilling over her puffy face. It was unsightly, but comical to say the least. "We were worried you wouldn't wake up. Especially, Ishida! He was up all night pacing!"
"That is quite enough."
They both looked in the direction of the doorway. The man himself stood meters away from the king-sized bed. He gave the girl a threatening glance and walked to the other side of it. Both were stunned into silence.
"I doubt your reason is good for explaining the state you're in, so I won't ask. However, I won't mindlessly go along with whatever it is, either. Inoue may have been the one to discover your misfortune," he continued. "But you should put an end to these silly shenanigans!"
Orihime and Ichigo were rooted to their seats, sinking further in with every syllable. They've never seen Uryuu so harsh, so angry. Even if he showed no emotion, the intensity behind those words were bone chilling. Not a sound was made afterwards.
"What I am trying to get at," he growled, "Is that until you learn not to cause anymore problems, you will not leave this room unless I permit it! Is that clear?"
Ichigo couldn't breathe. He was surprised by the sudden outburst, even more so how Uryu can sit there seemingly unaffected by the weight of his own words. It finally sank in just how much the other cared for the Kurosaki boy. Although he'd never admit it, this was the happiest Ichigo had ever been.