Toshiro

I woke up the next morning, thanking everything I could that it was Sunday. I was too exhausted from last night to even think about school.

I swallowed through my sand paper throat at the memory of last night, avoiding his voice, touch, pretending to be asleep or otherwise dead. Some days I really did regret my life and what was burdening it. I wanted all of it to go away, all of it. I never asked for this and never asked him to be in my life. My hand clutched and I immediately pulled back at the sensation of my fingers hitting solid. My cell phone gleamed back at me. Five foggy imprints were left on its surface from my sweaty hand.

I rolled onto my back and groaned at the pain in my spine. I knew I didn't move; I never moved when he came around. My eyes traced the chicken scratch lines of the ceiling, making images out of them, until my heart skipped a beat. The room had gone chilled and no air circulated in the room. One of them was close.

My limbs felt shell shocked like I hadn't used them in years, stiff and yielding. I clambered over to my closet and quickly put on a pair of jeans and a black shirt, halfway doing it down the stairs.

I had to get out of my house. In a way I liked and hated school. Of course I didn't like it. It was school but it gave me haven from what I was cursed with, to be free from those lingering wisps. And Kurosaki. He was there. I felt safe around him but he knew nothing, nothing of the torture. Ignorance is bliss.

As I shuffled down the stairs I punched in a text to Ichigo:

Can I come over 2day? Want 2 get out of the house.

I clicked my phone shut and almost immediately my phone vibrated:

Sure. Need pick up?

I answered back:

No. Ill take cab. B there in a min.

I shut my phone and ran into the kitchen. My mother stood with her back facing me, her long ash-blonde hair hung limply at her shoulders. Her hands had gone boney from stress and from working over time to keep our lives stable. She had lost her husband -who had disappeared and is probably in Vegas with some hooker and never coming back- and her son, me, was screwed up because of the absence of a fatherly figure, telling stories as a kid that I saw things, people, and dreams that others never hear or see. I had trusted my mother, told all of my secrets, all of my tortures, and all she did was cry, slap me in the face and told me to do something better with my life than lie like my miserable father. So after that, I kept closed. I didn't tell anyone about anything that was happening to me. I just had to endure it.

I slipped by and grabbed an apple, trying to slip by without my mother noticing, when a thin hand grasped my wrist. Her fingers were thin but long and strong. My wrist wouldn't budge.

"Where are you going?" she angled her chin towards the apple. "You need to eat more than just that. Your thin."

"I know, but I want you to have a good breakfast. I'm going to Ichigo's, just to get out of the house." my eyes met her's. What used to be sparkling emeralds were now dying moss, all shimmer and life in those eyes had been sucked away. Both my parents had had beautiful dark eyes, green and hazel. Not like mine. Mine were a light aquamarine, sometimes a transparent ice blue, especially after my dreams. People said they were beautiful, but I hated them. They were what had given me my curse. My curse to see. And my hair didn't even resemble anything in their gene code: father had black hair mother had blonde hair. Mine was white. Ghost white. I hated all of it but I never hung on it for too long, at least blessing my parents for their facial genes for not making my face look like a jigsaw piece.

My mother continued to grasp my wrist, staring into my eyes, until she finally seemed to realize what she was doing. Her head snapped back like she had been in a trance and she pried her hand from my arm, leaving a faint pink lining like thick bracelets where her fingers had been.

She sighed and placed a gentle hand on my bruised wrist. "I'm sorry, sweet-tart. I just want you to be safe." her eyes lifted, a rim of tears laced her bottom lashes. "I guess I'm just like any other mother, eh? Wants to hold onto their baby for all their life." I kissed her on the cheek instead of using words to describe my love for her, and that I was always going to be there for her and left through the door.

Our apartment was found in a rusty complex. It was the only one we could afford. The room we had bought was the cheapest but for a reason: it was in shambles. But the neat freak in both of us came out and saved the house. It actually didn't look too bad, furnished in more classic and simple furniture and no bugs to be found because of our OCD spray-n-scrub schedule. And the best part about it, it made my mother happy. She loved to spend that time with me and I loved spending it with her. The memories brought happy tears to my eyes.

I crossed the street and hailed a cab. A yellow cab screeched right next to me and would have chopped off my toes if I had not jumped back. I got in the back and looked up at the rearview mirror which revealed a middle eastern looking man, a bushy porn 'stache in place.

"Where are you going?" I choked down my laughter as I realized he sounded exactly like Borat.

"Beach Front Complexes."

The ride swerved along. I managed to bang my head against the close in walls so many times I probably would have been diagnosed with a coma if I stayed in any longer. As I clutched the leather of the seat and waited for my stomach to stop rolling around, we halted to a stop in front of the large condo building.

"Thanks." I handed him fifteen bucks and he sped off again. I trotted up the stairs to a lobby fancied in white marble, mirrored walls, and aqua and white striped furniture. Shell lamps and coral sculptures sat in pots in a palette of pastel color. I walked over to a pillar that was outlined with cushions and sat down, waiting for my friend.

