Nothing happens. Not yet.

Aki was the type to worry too much, as Ichigo came to realise over the next few days.

"Kiddo, come here."

Obediently, Ichigo shuffled to Aki's side.

"This district is considerably dangerous. Though there are a few who are safe to hang out with, many are hot-tempered and you're bound to get into trouble if you aren't careful." He lifted Ichigo onto his lap, to which the boy responded by giggling quietly. "Don't leave the hut when I'm not around, alright?" Aki smiled and ruffled his hair- something Ichigo realised that Aki liked to do a lot.

"Okay."

And so he was confined to the hut, with absolutely nothing to do.

The hut was empty. The futon wasn't much to play with other than stepping, folding or rolling around on, and the floor wasn't much fun, either. Aki wasn't around to entertain him either, to handle some business that sounded suspicious.

That left him with a large, empty house all to himself. Granted, it wasn't exactly big with ten bedrooms or anything like that, but the space void of life was depressing in itself. With everything of such a dull colour and even the flowers wilting, the boredom Ichigo felt quickly subsided into depression.

Being alone with nothing to occupy himself reminded him of how he had nobody other than himself he could depend on. In a foreign land in a foreign world, there was no person he could whole-heartedly trust. Technically, he did have Aki who cared for him, but it wasn't quite the same. He was still a stranger as compared to his siblings and parents. Nothing could compare to the closeness he had with his family.

Aside from that, the environment, too, was completely different. It was much greener and dustier than his neighbourhood. In addition, the overall style when it came to clothing and housing was so out of place that at first, it didn't register in his mind.

When he had left the hut with Aki a few days prior, he'd only let his brain absorb the information with curiosity. All else didn't matter but understanding this exotic new place that was less organised than what he was used to, but still held him captivated. It was a simplistic way of life unlike anything Ichigo had seen, having never left Japan for his entire, short twelve years alive.

Now that there was nothing to do, unwilling as he was, Ichigo had to analyse everything he saw. It wasn't necessity but instinct that drove him to do so. That little part of him knew he couldn't stay in denial when reality was so blatant in telling him that he had lost everything. He was a nobody in this world.

The most recent memory of the outdoors quickly flooded into his mind, painfully reminding him of the foreign land he was in and how frightfully alone he was. The huts all around him, the bareness of the routes, and the style of clothing- the sheer unfamiliarity of his surroundings filled him with pure, unadulterated fear.

Ichigo rolled around on the futon till he was face-up, the ceiling right in his face. He spotted various shades of grey and the occasional lizard darting across.

He was never one to grow afraid of emptiness and loneliness, because always, his family was out there somewhere, silently showing their support. He knew it. This time though, things were different.

He was completely, utterly alone. There was no chance for him to meet his parents and sisters, or even attempt to believe that they were out there somewhere. How possible was it for him to meet his family again? What were his chances?

Ichigo couldn't even lie to himself when it came to this question. In a place such as Soul Society where thousands, millions, or even billions lived, if the odds of finding relatives were near zero in the entire history of this world, what could he do?

It was unrealistic to depend on the support of people no longer around him. Even if he did, if ever the time came where he could take it no longer and needed somewhere to support him emotionally, as was always the case, who would be there for him?

Since young, he had always been a bit more emotional than other boys his age. Crying at little things, just from losing a match or scoring low marks for tests, he had earned himself the nickname of "cry baby". It had become so commonly used that even Ichigo hadn't bothered to fight it out and try to prevent the atrocious use of the name from spreading.

As unmanly as it was, he didn't really mind the names as long as he had his mother around. Ever since Karin was born, all attention was focused on her. Inevitably, Ichigo would get envious, sometimes being a little mean by stealing the little baby's stuffed giraffe. Of course, he did feel guilty in the end, though, giving in and returning the toy and teasing her with it. That defeated the purpose of taking away the giraffe in the first place, but he couldn't help but feel that he was being awfully immature.

That aside, the crying reminded his mother of his existence and that he may be older, but he still wanted to be loved and pampered.

She always complied.

With no exception, she would always run her fingers through his orange spikes, whispering comforting words to him, engulfing him in comfortable warmth. He remembered it well. Unlike his father, always loud and unhelpful in making him feel better, she was soft, quiet and the type who would simply hold him close and waited for him to calm down. Sometimes, people needed the silence- something his father would never realise.

