AN: So yeah... I want to turn this into a multiple-chaptered story. Nothing epic, maybe just 5 or 6 at most... I dunno. -shrugs- But here is the next installment. XD Any questions about the Disclaimer and stuff is on the first chapter. -Bows- Please enjoy!


Morning. The bane of every student and working person's existence. Mondays. Day one, the beginning of the Week of Hell. Coffee. It was salvation, the only thing that would be able to get Ichigo through this torturous time of his life, and he needed a lot of it after what happened last night. When he'd left that morning, the couple had still been asleep, and rather than rudely awaken them from their adorable snoozing and cuddling, he decided to leave a note with his contact information. He would have stayed if he could, but he had to work that morning, and later on that night was a lecture to attend on Music Theory. For the next five days, it would be filled with nothing but work and school, eating and sleeping, studying and taking breaks only to go to the toilet, and possibly a gig on a weekend night. Exams were coming up soon, so he had to dive deep into the recesses of his brain and pull forth all the knowledge he learned this semester for quizzing.

Just a slight problem... He had a hard time focusing, and he very well knew the reason why.

When his turn in line came up, he set about giving the nice young lady his order. House blend Iced Coffee, with a shot of Irish Cream and a slice of orange. He didn't have to say a single word, the staff knew him well enough here to immediately get him his usual, but old habits die hard. Megumi, the girl behind the register, gave him a pleasant smile and went about making his order. Other workers were okay at it, but she made his drink the best. Actually, it was because of her that he was so fond of the drink. First time here, he wasn't quite sure what to order, because when you are a caffeine addict, everything looks good, so she offered to stir something up for him. It had been his staple from then on.

After receiving his drink and making sure Megumi would be here tomorrow to take his order again, she seemed to work most mornings, he gave her a little wave and walked a steady beat he brought up on his iPod, a good song by Awolnation called "Sail." His next destination was a local music store that was half an hour's walk from the coffee place, and he was in no particular rush to get there seeing as his shift didn't start until forty-five minutes from now. None of the employees were really supposed to have anything behind the counter, the only exception being a bottle of water, so he had time to savor every drop on the way there.

Swaying to the beat as he walked, Ichigo expertly dived in and out of the human traffic that clogged the sidewalks of downtown Karakura, rarely did he ever accidently bump into anyone. He'd been working at Shinigami Records ever since he first came to this city, so he had quite a bit of practice. He was still in high school when his entire family moved here just so his father could have his own clinic, and it wasn't fun moving so abruptly like that, leaving all his friends behind. He still kept in touch, but over a distance, the feeling just wasn't the same. And then pile a whole shitload of other things onto his back, and that was the past he didn't really want to remember. Things were different. He was on his own, now, and his family was happy, and he was happy, so there was nothing left for him to look back on. He was out here, in the wild of the city, surviving on his own, and that felt fantastic!

Sure, he's met a few people he wished he would have remained ignorant to, but on a larger scale, there was nothing serious to complain about his current situation. He had a job, he was going to school, his band kick-started it's debut performance just last month, and he'd gotten laid last night. Add this morning's expertly crafted brew from Megumi as the cherry on top. He wasn't sure he'd be able to say the same when he walked over the threshold of the store's entrance, so he savored the tiny bit of sanity he had to himself before he lost it for the rest of the day.

Ichigo had gone through a few more songs from that same band before he finally arrived at his destination. Swallowing the last few drops of liquid euphoria and dropping the empty cup in the trash can nearby, he braved himself to gather his wits so he wouldn't be thrown off-guard at what might be happening inside those doors. Nope, he was still thrown for a loop. He almost wanted to back outside and have a double-take at the door sign. But there were his coworkers, acting as weird as ever... maybe a little weirder than what was considered normal...

