Chapter Eighty Three:

There was a carnival in town, stalls and rides flooding the park with vibrant colours and loud music, the sound of laughter and life as the residents of Karakura turned out to enjoy the fading chill of winter and excitement. Men, women, children, grandparents, friends. Everyone was welcome, everyone was equal.

Ichigo watched as the Ishida's wandered amidst the chaotic throng of Humans. Kaida and Hotaru were practically bursting with excitement, asking to go on all the rides, begging for sweets and drinks and fun. Ishida and Orihime didn't seem capable of saying no when they saw how happy their children were.

He'd accompanied them, but soon after arriving he'd left them to go off on their own. He didn't want to be a burden, an add-on to their perfect little family. He knew he was welcome, he was always welcome. But Ichigo didn't want that. He didn't want to be a spare part. He didn't want to pretend he was okay.

It had only been a few short weeks since he'd finally woken up from losing his Shinigami powers. According to his Human friends, he had been unconscious for little over a month as his body adjusted to no longer having reiatsu. Apparently, Urahara had guided him through a Reishi Henkan-Ki to allow his Shinigami body to return to a Human one.

Those first few days of consciousness had been horrific. Simple tasks like eating and drinking had made him ill, his body taking time to realise it no longer needed to use food as fuel to maintain his reiatsu. He'd been sick, very sick. Throwing up violently after every meal, after a simple cup of tea. There had been moments... Brief moments amidst the pain where he wondered if death would have been kinder.

But he was beyond that now. Sometimes his skin felt a little too tight, like it was a Gigai, but he thought perhaps that was his imagination. He could eat and drink, he could sleep and rest. The dark thoughts of escaping the pain were gone, the agony of being separated from Byakuya remained.

His heart ached almost constantly, like a slowly churning chill that reached above and beyond the organ's fleshy muscle. It was a Soul deep pain. Like he had been torn away from his soul mate. Part of his very being. A limb.

He woke in the night, longing for raven hair and steel eyes. A warm embrace to comfort him, a strong embrace to protect him, a loving embrace to remind him that he had overcome the darkness. Byakuya. They should have been planning their wedding.

Instead he was standing by an apple candy van in Karakura town while he watched his Human friends enjoying fun that seemed stale to him. He would smile and wave whenever they looked at him, but he couldn't feel the excitement they did. He was now more Hollow than Shiro had ever been.

He would be finding his own place soon, he couldn't keep leeching off the Ishida's, even if they didn't mind and had a spare room. Ichigo knew that Chad had offered to help him find a decent apartment nearby so that he could still spend time with the twins. They were little beams of sunlight that pierced the darkness of his self inflicted depression.

Hugging his jacket a little closer, Ichigo took in the smells and sights of the carnival. Greasy food, sugary drinks, the subtle hint of body odour from the overworked staff, the sweet scent of candyfloss, the still slightly hard soil beneath his feet that hadn't quite softened after the morning frosts had passed.

Karakura town. His home. His prison.

He hadn't heard of any Shinigami visiting the area, he was sure Ishida would have mentioned it. No, they were all staying away and he didn't know why. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of anger. He'd sacrificed his life as a Shinigami to protect them, to pick up the pieces of a battle they'd been too weak to finish. He'd suffered for them. He'd almost died for them. And they couldn't even bare to thank him.

Groaning under his breath, Ichigo scowled at his feet. Regret filling him at the dark thoughts. The hate.

He was sure it wasn't their fault. There would have been a huge amount of work to take care of, repairs and official documentation. Aizen's trial. An account of those killed by Izanshi. An account of those killed in the battle. He didn't know who had survived and who had died. He couldn't bring himself to visit Urahara's shop. He couldn't bare to see the man.

He knew that Urahara utilised a Gigai almost permanently in the World of the Living, but the idea of going to that store... Of opening those doors and stepping inside. The smell of tatami flooring, the sight of shōji walls. Too many memories.

The fear... The overwhelming fear of stepping over the threshold and sitting at the table, not even knowing if a Shinigami was sat beside him, invisible to his eyes. It was too much. He couldn't do it. Not yet.

On the plus side, he'd been able to reconnect with some of his other childhood friends. Keigo, Mizuiro and Tatsuki. Ishida and Orihime had sat them down in their home, and told them everything. Apparently all three of them had enough reiatsu that they'd sensed the huge battle with Aizen, although at the time they hadn't understood.

When he'd entered the room, proving that the Ishida family weren't insane, proving he was alive... Tatsuki had punched him in the face, breaking his nose. He could understand her anger. Since then he'd met up with Keigo at least twice, the man had offered him a job in his nightclub whenever he was up to it. It made sense to accept the offer... He would need money, Human money if he was going to pay the rent for his apartment when he got it.

