I would like everyone to know that I am cross-posting the story. It is already on AO3 under the same name. Every new update will appear there first before here.
"Dude, that was awesome!"
Ichigo turns to the sound of the voice, one hand still holding onto the shirt collar of a yakuza, keeping the man up.
There, at the mouth of the alley, stands a girl his age. With bleached blonde hair, way too much mascara and eyeliner, and an untucked uniform, Kurosaki Ichigo knew that the girl is trouble.
It was ironic how he, a boy more often than not called a punk for his unnaturally natural orange hair, often scowling, often fighting yakuza and wannabe gangs, could say that.
"Name's Cherī." She says, walking over the unconscious men that litter the ground, occasionally skipping over some while wearing heels, until she stands in front of him.
He stares at her, slightly baffled. "Kurosaki Ichigo."
"Nice. Strawberry, rite?" She is grinning, though not cruelly. She appears to be genuinely curious about his name.
"First protector." He automatically corrects.
"Ah, sorry 'bout that." She looks around, idly swinging her bookbag. "Who're ya protectin'?"
"What?" He drops the man, who groans upon impact.
"Who're ya protectin'? Ya said yer a protector, so who're ya protectin'?" Her eyes meet his. She has unnaturally blue eyes.
He opens his mouth to say the familiar word of "Everyone" before closing it again. He can't protect everyone, he can't protect anyone. He is powerless. So, instead, he says, "No one," and makes his way out of the alley, signifying the end of the conversation.
Unfortunately, the girl follows. "What'cha mean 'no one'?"
He scowls, "I mean 'no one'. There's no one I can protect." Not anymore.
"'Course there is. Yer protectin' yerself, aren't'cha?" She says this as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He stops and looks at her. At this, she continues, "Ya can't say yer not protectin' anyone when yer protectin' yerself. Ya need ta' protect yerself before ya can protect anyone else." She says this as though it is a quote she had heard once and remembered it just so she could say it to someone.
"What if there's no one else for me to protect?" He asks, not quite sure why he is continuing to talk to this girl.
"Then ya keep protectin' yerself 'till ya find someone worth protectin'." She grins again.
He blinks. "You have lipstick on your teeth."
Ichigo is half expecting the girl to transfer into his class, just like the shinigami and Shinji had done, but no, she doesn't appear.
He crushes the disappointment that arises in his chest when she doesn't.
It doesn't matter, he isn't a shinigami anymore, so it doesn't make sense for whatever the hell the girl – Cherī – is to seek him out. That portion of his life is over and he needs to accept it. That is in the past.
(-But the past is never dead-)
Except,
Except he doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to be powerless. Doesn't want to watch Inoue, Chad and Ishida run out of class to fight Hollows. Doesn't want the pitying looks his teacher gives him whenever that happens. Doesn't want for his sister to sneak out and do whatever she does. Doesn't want for his father to keep acting like nothing has happened, like Ichigo doesn't know that he used to be a captain.
Doesn't want his friends to pretend like he doesn't know about Hollows, like he didn't fight in a fucking war, like he didn't die saving one of them.
He doesn't want any of that.
So what does he do?
He seeks out the girl that practically screams trouble.
It was nearing the end of lunch when he finally finds her.
She is leaning against a wall, looking at her phone. She doesn't appear to notice, nor does she appear to expect him.
"Cherī," He says, placing himself next to her, arms crossed and glaring at the opposite wall.
"Oh, hey Ichigo." She says, turning her head to look at him and closing her phone. "What's up?"
He shrugs, "Nothing much."
They lapse into silence.
She doesn't try to start a conversation, she just opens her phone and keeps on scrolling and tapping. He chances a glance and sees that it is a conversation. Something about a guy ghosting the person Cherī is texting after they said 'I love you'.
"How are you liking the school?" He asks, wanting to get things over with as quickly as possible.
"'s alright. How did ya know Ah'm new?"
"You could say I have a sixth sense for knowing when someone new transfers." Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth.
She scrunches up her nose, whether at him or at the text she just received he wasn't sure. After writing and rewriting her response and sending it does she turn to face him. "Yer friends wit' da teachers, aren't'cha? That's how ya knew Ah was new." She smiles, like she just solved the puzzle.
He snorts rudely. "Please. Like this," He gestures to his hair, "could ever make the teachers like me."
"Eh," She flaps her hand, "Ya never know. If yer sweet an' polite an' don't make any noise during class, da teachers will love ya."
"It sounds like you speak from experience."
"That's how Ah used ta' be in middle school. An' da first year of high school as well, before we moved, 'course."
"Why did you move?"
"Ma' pa got transferred so off we went. What 'bout ya? Have ya always lived 'ere?"
"Yeah, my whole life."
"An' afterwards?"
"What?" Did she mean Soul Society?
"Ya know, after graduation. Do ya plan on stayin 'ere or will ya move?"
"Oh," He rubs his neck. This was the first time he had to seriously think about what he would do after high school. There was never quite enough time to do that when he was too busy saving the three worlds from a megalomaniac with a God complex. "Not sure."
She nods in understanding. "Same. Might take a year off ta' try an' "discover myself"." He got to see her neon coloured nails when she did the air quotes. "But that's just so ma' parents would get off ma' back."
"They're forcing you to do something?"
"Not quite. They just want me ta' make an honest livin'. Ma' ma wants me ta' take over when she retires, an' ma' pa wants me ta' be anythin' but a bartender. Joke's on 'im, Ah can just become a stripper!" She laughs at her joke. "Ya know, 'cuz he says anything but a bartender, so Ah can be a stripper." She says when he doesn't laugh.
"Yeah, I get it." He is dumbfounded by this girl.
"Can Ah ask ya sumthin?"
"Sure?"
"Where'dja get yer hair done in that colour. Been thinkin' of dyein' mine soon but don't know any good hairdressers 'round."
Ichigo is surprised to not feel the familiar anger whenever someone assumes his hair is bleached. "It's natural."
She gaps. "Shut up."
"It is." Is that a hint of smugness that he is feeling?
"No way. Ya lucky bastard!" She laughs, knocking their shoulders. "Ah would kill ta' have hair like that! Instead, Ah'm stuck wit' borin' black. At least ma' eyes're a light blue."