There was Madarame Ikkaku, a young man that had shaved his head and was the drummer in Ichigo's band. He had a slight attitude problem, but on the whole, he wasn't a half-bad person to get to know. Today, he had what looked like a bokken attached to his belt, gripping the end with a strained hand as he glared menacingly towards a busty blonde girl who just shrugged him off in favor of doing something else. Matsumoto Rangiku was the store's main source of gossip and flirtation. Gossip for the girls, and every guy's wet dream. Except for Ichigo. She treated him like one of the girls. It was a sweet thought, but also a little insulting, though he knew she didn't mean any harm by it. Those who weren't used to her blunt personality and outlandish ideas could find themselves a little overwhelmed. The perfect example would be the newest addition to their staff, who was sitting in a chair and letting Rangiku put make-up on his face. Hanatarō Yamada was currently sitting on a stool, smiling happily as Rangiku applied eye make-up in expert strokes to his lids and lashes. He was dressed... as a girl? He had a sundress on, yellow with little daisies around the hem and bustier, the spaghetti straps disappearing into a pink shrug, the dress ending at his knees and Ichigo could see pink, heeled shoes.

It must have been a dead day for business. That's what usually lead his ragtag bunch of coworkers to the brink of insanity. Ichigo entertained the thought of slipping out, going home and playing hooky for the rest of the day so he wouldn't have to deal with them, but that plan scratched itself out when Rangiku turned to him with a huge smile. Crap, he was in for it, now. There was no stopping her when she got that look in her eye.

"Ichigo!" She threw herself at him, mindful of the beauty products in her hands, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Isn't this an awesome idea? Yamada volunteered to be a subject for my beauty school practice! He's such a good kid. Unlike some other, more stubborn and baldy men that would easily rip a girl's heart out-"

"Woman, what the hell are you on?! I never said anything like that!" Ikkaku turned to me then jammed a finger at her. "All I said was no! That's it!"

She slapped the back of his shiny head. "You're such a brute! You are supposed to be nice to women! How do you ever expect to get a girlfriend with that attitude?" He turned to her, screaming.

"Well it sure isn't going to be you!"

Rangiku's eyes flared as she whirled on him. "Like I would ever suggest such a disgusting thing!" She then proceeded to grab his bokken and chased him around the store, coming very close on several occasions to whacking him on the head, disregarding any pleas for her to stop her relentless assault. Ichigo steered clear of the fight, edging his way over to Yamada who also sported a wide-eyed look at the crazy scene in front of them.

"Um... Why are you in a dress? I'm not judging or anything, just curious."

He sweat-dropped at him. "Rangiku-sempai believes that it will get me in touch with my inner femininity and I'll be able to wear the make-up better." Ichigo raised an eyebrow as he put his bag down behind the counter.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. But it's better to let Rangiku believe that rather than end up like Ikkaku-san."

Looking over to the soundtracks where the duo had stopped fighting, or where Ikkaku admitted defeat, Ichigo tried not to let out any laughter. Ikkaku was squatting, nearly sitting, on the ground, his head in his hands as a bump visibly formed where his bokken had made contact with his skull. This was his day job, his mornings and afternoons wasted away with these misfits. Granted, by a technicality he was one of them, on occasion he had a tendency to act like an idiot, but out of the four of them he was considered the most sane, followed really closely by Yamada.

Lunch came around eleven-thirty, for both him and Rangiku, the other two would take theirs after they got back at twelve-fifteen. The pair chose a place tucked away in the corner of a plaza, and it wasn't long before their table was littered with subs, fries, chips, cookies and soda. Ichigo was a bit of a light eater, though, so only the sandwich and soda were his. He had a sneaky suspicion, though, that whatever Rangiku ate went straight to her boobs instead of her waist. However, the conversation that took place was more interesting than that bit of old news. She didn't play coy, either, she attacked the point of the matter, and she did it with a sweet smile on her face.

"Ichi-kun... You seem different this morning. Did you get laid last night?" Ichigo sputtered and coughed as he'd chosen to take a swig of his soda in that moment, trying to force the burning liquid out of the wrong tube it had accidentally escaped to. Rangiku waved her hands in worry, before awkwardly going over to pat a hand on his back. "Sorry, was that too forward for you?" Clearly.