Human stuff... A job, a home, friends. It didn't sound so different to Soul Society initially. But then his job would no longer entail helping to run a Division, it would no longer involve killing Hollows or training to win a war. He would be forced to succumb to the monotony of day to day life. He... A warrior and a soldier... Would have to adjust to being a normal Human man.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't frightened of it.

He'd been strong, he'd been fast and he'd been able to protect the people he loved. But he'd surrendered it all to finish the fight. It was worth it, knowing that Karakura town and Seireitei was safe because of him. But it was a bitter and empty victory.

Was it selfish... To have regrets about saving them? Was it selfish to wish there had been another way?

Maybe it wasn't over. Maybe the Goeti Thirteen hadn't forgotten him. Maybe... Maybe they were biding their time, trying to find a way to help him. To bring him back! But then... Would they really risk it? They'd accepted his help because he stood the greatest chance of beating Aizen, there had never been a confirmed forgiveness about his original treachery. Maybe... Maybe they had decided that this would be his punishment. His atonement. To live as a Human. Maybe they had given up on him.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Ichigo forced a smile onto his face as Kaida ran towards him, he crouched down and hugged her tightly as she showed him the stuffed bear her father had won her. Her fingers were tight in the short tufts of orange hair atop his head and he knew without a doubt that he would sacrifice everything all over again if it meant she could live.

She was worth it. Her brother was worth it.

Time would tell if Soul Society had abandoned him. Time would tell if Byakuya had left him. While he waited he could at least try to live a life. Maybe he could even try to live the life he'd lost as a result of Aizen. It was worth a try. It was worth the time.

Smiling as she ran back to her parents, he straightened up slowly, he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, watching as the Ishida's disappeared out of sight, moving deeper into the heart of the carnival no doubt. Feeling a frigid blast of air rush around him before the slowly warming sun beat down on him again, the light was blinding and he was almost immediately reminded of his battle with Aizen.

He felt the burn of the Kidō surround his body. He was certain that for a moment he had blinded himself permanently. The horizontal arc of yellow that he released mingled with the power of the lightning in his right hand, exploding between their bodies with an intensity he'd never felt from Kidō before.

The detonation was calamitous. Ichigo felt like his body was being torn apart. He could feel the heat of blood washing over him and he wasn't sure if it was his own or Aizen's. Or a mixture of both. He heard the brunet release a cry of pain, but his own seemed to drown it out as he hit the floor. He skidded, the grit and rocks cutting into his skin as he came to a stop face down in the dirt.

Flinching, the strawberry swallowed back the choke-hold of emotion he felt clawing at him. It had been a battle like no other he'd ever experienced. A literal crawl for survival. Not his own, but his friend's. The pain, the blood, the fear. He remembered it all. It made his fingers twitch in the urge to reach for Zangetsu's hilt. His eyes dropped at the foolish memory. Zangetsu was gone. Shiro was gone.

His mind was silent.

Tensa seemed to press into his touch, teeth clenched as if experiencing physical pain as a broken sob escaped his lips, his fingers slowly loosened on the white hilt of the blade, hands falling to his sides as his body arched forwards. Ichigo could barely stand to see him so broken, so hurt. But he didn't understand.

Their eyes met for a long moment, Tensa's voice cracking with emotion, "The Final Getsuga Tenshou... This blade will teach you the meaning soon enough. Together with the essentials of the technique. Ichigo... If you use this technique you will..."

Letting out a long breath, he pulled his hand from his pocket and stared at his palm. He could almost remember the feeling of Tensa's cheek against his skin. Damp from tears and sweat, but soft beneath the pads of his fingers.

It was only because he had accepted Tensa's blade that he had achieved the Final Getsuga Tenshou. It was only because of Tensa and Shiro that he had defeated Aizen. He owed them everything, absolutely everything! But he couldn't thank them. He couldn't see them. His mind was devoid of any voice other than his own.

He was alone.

"Your sword... It is practically screaming for someone to hear it. For someone to care. For someone to understand. Our Zanpakutō are reflections of ourselves... Of our very Souls." His head tilted to one side, gaze entirely focused on Kyoka Suigetsu's blade, "I understand now. Why you said you'd build me somewhere that I could be myself. You weren't just making that promise to me, you were making it to yourself as well. Your sword is lonely. You are lonely."