"That's light blue?" He tilts his head to examine her eyes. Yep, still an intense blue.
"Yeah, Ah'm just using contacts fer a brighter colour. Not all of us can have orange eyes."
"I don't have orange eyes."
She frowns and gets on her tiptoes to see his face. He leans down a bit to help her. "Ah, ma' mistake. Ah guess in da right light they look orange. Or is it amber?" She gets down, eyes looking to the upper left in thought.
"I think they're similar?"
She nods. "Yer probably right."
It is then that the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.
"Anyway, see ya."
It is only as he is sitting in math class that he realises that he didn't ask her what she wanted.
"Ya always fight before school or is this a coincidence?"
Ichigo looks up to see Cherī standing in the opening of the alley. Her uniform is tucked in properly today.
"They made fun of my hair." He says, as though that was a good excuse for why there were at least five unconscious men the ground. With the way Cherī is nodding, it seems to be.
"Fuckers need ta' understand that everyone has a different way of expressing themselves. They should also understand that borin' ol' black ain't da only colour in existence." Something must have caught her eye for she then kneels down. "Ooo, nice knife. Think Ah can keep it?" She holds up the weapon and wow, it really is a nice pocket knife.
"I don't see why not." He shrugs.
"Nice." She stands up and pats her skirt. "Let's go, Ichigo."
And what else could he do but follow?
A whole week passes before Ichigo has had enough.
Cherī is still acting the way she is, in the way that she is too eccentric - too weird - to be human. They chat during lunch, whenever he manages to find her, mostly about the town (Ichigo), past school (Cherī), and current school (both). He had tried to slip in Hollows and spirits once and she-
She didn't even look at him weirdly!
She just nodded and spoke that what while she doesn't quite believe in God and the existence of ghosts, strange things did happen without explanation.
She couldn't possibly be a shinigami, not with the way she is acting around him – like she doesn't know of him, doesn't know of the things he did to save Soul Society.
She could be a Visored, but Shinji and the others never mentioned the existence of others like them. Or maybe they didn't know?
(He tries not to think the way they acted around him when they first met. Unsurprised to see that someone else is like them. He has tried to reason that Geta-bōshi had told them recently about him, but that only brought up the questions of 'Why not sooner? Why not after returning from Soul Society?'
He always stops those train of thoughts before they can continue on.
It was in the past, and should remain buried underneath soil and concrete.
-But the past is never dead-)
Hell, for all he knows she could be a Quincy like Ishida!
That thought is quickly erased when he compares the two. He even compares Cherī to Ishida's father. Cherī is too... unstuck-up to be a Quincy.
Just what the hell is she and what does she want?
"Ya seem ta' be in a bad mood today, sumthing da matter?" The reason for his bad mood asks.
He grunts, hands shoved deep in his pockets as they walk to school.
"Did someone make fun of yer hair again? Ah'm surprised that keeps happenin'. People really don't have a lot goin' on in their lives, do they?"
He stops and she stops three steps away.
"Ichigo?"
"What are you doing here?" He asks, eyeing her warily. Her shirt's top buttons are undone because of the hot weather.
"What?" She sounds confused.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ah heard ya da first time. Ah just don't understand yer question."
"On whose orders are you here? Soul Society? Urahara? Shinji?"
"What?" She squints. "Who're those people? Ya sure yer not mistaking me fer someone else?"
"Cut the crap, Cherī." Why was she denying?
"There ain't no crap fer me ta' cut. Ah'm genuinely confused 'ere!"
"You can't possibly expect me to believe you. There's no way you're human."
"Da hell's that supposed ta' mean?!" She yells, eyes narrowed in a glare. Then, she calms down. "Ya know what? Fine. Yer either playing some kind o' joke on me, which is not funny, or ya 'ave mistaken me fer someone else. So you know what Ah'm gonna do? Ah'm gonna leave, go ta' class, an' not talk ta' ya until ya have sorted out whatever it is that needs ta' be sorted." She then turns and walks away.
And he doesn't follow.
He doesn't seek her out during lunch that day.
He doesn't see her the following day.
Nor the next.
It's as he's laying in bed, the third day of not seeing the girl quickly ticking away, the sound of Karin's footsteps as she sneaks out of the house, that he starts to wonder whether he truly hurt Cherī.
He tries to argue with himself that she doesn't seem like the kind of girl that would easily get hurt by mere words, but then his traitorous mind brings up moments of his past and how he would get hurt by name-calling. Moments before and after his mother's death.
He turns to his side and thinks.
Tomorrow, Ichigo thinks to himself, the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by his sister's footsteps, Tomorrow I will apologize.
It's only as he wakes up the following day that he remembers that it's a weekend, and he doesn't know her phone number nor where she lives.
He manages to find her two days later during lunch.
He is standing near the girls' bathroom when she exits it. She glances at his face, and whatever she sees there makes her walk past him.
"Cherī," He calls out.
"Ya gonna apologize?"
He nods, but before he can do so, she speaks again.
"Lemme make sumthin' clear. Ah don't owe ya ma' friendship, Ichigo, nor do ya owe me yers. Da other day ya really annoyed an' insulted me, an' Ah ain't gonna pretend that that didn't happen."
He swallows. It was true, Cherī doesn't owe him anything and he had accused her just because he misses his old norm.
(-The past should remain buried underneath soil and concrete-)
"I'm sorry."
She huffs. "Ah accept yer apology, but don't think Ah'll be forgettin' that anytime soon." Which is fair.
"...Ya wanna talk 'bout it?"
"About what?"
"Whatever set ya off da other day, cuz Ah don't think it was a joke." At his silence, she continues, "Ya don't have ta', 'course. Ah'm just offerin' a listenin' ear fer yer problems."
"...It's," How could one describe what he had gone through? "...complicated."
"Ah, ma' favourite word." She says sarcastically. "Come on then, tell yer acquaintance Cherī what's botherin' ya."
"Acquaintance? I thought we were friends?"
"Ichigo, if we count da days we've talked ta' each other - we've barely known each other fer a week an' yer insult certainly didn't help matters. Ah don't know about ya, but Ah at least wait until da first month is over ta' call someone a friend."
He blinks at that. They certainly had different views on how long it took to become friends.
"So?" She prompts.
He leans against the wall and she mimics him. "Like I said, it's complicated."