Once he was able to breathe properly again, he dropped his head in his hands. He did not want to talk to her about his sex life. Really, it was something he wanted to keep all to himself. But he also knew that Rangiku would eventually get it out of him, whether it was by stalking him for the next few weeks, or beating it out of him, she'd get her way. Better to tell her some of it just to get her off his back than to get beaten into an unrecognizable blob... Or worse. Seriously, with those boobs, he didn't even want to thing about what "or worse" could mean. Fine, he'll give her a vague story, but the details were his to keep a hold of.

He sighed. "Yes, Ran... I did get laid. Or rather I laid them..."

She cheered and nudged him in the shoulder. "You sly bastard! Who's the lucky bitch with the sore ass?" she asked conversationally, popping chips into her mouth as if it were popcorn, her eyes bright and very interested. She was giddy as a school girl, and so unbelievably happy, he didn't question how she knew he was bi, or even the fact that he'd bang a dude instead of a girl. She was a woman. They were sensitive to these things. Better not to questions it, as he would most likely get nothing but a headache in return.

Ichigo picked up the first half of his Philly cheese steak sub, looking off to the side. "I prefer not to disclose either of their names." Then he took a big bite and let that information sink into her strawberry-blond head. Her eyes only got wider, if that were at all possible.

"You banged two people? Were they already a couple?" He nodded, and he swore she was going to squeal at any moment. "Was it only a one-time thing, or were you invited back to their bed any time?" He nodded again, but he didn't have to tell her which one he was nodding to, she understood completely, that or she assumed correctly. "That's so kinky! Are you going to be a part of their relationship, then? That would be so idyllic! The perfect romance! It makes me swoon with absolute jealousy!"

Him? Part of a relationship? He didn't even know anything about them, except for their names and where they lived. It was for the best that he remained a fuck buddy, because relationships were complicated, screwing someone into the next Tuesday was not. Simple logistics, really. His last two relationships didn't end so well, so taking a break from that was probably a good idea. He was in a "don't take things too seriously" state of mind, regardless of what anybody else might think would be good for him. Whatever, he shrugged to himself, focusing on trying to eat at least half his sandwich before getting back to work.

"Ichigo..." He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's unhealthy to stay this way. It's been a year since you were in a relationship... Don't you think it's time you jump back into the sea? Screwing people must be great and all, but don't you want to find someone to love? To love you in return before the last petal falls? Don't you want a beauty to love your beast?"

The carrot-top rolled his eyes as he took a drink to clear his throat so he could speak without a full mouth. "Eventually, I might find somebody worthy to fill that spot. Right now, I'm just fine right where I am. At least I didn't wait two or three years before even having sex. I couldn't survive keeping my legs closed for that long, but let me cope how I want to cope for now, and if another year passes with me still single and having one-night stands, then feel free to bitch at me, okay? I promise you'll get first dibs. I know you're worried about me, and that sweet, but I'm a big boy, I can handle myself."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Sometimes I just wonder about that head of yours, that's all." He would have asked what she meant by that, but she put up a hand in protest. "That's between me and a friend of mine. Ignore it. Anyway, We're due back at the store, soon."

He got up and stretched. "Damn... Back to those two?"

She poked him in the stomach. "Are you going to finish it, or can I pretty please have it?" She was referring to the other half of his foot-long sandwich. The table was clear of everything else aside from it, and Ichigo had to wonder how she manage to clean everything off as still have room for more. He had plans on saving that little morsel, but he had a weak spot for those begging blue eyes, and he pushed it over to her. He waved her off even as she tried to eat it and thank him at the same time as they headed back to the store.

