Author's Note: Just want to clarify, in case people get the wrong idea… Ichigo is not actually a zombie (at least not in this fic). He is 'something else'. The freak-out is for comedy purposes only. So now that you know, read on.
There were many things Ichigo expected to happen upon waking up. Maybe his dad would be there, scolding him for not admitting he was sick in the first place, instead of going to school. Maybe the first face he'd see was that of his doctor, if he'd been out long enough. Or maybe he would have slept through the entirety of whatever illness he had somehow. That would have been a plus.
None of those included waking up here.
He was somewhere dark and slightly damp. The air in the room was stagnant.
There was a man with black hair and circles under his eyes staring down at him, very noticeably disturbed by the fact Ichigo had woken up.
"Ah! Z-z-zombie!" the man cried as he tripped backward over his own feet.
Ichigo scowled at the outburst, sitting up on the… rather uncomfortable metal table. He addressed the man who was now cowering on the floor in a corner with his hands over his head, "You there. Where am I?"
The man made a small 'eep' noise, but answered nonetheless, "Y-you're in Karakura Morgue, sir! P-please, don't eat me, Mr. Zombie!"
Ichigo's brows rose in a bemused expression. He sighed, "Get up. I'm not gonna eat you. I'm not a zombie. There must have been some mix-up or something." A very bad mix-up.
"Oh, but it wasn't!" the man said as he stood, keeping his timid posture as he trembled. "Y-your heart stopped and everything! Cardiac arrest!"
"That's nonsense," Ichigo said as he held his hand against his chest, "my heart is just f—"
Ichigo jolted to a stop. He frantically pat at his chest with both hands. He even tried other pulse points. Nothing. No pulse. No heartbeat.
There was an intense feeling of wrongness that Ichigo couldn't shake as he realized this.
"That… that can't be right," Ichigo muttered as he futilely searched for a pulse point he would not find. "Where— where is it? Where's my heartbeat?" That was when another question dawned on him. "How am I alive right now?!"
The man shrugged unhelpfully, "I don't know. That's why I said you must be a zombie. Are you sure you're not starting to get an insatiable craving for brains?"
Ichigo's brows knit together as he drew back with an incredulous look on his face, "Wh—ye—no! What kind of fucked up question is that?!"
"A realistic one," the man quipped quietly, "never can be too sure when the zombie apocalypse may come."
"Okay, but I'm not a zombie. Honest. I need to hurry so I can tell my family I'm not dead yet," he said, then startled, "oh god, Yuzu and Karin must be devastated… I gotta go!"
Ichigo bolted out the door.
"Hey, you can't just leave! What about my job?!"
"What about your job?" Ichigo asked. "I'm not dead, so you don't need to do your job. Just… I don't know. Go home. Take a chill pill, relax or whatever. Just leave me out of it!"
Ichigo started to leave, but then got a really mean idea. He looked over his shoulder at the man with a dark look in his eye, "And if you tell anyone about what you saw tonight, I'll come back and eat your brain."
"B-b-but you said you're not a zombiiiee!"
He had such a hard time concealing his laughter as he left the man traumatized. It wasn't like he'd actually do it or anything. All in good fun. Hopefully, the guy wouldn't go around blathering to people about some person who woke up without a heartbeat now.
Ichigo arrived home under the dark shroud of night. He assumed it was very late, and yet there was a light on in the house. Just one.
Ichigo went to open the door and was astonished to find it locked.
"Oh right," Ichigo muttered after a moment, "of course it's not unlocked. The only reason Dad never locked it was because I was always out late."
His dad wouldn't continue that habit if he believed Ichigo to be dead. Ichigo didn't want to think about that.
Steeling himself, Ichigo knocked on the door. At first, nothing happened.
Then he heard a clatter and crash from within the house. Stumbling footsteps.
The door opened, "I'm sorry for the delay, I was organizing my son's funeral…"
Downcast, sorrowful, red and swollen eyes with deep and dark circles beneath them slowly looked up. It took a few seconds for realization to set in, then those eyes widened.
"I-Ichigo?!"
Ichigo smirked, "Can't get rid of me that easily, old man."
"You're… you're alive! My son. My son, my boy, you're alive!"
Ichigo nearly fell over when his father tackle hugged him, "Oof! Yeah, yeah. I'm alive."