"Ya sure 'bout that?" He looks at her puzzled.
"Yes." Because what he went through was complicated, and not something he could just tell someone.
"Lemme give ya an example. A friend of mine used ta' date this guy fer, hmmm, 2 years. One day she finds out that he had been cheatin' on 'er fer a while. An' she asks me, 'What do Ah do?'. What do ya think?"
"I think she should have broken up with him."
"Simple, ain't it? Ah tell her that an' she says that she can't 'cuz she loved 'im. Do ya know what word she used ta' describe her situation? Complicated. Did it sound complicated ta' ya? No. And ya know why? It's 'cuz ya aren't emotionally invested in da relationship. It's 'cuz ya aren't da one in her place. It's 'cuz ya had an outsider's perspective an' could think clearly."
The bell rings.
"Think 'bout what Ah said. Just 'cuz it's complicated fer ya, don't mean it's complicated fer someone else." She walks away.
Five steps away, she adds, "An' sumtimes, ... Sumtimes it's easier ta' tell a stranger yer problems than yer friends 'cuz the stranger won't gain anythin' from lyin' ta' ya."
-The past is never dead-
(There are bodies buried underneath the soil and concrete.)
"Yer hair again?" She asks, idly kicking one of the men when they try to get up.
"Not quite. They got mad I beat up their men who made fun of my hair and decided that I needed to be taught a lesson."
She snorts unattractively. "Do ya even like yer hair colour?"
Once again, Ichigo pauses in though. "...Why do you ask that?"
"Cause, no offence, but yer hair keeps gettin' ya inta trouble, and ya don't even seem ta' appreciate it. If it's too much then just dye it sumthin' borin'."
...It's not that he hadn't thought about it, it's just that it was one of the few connections he had still with his mother. Dyeing it seemed like a betrayal, and felt like giving up and admitting defeat after fighting others about it for so long.
"Ah, that does sound like a good reason not ta' dye it," She says when he unintentionally thinks aloud. "But yer missin' ma' point: Are ya happy wit' yer hair? The colour will still appear when ya grow it out, it'll just be temporarily hidden."
He lightly fingers a strand. It was getting longer.
"I'll think about it."
She nods. Neither pleased nor displeased.
"Come over this weekend."
They are eating lunch in her classroom, in a way celebrating becoming friends after knowing each other for a month. Her classmates occasionally throw them looks that they ignore.
"Sure. What are we goin' ta' do?"
He thinks of the box of black hair dye that he got on his last shopping trip with Yuzu two days ago. Yuzu had looked at him questionably but hadn't said a thing to their family. "I need help with my hair."
Cherī raises a brow, not getting the hint.
"I'm..." He swallows, eyes flickering to the other people in the room. "I'm thinking of trying something new. That thing you talked about a few days ago."
It takes a moment longer for her eyes to light up in recognition and understanding. "Sure, where will we meet up?"
The corner of his lip twitches up.
"Yer mom famous or sumthin'?"
He looks to where she is examining his mother's poster. "No, my dad got it after she died."
She appears to be contemplating something before looking away. "So, where's yer bathroom? Ah'm not gonna lie, da dye will stain yer bathtub/tiles like a bitch when ya wash it out. Best ya put on some old clothes too."
Ichigo nods and leads the way, feeling nervous and calm at the same time.
Cherī orders him to sit on the edge of the bath, or bring a chair but then there's a chance that it would be stained so he doesn't. She starts by brushing his hair and parting it before beginning. "Ya sure 'bout this, Ichigo?"
"Yeah." His tone is breathless, heart thumping hard in his ribcage and something is lodged in his throat.
"Okay." Her voice is soft and quiet, though not in comfort. It just is.
His eyes close, a foreign calmness taking over him as she works on his hair. It isn't as short as it used to be, but it isn't as long as he would have guessed it would be after not seeing a hairdresser for nearly a year.
"An' now we leave it fer 25mins." Her voice arouses him from the half-asleep state he had been in. He turns to look at himself in the mirror, but she blocks his view. "Let's leave that fer later, okay?" Her voice is soft again.
He swallows thickly and nods. "Okay."
They go to his room. They don't talk, not really, but the silence doesn't feel suffocating. She looks around the small space, and the though of how empty his room looks strikes him. There is only the essentials of a bed, a desk with a corkboard over it, and a chair. It doesn't have any personality.
But, why does he care what his room looks like to an outsider?
"Ya got any favourite books?" Cherī asks, done looking around the bare room.
"Shakespeare." He answers automatically.
"He's good. Don't know much 'bout his works, only Romeo an' Juliet an' that's just a general idea. Ah like Dracula, an' an' . Ya know, books wit' what could be considered a homoerotic undertone nowadays." She looks at the notes stuck on the board. Most of them are related to school or past commitments so he doesn't see a problem with her looking.
"Ya got any relatives? Ah got at least two first cousins an' a bunch of other great aunts an' uncles that ma' parents want me ta know 'bout even though Ah only meet 'em once every five years. Kinda pisses me off when they get annoyed that Ah don't know any of their names, but that's what happens when ya barely see someone."
He blinks. This was the first time since the first day that she is mentioning family. "Not on my mom's side, I think. But on my dad's..."
Did he have relatives in Soul Society? There were quite a few similarities between him and Kūkaku, and Ukitake-taichō had mentioned that he looks like his former lieutenant Shiba Kaien.
"'s okay ta' not know." Cherī says. "Family's confusin' sumtimes, an' it doesn't help when they keep secrets, or don't bother mentionin' important stuff."
She was right. His father had kept the fact that he was a shinigami from him, what's one more secret?
"Time ta' wash yer hair. Ya need help wit' that?"
"No."
She doesn't smile, nor does she frown. "Okay."
He doesn't like how he looks.
No...
He hates how he looks. He looks way too similar to Kūkaku, with his sharp chin and eyes.
He looks way too similar to them.
What was one more secret?
-The past is never dead. It's just buried underneath soil and concrete-
"Ichigo," Cherī calls, brown brows furrowed in concern. "Are ya okay?"
No. "Yeah." He croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah, just getting used to the new look." He tries to smile but it must have come out as a grimace with the way she frowns.
"Okay. Ya got a dark hat or sumthin'?"
"Why?"
