The small taichou swallowed back nausea before answering. "That's my shoe. Well, it was when I was alive."

Ichigo's heart stopped. "W-what?!" He cried out.

Toushiro kept his eyes closed and his breath hitched. He clenched his lips tightly together, fighting back the urge to vomit again. He'd been taken by surprise- he never expected his past, his mortal life, to come and slap him in the face out of nowhere. It was worse than a surprise attack by a hollow. The things the professor oh so matter of factly described in there had been his reality. He'd lived through it, had it done to him. His little feet had been bent and broken when he was alive. He never forgot it, but he never dwelled on it, either. It was done- he was long dead, his flesh rotted off his corpse long ago. But to have it thrown in his face so suddenly like that, especially that shoe…

The boy's breathing was getting more and more erratic by the second, and his trembling turned into violent shuddering. Ichigo rubbed his back, stroked his hair, and whispered calm words to him. Toushiro clung to him like a life line, and gradually, oh so gradually, he calmed down under Ichigo's gentle and consistent administrations.

Ichigo kissed the top of his head; Toushiro's face was buried against him, so he had no access to the boy's face. He blocked his own feelings out- he was horrified and morbidly curious. Toushiro obviously had had his feet bound, and that had to have occurred while he was alive. As he rubbed the white haired boy's back, Ichigo couldn't stop himself from staring at Toushiro's small, perfectly formed feet that dangled in the air. Because of his trembling, one flip flop had fallen off, and the other was barely hanging onto his baby toe.

The tiny taichou quieted down. His slim body was still, breathing gentle and hardly noticeable. The only sign of life was the small fist tightly clinging to Ichigo's maroon t-shirt. Ichigo pulled Toushiro back slightly so that he could see the boy's face. Toushiro mewled in protest, little hand tightening further, twisting into the t-shirt. Ichigo kissed his forehead then ran the calloused pad of his thumb over the boy's soft cheek.

Dark eyelashes fluttered open; the teal orbs were glazed as Toushiro relived long buried and forgotten memories of the past, of his life. At least they were no longer bright with pain. Toushiro had calmed down and was recovering from the shock; Ichigo was flooded with relief and held the boy that much tighter.

"Toushiro…" He started, but had no idea what to say. Yes, he wanted to know what happened in Toushiro's life, but he wasn't just going to blurt it out- the taichou would tell him when he was ready. He wouldn't risk pushing Toushiro away.

Toushiro blinked, eyes clearing and gazing up at the boy cradling him in his arms. "Ichigo." His voice was soft, barely audible. Memories lingered; he was still trying to push them back into the recesses of his mind.

"Okay?" Ichigo asked lamely, struggling for something, anything, to say.

Toushiro nodded then paused, afraid Ichigo was going to pull away now. His eyes cleared a little more; he was coming back to himself. "Ichigo…" Those mesmerizing eyes started to get bright again, and Ichigo grew worried. "Don't let go of me. Not yet."

Ichigo clutched him tightly, whispering fiercely into the boy's ear, "Never."

Toushiro smiled softly up at him, but it was tinged with sadness. "Thank you."

Ichigo melted, his hold gentling around the boy. He didn't really want to go back into the lecture- that class didn't let out for another hour! He was quite certain Toushiro didn't, either. He wasn't fond of the idea of hanging around in the public bathroom all day, either. He'd much rather curl up at home with Toushiro snuggled in his lap.

He smiled back down at Toushiro, then wiped the pretty face with his hand, trying to clean him up. Toushiro hadn't cried, but he'd been really shaken up. His skin was blotched and too pallid for Ichigo's liking. "Why don't we get cleaned up a bit and get out of here?"

When Toushiro nodded his ascent, Ichigo carried him over to the handicap sink, which had a wider ledge than the other sinks. Toushiro's small butt just fit on the porcelain ledge. Turquoise eyes shot wide; the boy gasped softly, small fists latching onto Ichigo's shirt once more. Ichigo still held him close so the taichou leaned into his chest, his strong arms wrapped safely around him. He nuzzled the top of Toushiro's thick, spiky hair and the boy relaxed.

Ichigo kept one arm wrapped securely around Toushiro's slim waist and turned the tap on with his free hand. He waited until the water got warm, nibbling playfully at strands of Toushiro's hair. The small boy snorted and tried to pull his head away, but he was held firm to Ichigo's chest. He settled for clamping a dainty hand over Ichigo's mischievous lips, but the orange haired boy nipped at his fingers. "Hey!" Toushiro yelped and pulled back. Ichigo smirked.

Toushiro's startled cry was abruptly cut off by a large hand sopping with warm water scrubbed over his face. He coughed, glaring at Ichigo. "Not funny."

Ichigo just smirked, then yelled in surprise when Toushiro turned the tables. "Hey!" Toushiro buried his wet face into Ichigo's chest, wiping the water on his shirt. Fresh faced, he pulled back and smiled smugly. "Serves you right."

Ichigo snorted and pulled away. Toushiro gasped as the bigger boy's cocooning warmth left him. Startled, he latched onto the sink ledge to keep from slipping off. Ichigo came out of a stall with a roll of toilet paper in his hand. The bright cerulean hue tinged the turquoise orbs again, enhancing their beauty but making him look so sad.

Still keeping him seated on the sink ledge, Ichigo wrapped a comforting arm around Toushiro again, holding him close. The sad hue faded at the contact, but small fists twisted in his shirt, as if to prevent him from pulling away again. He kissed a soft, pale cheek, and Toushiro snuggled against him, but refused to let go.

Ichigo held him in the crook of his elbow, so both hands were free. He just couldn't move the arm wrapped around Toushiro. In that hand he placed the toilet paper roll; with the other, he unwound a long strip. He used his knee to bring one of the boy's slender, short legs up then wrapped the strip sloppily around a dainty ankle.

"What the hell are you doing?" Toushiro's head turned to the side, cheek pressed to Ichigo's chest and fists still clenching the shirt. He looked down as Ichigo kept wrapping his ankle with toilet paper.

"Well, this way, if people see me carrying you, they won't question it." Ichigo's brown eyes flicked to Toushiro's exasperated face. "They'll think you hurt your ankle."

Toushiro snorted. "But toilet paper?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It's the best I could do."

Toushiro rolled his eyes then looked away.

"Hey, you can always walk, you know." Toushiro stiffened, small hands jerking in Ichigo's shirt. Ichigo's smirk died, and he kissed Toushiro's cheek to reassure him. The boy definitely was not okay yet. He continued to wrap the ankle until it looked passably bandaged then carelessly discarded the rest of the toilet paper roll into the sink.

He had to bend down to get Toushiro's shoes, but the small boy still held onto him tightly. He rubbed Toushiro's knuckles lightly. "Just let me get your shoes, kay?" The boy hesitated, then nodded.

Ichigo bent down, keeping one hand on a bony knee as he grabbed the flip flops and shoved them into a large pocket on his khaki cargo shorts. He lingered over Toushiro's feet; they were small and perfect, just like the rest of him. Long fingers wrapped around the tiny appendage not covered in toilet paper. His foot was about as big as Ichigo's hand, and the orange haired boy stroked it tenderly, admiring it. So dainty and pretty- how could anyone want to warp it? He bent his head and pressed his lips to the warm, soft skin of the instep. He felt Toushiro shudder.

"Ichigo." He raised his head; short, lithe arms reached for him. Ichigo stood up, gathering Toushiro to him. He was surprised when those arms wrapped around his neck, and petal soft, pink lips pressed gently to his own. He took control of the kiss, keeping it gentle as he carried Toushiro out of the bathroom.