He really wanted to cherish the moment, but hyperaware of his state as he was, he gently pushed Isshin away after a couple tense seconds of embracing him. He didn't miss the hurt look that flashed in his father's eyes, and it made his heart ache to see it. He couldn't risk letting his father hug him long enough to notice that something critical was missing in his chest.
Isshin straightened up and coughed to clear his throat, "How? How is this possible? I thought you were… d…" he choked on his words momentarily. He bit his lip, swallowed thickly. "Dead?"
Ichigo shrugged, "I don't know, Dad. It's a miracle. I was dead, but I came back."
At least he could answer that truthfully.
Isshin's eyes were tearing up, "My baby boy! You're alive! You're really alive!"
Ichigo shook his head as he chuckled, "I'm glad you're happy and all, Dad, but can we go inside? It's a little chilly out."
"Of course, of course. I'm sure you're exhausted."
The next day was one big emotional roller coaster. Every time he ran into a familiar face, he had to go through the same routine. First came the disbelief, the denial, as they tried to piece together what they were seeing. Then they'd smother him with attention as they finally comprehended they weren't just seeing things. It was all very tiring to him, but he endured it.
Apparently, he'd been 'dead' for a while. Nearly a week, in fact. Plenty long enough for many people to hear the news.
That being said, attending classes was quite the experience. Teachers would stare at him in shock as they saw his previously vacant seat was now filled, all the blood draining from their faces as if they'd seen a ghost (an ironically accurate analogy for the given situation).
He had to conceal his laughter as the teachers attempted time and time again to appear unaffected by the fact that Ichigo was alive and not a corpse rotting six feet under. It wasn't every day a guy came back from the dead.
By the end of the day, Ichigo was exhausted and ready to go home and crash in his bed, but his eyes then caught the date.
Today was the day he and Gin had agreed to meet. He thunked his head down on his desk. Great.
They met at a coffee shoppe. Nothing too fancy, just a humble corner shoppe with a few different brews of coffee and some freshly homemade snacks.
Gin was already seated in a corner booth, his hands clasped around a big, steaming mug. Ichigo strolled right over and slid in the seat opposite of him.
"What you got there?" he asked, nodding at the mug.
"Oh, this?" the silver-haired man held up the mug. "Spiced cider. I know this is a coffee shoppe, but they really do make the best cider in town. Which reminds me, why don'tcha go 'head and pick whatever ya want from the menu. On me."
"O-oh," Ichigo was surprised by the offer. He perused the small menu in front of him on the table, "you're too kind."
"Go on," Gin waved a hand at him, "I'm not short on cash or anythin', so don't ya worry about them pesky prices. Just pretend everythin's free."
Ichigo grinned, a sweat drop rolling down the back of his neck. Easy for him to say. He skimmed the list, "Huh, well… I guess I'll try the caramel macchiato, and can I get a chocolate chip cookie?"
"O' course," Gin said, then flagged down the waitress running around and taking orders. He smiled charmingly at the lady, "hey, ma'am, can I get a caramel macchiato and yer specialty cookie for my friend here?"
Ichigo had no idea what the 'specialty cookie' was, but the waitress's eyes lit up in recognition.
"Right away, sir! Will that be all for you?"
Gin nodded, and she ran off to fill the order.
Ichigo cocked his head curiously, raising a brow at the man, "'Specialty cookie'?"
"Patience, my friend, is a virtue," he replied with a smirk.
Ichigo's brows furrowed and he squinted suspiciously at Gin, "Right… so about why we're here."
Gin held up his hand to stop Ichigo, "No talk of business. Food in yer belly first, then the talkin' comes later."
Ichigo bit his tongue and sat on what he wanted to say. It was a nice afternoon, not too hot, not too cold. Many people were outside, enjoying the sunshine and wonderful breeze. Some were at the park.
He watched as a mother and child casually strolled past by the shoppe window. The girl had an ice cream cone, looked like strawberry flavor.
His order was set on the table beside him with a clunk.
"Caramel macchiato and one specialty cookie!" the waitress announced cheerily.
Ichigo looked back to the table. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping, "This is a cookie?!"
Try lava cake. The chocolate chip cookie made the volcano shape of it and hot, melted chocolate dripping slowly out the opening at the top was the 'lava'. There was a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, as well.
"Yup! Our specialty cookie," the waitress chirped.
"Just try it," Gin told him, "take a bite. I promise ya, it's good."
Ichigo didn't doubt that for a moment. He hesitantly took a bite, "Oh my god," he moaned. Ichigo had never known how heavenly one dessert could be.