"'Cuz we're goin' ta' da store an' we're gonna buy ya a new dye."
"This one is fine."
"No, it ain't." Her voice is a touch harder. "It's makin' ya sad an' that's da opposite of what we were aimin' fer."
"Cherī-" He tries but is cut off.
"There's nothin' wrong wit' not likin' how ya look. Nothin' wrong wit' not likin' black." She says and for a single moment, it feels as though she is talking about something else, like she knows what his inner tumour is about. "Let's go get ya a new colour, Ichi."
He nods, and chokes out an "Okay."
They're at one of the shops on the main street.
The first thing that greets them when they enter is hair dyes on one side of the aisle and deodorants on the other. Ichigo browses through the 'natural' colours first before going to the more 'fun' – as Cherī calls them – ones.
All the colours of the rainbow were here: red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange, along with a couple of other colours, each having different shades from lighter to darker.
"When Ah first started dyeing ma' hair," Cherī says, picking up a box and examining it. "Ah did it in ma' favourite colour – purple. Months later, Ah found out that if Ah planned on continuin' ta' dye ma' hair fun colours, da colours would need ta' be ones that can easily be turned inta the next. Fer example: Ya dye yer hair blue, few months pass and ya want a new colour, yer either gonna havta bleach it or yer gettin' it done in green. Understand?" She places two bleaching kits in the basket.
Ichigo nods, examining the colours. His eyes stray towards the blue dyes, specifically the one that reminds him of Grimmjow.
He swallows.
Several months have passed since he had last seen the Espada; how would he react if he were to see him now – powerless and alone?
Well, he glances at Cherī as she compares two different shades of pink, not quite alone.
"Do ya like blue?" She asks, both boxes securely placed in the basket.
"Yeah," He wets his lips. "I do." It feels like he is confessing a sin by saying those words and thinking about his enemy. Were they even enemies now?
"Then get it." She doesn't reach for the box, preferring to wait for him to do it.
"It will clash with my complexion." He argues weakly. Raising two girls since he was nine forced him to dive into fashion and learn the rules: body types, complexions, colours schemes and such. There were many other things he had to learn and do while his father was in mourning to survive but now was not the time to think about the past.
"So? This ain't a fashion statement, Ichi. It's about makin' ya feel good and happy. But... if ya want a more autumn colour we can get red." She reaches for the box and he grabs her wrist.
"No, not red." Red reminds him of Renji, who reminds him of Rukia. Neither has bothered to visit him the months following Aizen's defeat. The excuse of him being unable to see them wouldn't fly, not when he knew Urahara keeps gigais in his shop.
-There are bodies in the soil-
"Okay." She says, slowly pulling her hand away. "Not red then. Bad memories?"
He winces, releasing her wrist to rub at his neck. "It's... complicated."
The girl huffs, "What does it remind ya of?"
He meant to say, "Nothing". He wanted to say, "Renji". Hell, he could have said nothing and she would have accepted his silence as an answer. Which is why he is so surprised when the word leaves his mouth without his permission.
"Blood."
And it is true. The shade she was reaching for also reminds him of blood. It makes him remember the wound he had been inflicted in Hueco Mundo, where he quite literally died and was dead for a while, long enough for his inner Hollow to take control and battle the cuatro Espada Ulquiorra and win, before he managed to wrestle back control of his body. It also reminds him of the markings on his hollow mask.
Cherī looks surprised - not mortified, just... surprised. "Okay," She repeats. "Not red."
She's examining the colours, searching for one that would fit his complexion, when he reaches forward and plucks the blue, Baby Blue, one and puts it in the basket. She doesn't question him, doesn't even indicate to have seen him do it but he knows she saw him and he appreciates her silence.
"What 'bout green?"
His first though is Ulquiorra with his acid green eyes, marble skin, and black black bat wings that carry him over the sands of Hueco Mundo.
His second is Nelliel.
"I like it." He picks a turquoise shade called Mermaid.
"Pink?"
He likes pink, he's worn it often enough when he was younger and his sisters wanted to dress him up, but...
"No, not today."
"Bad memories?"
He thinks of Yachiru, the girl with what he would describe bubblegum pink – even if that shade is called Cupcake here – hair and the man whose shoulder she would ride on.
"Not really."
She nods, then juts her chin violently towards a reddish-pink colour named Love Letter. "What 'bout that?"
The colour is nice so he gets it.
They continue on like that for a while, choosing and comparing colours - some of which repeat since Cherī also likes them - until the basket is overflowing. As a final colour Cherī chooses Snow – a pure white colour that reminded him of his inner Hollow's hair.
There's so much hair dye that he wonders whether he would ever be able to use each at least once.
The cashier is baffled by the amount but remains silent while she rings them up. It's as the numbers climb higher and higher that he begins to worry, given that he hadn't brought that much money. But before he can open his mouth Cherī is already handing her credit card with a, "Could you also add one strawberry and one cherry flavoured chapstick? Thank you."
He turns to look at her in bafflement. This was the first time he hears her speak 'properly' and it honestly unnerves him.
"Not ev'ryone can understan' me, Ichi." She says, handing him one of the bags.
They make their way to his house, talking about which colour they should do first. Cherī wants to see him in Love Letter or Milan – a light yellow colour that reminds him of an éclair's filling – but he says that he wants to try Baby Blue. She nods and gives him the strawberry chapstick.
"Yer lips are chapped." She says and he accepts it.
His sisters are home when they arrive. The twins greet Cherī differently – Yuzu with happiness that her brother brought a friend, Karin with suspicion given his history of 'friends'.
Cherī greets them with a simple, "Nice ta' meet'cha. Name's Cherī."
"Will you be staying over?" Yuzu asks as Karin glares.
"Nah," the fake blonde bats her hand as though swiping at an annoying mosquito. "Ma' pa's makin' ribs tonight an' Ah ain't missin' that fer da world."
The two blink in surprise and Ichigo uses the opportunity to drag the girl upstairs. Given that it would take more than an hour to get his hair done, they agree to do it the following day. For now, they place the dyes in his closet.
"What should I tell my family? I'm going to have to take off the hat." He asks.
"Right, here's what ya do. Unless they specifically tell ya ta' take it off, ya don't do it. If they just ask ya why yer wearing a hat, just shrug."
