Disclaimer: Masayoshi, Aimi and Chiyoko are mine, but the others all belong to Kubo Tite.

xxx

Let grief convert to anger

"Masayoshi..."

"What!"

He regretted the word - or rather the tone in which he had said it - as soon as it left his mouth. It did not matter how irritable he felt those days, it simply was not right to take it out on dear Aimi. Quickly, he added:

"I'm sorry."

She smiled her soft indulgent smile and said gently:

"I know this is hard on you."

This was an understatement if he had ever heard one. The situation with Yumichika was worsening by the day, and Masayoshi was quickly running out of ideas and options. Jyuu had been right after all: the boy was not adapting well at all to his new circumstances. It had been five months now that Ikkaku-san had left, and a terrible anger had replaced the staunch denial in the kid's heart. It was clear that Yumichika was struggling mightily to keep his emotions under control, but the anger burst out of him several times a day now, aimed at everybody and nobody in particular.

"What is hard is to not be able to do anything to help him. If only he would speak to us!"

Masayoshi sighed and pinched his nose. He hated this feeling of helplessness that invaded him every time Yumichika became upset and ran away instead of letting someone help him. Here he was, Ayasegawa Masayoshi, an old man with centuries upon centuries of experience dealing with all kinds of people, and he did not seem to be able to connect with a little boy... It was infuriating, really. Especially considering that someone as rough and simple as Ikkaku-san had managed it just fine apparently...

Aimi's gentle voice cut through his thoughts once again:

"It's not your fault, Yoshi. He just..."

He felt weary and irritated again.

"Of course it's my fault. I was the one who got him into this situation, was I not?"

"How so, dear?"

He sighed heavily. Was Aimi blind? Did she not see...?

"I wanted Ikkaku-san to leave. I wanted Yumi-kun all to myself. I... I did all of this."

To his surprise, Aimi nodded and smiled indulgently again.

"That's quite true. You wanted Ikkaku-san to leave. But Yoshi... You did not make him leave. That was his choice, not yours."

This did not make him feel any better, far from it.

"I manipulated him into making that choice!"

"Then why were you so surprised when he left?"

The question stunned him. He opened his mouth, but found that he had no answer. His wife went on:

"You wanted him to leave, yes, but you did not expect him to do so. There is a big difference between the two."

He thought about her arguments, and soon found the flaw in her reasoning.

"I should have anticipated his decision. I should have stopped him from leaving."

"But you did not expect him to..."

He felt the anger rise in him again.

"Then I should have looked for him as soon as he left! I... I should have looked for him myself. I should not have tricked poor Yumi-kun into telling me not to look for him. I should have gone and forced him to come back!"

His blood was boiling again. It was ironic, really, that he should be so upset at Yumichika's anger, when he himself was being so angry too. He was angry at Ikkaku-san for leaving and making such a mess of the boy's life, and by extension the whole family's life. He was angry at Yumichika for being so stubborn, so reclusive, so... But most of all, he was angry at himself for interfering with those two friends' lives, for pulling them apart for his own selfish motives, and for waiting until it was too late to acknowledge his faults.

He felt his wife's arms encircling his waist. He closed his eyes, buried his face in her hair, balled his hands into fists and muttered through his clenched jaws:

"Oh, Aimi, what have I done...!"

xxx

Yumichika was running as fast as he could, but he could still hear his pursuer keeping up with him just a few dozen paces behind him. Stupid girl! Who would have thought that the pretty princess could also be such an accomplished tomboy? For a fleeting moment, he thought of unsheathing his zanpakutou and attacking Chiyoko-san - her father had trained her well enough in the art of sword-fighting, but this was nonetheless a domain in which Yumichika was far better than she. But he did not really want to hurt her; he only wanted her to leave him alone.

Not that it would make much difference if she did anyway: he knew that her father could find him wherever he hid in the district, so one way or another, he would be taken back to the estate at the end of the day. But if only he could be left alone until then... He did not want to see anyone these days. They all annoyed him.

He did not want to see Aimi-sama and her sad eyes. He did not need her concern and her gentleness and her patience. Every time he saw her, he wanted to scream at her to stop being so nice, that it was smothering him, that he felt like he could not breathe anymore every time he was around her. Why could she not leave him alone?

He did not want to see the shinigami, Jyuushirou-sama and Retsu-sama. He could not stand the way they kept trying to pretend that everything was all right, or would be all right in the end. Nothing was all right, and nothing was going to be all right, and he wanted them to stop, just stop pretending!