The entire day was dull, but there was always something needed to be done, whether it was reorganization in each section, or lecturing his coworkers for horsing around and ruining the displays, to doing the most hated job ever of taking inventory. Yamada was still in the dress by the time he had to leave, and somehow, some way, Rangiku managed to get Ikkaku down and now he had blocks of red liner and shadow coming up from his eyes. Even more surprising, he actually looked pretty good with it, and Ikkaku liked it enough to want to keep them from now on. It would certainly make a striking statement in the band, perhaps Rangiku should do a bit of make-up on all their faces when Halloween rolled around. Ichigo was able to dodge her for most of the day, he wasn't into make-up, but for something special like the holidays, he wouldn't mind that. Halloween was still nearly six months away, so they could still make plans and apply for various gigs.

After his shift ended, he bid them farewell and briskly walked to his apartment, just enough time for him to grab his textbook and notebook, leaving right on time for his only class of the night. It wasn't much to look at, a three bedroom with a joint kitchen and living room, and a bathroom off the the side, but he and his roommates were able to make it work most of the time. Ichigo didn't have much in the way of personal affects. A laptop, a few photos and a cup of pens and pencils sat atop a small desk, while his guitar and backpack leaned against it on either side. He had a small dresser to put his clothes in, and the size of his bed was no larger than a twin. The walls had a few band and movie posters, but that was it.

One of his roommates was quiet, hardly said anything, and was the second guitarist in his band. He was a tall monstrosity, with a dark skin tone worthy of his Hispanic background, but Sado was like a lamb on the inside, a gentle giant. Not many people knew he had a pet cockatiel he'd named after a kid that had been violently murdered along with his mother. The other one living there was a controlling neat freak and very boisterous about it. If he or Sado forgot to pick up a sock in the living room, Ishida would get into a blown out rampage about "crowding up the place with their junk." Granted, one of the reasons why three boys could live in a small space equivalent to three closets and a bedroom was because they kept it tidy, but this guy was obsessive-compulsive bordering on anal, and he never let them forget it.

They all had set chores, as well, something they were responsible for. Ishida had a thing about taking proper care of his clothes, and he refused to let anyone else do them, so he was responsible for most of everyone's laundry. Also, he had a system going on in the bathroom, and he refused to let anyone change his habits, so he would clean the bathroom according to his own personal schedule. Sado was pretty decent at making food, so most nights had him preparing meals and keeping the kitchen tidy. As for Ichigo, he had very good organization skills, and thus the living room was given to him. All their DVDs, CDs, video games and books were neatly stuffed into various bookshelves, divided by personal possession, and kept in smart places around the room to optimize space, because there was barely any room for the furniture and TV, let alone the extra bookcases. Speaking of which, Ichigo's trained eye could see they were starting to run out of room, again...

But he didn't have time to think about that right now. Glancing at the wall clock, there was fifteen minutes until his class started, so Ichigo got hasty and went to his room to grab his things and then grabbed an apple from the large bowl on the counter before he made his way out. It was a two-hour class, but they were allowed a fifteen-minute break to eat, go to the bathroom and try to wrap their heads around the lesson with the teacher or their friends. He needed something more than just coffee and a half-eaten sandwich in his system. He'd made a grave mistake by letting Rangiku have the other half, but couldn't bring himself to care enough to throw a fit.

The campus wasn't too far away, and the building he needed to be in was just at the edge, known as Wolfgang Hall, and his classroom was on the second level, with one of the better teachers the college had to offer. Professor Rōjūrō Otoribashi was a great guy, and although his blonde hair, girly persona and love of music made him seem a bit weird, all of his students adored him. He even had a nickname, Professor Rose, because he always had roses on his desk, no matter the color or season. Even though Ichigo already knew most of the material taught for this class, he still attended for the amusement the teacher always provided. It was a class he loved going to, and he wouldn't dream of missing a single day.

After taking a seat in the half-filled lecture hall, he took a moment to see the lessons on the dry-erase board. Consonance and dissonance. Chord extensions. Chord Progression. Diatonic Functions. And Diminished Chords. Stuff he already knew. Go figure. Another night where he could sit back and relax. Slumping back in his chair, he crossed a foot over to rest on his knee. There were a few more people starting to trickle in, including another member of the band and his best friend since childhood. Tatsuki was short, but she could kick any person's butt into unconsciousness, just give her about ten seconds to do it. Rukia was the bassist, and one hell of a good one. She was the only other member of the band that bothered to go to college with him. Both Sado and Ikkaku worked full time.