"You want me to lie?" Why is he acting as though he has never lied before?
"It ain't lying, yer just omitting da truth."
He doesn't know whether that's better or worse.
-There past is not dead. It's not even past-
Cherī doesn't stay long after that.
"Remember," She says at the gate, voice low as to not be heard. "Don't take yer hat off unless they specifically ask ya ta'. They can't accuse ya of lyin' if ya didn't go out of yer way ta' mention yer temporary hair colour."
"So keep it a secret."
She gives him a look. "It ain't a secret, yer just not mentionin' it until they ask da necessary questions. Ya can't live yer life always oversharing, Ichi. Not ev'ryone needs ta' know yer life story."
He wonders what kind of secrets (not secrets – they aren't secrets if she isn't asked the correct question to warrant the story) she keeps.
-Stop overturning the earth unless you're ready to find the bodies there-
"Okay." He says.
"Okay." She repeats and leaves.
No one asks about the hat.
Not his sisters, nor his father. But that doesn't stop him from feeling anxious the entire time, waiting for the question to appear just as he's starting to relax.
Even after dinner is over and he's ready for bed, he doesn't take the hat off; scared that come morning his father would learn when he inevitably wakes him up with his customary flying kick.
It's somewhat uncomfortable sleeping with it but he doesn't care, he's been through worse things than wearing a hat to bed.
Cherī arrives mid-morning.
His father is at the clinic and his sisters are out, each doing their own thing (Karin is probably hunting hollows with his friends).
"Hey," She greets, voice soft and quiet in the morning as though afraid of waking someone up.
"Hey," He returns, voice just as soft though not quiet.
"Ready ta' get rid of that awful colour?" She gives him a small smile, like it is a secret that only the two of them know - and it is, but not for long.
"Yeah," His voice is once again breathless and her smile widens.
"Let's go then."
It takes nearly three hours but when it's done Ichigo stands in front of the mirror with hair nearly the same colour as Grimmjow's.
He stares at himself, running fingers through slightly damp hair, not quite managing to wrap his mind around the fact that his hair isn't orange.
"Do ya like it?" Cherī asks some minutes later.
"Yeah," He exhales, bobbing his head. "I do."
"Good... It suits ya."
He snorts. "No, it doesn't."
"Ah ain't talkin' 'bout colour scheme, Ichi." He looks at her reflection, unwilling to pull his gaze away from the mirror. She has her arms crossed under her chest, an intense look in her eyes. "It's like yer weighless." She says, then twists her lips and furrows her brows. "It's like-" She gestures with a hand at him but he doesn't understand. "It's like ya had all this weight on yer shoulders that disappeared the moment ya changed yer hair colour. An' ya have this sort of awed look in yer eyes. Yer beautiful, Ichi."
He blushes at her compliment, lightly grumbling, "I'm a man."
"An'? Ya saying men can't be beautiful? Ah mean, yer normally handsome but in this moment yer beautiful."
Ichigo's cheeks burn and he looks back at his reflecting. It won't hide his blush, but he chooses to ignore that fact.
He can't see what Cherī considers 'beautiful' about him. He knows he's handsome, but not beautiful. The two should mean the same thing, each used for their corresponding gender, but they way she said them made it sound like they were two very different things.
"Thanks," He says awkwardly. She doesn't laugh, but she does give him a soft smile.
"Yer welcome."
They stand in silence a while longer, Ichigo admiring his new hair and Cherī watching him with a smile.
"Would ya like ta' go out?" She says the words slowly, letting each syllable roll off her tongue just so.
"Where?"
"In da park? Ah saw a crêpe stand da other day there, we could grab lunch an' just walk 'roun."
He doesn't answer immediately. He's nervous for how people will react to his hair, the attention it will draw (he's used to drawing attention, but this will be a different kind). His worry must have appeared on his face for Cherī adds, "We can cover yer hair again if ya want. Ya can keep it a secret 'till yer ready."
"It's going to be too hot for a hat." He says but he's already thinking of the baseball hat he has, stashed away in his closet drawer.
"An'?" She says, not asks. It's like she already knows what was going to happen and the conversation is just a formality. He doesn't feel trapped, not like the other times when something like this has happened with other people. He feels assured in a way. In some weird way, he knows that even if he goes off script Cherī will just go along with it, supporting his decision, and improvising a new, better script.
"And I think, " Ichigo wets his lips, hearth thumping in excitement. "That I won't wear one." He looks at her, the real her – not the reflection.
Her smile widens but her eyes are soft. "Okay, but let's get one just in case it's too sunny."
They both know she means something else by that excuse and Ichigo loves how they understand each other on such an intimate level only after knowing each other for over a month.
And not one fight was involved to reach it.
He smiles, "Okay."
He gets a chocolate and strawberry crêpe while she gets one with only chocolate. They talk.
Well, Cherī talks.
She talks about her past. About moments with friends. About how her classmates and her would cheat on certain tests, how their teacher would even tell them to use their notes during a test just so they don't get a bad grade. She talks about what she thinks her interests are (she had to explain even she didn't know herself that well). Talks about what she likes and what she hates (turns out the girl has a lot of rage in her). Talks about what she heard on the news and how annoying her father is when it comes to cleaning.
It feels as though they have been friends for years, separated and now meeting up and trying to catch each other up on how their lives are in the limited time they have before going their separate ways again.
It feels... nice.
It feels great to finally talk to someone who isn't tiptoeing around him and the topics of conversation.
"Gimme yer phone." She says after finishing her crêpe.
He fishes it out and gives it to her without thinking. He looks at what she taps, head bumping once, twice, in hers as they walk.
She hits the call button and her back pocket rings.
It's her number, Ichigo thinks with a quiet sort of awe.
"An' now we can call each other at all hours of da day, " She says, handing it back and pulling out hers to save his number.
Ichigo looks at the digits and name, trying to burn the information in his mind.
Someone bumps into him, yelling an apology over their shoulder but not stopping.
"Someone's in a hurry." Cherī drawls, miffed that despise the two of them walking on the side of the path, leaving plenty of room for others to traverse, someone still manages to bump into Ichigo.
Ichigo looks up to see the familiar figures of Inoue and Chad running ahead. For a moment, he wonders why they're running before remembering.
His good mood suddenly disappears.