He definitely did not want to see Masayoshi-sensei. Not now, not ever. He hated the old man. It was all his fault! If he had not talked to Ikkaku that day... If he had not made Ikkaku feel like dirt by pushing his fortune and his greatness and his power in the fighter's face...

And if he, Yumichika, had only spoken up... If he had not been so greedy, if he had refused the sword, if he had demanded that Ikkaku and he leave the house like he wanted to! Yumichika despised and abhorred himself for the role he had involuntarily played in Ikkaku choosing to leave. If only he had told the fighter what he really thought...

But then, he remembered in a new surge of anger, if only Ikkaku had been honest with him too! Why had his friend pretended that everything was all right when everything was all wrong? Why had he not told Yumichika what was really going through his head? And most of all, why had he not asked Yumichika what he wanted, who he wanted to live with! Yumichika would have told him, he would have told him in a heartbeat that he wanted to stay with him... Stupid, stupid Ikkaku!

Hot tears of anger were blinding him once again, and he had to slow down to avoid running into someone, or into a wall. Chiyoko-san seemed to take that as an invitation to catch up with him, but he stubbornly ignored her when she appeared by his side, and he pretended not to hear her when she spoke.

"Yumi-kun?... Yumi-kun, speak to me... Please?"

Go away! Leave me alone!

"Yumichika... I know you're angry, and I guess you don't want to talk to me, but... It really helps sometimes when you talk to someone, you know."

Go! Away!

He did not want to look at her, he did not want to listen to her, he did not want her to be there. Why could she not understand that?

She sighed impatiently.

"Look, Yumi-kun, I don't like this any more than you do. Do you think it's fun for me to spend my days running after you? Well, it's not! I've got better things to do, you know!"

She seemed upset and, strangely, it made him feel better. He could deal with anger far better than he could deal with niceness. He kept his gaze resolutely fixed in front of him as he snapped:

"Then go do them!"

She humphed. "I can't! Otou-san wants me to follow you everywhere you go whenever you leave the estate, you know that!"

The mention of her father made a fresh wave of irritation surge in his belly.

"I don't care what he wants!"

"Well, I do!", she replied angrily.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They walked in silence for a long while after that. Slowly, he felt his anger abate. He knew it would not last - someone would inevitably do or say something, sooner or later, that would irritate him, and it would all start again - but he enjoyed the reprieve while it lasted. The momentary peace must have shown on his face, because as they were passing a tea house, Chiyoko-san quietly offered to stop for a cup of tea and a rice cake. He hesitated, but then his stomach reminded him that he had run away just before lunch, and he admitted with a twinge of shame that he was feeling very hungry indeed.

She ordered food and tea for both of them; he knew she did not need any of it, and felt a vague hint of gratitude touch his heart at her silent attempt at a display of support. They drank and ate in silence, until Chiyoko-san said in a very soft voice:

"I'd be mad too if it were me."

At first, he could not understand why her words moved him so deeply. And then he realised with a mild shock that she was the first one who chose to simply acknowledge his situation as it was, instead of telling him that everything was going to be all right, or that he should do this or that to make things better. His throat tightened a bit.

"Thank you."

She smiled, but it was not her usual big grin, nor was it the sad smile all the adults had been giving him lately. It was just a soft little smile that did not pretend to offer any fake comfort or to know some bit of wisdom he did not.

"Yumi-kun--"

He stopped her. "Chiyoko-san?"

She looked at him expectantly. "Yes?"

He hesitated. It sounded so foolish, and yet he felt she was the only one he could ask this from.

"Could... Could you call me Yumichika?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Sure, but... Why?"

He bit his lip. He wanted to tell her, but he could not. It was so stupid, so childish... To his surprise, he saw her mouth open at she guessed the answer.

"That's how he...!"

He scowled; she quickly closed her mouth again. But she did not laugh, and she did not smile. She just looked at him intently, before slowly nodding.

"All right. Under one condition though."

He frowned. "What?"

She winked. "You call me Chi-chan."

He started. Upon reflection, though, he figured it was a fair deal.

"All right."

She smiled her big grin. "Good! Now what do you say we go back home before Otou-san and his friends come looking for us?"

There she had gone and done it; he gritted his teeth as his nerves tingled with anger and irritation again. The estate, her father, the shinigami... He wanted to forget all about them, not go back to them!

She stopped smiling and frowned slightly.

"Yumichika?"

He looked up warily at her. "Yes?"

"I... I'll be there. Just... come and tell me, if they annoy you too much, all right? I know ways to get away for a while."