A goggling girl with orange hair oodled at me, jaw dropped. I waved and her grey eyes fluttered and she twinkled her fingers back. Strange.

Giggles continued to pervade through the room when I felt a large hand pat my shoulder.

"Looks like she likes you." Ichigo said, winking and nudging me in the arm. I shoved him back with my shoulder. "A lot of girls have an eye for you."

I looked at him skeptically, one brow cocked up. "That's one girl, Ichigo. Doesn't mean I'm beast."

Ichigo's eyes widened and he made a strange strangled hum like he was asking me something in disbelief. I kept walking past him towards the elevator and pressed the up button. Ichigo continued to look at me with his silly mask.

We got onto the elevator when it opened and he pressed the number five without looking, eyes still glued to me.

I finally turned around. "What?" He smiled. He raked a hand through his hair as we stepped out onto a platform.

"Nothing. " he said, reaching in his pocket to pull out a key adorned with a smiley face keychain. "Just think it's funny how you don't think yourself attractive." He pushed the door open and stood aside to allow me pass.

"Well I've got white hair, Ichigo. I look like a midget grandpa from ass view." I turned my back to him and pointed at my hair.

Ichigo closed the door and reached over to ruffle my hair. "Naw. Ish cute." I smiled and swatted at his hand. He passed me, snapped his fingers at the couch to order me to sit down (with his usual bossy and possessive attitude), and ran into the kitchen to make drinks.

I stretched out on the couch. To my disappointment, my whole body didn't even fit on the couch. Too small. Sigh. I crossed my arms behind my head and yawned. I loved being here. It was safe and I never got any problems. I took in the scent, strawberry and a light waft of soap. It was refreshing.

Ichigo, I had to say, really had a way in decorating. It wouldn't fit me but it definitely fit his all over the place style. The couches and chairs were blocky, no curve to their edges, and in solid, out there colors. The walls were a dark grey but adorned with artistic mirrors bent in vertigo shapes. Everything was made out of stainless steel or glass, even the flowers sticking out of the metallic vase were made out of fantastically crafted metal and glass. It was so quirky, but I loved it. Even the ceiling was carpet.

"Quite complimentary of me, Kurosaki." I teased. "You got man love for me?" I looked over at him. His back was to me, stiff, but he didn't seem to have heard my response.

"You want honey in your tea?" he asked.

"Sure."

Ichigo came over to the living room and handed me my drink before sitting down in his bunny faced egg chair. The shock of orange hair on his head mashed down as he slid farther into it, sipping on his drink contently.

The day passed by comfortably as we talked, joked, and watched TV. Nothing relaxed me more than being by my friend, my best friend. He knew exactly what to do and say to calm my frayed mind, to shut off the other side of my sight. This was home.

Ichigo stood up and stretched. He walked over to the glass balcony door and slid it open. The briny air mingled with the strawberry scent of his home. I blew the fluttering locks of my hair out of my face. Ichigo plopped down on the floor and beckoned me over with a finger. I obeyed and crawled off the couch as a Velcro ball smacked me in the face. Ichigo stuck his tongue out and hurled another ball at the ceiling. I heard the shtuk as it stuck to the carpeted roof. I tossed mine and it stuck next to his.

Ichigo laid back as I made it over to his side. "When you gotta go?"

I looked down at my watch and felt the dark orange light of the evening rest on my skin. It was seven thirty already. My eyebrows knitted together and I looked at him apologetically. "About now. It's late."

Ichigo's expression melted. "Oh.. Ok."

I wanted to tell him that I could stay longer, and I wanted to, but I couldn't. My mother would expect me to be home and I didn't want to scare here or shatter her heart anymore than it already was.

"I'm sorry. My mom's-"

"Waiting?" he finished. "Yeah. I know. Well, I'll give you a ride then."

We got to his red sports car and popped off onto the road. When we made it to my rickety home, we got out and he followed me up the crumbling stairs to my apartment.

In the haunting yellow glimmer of the electric lanterns, Ichigo was quite handsome, I had to admit. His jaw line and cheekbones stood out and held a more masculine touch than mine did. Mine were thin and streamlined but not as bold as his facial features.

Ichigo looked down at me when he noticed me looking with his chestnut eyes. "I'm coming in to say sorry to your mom for keeping you so long. I know how much she loves you."

I tried to quench the firing blush on my cheeks as I smiled. "Thanks…" My answer drifted off as I saw him, standing on the roof of a near by building and shrouded in shadow. His head cocked slowly to the side as he studied us. I quivered and grabbed Ichigo's arms. His eyes were already looking down at me with concern.

"Ichigo?" my voice wavered. "Can I please stay the night? Please?"

Ichigo seemed both surprised and joyous at my request.

"S-s-sure!" he stuttered. "Let's go tell your mom and get your stuff,"

I nodded and opened the door. My mother looked up from the floor where she was scrubbing.

I passed by my mother, kissing her swiftly. "I'm spending the night." Before she could respond, I ran into my room, scooped up khaki pants, a white button down shirt with a blue tie, shower supplies, pajama pants, and a toothbrush. I threw them in a shamble down into a satchel and quickly trudged out of my room. My mother had removed her gloves, hands on hips, and was talking to Ichigo with a great big mom smile on her face. Good to know she liked him.