They came over to him, greeted him with a wave and sat down on either side of him, settling their books and bags into place, and then leered at him, leaning in close to grin at him. Shit, he knew this maneuver very well, and when Rukia opened her big fat mouth, he knew he was right in assuming they'd already heard the news from Rangiku. That bitch. He loved her immensely, but sometimes she just didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. That was another reason why he didn't tell her everything, she always told it to her friends.

"So, Ichigo." Rukia tried to keep her tone nonchalant and conversational, but he wasn't fooled. "I hear you snagged a couple of hot men last night..." It wasn't a question, more like a statement, and Ichigo couldn't deny the truth behind it.

"I see Rangiku didn't waste any time in babbling our conversation to the both of you..." His face was deadpanned and unfazed as Tatsuki gave a small chuckle.

"Actually, she told Rukia, and Rukia just informed me as we were walking up the classroom door."

"Of course, it seems every girl I run into is a kinky yaoi fan..."

"Give us something, though!" Rukia started poking his arm. "Come on, please?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes at her begging, wondering just how the hell he was going to weasel his way out from between these two. While it was great to have friends who care, did they really have to crowd around him and demand answers to very decision he made for himself? So he screwed a couple of people... He didn't pry into their love lives. He was there for his friends when they had a bad relationship, but he didn't start babying them and start telling them what to do, and he wished for all the world they would just buzz off. The worried looks, the pep talks, the offers for blind dates, the "I care" speeches, he was done with all of them.

Right now, he only wanted one thing, and that was sex with no connections. Toshiro and Gin provided for that last night, so no one had the right to complain about him being "unhappy."

Ichigo was granted relief from further persecution when Professor Rose walked in. Putting his books down on his desk next to a fresh dozen pink roses that stood in a vase off to the side, he greeted his students with a warm smile. It didn't take long for everyone to settle down enough for him to speak. "Good evening, kids." Everyone returned it with concise unity and genuine pleasantry. "Before we begin, I'd like for you to take out your essays." They did so, the people at the end of the rows holding them out for collection as he walked up and down each aisle. Once he'd managed to grab all the papers and stack them at the edge of his desk for future grading, he went to the whiteboard, beginning the day's lesson with a red marker.

The three of them settled into their routines, Rukia and Tatsuki actually taking notes, while Ichigo relaxed with one foot resting on his other knee. He still paid attention, though, just to confirm what he already knew and to be ready if the teacher called on him, which in most cases, he does. But that doesn't usually happen unless someone doesn't understand something, and that's rare in this class. Rukia was quick to pick up on what he was saying right away, and Tatsuki was just smart in general, she usually figured it out before the time class ended. But there was this one girl who almost always didn't understand, he wondered why she hadn't dropped out yet. Music is obviously not her thing. He suspected she had a crush on the teacher or on someone in this class, it must be the only thing keeping her in here.

Someone in the front row and off to his right suddenly stood up, raising their hand. Speak of the devil. Think of her for one millisecond, and she appears. "But you only have seven intervals in a scale, so how do you find the larger intervals?"

"Great question! Those ninth, eleventh & thirteenth notes are extensions of the compound scale..."

He lied. It was a terrible question, anyone in this class should know that by now. As the teacher went on a rant about crap he already knew(the privileges of growing up in a music-oriented family gave him private insight on the subject at a young age), he gave the girl a slight glare and slumped in his seat. The girl was an idiot, who only looked more confused the further Prof. Rose went, and he could see it in Rukia's and Tatsuki's faces, the later leaning in to whisper.

