Karin wasn't sure how long the knocking on her front door had been going on before she heard it over the blare of her blow dryer, but she reckoned it had to have been a rather notable amount of time considering Toushiro had actually gotten off his ass for once that day and was answering the door before she could even make it past the kitchen.
Her heart thrummed anxiously against her chest as she practically sprinted to his side, trying her best to act casual and not at all displeased to see her brother standing in the doorway alongside her father.
"Ichigo, Dad! Hey!" Her voice was too hitched, her expression too strained. She could see her grimace reflected in their stares. "I could've met you guys downstairs."
Ichigo just glared at her, pointing a long distrustful finger to the man at her side, who frankly at that moment looked like a homeless person. "Who the hell is this?"
The way in which Toushiro's face twisted gave her brother a run for his money, features contorting dark and harsh. Karin stammered.
"Sorry, Karin dear," Isshin said airily, abandoning his son on the front lines of his self-imposed stand-off as he furthered himself into the apartment. "I tried to make him wait in the car, but you know how he is. Like a child he listens to no one."
Her father proceeded to catch her in an unsanctioned but well expected bear-hug, coddling her like some five year-old child experiencing trauma for the first time. Karin merely grunted, crinkling her nose as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Clearly you didn't try hard enough," she muttered grumpily. "I'm sure the child locks would've sufficed."
"Hey, I came up to check that everything was up to par," Ichigo snapped, spewing absolute bullshit. Karin rolled her eyes. "And considering this zombie that's answering the door–'
"He's just an artist I'm working with, Ichigo. Calm your shit."
She ignored the dumbstruck twist of impending argument in her brother's face in favour of shrugging her father off, stepping closer to Toushiro as she nudged the bearded man towards the kitchen with her elbow. He made a show of pouting, sulking dramatically as he thumped around the corner and disappeared.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that some punky-ass musician hanging around your apartment in his pajamas is really just for work and completely innocent?" Ichigo scoffed. "As-fucking-if, Karin. I'm not stupid."
Karin heaved an exasperated sigh, lolling her head back on her shoulders. It was truly amazing how a person as intelligent as her brother could be so utterly moronic.
"Since when is working with artists part of your job, anyway?"
"Since recently," she snapped. "If you pulled your head out of your ass once in awhile I might actually bother telling you things. Like, for instance, the promotion I have waiting for me if I can get a certain someone back on track with music and ready to record again."
Following the direction of her head tilt, Ichigo cast the white-haired man a calculating look. "Huh…" His scowl softened to a more reasonable degree, and he rubbed the back of his neck, the focus of his eyes shifting almost timidly. "Well, that's cool then, I guess."
Karin nodded in agreement, eliciting a triumphant huff and nearly allowing herself to relax.
"But, like, does he have to be someone who looks like they just rose from the dead?"
The dark-haired girl just sagged, slapping a hand to her forehead and sliding it down her face exhaustively, bracing herself for Toushiro had visibly bristled beside her, the grip on the neck of his guitar tightening audibly as he squared his shoulders.
"At least my hair isn't fucking orange."
Ichigo cut him a look. "The hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked heatedly, as
though he were a teenager again. As if no one had ever passed judgement on his hair colour before. "Your hair's freakier than mine! Who the hell dyes their hair white of all things?!"
"It's natural, you twit."
"Oh, I'm sure."
"My God. Okay, this is over." Stepping between them with her arms raised, Karin pressed a hand to Toushiro's chest and pushed him back towards the living room. "You, back to work, now."
His jaw clenched as he swallowed pending words, his face fixing a silent sneer as he spun around and made to return to the sofa. Karin simply exhaled.
"Actually, I was going to suggest that Toushiro join us."
Isshin had re-emerged from the kitchen, effectively blocking Toushiro's path as he rifled through a bag of stale potato chips, an air of utmost indifference about him.
Karin and Ichigo glared at their father incredulously. "What?"
Toushiro was especially put off by the invitation, staring uncertainly at Isshin as though he'd just been asked to sell his soul. The bearded man merely smirked at him, unfazed.
"Err… Thanks, Kurosaki-san, but I'm okay here. Honestly." The last word was practically a plea, and it appeared obvious to everyone but Isshin that he wished nothing more than to stay where he was.
"Nonsense," Isshin waved off. "I insist."
He proceeded to stare Toushiro down, as if daring him to try and say no, and the younger man's mouth opened and closed at least three times over before a resigned grunt sounded deep in his throat, his frame slumping in defeat.
"Okay, sure. Whatever."
Toushiro went on sluggishly, putting his guitar down beside the sofa with the utmost reluctance and gathering a bundle of semi clean clothes from his duffelbag, while Karin remained rooted where she stood, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor as she waited for him to disappear into the bathroom.
Once she heard the door click shut, she set a quick glower on her father.
"Dad, what the hell?"
Isshin calmly nibbled on a chip, the quirk to his lips intact and unwavering. "I just
wanna get to know him better," he vouched innocently.
"Why?" Karin whined. "It's not like we're dating."
"I damn well hope not," Ichigo muttered, still sulking in the doorway. He glanced away at the look his father shot him.
"Maybe not, but he still happens to be living with you, and that makes him a rather influential part of your life." Her father had turned stern, and she pouted. "Now finish getting ready. We're going to be late."