"Thought ya would appreciate it. Yer a chocolate lover, am I right?" Gin asked.
"Yes," he answered, trying not to talk with his mouth full. But it was just so good. "Chocolate's my favorite dessert. How did you know?"
"Lucky guess. Now we can talk whenever yer read."
Gin waited patiently, sipping occasionally at his cider while he waited for Ichigo to finish his 'cookie'.
Ichigo finished the last bite and pushed the plate away, "Okay, so about what you know…"
"It's not much, really. I mostly only know secondhand stories. Such as for instance, ya and yer partner are intertwined by Fate herself, and have existed for nearly as long as the world itself. Yer main purpose was to enforce the peace."
"I find that a little hard to believe," Ichigo said after taking a sip of his coffee.
"We all do," Gin agreed, "it's only legend. No one really believes it. Well, not all of it anyway."
"Then why bring it up?" Ichigo frowned. He got the impression Gin was one of those people who enjoyed their riddles.
"Every rumor, every successful lie, has some glimpse of the truth within it," he replied mysteriously.
"So you're saying that it's true?" Ichigo asked, thoroughly confused.
"I didn't say that."
Ichigo narrowed his eyes with a growl, "We are so not playing this game."
Gin grew silent, contemplative as he stared down into his mug. After a pregnant pause, he looked up, "Do ya know of the Arrancar gang?"
The teen gasped, a short inhale of breath, "The new gang that popped up, rumored to be led by Sosuke Aizen himself? I've heard of them, sure. Most people around here have."
"I expected as much, but have ya heard the other rumors?"
This was news to Ichigo. Slowly, he asked, "What other rumors?"
"Ya didn't hear it from me, but they say there's this one member workin' for them. Real strong guy. He's always wearin' a hood and sunglasses, so no one really knows much about what he looks like. I'm not one for poetry, but supposedly, he's got skin and hair as white as freshly fallen snow."
It couldn't be… but it sounded just like him.
"Shiro?!" Ichigo asked incredulously.
"Who knows?" Gin's voice was the epitome of nonchalance. "I hear the guy's Aizen's best hitman though."
Ichigo's face fell, "That doesn't sound like the Shiro I know—"
He froze mid-sentence. Had he really just said what he thought he said? He shouldn't remember Shiro at all. Yet he had spoken of him as if he knew him fondly, as if he unconsciously remembered what Shiro was supposed to be like.
"Curious," Gin commented, "it would seem that whatever made ya forget couldn't erase everythin'."
"Perhaps not," Ichigo replied dully. He shook his head with a sigh, "I still can't remember much of anything though. Just flashes and short bits and pieces here and there. Nothing that can really be strung together to form a coherent story. At least, not yet."
"That's no good."
"No, it's not," he said, scowling, "... hey, you know a lot about the Arrancar."
Gin sipped at his cider with a leisurely pace, then set down his now empty mug, "Yes. Ya could say that. Why ya askin'?"
"You wouldn't happen to know a way that I could… um… infiltrate?"
Gin opened his normally squinted eyes, seemingly permanent smile dropping, "Why would ya wanna go an' do a thing like that?"
"I don't have high hopes, but it's the only lead I've got. If it really is Shiro you're talking about, I need to meet him," Ichigo was desperate. He tried to make Gin see how important this was.
"I might know of a way," Gin admitted after an excruciatingly long minute of silence.
"Great, what is it?" Ichigo perked right up.
"But I can't help ya."
"What?!"
Gin stood up, leaving a few big bills on the table for the waitress, "I must be goin' now. Business meetin' soon, very important."
"You're leaving? Just like that?" he demanded. Ichigo slammed a fist on the table. This wasn't fair. It was like he'd dangled some bait in his face, and just the moment he was interested, snatched it away.
"Yep," the man replied, "oh, and a word of advice to ya… Whatever ya do, don't go searchin' around downtown tonight. Wouldn't want someone slicin' up that pretty lil face of yers. Bye bye now."
Ichigo watched him go and knew one thing was certain.
He had a gang to look for tonight. Screw Gin's warning.
He wasn't searching long before he found himself in a highly familiar situation. Namely, the kind where he was pressed against a wall in a way that had him within a hair's breadth of death. Only this time, he was in a tight stranglehold, pressed hard against the brick wall.
"Sunshine, I thought I told you to quit skulking around here," the same blue-haired man growled from behind him.
No matter how Ichigo struggled, he couldn't get loose.