"Even Orihime wasn't this stupid." He had to agree with that, despite not wanting to think about his first girlfriend. Orihime was in the top three of their high school class the last two years they were there, but the first two years, she was in the upper-middle of the pack. However, she was unable to be here annoyed with them because she'd gone to a different school, and with it went their relationship. He'd moped over her for a few months, but they remained friends through e-mail and phone calls. And even though she'd been able to get on with her life and was now in a relationship of three years, he had to wait a while for that luxury. After Orihime, he'd never really found anyone special, until about one and a half years ago. He and Kaien had been pretty happy with their lives, until his boyfriend was murdered just a year ago.

It had been all over the news, Kaien and his family, the Shibas, had been murdered bye an escaped convict raiding their house. The three siblings shared a flat in the city to save them all a huge expense, their parents living out in the country. Ganju and Kukaku were already home, and when Kaien got there, they were long dead. Police confirmed that there was a struggle, and Kaien took the enemy with him, but Ichigo could force himself to be proud of his heroics, because he knew that there was no one on earth able to take his place. Public attention and crowds helped, and maybe someone could temporarily fill the sexual hunger and keep him distracted, but as soon as he's alone, those memories start up again. Every day was an effort for him to stay sane. It's been a year since Kaien's death, and he should be over it now, or so people say, but who were they to judge? Kaien was unlike any other, and Ichigo had truly thought he'd found his soul mate, the other half of his soul, the one he was going to grow old with and adopt children from around the world. Ichigo thought he'd meant three or four... Kaien had actually meant about six or seven. The memory made him grin a little.

With Rukia and Tatsuki scribbling at their notes, Professor Rose moving on to the next topic, and with nothing else better to do, he decided to start doodling in his notebook. Nothing serious, just random squiggles and shapes, something that would keep him lighthearted in front of everyone and wouldn't allow him to sink rock-bottom like he did in private when he usually thought about his deceased lover. The emotion for today is happy, which entailed bright smiley faces, shining stars and arching rainbows for his lined stationery. He thought Rukia might've raised an eyebrow when she glanced over at his paper, but she otherwise didn't say anything, so he ignored her.

During the break, the girls backed off and only talked to him about the mundane things like the lessons in the class, the band's gig this coming weekend, and Rangiku's newest main squeeze. Ichigo thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it and munched on his apple when the girls turned to talking about clothes. Not really his thing. Sure, he knew enough to not look like a slob, but he wasn't interested enough to go girl-deep into fashion. After the second half of class ended, he was once again saved from further inquiry about the other night when the teacher called him down to his desk. The girls gave him suspicious looks but he waved them off as they exited the lecture hall. Once he was standing in front of his professor's desk, he waited for the inevitable questions that was sure to come.

"Ichigo, why are you in my class." No beating around the bush, then.

He shrugged. "Because it'll look good on my Wikipedia page when I'm famous."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. I intend to look like a smart musician, not just another metal-head junkie."

His teacher's eyes squinted in curiosity at Ichigo's obvious sarcasm. "How much of the material did you know from today's lesson?"

Ichigo folded his arms behind his head in a lazy sort of manner. "Pretty much all of it." It was basic stuff to him, droned into him as a kid.

Professor Rose raised an eyebrow. "And you took this class just to make your career look good?"

He managed a small shrug. "Well, why else does anyone take college?" For that exact same reason.

The man let out a defeated sigh, and Ichigo knew he could see the logic behind his side of their conversation. He was itching to get out of here and go somewhere, anywhere, public or private, it didn't matter. Even if it was to his lonely apartment with no one else waiting there for him, he just wanted to be out from being under everyone's microscope today. It was starting to irritate the piss out of him, and if one more person tried to give him advice or spill his dirty little secrets in the bedroom, he was going to pummel them into a bloody, gooey puddle of pulp on the ground.

"Well, as long as you're passing my tests, and turning in the work, I can't get mad at you. Still..." He straightened his papers into a neater stack and stood up, Ichigo following suit and bringing his arms down to grasp at his book bag resting against his feet. He had a feeling he was about to get some advice right now, but he'll forgo punching his teacher. Expulsion and all... "Be careful with how your life is going. You look... not very well. Take a day off, be lazy and not do anything for a day. Just to relax. It's just a suggestion." And with that, he left the room.