What was with the random outbursts his father had? Even during trips to the beach for picnics, he would run around on the sand, furiously chasing down Ichigo, claiming it to be some solid exercise in preparation for the future athlete he saw in his son. What kind of reason was that? More often than not, he was mad as his father for being so infuriating that it wasn't something he could laugh at. Being exposed to these antics for long periods of time didn't seem to do his IQ nor EQ any good.

Then came the topic of wooden tops.

His father found it amusing to tease him and annoy him over wooden tops. How ridiculous was that?

He could replay the scene in his mind, the memory so vivid it could have happened just a day before.

Loud chuckles erupted from his father as Ichigo growled. The frustrating old man had deliberately stuck a finger out, hindering the spinning top's movement and closely watched for his reaction. As the top's impressive swirling came to an abrupt end, he had let anger get the better of him and complained to his mother of his apparent annoyance. The childish punches as he tried to convey his exasperation made his anger explode, for no matter how hard, how many times he hit his father, there was still that endearing smile and deep laughter rumbling in his throat.

Ichigo grinned to himself, realising how silly it had been of him to get mad over such an insignificant matter.

The hot prickling in his eyes informed him that tears had gathered in his eyes even as he smiled, the realisation that everything he had taken for granted was actually important to him. What was gone was forever gone. Even if he reached for it, what he grabbed would only be like picking up sand, fine grains disappearing between his fingers.

It hurt.

He couldn't hold the smile plastered on his face any longer. It quickly morphed into the face of a child lost and in despair, and little sobs began to sound in the dim, empty hut.

xxxXXXxxx

It was later in the afternoon that Aki returned, as was his routine. He brought with him a whole lot of wild flowers, with petal size ranging from extra Small to Large.

By then, Ichigo would have no energy to speak to the man. Every morning, the man left for his business. Every day, Ichigo would lose the cheerfulness he once possessed.

At first, it had been mild and almost unnoticeable. That was the time when the truth hadn't fully sunk in.

Days passed, and the hours that Ichigo was left alone gradually increased. With the extra time came the thoughts, and by afternoon, he would always be downright miserable.

It wasn't his fault! Why did he have to go through all of this? Why wasn't it someone else? Why specifically him of all people? Where had he gone wrong? He'd thought through this questions countless times, seeking the answer for this unfairness.

Every single memory of his wrongdoing came to mind, but nothing he did- nothing warranted such treatment!

At that very instant, a sudden flashback took him by surprise.

The girl…

"Well," the girl answered after a brief silence, "I'm here to fish."

Ichigo couldn't help but question her answer. "Fish?"

She stared at him for a long second.

"Like this."

An intense, searing pain down the front of his torso.

Black.

Darkness.

It was mortifying just thinking about it. It had been days or weeks since that attack, but the scene always replayed in his mind, attaching itself to him like a plague. He refused to think too much into the matter, ignoring it so that it remained in the deepest corner of his mind.

It would be ignored and considered forbidden territory. It was the direct cause of him being in this place, and he was sure that he would garner hatred towards that girl. He didn't mind, but as his mother had often told him, "Do not hate, for it will only destroy your life." He would take her advice, but that one day when he found the courage, he would thoroughly investigate it.

It was not only the hatred, but also the fear of what he might find out. The unknown was dangerous, after all.

He smiled wryly at how professional and cool he had just sounded in his mind. There was a sense of achievement that he'd been able to come up with the intelligent sounding questions and thoughts. After all, results-wise, he was always somewhere at the back.

"-go, oi! Kid! Hello, anyone home?" Aki called, shoving the flowers in Ichigo's face. "Damn, kid, how many times have you spaced out on me? You sure you okay?"

Slightly irritated, Ichigo grabbed the flowers and begun to inspect them wordlessly. "I'm okay." He got up from the futon and replaced the wilted roses with a random assortment of flowers. He'd never been into flower arrangement and tried his best imitating bouquets by memory.

"Of course you're okay. When are you not okay?" Ichigo had been moping around for the past weeks and to tell the truth, Aki was getting slightly irritated. True, he needed space, and that's what he'd been given. The only problem was that everything had backfired. Instead of being enlightened and moving on, Ichigo was still stuck in this depressing pool.

He crossed the room and promptly seated himself on the chair, by the table where Ichigo was figuring out which flowers to use. It had been little more than a month since he had found the boy, but he had changed so quickly that it was frightening.

How could it be the same boy that had been so adorable, blushing lightly at all forms of affection he had shown? How could it be the same person who had been so nervous while speaking to him? The person in front of him was mature and quiet, easily irritated and especially so when interrupted while deep in thought. None of that childishness remained, leaving only a solemn boy who bottled up his emotions.