"Since your first lesson didn't sink in, looks like we gotta do this the hard way," the man said.
He then began leading Ichigo deeper into the alleyway until they reached a heavy looking metal door. It was guarded by a scary looking buff guy who honestly looked like he could effortlessly crush a man's skull…
… with his bare hands alone.
"Yammy, open the door. I need to see Aizen."
"What for?" the man asked, not budging so much as an inch to do as he was told. He sized up Ichigo, "And who's this you got here? I suppose you're wanting me to let him in too?"
"That's right," said his captor, "this here's a little rat that was skulking around instead of minding his own damn business. I figure since I already gave him a warning, I'll just take him straight to the boss for judgement. Ain't that right, sunshine?"
Ichigo scowled at the man, "Fuck you!"
The stranglehold tightened impossible, shutting Ichigo up, "Temper, temper, sunshine. What language! I ought to wash your mouth out with soap for that."
The man guarding the door, Yammy, laughed at Ichigo's expense, "Okay, fine. I'll open the door."
Yammy did just that, and then Ichigo was being shoved into what looked to be a spacious warehouse. Inside were several people, some of which had visible numeric tattoos. Ichigo felt unnaturally cold as he realized he'd stumbled right into the exact place he'd been looking for, but not in the way he'd wanted to.
This was the Arrancar hideout.
A smug brunette man in a black suit, hair slicked back, stepped forward. He didn't even give Ichigo a second glance as he made eye contact with Ichigo's captor.
"What's this you've brought to us?" he asked.
"Some kid that was getting a little too close. This is the second time I've caught him coming so close to the entrance of the hideout. He wasn't deterred last time, so I figured I'd see what you wanted to do with him."
"Put him in a cell."
Oh hell no! He felt an intense rush of adrenaline, fight or flight kicking in, and damned if he wasn't going to at least try to escape.
Ichigo stomped as hard as he could on the blue-haired man's foot, thankfully managing to catch him off guard. His hold loosened, a string of curses falling from his lips, but Ichigo didn't pay that much mind. He spun around, sending an elbow into a spot at the man's center.
It winded him, and he was forced to let go of Ichigo entirely.
Ichigo saw his chance. He made a run for it.
"Fuck!" the blue-haired man wheezed from the floor, "You little bitch!"
There was something niggling at the back of his mind, as if he was forgetting something important. Ichigo threw open the door, and then he remembered what that important thing was.
"Going somewhere, shorty?"
His eyes slowly trailed up the gigantic mountain of a muscular man until they fell on the man's smirking face. Yammy cracked his knuckles against his palm.
Ichigo chuckled nervously, turning to look for another escape route.
However, as he turned, he was mercilessly tackled by the man he'd only just escaped from.
"You'll regret that, sunshine," he growled in Ichigo's ear.
Ichigo's breaths were coming in short gasps. He searched frantically for something he could use to escape. There weren't any nearby things he could weaponize.
There was the metallic click of handcuffs from behind him.
He was screwed.
Ichigo watched the crowd of Arrancar gathering around.
Among the people there, watching as he was restrained, Ichigo caught a familiar face. That face gave him a fleeting feeling of hope that he seized like the life line it might have truly been.
"Gin!" he cried.
The man with slicked back brown hair turned a calm gaze on the silver-haired man wearing his fox mask, "The boy knows your name, Gin…"
Gin shrugged with a light laugh, "He wouldn't be the first."
This sent a wave of panic rushing through Ichigo. His face fell, but the sorrowful expression was soon replaced by blazing fury, "Gin! Why are you lying?! Tell them I haven't done anything—"
"Look, kid," Gin stepped forward, fisting a hand in orange hair to force Ichigo to look up at him, "it's cute an' all that ya think ya know me, but yer gonna get me in trouble if ya keep it up. I dunno why ya know my name, but if ya don't shut yer trap, I'll do it for ya."
Ichigo gulped audibly, an irrational fear overcoming him, "Gin? I-I don't underst—"
Ichigo was interrupted by Gin's fist slugging him across the face, "I said shut up. Let that be a warnin'."
The punch had sent Ichigo toppling out of his captor's grip and onto his side. No one bothered to pick him back up, so he just lay there helplessly with his cheek pressed against the stone floor. He watched from his sideways perspective as Gin turned back to the others.
"Put 'im in a cell."
With that, he was roughly pulled up from the floor by his shoulders and shoved forward, "Get moving."