Hefting his bag over his shoulder, the orange-top followed him out. Going home and doing nothing was just the opposite of what he really should do, it certainly wasn't going to help any, he knew that from experience. He wouldn't mind tossing himself in between the sheets with Toshiro and Gin again, but it would probably appear rude to interrupt their personal lives just because he didn't want to deal with his own. Besides, he didn't have their contact information. He glanced at his phone just in case, just on the off-change he might've been wrong and that they were free tonight, regardless if their first meeting was barely twenty-four hours ago.

No.

His phoned indicated no new calls, texts. voicemails, or emails while he'd been in the classroom. He was doomed to spend this night like many other nights, alone in his apartment, in the silence, to contemplate the little things such as dusty bunnies running amok under his bed, to important ones like the infinite diversities of alternate realities stacked together like a pressed deck of thousands of cards, to his lack of having a boyfriend.

Groaning, he texted his doctor, mindful of the time. He wanted to make sure it wasn't too late and that he wouldn't be waking her up if she was already home. He did that before and received a long tongue-lashing for it the next time he saw her. His mind was racing again, and those breathing exercises his useless therapist was telling him to do weren't working. They never worked in the first place, and he always thought the idiot would be better off rationalizing family drama and possibly be a guidance counselor, but not his therapist. And he was going to need a refill on his prescription again, lest she wanted his rage issues to come back in full force, and he knew neither of them wanted that.

He only had to wait a couple minutes before she texted him back. "I have an open schedule tomorrow morning. If you don't work, I can get you in my office at eight."

No, he didn't have tomorrow off, but if he called in sick, he could get a doctor's note easily. She wouldn't mind. She was kind of like him in his younger years, and a little worse, a troublemaker. And even though she knocked him on the head every time for stupid behavior, she understood. He responded, saying he'll come tomorrow, that he did have work, but he would skip out. The owner didn't really care much if people call in, as along as it was two hours before their shift.

Wit tomorrow morning's plans set in stone, he tucked his phone back into his pocket as he headed to a part of town he really shouldn't be heading in. Sure, the neighborhood wasn't the best, but it wasn't exactly the worst, either, as cop car routinely ran through the area at night alone. The sun was setting in the sky, just barely peeking over the horizon as the rest of the night darkened. It would be about this time that they would start circling. He knew this, because he used to live in this neighborhood, that's why he shouldn't really come here. He used to live just down the street from Kaien, and his apartment was probably still wrapped up in crime scene tape...

When he arrived at the large building, he frowned at the dilapidated and abandoned state it was in. No one was here, or at least, there were no lights on to indicate there were people still living here. Looking up to the top floor balconies, he could see a strip of yellow tape billowing in the wind from where Kaien's living room should have been. Unsure of what to do with himself, he stood rooted to the spot, rubbing an arm to try and shake off the "willies" he was getting from this close proximity to the building. He was already here, he should go inside. No, he shouldn't go inside, but he wanted to, and that is exactly what he did. Straightening his posture and mentally smacking himself to pull it together, he stepped purposefully down the sidewalk to the entrance of the build. How many times had he greeted to doorman on his way in? He couldn't even remember that much. He tried the handle and it gave way, allowing him to walk over the threshold.

Entering the small lobby, he remembered the girl in the desk chair always trying to flirt with him, to get him to leave his boyfriend and hook up with her, but she always said it with a smile and a wink, obviously joking around with him. She would always take pictures of them when they go out and make copies for them. How many did she take over the course of their relationship? He had lost count. Not trusting the elevators, he took the stairwell up to the top floor, his feet echoing every stair he took. A dreadful feeling was creeping up his spine, increasing as the floor numbers got higher, until he reached the tenth level. When he was at the door that led to the top floor's hallway, he was finding himself again standing stiff-still, but not because of the "heebie-jeebies." His entire body was rigid with rampaging emotions, from sadness, to love, to pain, to happiness. All of his memories were flooding back to him, and they made him want to smile. But now, this place wanted to make him cry, because those happy memories will no longer be here for him, and he'll be unable to make new ones. Now, this place will be nothing but a death trap, a place of murder, forever remembered because of that fateful day.