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo's fingers clenched into a tight fist. What kind of sick trick was it... For him to realise the truth behind all of Aizen's motivation only to yield to the same thing himself. He was desperately lonely. So lonely it felt like he was drowning. Kaida and Hotaru only dulled the sensation, they could never cure it.

For years he had supplemented his feelings with fighting and killing and... Sex. He'd been addicted to the feelings roused by the activity. Those few fleeting seconds of adrenaline and emotion in the wake of a powerful, leg quaking orgasm.

First, his fellow students in Shino... Any of them who looked at him like they were interested. He'd used them, fucked them and then thrown them out.

Second, Aizen... He had experienced incredibly and breathtaking sex with that man with the added benefit of being able to kill for him. Even though his skin still crawled with the memory of that man touching him, he had never once denied that the sex had been amazing.

Last came Byakuya. The man who'd woken his heart and saved him from himself. He remembered the weeks of frustration, wanting to have him... Wanting to feel his touch... Resisting because of the modified Gikon, only to finally come together. It had been mind blowing, it had been pure. It had been everything he'd never had. Tender, gentle, deep, passionate. Loving.

Fighting... Killing... Sex... They'd kept him sane in the past. But now he was cut off from all three of those crutches. He had kept all of his physical strength and talents, but if he got into fights he would be setting a bad example for the twins. Killing was out of the question, he wasn't an emotionless machine anymore. Sex... He craved it like a drug, his body aching without that stimulation and passion but he couldn't... He couldn't...

He couldn't betray Byakuya like that. There was still a chance they could... He didn't know how but there was still a chance! Surely... There had to be...

Byakuya would be getting the Kuchiki Clan in order after discovering Norio's murder. He'd be completely bogged down with official business, documentation, accounting for a new Head Elder... He'd be so busy and who knew how long it could take to get it all sorted. But then afterwards... Maybe when everything done and sorted and finished... Maybe he'd visit Karakura town.

Somehow they could make it work! Somehow... They'd gotten through more difficult situations. They'd gotten through so much together. Surely something like distance wouldn't break them.

In the meantime, Ichigo had no choice but to simply carry on. Do his best. Keep his cool. Survive. His loneliness, his sadness... He could cope with it. He could. He was sure of it. He just had to fill his time with everything and anything that could be a distraction.

Working for Keigo. Attending Tatsuki's dōjō. Babysitting for Ishida and Orihime. Maybe he could get Chad to teach him how to play the guitar. He had options. He just had to sit tight and wait. He could do that. He'd done it before. He could survive this. He had to.

Pushing away from the apple candy stand, he finally allowed himself the chance to explore the area. He wasn't truly in the right frame of mind to take interest, but he allowed his eyes to casually glance over the various brightly coloured stalls and plush toys that acted as rewards for various games.

There were several Kingyo Sukui, with both kids and adults clustered around the pools of water scooping little colourful goldfish with vigour and zeal. He could see Hotaru standing with Orihime as she tried to capture him an elegant looking goldfish in shades of white and crimson. She wasn't doing very well, but the amount of effort she was giving it made him smile.

There were super ball Sukui games too, thousands of little coloured balls floating on the surface of the water, there were easily a dozen children gathered around frantically trying to collect the balls, probably without even realising that they were heavier than the fish. The sound of peeling laughter and excited squeals made him shake his head as he carried on by.

He made a point of stopping by the Ningyo Sukui, managing to fish out a little rubber toy for Kaida and Hotaru. One was a little green turtle, the other was a bright yellow bird. He knew they would appreciate it, even if they were only small trinkets.

There was a ring tossing stall, he saw several adults standing around examining it, apparently gauging whether or not to give it a bash. He watched with meagre interest as most of those present failed to even get a single hoop around a prize. He was sure he could succeed if he wanted to but... Nothing took his interest from the prizes and he carried on walking.

Ichigo came to a stop as he found a wall of ornamental looking masks, they were elaborate and brightly coloured, different faces, different characters, different depictions on every single one. There was no mask the same.

He felt his blood run cold as he found himself looking at a gorgeous samurai mask, it was blood red with elaborate gold filament coiling across the cheeks and forehead like a delicate wave of petals, the mouth was open wide to reveal golden fangs. It was beautiful, it was ornate and seemed like a well made piece of art.

He wasn't sure why it had made him feel so cold, but something... Something vague and silent seemed so familiar about it that his Soul began to ache. It ached so much that he almost couldn't draw breath.

"But you've seen Zangetsu... And Shiro! You said it is rare for other people to be able to see each other's Zanpakutō spirits, yet you've somehow seen both of mine." Ichigo pouted, folding his arms as he leaned against the bookshelf in Byakuya's mansion study, "Is it so strange that I would be curious about what Senbonzakura looks like?"

