Sins of the Father
"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children…"
The Merchant of Venice (3.5.1)
Prologue
"They say your new patient is completely insane. Lost. No hope. Can't be saved."
"Is it some form of early onset dementia?"
"You can read all the test results for yourself, but he seems to be physically and chemically firing on all cylinders…"
The young doctor pushed his tiny spectacles – the kind more for show than function – up the bridge of his nose. He straightened his tie and brushed down his white lab coat for what had to be the fifteenth time.
"Nervous, Kurosaki?"
The doctor turned to his colleague, shaking himself from his reverie.
"Don't show it. He'll eat you alive if you do," Dr. Abarai advised.
Ichigo did not respond, only gazed at him over the tops of his glasses, already lost in his thoughts again.
"Hello! Paging Dr. Kurosaki," Renji teased, waving a hand in his face.
"Hm? What? Oh, no, not nervous, just more used to studying dead people than working with living," Ichigo replied matter-of-factly, brushing past Renji and continuing down the hall towards his patient's room.
"You keep spacing out like that in here and they'll have you admitted," the Assistant Head of Psychiatrics jested, falling in step a few paces behind.
"Right," Ichigo scoffed. He shook his head again to clear it before continuing, "Don't show emotion, don't get too close…" He ran a hand through his orange hair in frustration.
"And don't take notes in front of him," Renji finished for him. "They've got the whole cell lined with microphones and record twenty-four – seven. Don't worry, you'll do fine."
"If I can't take notes, why do I need this?" Ichigo held up a clipboard with a yellow legal pad clamped onto it.
"For appearances." Renji gripped his shoulder in reassurance. "Just don't play his games. If anyone can crack this – "
"Don't say it."
"Nut… It'll be you, Kurosaki."
"Renji," came a hissed warning as they approached the solitary confinement room Ichigo's new patient was being held in. "Don't use that word in here."
"Yeah, Orihime, I know." Renji threw up his hands in surrender. "Good luck," he called over his shoulder as he made his way back down the hall. "You're gonna need it."
Ichigo swallowed hard, his index finger starting to tap rapidly against the clipboard he held.
"Oh, don't listen to him," the nurse, Orihime, advised, placing a comforting hand on his forearm, calming his nervous tic. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," came the doctor's stoic reply. His finger had stilled on the clipboard, but the nervousness had far from faded as he stepped through the first doorway, walked down a short hall, and went through another door into the plush, glaringly white padded cell of his patient.
"Dr. Ichigo Kurosaki, I presume," came a growl-like voice from the corner of the room. "Studied Forensic Psychology at Harvard, top of his class, and I'm gonna getta see him wet his pants."
A chorus of deranged laughter followed, growing louder as Ichigo's eyes adjusted to the bright light and focused in on his patient. The man was wrapped in white, looking akin to a mummy, except for his head. The stark blue eyes glared at the doctor from under a shock of hair the same shade. The gaze quelled the doctor's voice before he could even begin to speak.
"Let me introduce myself," the man said, suddenly taking on the air of the perfect gentleman. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, at your service."
~*~ If you liked it, please let me know! I'll only continue working on it if I get some interest. ~*~
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EDIT: ~*~ I have gotten enough interest to continue this story, but bear with me if it's a little slow going, please! ~*~