The drive to Ikebukuro was fairly short, in reality, but for Toushiro it had felt like hours. Several long, suffocating hours. Even the spacious SUV they drove in felt cramped and stiff, his entire perception gone crossed within the tension.
Once they were finally parked across the street from their destination, Toushiro all but jumped out of the vehicle, inhaling sharply and relishing the fresh brisk air as if newly resurrected. He shot the eldest Kurosaki child an accusatory glare as he exited the car after him and rounded the front, being of utmost blame for his discomfort since perpetually glaring at him from the front passenger seat. Ichigo returned the favour with an inherent intensity, cutting a long side-eye as he set off after his father with his hands shoved aggressively into his coat pockets, and he made blatantly sure to exploit their height difference, towering overhead as he passed.
Karin was the last to leave the car, taking her time, no doubt reapplying the lipstick she'd chewed into barely a stain on the way there. She shot Toushiro a troubled look, passing him by with somber eyes and hunched shoulders, approaching the restaurant like she would her execution. She hadn't said a word the entire car ride, staring endlessly out the window, twirling the ends of her scarf around restless fingers. He wouldn't even begin to pretend he hadn't noticed.
He hung back a few paces as the four of them crossed the street, lighting up quickly and taking a long fortifying drag of nicotine, letting it settle in his throat and burn his lungs before he exhaled, reluctantly putting out the embers on the inside of his coat sleeve and stuffing the cigarette back in his pocket for later. He caught just the flash of a look as Karin held the door open for him.
The restaurant was cozy and elaborate, with nice red walls and dim lighting, courtesy of several colourful lanterns hanging from the ceiling above the tables, small cupped lights lining the paths in-between. The place was nearly packed and very warm, increasing the daylong nausea Toushiro had been fighting a tenfold. A dozen different aromas attacked his senses as they trudged through the restaurant, immediately urging him to gag, his stomach curling into itself. He tried not to trip over his palpable uneasiness.
Isshin had lead them purposely along, eventually coming upon a large semi-circular booth in the far back corner. A short and skinny girl with big eyes and honey-blonde hair waved to them from the table, grinning ear to ear as she slid out and onto her feet, coaxing them over.
"I'm guessing that's your sister?" Toushiro presumed quietly, leaning forward so Karin could hear.
"What tipped you off?" she murmured back.
"The twin angle certainly didn't," he muttered. "Though I suppose I could've just waited 'til she insulted my entire person to make an educated guess."
"Yuzu would never," Karin vouched, airy with theatrics. "Not to your face, anyway."
"Oh wow, thanks."
She cast him an animated grin, swatting at his hair teasingly, knowing full well how hard he worked to make it look even partially presentable. He scrunched up his face then, tousling her hair haphazardly in return until she pinched his arm, even through three layers of clothing causing him to wince.
"Oww," he whined, rubbing his arm. Karin had already disregarded him, combing a quick hand through her hair and happily wearing it's mess as she went on to greet her sister. Joyous hugging ensued, and he held back pointedly, wanting to feel as unawkward as possible while he intruded on their family dinner.
"You look so pretty, Karin!" Yuzu gushed, pulling back from their hug to inspect her sister properly.
Karin's shoulders rose in a shrug, a lazy smirk fixing her face. "I dressed up just for you, Yuzu," she said with a slight drawl. "This news of yours better be worth it."
Yuzu perked up then, brightening as her lips parted to respond.
"Please tell me you're not pregnant," Ichigo downright begged, cutting her off before she could even begin. Karin promptly elbowed him in the side. "What? It's a genuine concern!"
Karin made a face. "You're a pest, you know that?"
Ichigo cut her an immediate sneer, still on edge from earlier. "Hey Yuzu," he began loftily, hazel eyes piercing his dark-haired sister with spiteful intent. "Have you by chance met Karin's new boyfriend? I know I just did, and lemme tell you, he is quite the catch."
"'Boyfriend'?" Yuzu repeated dubiously, her attention snapping back to her sister, eyes wide under wrinkled brows. Karin outright fumed.
"He is not my boyfriend!" she ground out, whacking her brother on the back of the head.
A teasing smirk played his lips, completely unfazed. "Oh, I'm sorry, is 'pet zombie' more accurate?"
"Stop calling him that!"
Karin's fists clenched at her sides, her shoulders squared defensively as she glowered at her brother, neck craned to look him straight in the eye. Within the commotion, Toushiro had considered slipping out, sure he'd have a solid ten minutes before anyone noticed his absence. However, before he could even register the thought in his mind he caught Isshin's beckoning stare, as if the man could read his thoughts, and instead Toushiro found himself drawn forward.
"There you are, Toushiro~" Isshin sing-songed. "I was afraid you'd skipped out on us. Here, meet Yuzu."
Toushiro narrowed his eyes; this man was something else. Barely forcing a smile, he regarded the girl in front of him. "Hey," he accosted flatly, flicking his wrist in a half-assed wave. The blonde blinked owlishly at him, her expression growing tight and unreadable.
"Hey…" she returned. "You're Hitsugaya Toushiro, right?" Her tone was explicitly different from before, dry and perplexed, and in a new state of non comfort, he merely nodded. "Huh… I, uh, didn't know you were coming."
"I invited him, dear," Isshin cut in, chipper as ever. "I hope you don't mind. It just didn't seem right to leave him home alone while we all went out to eat. God knows your sister doesn't keep her pantry stocked properly."
If possible, Yuzu looked even more confused. "Wait, what? Leave him at Karin's place? Why would he be there?"