"It's not strange but... It's hard for me to explain." The nobleman muttered in response, snapping his book shut as he stared across at the strawberry, "It would be like trying to describe a piece of my very being."

"If you don't at least try I'm going to spend the rest of my life thinking your Zanpakutō is a talking tree." He said, only half serious.

Byakuya broke out into a laugh, it was wholesome and full and the nobleman had to cover his mouth with his hand to silence it, "A talking tree? Truly?"

"Please... At least try?"

"Very well..." A roll of the eyes came before the Kuchiki heir rose to his feet and ensnared Ichigo in his arms, "His personality is very... Different to mine in some respects. He talks a lot, and often speaks freely of his emotions. While he appears very calm and collected among others, in reality he can be annoyingly childish and hypocritical. He rarely accepts blame for anything that is actually his fault. And he is easily angered by the mistakes of others..."

"I'm sorry, you said your personalities were different?" Ichigo teased.

The nobleman glared playfully, "Well... Ugh, I suppose the truth is that Senbonzakura's temperament actually mirrors my own from my youth. I have noted before that my temper was explosive, and I... Could be somewhat childish when annoyed. But... I wouldn't have him any other way. He's loyal, respectful and diligent. He's proven himself many times and... I would be lost without him."

The strawberry smiled faintly, "He sounds perfectly suitable for the Head of the Kuchiki Clan."

"Yes... In more ways than one. Do you know, ever since my father's death he has worn a mask." He sighed softly, "I wonder if it is a mark of respect, or simply a reflection that I too donned a mask after his passing, to protect myself. That almost unbreakable mask... It would easily be befitting for a samurai."

Ichigo's shoulders slumped suddenly and he sucked in a shaky breath. He reached out and plucked the mask from the wall, holding it a little closer to inspect every lingering detail. It seemed strange that such a simple thing would rouse such a strong memory. But everything was still raw. Maybe it made sense.

Whether it was sentimentality or not, Ichigo bought the mask, stowing it within his coat to display when he got his own place. It would be a nice reminder. A little lingering memory. Maybe it was stupid but he didn't care. If he was ever going to move on, if he was ever going to survive he had to make sure the memories he had stopped hurting.

As he turned away from the wall of masks, a body crashed into his own and knocked him flying. He growled out as he hit the hard floor, glaring up at whoever was responsible. It was a man, easily a head taller than he was with a long sweep of shoulder length black hair that was pulled up into a tail, he had a startling shade of jade green eyes. He seemed muscled, toned, but lean.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" The man said, instantly leaning down and holding a hand out to help Ichigo back to his feet.

"Yeah... Well... You have eyes for a reason." He muttered sharply, but accepted his hand and allowed himself to be hauled back to his feet.

"Sorry... I'm really sorry. Are you okay? You're not hurt right?" Green eyes were scanning left, right and centre for injuries.

"No... I'm fine." Ichigo huffed and sucked in a breath, "What about you?"

"Me?" A startled blink, "I'm fine! But... Thanks for asking."

"No problem." He brushed his jeans down, removing several small crumbs of dried dirt, by the time he'd looked back up the man was gone and Ichigo was left looking around in confusion, "Damn he moves fast... Didn't even get his name. Asshole."

He tutted and made sure the mask he'd bought was intact before striding off to find the Ishida family. It was growing late and undoubtedly the family unit would be returning home before long for food, the twins had school in the morning so they'd be requiring sleep as well.

Greeted with a hug from both children, he flourished the small toys he'd won them, happy when he saw their faces light up with glee. As he'd expected, Kaida took the yellow bird while her brother favoured the green turtle. They thanked him eagerly without prompting from their parents and stowed the trinkets in their pockets.

"Are you ready to leave, Kurosaki?" Ishida asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." He replied with a half shrug, "Did you two have fun?"

"Yes Ichi-ji!" Kaida beamed up at him.

"It was so cool." Hotaru agreed.

"Good." He smiled.

He spoke little on the way back to the house, instead enjoying listening as the twins regaled him with stories about the games they'd played and the sweet treats they'd been allowed to eat. Once or twice he caught Orihime watching him, her expression somewhere between serene and sad and he could only imagine she was wondering how he was coping. She'd tried asking, he always cut her off and changed the subject. It was one thing to be stuck in his own head, thinking about what he'd lost... Talking to another person about it was never going to happen. Not a chance. He wouldn't... He... He couldn't do it. Not yet.

He had to power through, in his own way... Or he'd go mad.