In the first week, Aki had had to comfort him every night as he bawled his heart out. It was a difficult period, and he spent as much time as he could around Ichigo in case he needed someone around. He knew, because he had experienced the very same things many years ago.

In the second week, Ichigo seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that he would no longer be able to see his family. By then, trust had built between him and Aki, and the time they spent together was less of crying and more of comforting. Occasionally, he would burst into tears as he mourned, biting his lip to stifle his whimpers. Attentive, Aki had pulled him into a hug and assured him that he didn't mind- as long as he felt better after that, patting his back at regular intervals.

By the third week, Ichigo was no longer the cry baby. Perhaps he had grown tired of being so weak, perhaps he had pulled himself together, but he had quickly transformed into someone that Aki was a stranger to. He was no longer the clingy child who could not sleep for hours at night, tossing and turning and needing Aki by his side to calm him down.

The new Ichigo was frightening. He had calmly requested that Aki leave, saying that he was alright and smiling with that childish innocence that Aki had so dearly missed.

He knew the wounds of losing someone close could never close so quickly and with such ease, and he did as Ichigo requested. The orange-haired boy was ten, but he was forced to mature much faster than others his age. At that age, already beginning to understand beyond shallow emotions and experiences, Aki had noticed that the boy was something more than just a shy child. Most likely, he had a reason for acting as though starved of attention. Aside from that fact was much more mature than any others he had seen.

Aki had decided to partially return to his normal life, leaving Ichigo alone at home in the mornings. So far, Ichigo had expressed no desire to leave the hut and aside from that one walk weeks ago, he had not taken a step out of the hut.

Well, cooping oneself in the hut was a way to deal with grief, probably.

Aki raised his eyebrows as Ichigo used a flower with a particularly long stalk and wrapped it around the bunch of flowers that had been chosen. That didn't make much sense to him since it was going to be in the vase anyway, but he just let it go.

"Kiddo, what are you going to do with the rest of the flowers? You look you've got plans for them."

"Do I?" Ichigo did the 'final touches' on the flowers and stuffed them into the vase as he replied sceptically. It was a bad job well done. He knew it looked terrible. "How's it?"

"Looking especially bad." Aki grinned, reaching out to poke a blue petal sticking out. "I'm joking. It's just a random guess."

Ichigo gave him the half-annoyed, half-amused look, ending up with a face that made Aki crack up. He rolled his eyes, mood already lightened, and begun to inspect the flowers.

It pleased Aki, knowing Ichigo had not lost his sense of humour. Usually, the child was gloomy and unwilling to speak but on rare days, he would be much more cheerful than before. Joking around was one of the signs of a good mood.

As compared to the first week, he had grown to be more reserved. This ordeal for him was difficult, and Ichigo had not escaped from it completely unscathed. There was a new look to his eyes, now.

It wasn't his physique, but there was something about him that Aki couldn't really identify that had changed. That glint was not particularly frightening, but it showed a hardness that didn't develop till one was well beyond his age.

Aki knew that Ichigo was intelligent, from his conversations with the child. They had often spoken about various subjects with concepts that were not simple to grasp. What was life? What was the meaning and significance of life? Was living in Soul Society 'life' or 'death'?

Ichigo seemed to have decided on something.

At any rate, Aki was content that Ichigo had successfully gotten over the loss of his family, and decided not to probe further.

xxxXXXxxx

It took Ichigo a grand total of three months and fourteen days to be able to handle his grief well.

By Aki's definition, 'well' meant 'acting one's age'. That meant a lot of laughter and a lot of excess energy on Ichigo's part. It was tiring work being young.

It was a rather surprisingly quick transition overall. Ichigo had entered Soul Society like all other souls did, naïve and confused. Though young, he'd been able to cope with the loss of his family without reliance on others, and with a lot of crying, he'd grown stronger.

At one point, he had been so quiet and moody it made Aki and the people around the latter depressed as well. It took some time, but Ichigo managed to lift himself out of that seemingly bottomless pit.

Ichigo was strong.

A/N: Hi! Just in case you're wondering how possible it is for a human to mature this quickly, rest assured, it will be explained in later chapters. Changes in the behaviour (no more giggly kiddy) may seem a bit too extreme as well, but it isn't random.

(Is there anyone willing to help me beta? I'd really appreciate it!)