"Well he lives there, of course."
"Dad!" Karin fumed yet again, cheeks tinging. She slumped guiltily as she faced her sister. "I was gonna tell you, I swear."
"I can leave," Toushiro offered quietly, already turning for the exit.
"Yeah, why don't you?" Ichigo bit out, shooting a look over his sister's head. Karin stomped on his foot. "Ouch! Dammit Karin!"
"No no no," Yuzu rambled, waving her hands in front of herself. "Sorry, that was rude of me. It's just that, um–'
"I'm here! I'm here!"
The group of them froze, simultaneously regarding the tall vision of spiky black hair and lean muscle that suddenly bounded into sight, passing by an annoyingly complacent Isshin and stopping just beside Yuzu. The newcomer took a few seconds to gather his bearings, the expanse of his fitted leather jacket morphing with every breath he heaved, hunched briefly at the waist before he straightened up. His arm draped over Yuzu's shoulders with roaring reveal.
In a unified order of reaction, Isshin simply smirked like he was enjoying a television drama, Ichigo's hard gaze zeroed in on the bold, black '69' that marred the guy's left cheek, and Toushiro stiffened glaringly on the outskirt, leaving Karin to hold her breath. She was meeting Hisagi Shuuhei in the flesh, and under any other
circumstance she'd probably be excited about it.
"Sorry I'm late, babe," Hisagi said breathlessly, planting a kiss atop the honey-blonde's head. He let out a dejected sigh. "My car broke down again."
Yuzu heaved a laugh, slicked with nerves. "No worries," she told him, wringing her hands. "Everyone only just got here, anyway."
Hisagi cast a look around then, flashing what was possibly the sweetest smile Karin had ever seen. It was no question why he'd been pegged by fans as the friendliest member of the band.
"So," Yuzu started, fumbling as if she'd forgotten a practiced speech. "Um, family, meet Hisagi Shuuhei, my boyfriend."
She took the blunt way in, and there was a short pause following in which Ichigo paled and Toushiro backed further out of view. Isshin was the first to act, breaking the silence as he happily greeted Hisagi, seeming instantly taken with the man. One thing their father was good for at the very least was not making a stereotypical scene when meeting his daughter's suitors. Instead he waited graciously until they fucked up, then it was all hands on deck.
Isshin proceeded to play his son's pacifier, dragging him into introductions with a warning grip of his shoulder. Ichigo was undoubtedly backed up with brash comments and unintended (or fully intended) insults, but of course with the help of his father and the fact that it was Yuzu, he held his tongue. The blatant reality of it had Karin at the cusp of a snarl.
Just nearly, though, as the sudden whisper in her ear gave her a start, pulling her attention away.
"I'll see you at home," came Toushiro's voice in a flat hush, immediately causing Karin's breath to hitch.
"What?" Whipping around, Karin grabbed hold of a retreating Toushiro's elbow, yanking him back. "The hell? You're just leaving?"
He gave her a dense look, shadows cast about his sneer. "As if your brother's over-bearing ass isn't bad enough," he snapped icily, proceeding to shrug her off. "I'm not about to sit here and have dinner with that bastard, too, and I'm sure my presence won't be missed. Now let go."
"Why, so you can continue to run away from your problems? Hm, no, I don't think so."
"Dammit Karin," he seethed, keeping his voice an angry whisper. "This is none of your business."
"You're my business!" she snapped, her voice croaking uncomfortably from trying to whisper and shout at the same time. Her dark eyes were like steel, bulging with plea.
"How long are you going to carry this grudge around, huh? I mean, don't you at least want some closure?"
Toushiro went slack, pausing in his attempts to pry her fingers from his arm. The hollow look in his eye put her off.
"Toushiro?"
Sharp blue eyes snapped to, narrowing past Karin's head. Clearly it had come time for Karin to be introduced, for Hisagi had finally noticed his once best friend was in attendance. He came up beside Karin in full, stiff and slightly aghast, and in turn Karin dropped her arm to her side, releasing Toushiro from her hold.
She was surprised he didn't just bolt right then and there, and later would find herself wishing he had.
"What, uh–' Hisagi cleared his throat, eyes darting from Toushiro to Karin and back again, his forehead constricting. "What's going on? What're you doing here?"
Toushiro's nose crinkled, twitching distastefully. Disregarding Hisagi completely, he turned a quick and loaded look on Karin. "I'm leaving."
He'd barely had chance to blink, let alone turn away, before Karin latched onto his wrist, holding on tighter than before.
"It's great to finally meet you, Hisagi-san. I'm Karin, Yuzu's sister," she introduced herself sweetly, paying no mind to Toushiro as he struggled and huffed to get away from her, her free hand held out in greeting. Hisagi shook it absentmindedly, casting a wary glance at her captive. "Don't mind him," Karin added indifferently. "He's just being a grump like usual, I'm sure you remember."
"Is talking about people like they're not even there just a family thing?" Toushiro questioned irately, glaring daggers.
Karin shot him a shit-eating grin. "First thing my father taught me."
"Guys, c'mon." Yuzu called after them from the table, having just shuffled her father and Ichigo into the booth. Karin gestured for Hisagi to go first, and he cast Toushiro a lingering look before continuing on, his grin resurfacing as he went to join Yuzu.
Meanwhile, Toushiro had stopped struggling, opting instead to try and glare a hole through Karin's skull as she dragged him along to the table.
