Oh. Hi. Look who's risen from the dead with a one-shot. I'm very sorry that it's been so long- the explanation for my lengthy absence is on my profile.

He wasn't fond of hiding. But in a time of war, it was a must.

He bit his lip and clicked the pen a few times, trying his hardest to figure out how to encompass all of his twisted emotions in one short note, on such short notice.

Eventually, he scribbled out a single word and grabbed his bag, darting out the door into the pre-dawn air, regret tainting his heart even as determination and desperation pulled his feet forward.

He met his friends at the shop, and if they noticed anything different, they didn't say anything. It shouldn't matter anyway.

…

"Ya just need ta breathe, focus inwards… Are ya listenin' ta me?"

Shinji sounded annoyed, and Ichigo jerked himself out of his daydream. "Yes, I'm listening," he muttered, tearing his eyes from the blond to the wall behind him.

The Visored didn't look convinced, but he continued on anyway, instructing Ichigo on the process of entering his inner world while in battle. As Ichigo had done that before and didn't really see the need for it, he let the words flow over him, listening not to their meaning but on the way they were formed, the way they were spoken in that even tone and the accent that Ichigo had trouble placing. It sent shivers down his spine.

And all good things must end, he thought bitterly as Hiyori started screaming about it was past six at night and no one had made dinner. Shinji stopped speaking and stared at her unabashedly as she stormed up to Love and kicked him hard in the face, accusatory because it was his turn to make dinner. Ichigo rolled his eyes and sulked inwardly as he, too, stared at the scene his new housemate was making.

"Ya know what?" Shinji asked quietly, eyes following his arguing friends, and Ichigo redirected his gaze to the blond as he continued, "I think we're done with the whole learning thing today, an' I know I'm done with Hiyori, so what do ya say about goin' up ta the roof?"

Curious, Ichigo muttered his agreement and followed as Shinji strolled nonchalantly past Love and Hiyori, up a ladder and through a door on the ceiling.

Shinji pulled himself up and slid backward to allow Ichigo to join him, and then he kicked the door shut. It clattered closed with a loud metallic clang, and Ichigo winced. Shinji spared a teasing grin for the younger, and then walked to the edge of the roof and leaned on the railing. Ichigo stood next to him, reveling in both the wind blowing through his hair and the presence of the blond.

"Kisuke never mentioned how quiet ya are," Shinji said after a while, apparently sick of listening to nothing but the howling of the wind and the sound of cars rushing by on the roads around the warehouse.

"I'm not usually," Ichigo responded, staring at the skyline of his hometown, "But what do you say to people who you barely know?"

Shinji was quiet for a minute, and then he sighed and sat down. Ichigo eyed him from the corner of his eyes, curious and wary, and so Shinji sighed again and gestured for Ichigo to join him. After a moments' hesitation, he did so.

"What do ya want ta know?" Shinji inquired, sounding almost bored, and Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows.

"Huh?"

After that eloquent reply, Shinji rolled his eyes and repeated his question. Ichigo shrugged, "It doesn't really matter."

Shinji let out a loud groan and leaned back, muttering about impossible people and general stupidity. Having heard similar insults throughout his life, Ichigo didn't pay the words any mind. Instead, he just watched the blond and admired his collarbones before he abruptly sat up again. "I was born in the Soul Society. I lived with my mother for twenty years before I left. I don' remember the reason why. The next fifty years o' my life were spent as a thief, seeing as I had ta eat somehow. I tried ta rob Kyoraku Shunsui an' he made me come back with him because of how strong my reiatsu is. I was originally assigned to the third division an' worked my way up the ranks 'til I was captain of the fifth. Aizen was my lieutenant an' he turned my and the others ta what we are now. That was a hundred years ago. I love music but can't sing or play an instrument. I speak two languages only because it was a requirement for a job I had about fifteen years ago. I got my tongue ring on a dare from Lisa and Love, since the alternative was kissing Hiyori. I think that records are better than CDs, and that the slingshot is the best invention in history because it pisses everyone off."

Ichigo stared, slightly amused, partly scared, but mostly befuddled at the load of information Shinji had just heaped on him. Shinji, however, looked determined, and after a minute, gestured loudly and prompted, "Your turn."

He raised his eyebrows but decided to comply, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Music means more to me than air, and I can both sing and play the guitar. I only speak Japanese. My best friend wants to pierce my ears in seven different places, but since I hated the feeling of metal in my ears the first time I allowed her to do it, I continually threaten her with bodily harm if she tries. Doctors are my favorite people right next to scientists, because in general, they've done more for me than anyone else in this damn world ever has."

And they continued on like that. Ichigo eventually lied down next to Shinji, and they both stared at the stars as they rattled off random facts about themselves. And the night wore on, and eventually they fell asleep on the roof. They curled closer to each other in their sleep as the temperature throughout the night continued to drop, and as the clock neared one in the morning, Lisa found them there. She first took a picture for blackmail and then woke them up.

…

Shinji nearly screamed when he found the note. He would have had the others not been standing right behind him. He gave it Mashiro at her endless griping and then slipped through the small crowd to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind himself and fought the worry and the tears prickling at his eyes.

He sat down heavily and put his head between his knees, folding his fingers into his hair and gritting his teeth.

After several minutes of forcing himself to breathe, he uncurled and threw himself backward, lying face up on his bed. He felt around for the remote to his stereo and, when he found it, he turned it on and pumped up the volume. He closed his eyes.

…

"That hurt!" Ichigo hissed, jerking his arm out of Shinji's hold reflexively. Shinji slapped the back of his head and pulled him close again, taking the tweezers to the wound and hunting down more glass shards. Ichigo grumbled a bit but didn't try to escape again.