She winked again, but her small smile told him she was being serious, and it made him feel just a little bit better.

xxx

" Ow! "

Pain temporarily blinded Ikkaku as his opponent's fist landed right on his nose. Gingerly, he touched his face and was grimly satisfied to discover that his nose was broken - again. This was going to hurt for a few days at least, which was good: he welcomed physical pain. That was, after all, the reason he engaged in these lowly unarmed street fights in the first place.

Grinning, he returned the favour: "Take that!"

Adrenaline rushed through him as his attacker dropped to the ground and the whole pack of his friends pounced on Ikkaku. A punch here, a kick there, a stranglehold, a twisted arm or two... This was all good fun, but more importantly this allowed him to vent the terrible anger and frustration that had been eating at him for days.

A punch for His Highness Ayasegawa Masayoshi-sama. Ikkaku cursed the day the old man had crossed Yumichika's and his path. Sure, without him, they would probably both be dead by now, but this... This life, this Hell of a life without Yumichika, this was worse than death! Death would not, could not hurt so badly. Darn Masayoshi-sama and his wealth, and his power and his family - his perfect family... Ikkaku groaned in resentment and buried his fist in yet another belly.

It was almost funny, really, how easy it was to find such groups of shabby, two-bit thugs to play with, in the lower districts of Rukongai - not a place His Highness would be found in, Ikkaku thought with a scowl. Apparently, an impressive number of idiots seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he did: fight, yeah, die, heck no! Sometimes, he just had to enter a tavern, or even turn a street corner, covered in bruises and scratches and old bandages, and there they would be, little gangs of bullies looking at him with leering faces and already cracking their knuckles. He found it rather practical, quite frankly: it saved him the trouble of having to go search for them whenever he needed a good fight.

And he sure needed one right now. His thoughts moved on to Yumichika as he lifted his leg to kick a particularly ugly incoming face. Yumichika and his beautiful face. Yumichika and his incredible determination, his quietly passionate spirit. Yumichika and his undying trust... How was he feeling now? Had he forgotten Ikkaku already? Or was he - Ikkaku's heart contracted a bit at the thought - still thinking of him and maybe even missing him?

This was so unfair! Ikkaku had never intended for the two of them to get so close, he had never meant to become so important in Yumichika's life. He had not wanted for the kid to come to depend so much on him, and he most definitely had never thought that he, Madarame Ikkaku, lonely adventurer extraordinaire, would ever get so attached to some little runt of a brat. Darn, stupid Yumichika who had changed all that, who had made him all weak! With a roar of frustration, Ikkaku brought his knee up into a chin and grinned a bit more widely as he felt the jaw break.

As he grabbed one of the thugs by the back of his collar and started using him as a human shield, Ikkaku could not help but reflect on how ridiculous it was, really, to get so upset over something that was all past and done. It was over, he was rid of the kid! No more ties, no more obligations, no more questions and requests and whatnot, so when was he going to start living his own life again, instead of just trying to forget the one he had with Yumichika! How long would it take before he stopped feeling so lonely, before he stopped waking up in the morning with the feeling that his life had no purpose, that he had no reason to live! With a shout of rage, he threw the thug, who by now had been inadvertently beaten unconscious by his own comrades, into the lot of them, knocking several of them over.

His anger with everything and everyone, with the whole Universe, was almost blinding him, and he looked around him for some kind of blunt weapon he could use to bring an end to the fight without needlessly killing everyone. His gaze found a wooden club lying on the floor; he picked it up and started swinging it wildly around him. He felt it making contact with various pieces of anatomy - echoing sounds when it hit a head, blunter sounds when it hit a limb - and it was as though a little piece of his anger dissipated with each hit.

Bam! Stupid messed-up Soul Society...

Bang! Stupid Hollows...

Poof! Stupid shinigami...

Thack! Stupid reiatsu...

Pang! Stupid needless complicated feelings...

Paf! Bam! Tak! Stupid... Stupid... Everything!

Panting, Ikkaku looked around him. All the thugs were lying in the dirt, unconscious. He let the club go and dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. He was exhausted, he was covered in dirt, sweat and blood - not all his - , but he was finally feeling a little bit of peace inside. Well, a little bit of emptiness, to be accurate, but this was still better than the overwhelming anger and frustration that had filled him earlier. It would all come back, he knew it, but he could rest a little, forget a little, in the meantime.

He grunted as the voice in his head chuckled appreciatively: "Well done!" At least someone was happy...