"Just know that I hate you forever," he told her, dripping with acid.
"I'm okay with that."
She proceeded to pull him into the booth with her, leaving him on the out by default, and if the night wasn't bad enough already, he found himself sitting directly across from Hisagi.
He felt horrid and spiteful, taking Karin's warning look in stride as he removed his gloves and coat as roughly as his weakened body allowed. Not for a second was he about to let her feel comfortable with forcing him into this.
Conversation rose around the table, kickstarted with Yuzu talking about the renovations that had gone on and pointing out notable differences, then quickly leading into typical catch-up pleasantries. Toushiro could only too well feel his old friend's annoyingly kind gaze settle on him in constant intervals even while he interacted with the rest of the group, and he strained not to let his own gaze stray from where a glint of light on his fork and knife setting had caught his eye, resisting the urge to glare across the table lest he falter. He was entirely too tense, his fingers clenching in his pants' pockets as he slumped in his seat, a jumble of nerves beating along his skin, burning. He found himself fantasizing in great detail the idea of sticking his cutlery in his eyes, maybe striking his arteries with chopsticks, anything at all to escape his current reality, this guy across from him with his melancholy stares and thoughtful resignation behind pursed lips. It was enough to drive him mad.
'Closure' couldn't even be mused.
"So… uh, how've you been, Toushiro?"
In that instant his restraint snapped, flimsy as a twig, a hard glower of regard settling on the sweet tattooed face before him. Gray eyes called upon him in earnest, and it hurt to look at him, but Toushiro persevered.
"Oh, I've just been swell," he replied in a sardonic drawl. It felt like his heart was choking. "And how have you been, Hisagi? Screwed anyone over lately? Stabbed your best friend in the back, perhaps?"
He saw the force of his words, leaving grief along the aged lines of Hisagi's face, and he'd claim it made him feel better, gave him joy to see his face fall. The booth had quieted significantly by that time, and Karin shifted pointedly beside him, the heel of her boot striking his leg.
"Ouch," he seethed, pain crumpling his face. She didn't even look at him.
"You guys know each other?" Ichigo asked, looking between the two men curiously from his spot beside Karin. Isshin was now uncorking the bottle of wine that had been sitting in the middle of the table, and Toushiro melted with longing.
"We were in a band together, 'few years back." Hisagi supplied. "But we've known each other since we were kids."
"A band, huh? I wonder if I've heard your music…" Ichigo was clearly on the brink of being impressed, folding his arms over the edge of the table as he leaned in. "We're you guys like, legit?"
"You have like three of their albums, Ichi-nii," Karin informed him. "They were the number one band in Japan for three years straight."
Ichigo summoned a dubious look. "Really? Huh. I guess I never really paid attention to that kind of stuff. Tatsuki always gave me CDs, I barely ever looked at the names."
"We've got a couple celebrities in our midst," Isshin chimed in proudly, pouring himself some wine. "Good work, girls."
Hisagi laughed. "I wouldn't say I was a celebrity," he admitted modestly. "Toushiro was the popular one, to be honest. Japan's 'golden boy'. Media couldn't get enough."
At that Ichigo leaned in further, eyeing Toushiro in a way that made him uncomfortable. "Now that I think about it, you do look kind of familiar…" The orange haired man squinted, sending a flash of heat down Toushiro's spine. "Actually, yeah, I think you were in a calendar one of my ex-girlfriends had."
Toushiro's cheeks tinged, colouring with unwanted remembrance. He'd hated those photoshoots, those calendars. Label appointed publicists barely asked for consent before tossing him in front of a camera. "That was a long time ago," he muttered, straightening up so he could further ruin his posture with a hunch.
"Isn't that the truth," Ichigo said offhandedly, taking the bottle of wine from his father and filling his own glass. The rich red liquid glinted at Toushiro in the light, mocking him mercilessly. "Look like you aged ten years."
"While your ridiculous hair colour keeps you young, right?" Toushiro bit back. He ignored the young doctor's scowl in favour of fixing his sweater sleeves over his knuckles, his nerves catching up to him and leaving him jittery. "Now, can we please talk about literally anything else?"
There was an awkward pause, looks exchanged, and Isshin was the first to ramble, the change of subject odd and rather morbid as he began a report of the gunshot victim he treated just a few nights before. The guy died, totally untreatable, the end.
However, this sparked a dialogue between him and Ichigo over work and patients, seeming very akin to a pissing contest, much to the eyerolls of the twins.
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Hisagi asked eventually, zeroing in on Karin and Toushiro. "Been together long?"
Karin had taken a sip of water just seconds prior, and proceeded to sputter. "'Together'? No, no no no no no, we're– er, we're not together."
Toushiro made a face, cutting her a side-eye. "Six 'no's', really?"
Karin melted a noticeable bit, her expression impassive as she brought her glass of water to her lips again, drinking as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Er– sorry," Hisagi amended quickly. "I just assumed, since he was here with you–'
"It's fine," Karin said, waving it off. "It's kind of complicated, but we're just working together."
"Really? Working on what?"
"Can someone pass the wine?" Toushiro blurted out, casting a look around the table but not focusing on anyone in particular. To his utmost surprise, it was Ichigo who passed the bottle over, while everyone else just exchanged looks again, judging him. "Thanks," he muttered, dripping with sincerity even as he refused eye contact.