"There," Shinji said an hour later, dropping the last shard into the trash can next to him and the tweezers onto his bed, exchanging them for bandages. He began the process of wrapping Ichigo's arm, fighting the blush that he could feel creeping up the back of his neck as Ichigo stared at him. "Done," he told the teen, releasing him.

"Thanks," Ichigo grunted, and then he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Shinji raised his eyebrows. "What are ya doin'?"

"Sleeping," came the reply, and Shinji's eyebrows climbed higher.

"You've your own room for that," he pointed out, and was ignored. He rolled his eyes and nudged the teen, who responded to that by shifting until his head was on the unused pillow and he was facing away from Shinji. "Fine," Shinji grumbled, and pulled the sheets of his bed down. Ichigo situated himself under them and Shinji stared for a second before he just sighed and lay down on the empty side of the bed. He reached for the lamp and pulled the cord, watching as the light went out.

Moonlight filtered in through the window and the lights from downstairs and the voices of his friends made it difficult to fall asleep most nights, and even in his youth, Shinji almost never shared his bed with anyone. He usually left his one-night stands and had only one long-lasting relationship in his life. The sound of Ichigo's even breathing next to him made him hyper aware of everything about himself, and it was only after the moonlight began to dim and his friends had all retired that he drifted off to sleep.

…

Kensei had taken Mashiro to a movie after her seemingly endless begging made it impossible to ignore her any longer. Lisa and Rose had joined them out of pity for Kensei, though Ichigo was more than willing to bet that the couples would split as soon as they reached the theatre. Hachi had gone grocery shopping with Love and Hiyori had gone to visit Kisuke. At first, Ichigo hadn't believed that excuse, but when Shinji said that he used to be her captain and she was his lieutenant, the excuse made a bit more sense.

Still, he found it hard to believe that Hiyori, of all people, would care enough about Kisuke to go visit him without reason. Shinji said she did it quite often, since Kisuke, for all intents and purposes, was Hiyori's best friend since their exile. Getting them to admit how much they cared about one another, however, would be like pulling teeth.

That conversation had taken place an hour ago, and Shinji had wandered off to god-knew-where in the warehouse to do god-knew-what, and Ichigo was left alone. He pondered texting Tatsuki and seeing if she wanted to do something, but then he remembered that she would be training for the regional competition next week and would only get mad at him for disturbing her. Then he found a bouncy ball on the floor and occupied himself by tossing it at the wall and lamenting his social life, since the rest of his friends weren't really good for much more than mutual school assistance or battle.

Music started playing from upstairs, and while Ichigo briefly wondered what Shinji had been doing that he hadn't turned it on earlier, he quickly dismissed it and resumed tossing the ball around, this time while his feet rested on the wall and he stared at the cracking ceiling. A door opened, and he registered the noise in the subconscious part of his brain that was always attuned to his surroundings, but he ignored that too.

"You must be awfully bored," Shinji said, and Ichigo nodded without looking away from the ball.

Shinji didn't say much else for the next two hours; instead, eventually lying next to Ichigo and they both tossed the ball at the wall. It was, in hindsight, one of the dumber moments of Ichigo's life, but he liked it all the same.

…

Shinji rolled over and pressed his face into one of his pillows, taking in a shuddering breath, the air rattling his ribcage and through his lungs.

…

Ichigo stared up at the moon that hadn't moved since he got here, and listened to the crackling fire as if from a dream. He played absently with the sand between his fingers and sighed heavily, tearing his gaze from the depressing sky and moon.

…

It was a week before Orihime would disappear. It was a week before Ichigo would scribble "Thanks" out on a note card and leave without a trace. It was a week before a lethal few months would strike them both in their hearts and their souls, but in the week before all of that, neither of them knew that.

All they knew was that it was nearing two am and they both had had too much sake, and that they couldn't stop laughing. Everyone else had long gone to bed; they were alone.

"Com'here," Shinji muttered, gesturing too largely for the sentiment, but Ichigo didn't really notice nor care. He complied, and sat next to Shinji in the chair- and by next to, of course, that meant more, "on top of"- and stared at the blond, giggling faintly under his breath. Shinji stared back and leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the crook of Ichigo's neck while Ichigo buried his fingers into thin strands of blond hair.

For several minutes, they remained seated there, tangled up and sleepily drunk. Shinji shifted slightly and his lips brushed across Ichigo's collarbone, and they both froze. They pulled apart at the same time and stared brown eyes into brown eyes.

The kiss was both expected and a surprise, but neither of them pulled away once their lips connected. They kissed slowly, eyes open.

"Come to bed," Shinji whispered into the kiss.

Ichigo didn't think twice. "Okay."

…

The pre-dawn air was cold and sharp, and Ichigo shivered in his denim jacket. He kept walking along the dirt road, holding his skateboard under one arm since there were too many small stones here to allow him to ride it. His sneakers had sand in them, and the chain attached to his belt kept clicking noisily against his thigh, but he didn't care. He kept his gaze forward and his feet moving.

As the sun brushed the tops of the trees, Ichigo stopped walking and stared at the empty space where he knew the Visored warehouse to be. He dropped his skateboard and sat down on it, a weight on his heart that he couldn't deny.

He knew the warehouse was there. He'd lived here for months, after all. Logically, he knew that.

But he couldn't see it. He couldn't feel it.

It might as well be gone.

…

Shinji walked out and put the trash into the bucket next to the warehouse, and as he turned to head back inside, his eyes caught sight of a figure sitting in front of the barrier.

Ichigo.

He grit his teeth and glanced behind him, but none of the other Visored showed any inclination of coming outside. Shinji walked over to the teen and reached out, but his fingers only passed through Ichigo like thin air. Shinji tried to pretend that it didn't hurt.