-The past is never dead. It's not even past-
"Hey," Cherī lightly touches his arm, "Ah'm sure they didn't mean any harm. They seem ta' be in a hurry."
He nods, eyes still downcast.
"Let's go ta' da cinema. Ah wanna see what movies will be coming soon, an' we can watch one now if ya want."
Ichigo gives her a small smile. "Okay."
"They'll be showin' The Cat Returns next month?! Ichi, we gotta go!" Cherī says, shaking his arm, eyes wide and mouth open.
The teen laughs and agrees easily. "Sure. But what movie do you want to watch now?" He looks at the posters. He kinda wants to see Kiki's Delivery Service but would understand if she wants something else.
"Ooh, definitely not Pom Poko, that movie made me cry when Ah was younger. Wanna watch Kiki? We don't havta if ya don't like it."
"No, I like it."
Ichigo could only imagine how they looked. Two teens with dyed/bleached hairs, looking like they were ready to start a fight, buying tickets to a children's movie.
But, he looks at Cherī who is gushing about childhood memories of wishing she had her own delivery service like the movie character, that doesn't really matter, now does it?
After the movie, Ichigo walks Cherī home.
The entire way they are talking about the movie, happy to have relived a small part of their childhood through it.
All too soon they reached her house.
"Ah had fun today, Ichi." Cherī says, standing with her back to the door.
He smiles back, and his brain makes the unhelpful connection that this is where the girl kisses the guy in the movies and TV shows.
"Oi, what's up wit' that face?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing, brain just made a stupid connection is all."
She nods in understanding. "Yeah, Ah know those." She turns to unlock the door, "Oh, before Ah forget," She takes out his hat from her handbag and puts it on his head, not quite gently but not quite roughly. "Can't have ya returnin' home with yer secret out."
Ichigo rights it as he speaks, "It's already out."
"No, it ain't. Just 'cuz ya walked around town with yer hair unhidden doesn't mean ya havta walk in yer house like that. Not unless yer ready, 'course." She smiles softly at him. "Ev'ryone acts differently at home than they do in public. Ya can tell da whole world somethin' yet keep it a secret from yer family if ya think it's not safe. But like Ah said, it's up ta' ya if ya want ta' return without da hat on."
He nods, fingering the visor. "Okay."
She smiles and walks inside.
Ichigo turns and walks home, hat still on his head.
The following morning he is woken up by knocking on his bedroom door.
"Come in?" It comes out as more of a question than an order. His father never knocks, Yuzu knocks thrice softly, and Karin just yells.
His answer appears in the form of one... Cherī. He seriously didn't know her surname? How?
"Mornin'," She says, padding into his room. "Scoot over."
"Why?" He asks, already doing what she said.
"'Cuz," She plops onto his mattress, trying hard not to let her face touch his pillowcase. "Ah woke up early ta' get 'ere."
"Why?" He covers the lower portion of her body with his blanket, making sure that not a centimetre of skin could be seen.
"Get ready an' Ah'll tell ya." She stretches like a cat, eyes already closed for a short nap.
He huffs but leaves for the bathroom, stopping to tell his father that a friend was in his room. He didn't want her getting hurt just because of his norm.
Twenty minutes later, Ichigo returns to find that Cherī had covered her entire body and was sleeping with her head angled so that his sheets wouldn't get dirtied by her makeup. She was also wearing a beanie, stuffed full with her hair. He almost feels bad waking her up.
Almost.
"Wake up, Cherī." He shakes her shoulder and she groans, swatting and kicking.
"'n'min't." She mumbles.
"We have school, and this is my bed."
She cracks one eye open. She wasn't wearing her contacts today. They were a blue so light it reminded him of ice.
"Our bed." She says in a tone meant to be a correction.
Ichigo blinks. "No." He tugs the blanket free from her grasp. "Come one, Yuzu made an extra plate of breakfast for you."
"Ugh, fiiiine." She finally stumbles out of bed.
The two make their way downstairs, bookbags in hand and hats on heads. His dad is overdramatic as always and starts bawling at his mother's poster. Cherī shoots Isshin curious and nervous looks. Yuzu and Karin are polite in their own way.
They're two blocks away from his home when Cherī says, "Hey, Ichi. Look." When he gives her his undivided attention, she takes off the beanie. His jaw drops as she runs her finger through her dyed hair. "Sweet, right? It's Love Letter." Her eyes are sparkling in the morning light, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Ichigo says nothing, just blinks. It takes a few moments longer for his mouth to start working and ask, "Why?"
She shrugs, "Ah've told ya, haven't Ah? Ah've been thinkin' of dyein' ma' hair fer a while now. Now seems like a good time." She aims to bump their shoulders but given the fact she's 5'1" with heels and he's 5'9", she ends up bumping his shoulder with her head and shoulder checking his arm. "It just happens for me ta' dye ma' hair da same day we dyed yers. An' Ah'm sad ta' say that any attention ya get at school, yer gonna havta share." She says this in a mockingly sympathetic tone.
He snorts, eyes still not leaving her hair. He reaches out a hand and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. She has a small black heart earring.
"We'll be making quite the impression when we get there." He says, taking off his own hat and running his fingers through the blue locks.
"Damn rite we will." She growls. "An' we're gonna own it."
Ichigo laughs at that.
They certainty made heads turn when they pass the gate. He pays them little mind, too busy listening to Cherī explain how there was no way Jonathan Harker wasn't at least a little interested in Dracula. She also went on to explain that Henry Jekyll definitely had a crush on his friend Gabriel John Utterson, and that crush was transferred to Mr. Hyde. She then praised the amazing pun of, "If he be Mr. Hyde, I shall be Mr. Seek." Which is an amazing pun.
Before he knows it, they have reached his classroom. He sits on his chair and Cherī sits on his desk, bending and laying her right leg on the surface, not at all bothered by her skirt.
"Ichigo!" Keigo loudly greets, throwing himself at the teen.
Ichigo allows himself to be tackled. That is enough for the brunette to jump back in surprise. His eyes then fall on Cherī who is looking at them curiously.
"Ichigo," Tatsuki says, eyeing his hair. "You've changed your hair."
He shrugs, a touch amused by their surprise. "Decided that it was time for me to change it. She," He juts a thumb at the girl sitting on his desk, "Helped."