It was the same blue-haired guy who'd dragged him in here in the first place. Hands cuffed together as they were, Ichigo knew he stood no chance. He just obediently walked forward until they got to a set of stairs.
"What are you waiting for? We're not there yet. Move it," the last two words were emphasized with a strong kick to his lower back.
Ichigo gasped for breath and teetered on the edge of the step, terrified for a fleeting moment that he'd fall down every single one of them. He saw his life flashing before his eyes as he started to fall, but then he was roughly grabbed by the back of his shirt.
"Ugh, you can't even take a single kick properly. Get down those damn stairs, now," the man said, grumbling to himself as Ichigo obeyed.
At the bottom of the stairs were the cells. They were all empty. He was led to the first one and locked inside.
"Nighty night, sunshine. Hope you enjoy your stay… it's gonna be a long one…"
There wasn't even a bed…
Again, he was leaving. For how long, Ichigo knew not, but as he watched Shiro's back gradually getting farther away, he couldn't stop himself from calling out.
"Shiro, wait!"
The pale man turned and waited, an expectant expression on his face.
Ichigo gulped, "K… Can you kiss me like you used to?"
There was a peculiar expression of utter shock on Shiro's face for a moment. It soon broke out into the widest grin.
"O' course, Ichi!"
He couldn't help but smile back as Shiro came back and kissed him softly. Shiro was still the same old Shiro.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen, Ichi…"
Ichigo knew that voice. He moaned in pain as he rolled over on the cold stone floor. He opened one bleary eye.
Wrapped around two of the bars of his cell were long, slender white fingers, each tipped with black nails. Ichigo looked beyond those hands to a painfully familiar face.
Ichigo's first attempt at speech was miserable. His throat was terribly parched, so when he did manage to speak, his voice came out raspy, "Shiro…?"
"In the flesh," he replied, "never expected to see ya here of all places."
"Yeah…" Ichigo trailed off. He gave Shiro a weak smile, "I got backstabbed."
Shiro snickered softly, "Tell me 'bout it… Ah, let me guess. Ichimaru Gin."
"How'd you know?!"
"That snake is the trickiest bastard in the Arrancar. Aizen's righthand man, a matter o' fact."
"He was leading me by the nose from the start then?" Ichigo asked pitifully.
It just figured. He took one step forward only to realize after the fact that he'd already taken three steps back, and that just landed him here. In a cell. The only foreseeable positive to the situation was that he'd finally found Shiro. For what it was worth.
"Most likely. On the bright sides, I might know a way to get ya outta here. Don't count on it though. And if I got a way, it'll take a while," Shiro informed him.
Suddenly, someone was coming down the stairs. Shiro slipped a pair of sunglasses out of his hoodie pocket and put them on, pulling his hood down farther to better conceal his appearance.
"Oi, Zero! Get your ass upstairs. Aizen's calling for you," said the blue-haired man as he came up behind Shiro. The man was giving Ichigo the stank eye, he was sure of it.
Shiro smirked at the blue-haired man, "Yeah, yeah, Grimmjow, fuck off. I'll be up in a minute."
"... Okay," the man now known as Grimmjow sneered, but was oddly complacent. He turned to go, only once glancing back over his shoulder with a suspicious look, "no hanky-panky with the prisoner."
"Keep it in yer pants, Grimm, not everyone's like that," Shiro retorted without missing a beat. He made shooing motions with his hands at the man.
He lingered for a moment after Grimmjow left, then started to leave himself.
"W-wait!" Ichigo called.
"Hm?" Shiro stopped, his back to the teen.
"K… can you kiss me? Like you used to?" Ichigo asked softly, unknowingly echoing the words from his dream. He was embarrassed by how shy he was acting, and it showed in the form of a deep red flush on his cheeks.
Shiro gave pause a peculiar expression on his face. He recognized the question. Shiro turned and walked back over to Ichigo's cell. He reached a hand through the bars for Ichigo. Ichigo stood, grabbing hold of the hand and allowing himself to be pulled forward.
It was awkward. The bars were hard and cold against either of his cheeks, but Shiro's lips were so soft and warm. It was brief, chaste. They couldn't afford more than that in such a place, but it was like Ichigo's body remembered the moments such as this shared with him, and something within his soul seemed to soar as it was fulfilled.
When Shiro pulled away, Ichigo whined softly.
"Why're ya so cold?" Shiro whispered, eyes searching.
"Eh, there aren't any blankets in the cell, so—" Ichigo started to say. Shiro held up a hand.