"How funny!" she giggled and looked at me adoringly. "It sounds like you two have had a good day." The way she looked at us side by side made me uncomfortable, like we were some newly wed couple.

I cleared my throat. "So." I pressed. "Can I?"

My mother's eyes fixed down at me and she nodded, wiping a few strands of her buttery hair off of her forehead. "I can trust you and your friend to get to school and not skip. So.." she bent down and clasped each side of my face, kissing each cheek. "Just get some sleep and have fun." She stood back up and patted Ichigo adoringly on the shoulder. "You too, sweetie."

Both Ichigo and I waved as we left. Once we got out of the door, I grasped his hand and dragged Ichigo down the stairs in record time towards the car. I wanted to get both me and Ichigo away from him. I didn't want him getting hurt.

"What's-" he tried to ask but I pushed on and got into the car. He started the engine and turned to look at me while resting his arm on the steering wheel. "What's wrong, Toshiro? Did-"

"J-just drive!" I yelped. He looked at me for a good second and finally turned around and raced out of the lot. The whole ride was silent but fast. We parked in the condo parking lot and I tried to get out of the car but the locks shifted downwards, locking me in. I turned to see Ichigo with his hand on the switch, staring at me with a hard expression. I shrank at the intensity of his gaze.

"What did you see?" his tone was demanding.

I hesitated. "Nothing." I wanted to tell him so bad but I couldn't. I didn't want to loose the only friend I had.

I jumped when Ichigo's warm hand slid over mine and held it comfortingly. "No." his voice was still stern but comforting. "It wasn't. There was something."

I just stared at his eyes, wanting to belt out everything but not wanting to make him think I was crazy. Tears bit at the backs of my eyes and I shook my head. "I can't talk about it now. Please."

I looked up and found pain and longing in my companion's eyes. A tentative stroke filmed over my hand. "Ok." he said gently and he took out his keys and got out of the car. I still sat there, shocked and hit hard, emotionally, at his understanding. I was brought out of my paralysis when Ichigo rapped his finger on the window.

We got up to the fifth floor and into his cozy apartment. I felt no stagnant air, no random chill. Everyone of my usually tense muscles relaxed.

Ichigo showed me to the bathroom. "Go take a shower. You'll feel better." he smirked at me and patted me on the shoulder, telling me it was going to be alright. I nodded and stepped into the room. Everything was silver and black. Stainless steel was every working waterworks and décor. I liked it.

I turned the knob of the shower and peeled my clothes off. The warm water soothed me. I let it run over me for a while before doing anything, just enjoying its comfort. I quickly shampooed my hair and washed my body and then just sat in the tub. My back caught the sprinkling drops from the shower head, loosening up my vertebrae. I ran my hands over my face. I needed comfort. I wanted someone to know and to believe. Someone that would help me along the way before this eventually withers me away. I fought with myself, an angel and a devil on my shoulders, for minutes until I just gave up, a new intensity of frustration spilling into my mind.

I haughtily shut the shower off and wrapped a towel around my waist. I looked for my satchel but realized I had left it on the couch. I opened the door and peeked outside. Sure enough, my satchel was laying right there next to Kurosaki, reading some sports magazine in his pajamas. I scurried out and he looked up, doing a double take. I cracked a sheepish smile. I grasped one side of my towel-skirt while my other hand rummaged in my bag for my pajama pants.

I finally got them and noticed Ichigo looking at my abdomen skeptically. I blushed and he responded, "You're not scrawny." his eyes lifted up to meet mine, his hands directing at my torso. "You've got a fucking six pack!" My blush reddened and I giggled like a high cheerleader.

Before I could make myself anymore of a fool, I escaped into the bathroom and changed. I looked into the mirror at my reflection. I guess I was attractive, streamlined features, cheekbones and jaw line prominent, and my eyes were nicely shaped but I guess I just didn't really get it. I rubbed my ab muscles under my black shirt self consciously and exited the bathroom.

Ichigo looked up from his magazine and tossed it onto the coffee table and stood up. I shied away and blushed, still a little fazed by his compliments.

"Well." he started. "You can sleep in my room and I can sleep on the couch-"

"No. That's rude." It was. I didn't want to banish him out of his own bedroom. I looked behind me towards his room. "I guess we can both fit. I'm not going to take up that much space." Ichigo beamed supposedly at my joke and led me into the bedroom.

Unlike the rest of his colorful house, his room was very dark. A dark violet -almost black- comforter laid on a king sized bed against charcoal walls. Ichigo sprung onto the bed and curled into the bed. His arms stretched above him like two flesh colored trees.

"Ugh! I'm bushed. You tired?"

I made my way to the opposite side of the bed and crawled in. "Yeah." I looked over at the tuft of orange hair that was my friend, his face submerged in the blankets. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." he said smartly and immediately fell to sleep. I smiled and followed suit, forgetting about everything.