The ravenette eyes Cherī, suspicion clear in her eyes. "Arisawa Tatsuki."
"Akao Cherī." She chirps back. So that's her surname.
"So, what brings you here, Cherī?" Tatsuki asks.
"Please call me Akao." The girl retorts. "I'm explaining to Ichigo the homoerotic undertones in Frankenstein, and how Victor was the reason his whole life burned down. Not because of the creature he created, but because he was too scared to own up to it. The moment it was given life, Victor fled his laboratory, naïvely thinking that it would leave him be, and afterwards started blaming it for the misfortune that struck his life when he himself was to blame."
There she goes speaking understandably. But she did make a good argument on Frankenstein.
Tatsuki blinks, turning to face him with a questioning gaze.
Ichigo straightens and says, "But how was he to know what was going to happen? Victory didn't expect for the creature to murder."
"Yes, but he never actually does anything about it. He only moans and whines about the misfortune. When Justine is accused of murder, instead of making up a believable lie about how he had unintentionally made an enemy who had sworn to kill his family or something like that to save Justine, he just says she's innocence and fucks off. He never takes responsibly for his actions, preferring to blame the creature he had created out of the desire to show that breathing life into a corpse was possible."
He nods, "True."
"Well, time for me ta' go." She jumps off his desk, bypassing his friends and desks for the door. "See ya at lunch, Ichi." She calls, waving goodbye.
"See you later." He calls back.
The moment she is out of sight, Keigo turns to him with a wail. "Ichigo! How could you!? You've been keeping a babe like her to yourself only!"
Ichigo glares, "Don't you dare talk about Cherī like that!" He growls, more venom in his voice than intended. Keigo immediately stops at that, looking a touch scared. Ichigo sighs, "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound so harsh."
"You're awfully protective of her." Tatsuki states.
"Well, yeah." Because how could he not be?
"How long have you known her? I haven't seen her around before."
The now bluenette leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Nearly two months."
"Two months? And we're only learning about her now?" Her brows are nearly touching her hairline.
He shrugs, "She's in a different class."
Tatsuki purses her lips but doesn't say anything.
He is only slightly surprised when Ishida pulls him aside and demands what 'that' is. 'That' being his hair.
He blinks, "There isn't a rule about hair being dyed." He doesn't think there is. His natural hair is more often than not assumed dyed and the teachers never made a huge deal out of it – other than thinking that he's a punk.
Ishida huffs and frowns, clear displeasure on his face but that is a common expression for the Quincy so he pays it no mind. What he does pay mind to is that this is the first conversation that they have had since late January, around the time his friends decided that they couldn't hold a normal conversation with him that did not involve hollows and the best course of action would be to cut ties.
-Never dead-
"If this is all there is, class president, I would like to return to my desk." Ichigo turns and leaves, not even waiting to be dismissed.
"What was that all about?" Keigo asks.
He shrugs, more upset than expected, and gestures to his hair. The brunette makes a noise of understanding and returns to copying Tatsuki's math homework. Ichigo sits still for a moment before pulling out his phone and texting Cherī.
Me: Hey.
He hits sent before he could rethink.
The answer is almost immediate.
Cherry: Hey, what's up?
He pauses for a moment, thinking of how to phrase his problem(s) before giving up and just writing.
Me: My friend who has not spoken to me since January just pulled me aside to nag about my hair.
It takes a moment longer for her to reply.
Cherry: Are you close with them? The fact that you added the last time you spoke with them makes it sound like you either had a falling out and/or don't consider them a friend.
He stares at the text. He and Ishida are friends. He thinks. They just hadn't 'hung out' in a while.
Me: I do.
Me: Consider them a friend, I mean.
Cherry: But are you close to them?
Cherry: Or do you see yourself being friends with them just because you have mutual friends and not because you have common interests?
Ichigo taps a fingernail on the desk.
They didn't exactly have a 'falling out'. More along the lines of 'not having anything in common now'. Does that stop them from being friends? He and Keigo are friends, and they don't have anything in common.
Shit, did they have something in common?
He glances at the brunette, now writing more hurriedly. Ichigo can't think of anything from the top of his head. But there must be something.
His phone vibrates.
Cherry: You don't have to answer if it's complicated. My advice is to not pay him any mind unless he starts shit.
He laughs quietly.
Me: I thought you hated that word?
Cherry: I literally asked you whether you were friends with someone and you hesitated. That's a different kind of complicated, Ichi.
He stares. And then writes without thinking.
Me: It's not different. They're connected.
He waits, gripping his phone hard. Finally, she answers.
Cherry: Like I said, I'm not going to force you to speak. I'm only reminding you that I'm here if you need a listening ear.
He lets out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Glancing at the door, he writes.
Me: I would like that.
Next is Inoue.
It's two days after his confrontation with Ishida when she pulls him aside after he puts his bag on his desk. There are a handful of minutes until class starts so the conversation won't be long.
"Kurosaki-kun," She starts, eyes wide and sad.
A shot of annoyance runs through him when she says his name and he knows the reason for it. Ichigo has heard her repeat his name more times in an hour than anybody else has in their life. It has come to the point where his stomach would roll if she says it twice in two minutes.
"Yes?" He asks as politely as he can.
"Kurosaki-kun, " oh boy, "Is something wrong?"
"No." His answer is short and clip.
The girl frowns harder, eyes flickering to his hair. "Are you sure?"
-Stop overturning the earth unless you're ready to find the bodies-
"What is this about, Inoue?" He lets some of his tiredness and annoyance bleed through.
She cowers, "It's just-"
"Ichi!" The familiar voice of Cherī immediately calms him. He feels her wrap her arms around his waist and slips something in his pocket. "Listen, Ah think Ah placed ma' phone in yer bag by accident when we were rushin' in da mornin'. Mind bringin' it ta' me? Ah'll keep yer friend company." She winks when he looks at her.
He is a little suspicious but nods and goes to his desk, hands shoved in his pockets. While he may not know what the girl is playing at, that doesn't mean he won't play along. He makes sure to angle his body in such a way that pulling the phone and placing it in the bag won't be obvious, and pretends to have a hard time finding it, going as far as to pull out all of his textbooks. Once he 'finds' it, he leisurely makes his way out of the classroom.
Ichigo blinks when he re-joins them.