He poured a full eight ounces into his glass, easily ignoring the scrutiny he received from Karin and Hisagi as the new prospect of drinking numbed his nerves. Only at the back of his mind did it annoy him, the pained look that crumpled the man across from him, the disappointed snarl searing into him from the side. Like this really affected them, like they had the right to be bothered.
Isshin prompted Hisagi with questions shortly after, effectively drawing him away, but Karin held steady, her lips a tight line as she glared at him. Toushiro acknowledged her blankly, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips and downing nearly the entire thing in one long take. She grew emphatically tense beside him as he refilled his glass and set the empty bottle at the end of the table, her attention still focused on him even while she flipped through a menu and joined in on conversation.
It wasn't long after that a waitress came around to greet them, doe-eyed and tiny, her hair done up in two high pigtails.
"Get anything you want, guys, on the house," Yuzu told them, drunk with the success of her business. "I'm gonna recommend our feature dish, though. Shuuhei created it himself."
"Don't feel pressured," Hisagi interjected quickly. "It's definitely not the best thing here."
"Nonsense," Yuzu waved off, so very much like her father. "It's incredible."
"Hell, I'll try it," Karin announced with a shrug, slapping her menu shut and handing it to the waitress. The rest of her family followed suit, and she sent a smirk Hisagi's way. The man had gone pink.
"And for you, sir?" the waitress prompted quietly, zeroing in on Toushiro while she fixed the stack of menus in her arms.
Toushiro glanced up at her dazedly, the mere thought of ordering food and actually eating it making him go pale, inwardly gagging. "Nothing for me, thanks. I'm good with this," he said, waving his glass for emphasis. The waitress merely nodded, grabbing his menu off the table. She gave a slight bow before leaving.
"Thanks, Ururu," Yuzu called after her. "You sure you don't want anything to eat, Hitsugaya-san?"
Toushiro merely nodded, refusing to look her way, to meet her doting gaze. It made him feel strange, when she looked at him. She was far too young to act so motherly.
"I'm okay," he muttered quietly.
Hisagi's frown hit him like a tidal wave. "You should really eat something with that, Toushiro."
"And you should really mind your own fucking business, Hisagi."
Karin's heel dug into his leg much harder and more blatantly under the table, and once again Toushiro reeled back in pain.
"You goddamn lunatic," he hissed, straining to keep a hushed voice. "Are you trying to cripple me?"
"No, I have complete confidence you'll do that all on your own."
The two of them glared at each other, their tension not exactly a secret.
"It's a real wonder you guys broke up," Ichigo began of his own incentive, his tone drawl and laced with sarcasm. "I mean, he's just so. damn. pleasant. I can't fathom what could've possibly been the issue."
"Well, he wasn't always…"
Hisagi trailed off as quickly as he began once Toushiro sent a look his way, and the fair-haired man felt himself boil over.
"I wasn't always what, Hisagi? C'mon, spit it out."
The answer screamed in his head even as Hisagi kept silent, not looking at him as he stared down at his hands, picking at his crooked fingernails in his lap. Toushiro held his glare for a long hitched breath, blinking away shortly after with a scoff.
"Y'know what, I forgot to order more wine. Someone should really get on that." Flashing a look around, Toushiro pressed his palms to the polished wood tabletop and hoisted himself out of the booth. The swift grab of his coat didn't go unnoticed. "I volunteer myself."
He delayed himself no more than half a second before charging off on a different path than they'd come in, hoping for a stealthy exit.
As his damned fate would have it, though, he barely made it five tables down before he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, yanking him back.
"The fuck are you doing?" Karin fumed in an angry hiss, flying right into him. It was a wonder their noses didn't touch.
Toushiro made a face. "What?"
"What d'you mean 'what'?" she snapped, blood rising vividly in her cheeks as her anger flared. "Do you even realize how incredibly rude you're being? I know you have this whole thing with Hisagi but I hoped that during a dinner with my family you'd at least try and be civilized. And drinking? What is wrong with you? You're supposed to be sobering up!"
"I'm also supposed to be at home working on my music in peace, yet here we are," he cut out, challenging her glower. "I'm sorry I didn't live up to the expectations I explicitly told you not to have of me, but incase you forgot, I don't want to be here. In fact, the only person who did want me here is your father, and I'm pretty sure he's changed his mind on that, too. It doesn't matter whether I stay or go at this point, so I'm going."
Karin's jaw clenched, and after a minutal staring contest, she huffed, deflating tiredly. "It's just… You were doing so well."
"Is that what you think?" Toushiro let out a laugh, teetering on the verge of a jeer and a sob, humourless as ever. "I am miserable, Karin. I hate every second that I'm awake, I can't go twenty minutes without wanting to throw myself off the bloody fire escape, and because of your stupid fucking sobriety pact I have no way to numb the pain."
"Has it ever occurred to you to actually deal with your problems?"
"What, like you do?" The nosy eye of a stranger pierced them from two tables over, and Karin tensed, gritting her teeth. "Don't think I haven't noticed," Toushiro pressed on. "Hell, I could tell the moment I met you. You're no more stable than I am."
Karin closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. "Shut up."
"You can't fix me, Karin. You can barely fix yourself." His voice had softened a fair degree, and he looked at her as fully as the shadows cast about her allowed, a regard she'd never yet received swallowing her whole. It had her with parted lips and nothing to say. "We should just focus on what matters: the music, and getting me out of your life before I ruin it, too."