"No. Yer like a corpse, cold as the dead," Shiro told him.
Ichigo shuddered. That was painfully close to the mark. Dammit, he shouldn't have asked for that kiss. He was regretting it already.
"Well, you… you see," Ichigo avoided eye contact, eyes darting to the left.
"Ichi," Shiro said sternly, getting Ichigo to nervously look back at him, "don't lie to me."
Ichigo held his breath. He looked away again. What did he do? Tell the truth? Make something up? But they had a bond. Shiro could probably tell if it was a lie, and was it really right of him to just lie about it? It wasn't. He couldn't lie to Shiro in the name of 'protecting' him like he did with everyone else. He could tell at least him.
"How do I put this?" he asked with a sigh. "I think— er, I know that… ah… I died."
Shiro's eyes narrowed. He didn't speak.
So the orange-haired teen went on, "It was a week ago. I was running a high fever, and then I passed out. I don't know the specifics, but I do know that I woke up in a morgue. When I did, I realized that my heart was no longer beating. I don't know how I'm here, but I am."
"This… ain't right," Shiro said slowly, "this ain't natural, Ichi. I dunno why a thing like this would happen, but ya shoulda died and reincarnated. Somethin' got fucked up big time."
"I'd have to agree with you, but it's not like we can do anything about it," Ichigo replied.
Shiro hummed in thought, "No, maybe not… Say, did anythin' strange happen before ya died? Anythin' unusual at all?"
"I don't know. Like what?"
His partner cocked his head to the side, "Hmm… like, maybe runnin' into someone strange. Findin' strange artifacts, or some such nonsense."
"I don't think so…" Ichigo jolted to a stop. No, that wasn't quite right. "Actually, there was something! A few days before that was when I first ran into Gin. That was when he gave me some white marble for some reason, and then he just ran away."
"Wait, ya can't mean…" Shiro's eyes widened behind his shades, "the Hougyoku?!"
The name caused stabs at Ichigo's brain as snippets of memory flashed in his mind. The name had eluded him, but as it was spoken in the waking realm, it came rushing back to him. Ichigo took in a breathy gasp of air, "I think you're right."
"D— do ya still have it?!" Shiro asked him desperately. He wrapped his hands around the bars, staring at Ichigo fiercely, "Tell me where it is, quickly! It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!"
It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!
…
It's dangerous to have it around regular humans!
…
The orange-haired teen took a step back, "What?!"
"The Hougyoku can't be kept around regular humans. Least not without the proper protective measures bein' taken," Shiro explained, "there's no tellin' what adverse effects it could have on someone. It could be anythin' from terminal illness to somethin' worse. It could turn a person into a bloodthirsty monster. It's a powerful, terrifyin' thing, Ichigo. Please tell me ya know where it is."
"Um… you see… I kind of… lost it, I think…"
"Ya what?!" Shiro demanded incredulously.
Ichigo snapped a hard glare at Shiro, "Don't use that tone with me! I didn't even know what it was until just now! I just found out a few days ago that I'm some special being that reincarnates and I can't even remember any of it... Besides, I could've sworn I had it in my pocket up until I died, but maybe it fell out somewhere after I passed out. As far as I know, it's gone now."
"... Gone…" Shiro fell to his knees, staring blankly past Ichigo, "gone, ya say… ya lost an artifact that can effectively create legions of demons… it could be anywhere… oh god…"
"I'm sorry, okay?!" Ichigo scowled at Shiro. "If I had known it was that important, I'd have kept a better eye on it."
Eventually, the pale man came back to his senses. He blinked a few times before his eyes settled coolly on Ichigo, "No, I'm sorry. I keep forgettin' that yer not the Ichi ya used to be. Ya couldn't have done much 'bout it."
Ichigo wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or insulted by the statement. He didn't have to react though, because Shiro was already leaving.
"I gotta get this next contract, so I'll be gone for a while. Try not to get killed while I'm gone."
Ichigo wilted against the bars, "Gee, thanks…"
Author's Note: Because of course, what kind of author would I be if I didn't end every chapter with an unresolved conflict? I just like making people hate me.
Catch any grammatical errors, mistakes, glaring plot holes? Let me know! As usual, my stories are un-beta'd, so I could have missed a typo here or there. Whether you loved it, or absolutely loathed it with the burning passion of a thousand suns, please review and let me know so I know where to improve.
Also, feel free to ask questions. They help fuel the next chapter.
Until next time!