Swallowing to try and ease the tension in his closing throat, he reached out and pulled open the door in one big swing, kind of like ripping a bandage off in one big jolt, but this was only the scrape. The bloody gauze and medical tape would come later, when he was at the apartment door. He looked around the hall. It was just as he remembered, if not dusty and dirty from being abandoned for so long. A year is hardly a long time for something to be abandoned, but the place looked like had been abandoned for ten years. His hand touched a painting on the wall, an abstract of black, aqua and purple primarily, and speckled in certain places with orange, brown and yellow. He'd always liked this painting. His fingers came away dusty, a thick streak now running vertically to the bottom. He should steal this at some point, since no one else cared about it.

Stealing himself, he turned to where he knew the apartment was, he could walk there blindfolded if he wanted, but then he would miss all the memories that came with seeing this old place again. An example would be one night, when his siblings were away, he and Kaien were making out and trying to go down the hall at the same time, both of them rolling around on the walls, trapping the other in an embrace, and a knee massaging a groin, hands were touchy-feely, and moans echoed throughout the narrow space. There was a dent in the wall further down from when Ichigo had accidentally banged his guitar case against it, and little crayon drawings when a couple of Kaien's nieces had come over and gotten away from them for a while because they'd been... distracted. Ichigo allowed himself a small chuckle when he saw the door handle. There were scrapes from when Kaien was too heady with lust to actually insert the key properly, and he'd made some sort of cheeky comment about having trouble inserting other things, as well, and that had led to a really hot make-out session right there on the floor, serious fondling and grinding hips, nipple tweaking and an almost-blowjob.

But all laughing matters grew solemn when he opened the door, and the first sight to greet him was a bloodstained carpet. He ignored the trashed apartment inside. He didn't venture further in to find the other bloodstains that littered the hallway and bedrooms. He was fixated on this one. This is where they'd found him. This was all that remained of Kaien in this world. Of course, his body was buried, but that was in the family plot in another part of the country, one that he was banned from visiting. Kukaku and Ganju were fine with the firm relationship Ichigo and Kaien were in, but their parents did not share their sentiment, not even at Ganju's birthday, when he and his girlfriend announced they were getting married. It was kind of surprising their parents even came down that day, they hated the city. But when the murder happened, they found someone to take the brunt of their anger: Ichigo.

He released his bag, letting it land still halfway in the hall, and moved almost mechanically toward the dark stain, unable to stay away from it, drawn to it like a frantic moth fluttering to a single, candle-lit flame trapped in the darkest oubliette. Next thing he knew, he was falling. First to his knees, then to his hands, all in the span of just a few seconds until his entire body was flush against the floor. It was old, growing dusty and moldy over course of the owner's neglect until it was in its current unkempt state, and smelled painfully of sorrow, sacrifice and murder.

He couldn't bring himself to care. If anything, he buried his nose further into the rough carpet. This was his only emotional connection left, until new owners demolish it, he was going to keep coming here, to this very spot. And he was going to cry as much as he wanted, scream until his throat was raw, and kiss that bloody residue until his lips became chapped. He could already feel the tears coming as he slid his hand across the patchy fibers to lay lovingly in the center spot, the last place Kaien had drawn breath. Sometimes he wondered if he even had anymore tears to shed, but his body never failed to answer that as soon as he came here, to reconfirm that yes, he was human, he was still in love, and he was not alright. Out there, everyone saw him. Popular, smart, talented, arousing. Here, none of that mattered.

Here, he would sleep. His form would curve to frame that spot of death, and he would have no nightmares. Here he would sleep, and dream about happier days.


End Chapter two. -Bows-