"But–' She stepped forward, and as she did he stepped back, shaking his head. He closed his eyes as not to look at her, turning away with only an inward mutter of 'I'm sorry' barely reaching his throat. He felt her eyes bore into him as he all but ran out of the restaurant, the kind of lingering stare he'd felt on him that first night they'd met. The semblance churned in his chest, slithering around in his stomach with its sickness, its bitter truth.
He was right back where he started. No, he never even passed the first checkpoint. The harsh reality of it seared through his veins, urging his temper, and he nearly crashed into a waitress and her tray full of drinks as he charged out of the restaurant. The door shuddered on it's hinges from the force of his hand, cold air nipping his cheeks the moment he stepped outside but not quite doing its trick to calm his nerves.
He came to a reluctant stop at the curb, his entire right leg shaking as he tapped his foot impatiently on the cement sidewalk and waited for the walk light to turn green. Despite his death wish, he didn't want to die so pathetically as a reckless jay-walker.
Toushiro took the time to light the remainder of his last cigarette, and swore he could feel another line knead into his forehead as his lighter failed to produce a flame. He almost pondered how the night could get any worse, but before he had the chance a spiky black head of hair impeded his peripheral, giving him a start.
He shook his head before the guy could even speak.
"Leave me alone, Hisagi."
"C'mon Toushiro," he said, an active practitioner of calmness. "You don't have to leave."
"Yeah, actually, I do," Toushiro bit out, cutting him a snarl. "I refuse to sit there while you play nice and pretend everything's okay."
"That's not what I'm doing."
He gritted his teeth, a horrid bitterness crawling along his tongue as he chewed down on his cigarette by mistake. A few more tries at the switch and he was about ready to toss the lighter into the street.
"Here." Hisagi held out his own lighter then, stepping forward far too quickly. Toushiro outright recoiled.
"Don't," he breathed.
"Dammit, Toushiro. Will you just be reasonable for like, a minute?"
"Fuck you," he spat, ripping his cigarette from his lips and stuffing it back into his coat pocket. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of change, and he immediately whipped back around to the crosswalk, revelling in the green walk light. "Finally."
Toushiro made a quick charge across the street, huddling into his coat as he hopped up on the opposite sidewalk and made in the direction of the train station. He managed to pass six storefronts before he noticed Hisagi jogging after him, white flecks of a sudden flurry beating along his dark blue button up and slowly turning it darker.
"Fuck off, please," Toushiro called back. "I sincerely beg you."
The tattooed man grunted, picking up his pace. "Look, will you just listen to me for a sec–'
"No, Hisagi, okay? I'm not gonna fucking 'look'." Toushiro stopped in front of an empty building checkered with 'for lease' signs, whipping around in a rush of emotion, airing them all out for the world to see. "This isn't the time for a goddamn heart to heart or whatever it is you're trying to do, alright? I haven't heard from any of you for over two years, and if it weren't for your girlfriend's dad dragging me here tonight you wouldn't have even thought about me. You're not allowed to use this coincidence for your own fucking benefit."
"Whynot?" Hisagi sagged at the shoulders, delayed in catching his breath. "I know I've been a shitty friend, okay. I should've tried to see you a long time ago...I just didn't know how. But I'm always thinking about you, Toushiro. And Rukia and Renji, they put up a callous front, but I know they think about you too, and I know they miss you as much as I do."
Toushiro chewed down on his lip, hunched as he wrapped his arms around himself, gripping his elbows in a self-endowed hug as the chill of the night pricked along his skin.
"We used to be a family, all of us." Hisagi said, as if he had to remind him. Toushiro closed his eyes. "And then we weren't. It was hard to reach out after that."
"Because of me, right?"
"I didn't say that–'
"But you're thinking it. The three of you made it real fucking clear that what happened was my fault."
The dark-haired man struggled with his words, scrunching up his face as snowflakes nipped his cheeks. "We didn't mean it like that," he said, pleading his case desperately. "We were just– I dunno, put off. We were angry."
"So I guess it's all fine, then, yeah? Nevermind the fact that you guys pretty much abandoned me, that none of you bothered to keep in touch, because oh, you didn't mean it." Toushiro jerked his head to the side, inhaling sharply. The cold air filled his lungs, irritating his throat, and he adamantly convinced himself the ache in his chest was from a lack of nicotine. "Should I apologize now, too? Say I'm sorry that my sister killed herself and I was upset about it?"
"You lost your mind, Toushiro!" Hisagi had finally snapped, his inherent calmness run dry. "Being upset and in mourning was one thing, but you went completely mad. You stopped sleeping, you stopped eating, you were hopped up all the time on god knows what, spouting all these nonsense ideas about how–'
"You were there." Toushiro's voice croaked, and Hisagi slackened. "You were with me when I found her, you saw all the signs the same as I did, and you did absolutely nothing."
"Toushiro–'
"You didn't back me up with the others, you didn't back me up when I wanted to leave the label. You guys treated me like some irrational child, and you only cared about your careers and your fame, expecting me to just keep working for that prick–'
"Can you blame us for being a bit scared? You were asking us to give up everything, and when we didn't immediately comply you just shut us off. And Aizen, he just wasn't the guy you wanted him to be. You didn't want to deal with Momo's death, so your mind came up with ideas and theories to block it out."
"Oh gee, thanks Doctor," Toushiro mocked. "Finally putting those psych books you read on the road to use, huh?"
"You need help, Toushiro."
He shook his head, his breath a crisp shudder as he backed off. "No, no, you know what I need? I need people to stop telling me what I need. This conversation is over."
"Have you even been to her grave?" Hisagi went on, even as Toushiro turned and began walking away.
"She's gone either way, right?" Toushiro called back flatly, pivoting on his heel to give a shrug, slowing his pace but not stopping completely. He flashed a hollow upturn of his lips, flinging his hands up. "What does it matter?"
The drive home was spent in heavy silence. Karin had been desperate to take the train home, but hadn't dared waste her energy arguing about it with her father, knowing full well she'd lose. So instead she accepted her fate begrudgingly, sulking in the back seat with her arms crossed over her chest, staring endlessly out the window.
She hadn't said a word to Ichigo since dinner, when she'd returned to the table after Toushiro's departure. To her, he was partially to blame.
Once the car stopped outside her apartment building, Karin's hand shot to the door handle, a rushed goodbye falling from her lips as she heaved herself onto the sidewalk. She all but ran up the cement stairs, working her legs to the brink of their strength as she charged up to the entrance. She hadn't failed to hear a car door open and close just seconds after she'd gotten out, and when her brother bounded up the steps after her, she didn't even bother to swallow her groan.
"Karin, wait."
She closed her eyes, turning only half around to regard him. "What?"
"Are you mad at me, or something?"
"Wow, did you actually detect that on your own or did Dad have to tell you?"
Ichigo deflated. "So you are mad." Karin made a face, eyebrows quirking. "Why? What did I do?"
She scoffed. "Are you fucking serious?" she cut out, giving him a bewildered look. "You're actually asking me that?"
"What?"
"My God, Ichigo, you are so unbelievably dense sometimes. Do you not even realize how incredibly rude you were to Toushiro tonight? How much worse you made everything?" Amidst his usual scowl he'd gone blank, and Karin fumed. "I wasn't deluded enough to think you'd like him right off the bat, but I at least thought you'd respect me enough to try. But you can't even do that, can you? It's like I'm in fucking high school again and you're coming home to me working with my male lab partner and proceed to make him so uncomfortable he switches partners the next day! But instead this is worse, a hundred times worse–'
"You don't think I knew what he was the moment I saw him?" Ichigo interjected, mustering every serious fiber of his being. "I'm a doctor, Karin. I know a fucking addict when I see one, and I'm not gonna pretend this situation's okay–'
"It's not up to you to decide what's okay!" Karin damn near shrieked, fists shaking at her sides. She'd had a prescribed patience with her brother her entire life, and it'd gotten so thin and cracked the past few years she no longer had the energy to keep it. "This is my personal life, and he is my business. You don't get a say in that."
Ichigo was beside himself, his frown tight and his eyes wide. "Fine," he spat, harsher than he'd ever been. "Just don't come crying to me when he disappoints you. Because he will, you can trust me on that. It's what addicts do."
"And you'll just love that, won't you." She betrayed too much emotion in her voice, hoarse as the words scratched through the lump in her throat. "Your whole overprotective big brother complex might've been fine when I was growing up, but I'm not a kid anymore, and I don't need it."
Karin went for the door then, coiling her fingers around the handle and pulling it open with no lack of struggle. She felt jet lagged, that's how exhausting the night had been. It showed in the way she moved.
Stepping inside, she cast her brother a final look. His own expression had gone soft with a brutal despondence, and it was hard to look at him. She'd seen that face too many times.
"When you're ready to drop the act and just support me, we can talk."
She left him to brew in his stubbornness, drawing her keys from her pocket and unlocking the second entry door. She'd have thought she'd feel lighter after finally letting so much pent up frustration out, but instead she only felt heavier, weighed down with guilt. Not just from this, but from the whole evening. She'd truly been an asshole. Totally outdone herself.
In the elevator she pressed her back flat against the wall, gripping the steel support beam with all her strength, her eyes squeezed shut so she wouldn't have to look at her reflection. Toushiro's outburst had stunned her, her mind still reeling with all he'd said like a skipping record on repeat, and she wondered again where he'd gone, if she'd find him home or not, whether he'd gone off on another bender. It had nagged at her the entire dinner, kneading a perpetual frown onto her face that even Yuzu couldn't placate.
The doors dinged open with a resounding shot of dread throughout her body, her vision blurred as she stared down the barren hallway. Tears always crept up on her, unannounced and imposing. She barely ever felt them until it was already too late, until anyone within a twenty feet radius would be able to see. It was just her luck nowadays that she was usually alone when it happened, and she simply blinked them away, swiping her fingers under her eyes as she bounded out of the elevator.
She treaded carefully, prolonging what she believed to be the inevitable: an empty apartment. No Toushiro in sight. The overwhelming reality of how wrong she'd been. She was at her door sooner than she'd wished, only being three doors down from the elevator and not having far to go. She found herself lingering in front of it like a stranger, chewing on her lip as she fiddled with her keys. Maybe she should've gone to Yuzu's place after all. Her sister had practically begged, eager to have conversations Karin wasn't quite up for, too emotionally drained to even entertain.
But maybe it would have been better.
She heaved a sigh, exasperated with herself, and finally slid the key into the lock, turning it with a brash flick and a huff. The entire apartment was dark aside from the bleak glare of city lights coming through the window, and her body slumped on it's own accord, her eyes lidding tiredly as she shoved the door shut and locked it. She kicked her boots off at the door and continued on to the living room, letting her coat slip from her shoulders and drape over the arm of the sofa. It was only when she began to draw her hair up into a bun that she noticed him, her gaze falling aimlessly on the window, and she froze.
"You're here."
The words came out more blunt than she intended, though she wasn't sure if she wanted him to know how truly relieved she felt.
"Disappointed?"
"Surprised," she corrected. Toushiro didn't look at her, staring blankly out the window as he sat huddled on the window sill, hunched over himself with his knees held tight to his chest. Karin studied him for a moment, letting her hair fall back over her shoulder as she approached him. He only took up half the window seat with how he was sitting, so she easily proceeded to take her place on the other side, tucking the skirt of her dress under her legs as she brought her knees to her chest. She only now noticed the hole in the toe of her stocking, briefly regarding the inch of space between their feet.
"Are you okay?" she asked, having taken a minute to gather herself, another to look out at the mess of snowflakes blowing past the window.
There was a distinct tightening of his features, the silence heavy before he answered. "How do you define okay?"
Karin sagged. "I'm sorry, Toushiro," she said, her sincerity running deep but her voice too small to carry it. He blinked away from the window, but still refused to look at her. "I shouldn't have forced you to stay."
"You were just trying to help."
"Yeah," she scoffed, shaking her head in spite of herself. "And like usual I just made it worse."
He glanced at her then, his eyes blotched red and puffed. When she'd stared too long he looked away again, resting his chin on his arm. "Did he tell you what happened?"
"No… He didn't say anything." She remembered how long Hisagi had taken to get back to the table after he'd supposedly went to the bathroom, a secret to no one where he'd actually gone. He'd given them all a smile, the reassurance not quite meeting his eyes. "I'd like it if you would, though."
He shifted, pressing his back against the wall, his arms outstretched over his knees. He looked like a ghost against the glare from the window, his eyes narrowed in a blank daze as he fiddled with his hands. "My sister killed herself, about two and a half years ago," he started, disarmingly toneless. Karin already knew this, but hearing it again and in such a blunt way had her reeling. "She'd been dating the head of our label for a while, probably like three years or so. She'd always been our main supporter, long before we got signed, so she was always hanging around at gigs and stuff, and one night she ran into him, got talking, got him to take interest in us. It was a while before I realized they were seeing each other, but I didn't really think anything of it at first. She was head over fucking heels for him, and he seemed like a decent enough guy…"
He paused then, becoming sharply quiet. Karin chanced a look at him, chewing down on her bottom lip. He'd gone rigid.
"They moved in together after a year. I thought it was too soon, but she never made a habit of listening to me." He smirked then, light and bitter. "It wasn't long before she started acting different, stopping hanging around as much, barely talked to me.
It went on for those last couple years, just getting worse and worse, but I was the only one who seemed to notice anything wrong. And god forbid Momo actually heard me out anytime I tried to bring it up. Said I needed to let her 'grow up'. Eventually we went our final tour, and she was supposed to come out with us after we got back, so Hisagi and I went over to her house to pick her up. And there she was, all grown up with her fucking wrists slashed open."
His voice hitched on the last beat and he stopped, hanging his head so his hair covered his face. Karin felt the phrase 'I'm sorry' catch in her throat, molding around the lump that had closed it shut. She wasn't about to say that, such a frivolous and unhelpful thing. She'd gotten so many after her mother died, and not one of them cured her of the pain, nor did they make her mother any less dead.
"She'd taken a bunch of painkillers, enough to overdose. It was like they didn't work fast enough for her, so she had to go to plan B. She had to die as quickly as possible." Toushiro didn't try to hide the sorrow in his voice now, such a fruitless act to begin with. He didn't look directly at her either, his gaze cast aimlessly the entire time he spoke. "She had bruises all over her, a brand new gash on her forehead. It was so obvious what happened, why she was so different. It was that piece of shit's fault, but nobody believed me. Hisagi and them said that I needed help, that it was just my grief…
'I wanted out of the contract, and eventually I managed to get out of it, just without any royalties. Which was fine, but I wasn't told that my leaving also meant that the rest of the band would be dropped from the label too, until it was already done. They didn't really stick around after that."
He sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. A sad smirk fixed his face, an unfocused gaze settling on her. "Now here I am, fucked up and alone."
He scoffed then, low and caustic, drawing a hand to his forehead. His massaged his temples, attempting to keep himself steady with moderate breaths. Karin stared down at their feet, her brows drawn together in a thoughtful furrow. She didn't even know what to think, her chest tight and constricted. She looked up at Toushiro with a catastrophic mind, meddled with all the new information, and he looked so beside himself, isolated like he always is despite being so close to her. At that moment she stopped trying to formulate a response, gave up on her attempts to string all the right words together. She straightened herself gently, determinedly quiet as she took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.
She only met his stare briefly, her expression soft and reassuring, a look he hadn't gotten in a long time. It resonated in his chest long after she looked away, and he found himself holding fast to her touch, like an illusion he was desperate to sustain.
He almost felt okay.
.
A/N: Holy shit this got long. But I guess with like 4 intertwining conflicts it was bound to happen. I've been wanting to post this chapter for fucking ever, and I'm excited to see what you guys think. Your reviews keep me alive, I love you all.
Until next time~