Cherī looks quite pleased with herself, giving Inoue a not quite nice smile. Inoue, on the other hand, looks close to tears, backed up against the wall.
"Your phone." He says.
Cherī grins up at him. "Thanks, Ichi." She looks back at Inoue. "It was nice talkin' ta' ya, Inoue. Be sure ta' remember ma' words, 'kay?" Giving the bluenette a last wink, she skips away.
He waits until she's rounded the corner before turning his attention to the orangette. Now that he thinks about it, why did only he get in trouble for having orange hair? "What was it that you wanted to talk about again?"
Inoue flinches, looking down the hall as though expecting Cherī to return. "Nothing, Kurosaki-kun." She looks at him with those kicked puppy eyes before returning to her seat.
He watches her for a moment before sending a text.
Me: Thanks.
Cherry: No problem.
It's June 16th, and Ichigo is laying on his bed.
He doesn't feel as bad as the previous years, not after learning the truth about his mother's death, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel awful for letting it happen at all.
"What's gotten ya in a mood?" Cherī's voice fishes him out of the memories he was diving in. He looks up to see her standing with a dark orange nail polish bag near his bed.
"Hey." He sits up, running a hand through his hair.
"Hey, yaself. Ya still haven't answered ma' question. What's gotten ya in a mood? Is it that Inoue chick?"
"No," Inoue hasn't so much as looked at his direction. Tatsuki, on the other hand, has made her displeasure of whatever Cherī had done to her friend very vocal, much to his displeasure.
"Then what is it? Or are ya tired an' want a break from people? 'Cuz Ah can leave if ya want."
"No," He says softly but too quickly. He swallows, trying to wet his throat, and says, "I promised you could paint my nails, and that's what we're going to do."
She frowns and sits next to him, close enough for their tights to touch. "Ichigo," She says his name as though it's a sound that is made when one exhales, "Ah don't care about any stupid promises. If yer feeling down, Ah ain't gonna force ya inta doin' anythin'." She lets her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing in a gentle voice, "Can ya tell me what's da matter? Maybe Ah can help."
He presses his lips in a thin line, barely debating whether to share before saying, "It's my mother's anniversary."
"Oh, Ichi," Cherī wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him close to her. "Ma' condolences."
He twists and presses his face to her hair. It smells like mango.
She squeezes him once, "Would ya like me ta' stay or leave?"
He squeezes her back, "Please stay." His voice doesn't shake, the pain and grief have dulled enough over the years for that to not happen, even if it feels as though it should.
"Of course," She murmurs, tightening her hold on him.
They don't separate. Only withdrawing a little - still holding onto each other – for Cherī to throw a leg on Ichigo's other side before drawing back in.
At that moment, Ichigo almost feels happy for losing his powers if it meant meeting Cherī.
Almost.
They're at his mother's grave. Ichigo tries to stay focused but finds himself too busy looking at his nails.
Cherī had given him a French manicure. He had been somewhat surprised, having expected the neon colours that would surely make him spottable from a mile away, but she had said that she didn't want anyone to give him trouble for wearing nail polish so she chose colours that one would need to look twice to notice.
It was thoughtful.
Even though she had seen him beat up people larger than him, she still wanted to make the polish as unnoticeable as possible.
He is brought back to the present when goat-face announces that they are going back. It wasn't unusual for Ichigo to stay back a while longer.
As his family walks away, he faces the grave.
"Hey, mom," Ichigo starts and falls silent. He thinks for a moment before scraping the half-formed plan with topics he wanted to talk about and just saying. "I made a new friend. She's pretty interesting. Her name's Cherī and I only recently found out her surname. I like her. She moved here with her parents, helped me dye my hair, and surprised me when she dyed hers as well." He pauses. "I think you might have liked her, but who knows."
He could stay here longer, like previous years, but he thinks about Cherī who had said that she would treat him to ramen and decides that maybe it is okay to leave earlier than usual.
"Hey, Ichigo,"
The bluenette looks up from his homework. They had agreed to do their work at the Cherī's place with the possibility of him staying for dinner.
"Yeah?"
"Are ya free da period startin' from da last week of July 'till da first two-three weeks of August?" She asks after a moment of hesitation.
Ichigo leans back and thinks. As far as he knew, he was free. Those weeks were during summer vacation so there wasn't any school. And if he wasn't mistaken, Karin didn't have any soccer matches for him to cheer and watch (did she even attend soccer practice anymore?).
"Yeah, I think so. Why?"
She hesitates again and his gaze sharpens. What did she need? Was she trouble?
"Ya see," She starts, then stops and starts again. "Before ya answer, Ah want ya ta know that ma and pa have no problem with ya joining me, so don't start worryin' an' thinkin' Ah'm doin' this behind their backs."
"Cherī-"
"What Ah mean," She continues, "Ma' parents an' me always go ta' da beach fer 3 weeks, but since pa just got transferred 'ere, we won't be able ta' go there an' that'd be a real shame 'cuz we already paid fer the house. So Ah told ma an' pa that I could go there, an' then Ah thought 'bout ya an' asked them if ya can come an' they said 'yes'." She inhales deeply after saying all of that in one breath. "What Ah'm askin' is: Do ya want ta' come ta' da beach with me fer three weeks?"
Ichigo blinks. "You're asking me... now? There's still time until then."
The girl huffs, "Ah'm askin' ya now so that ya can have enough time ta' think 'bout it, make up yer mind, change yer mind, think 'bout it again and change yer mind again. Three weeks is a long time, Ichigo. Ya need ta' be sure 'bout yer decision. Ah mean, not that Ah wouldn't drive ya back if ya change yer mind, but still, Ah don't want ya ta' feel bad if ya change yer decision."
"Huh. And how long do I have to make up my mind?"
"Literally 'till da day Ah leave. Which iiiissss," She checks her phone's calendar. "28th July."
"That's the day you leave?"
"Yeah, Ah'm thinkin' 'round 6-ish?"
The teen falls silent, thinking about the offer. He didn't really have anything to do during that time anyway, so what was the harm?
What about Yuzu and Karin?
They are old enough to care for themselves and each other. It's not like this will be the first time he had left them alone. True, he did leave them with Kon in his body, but it's not like it will be any different. So why not? Why not indulge in this trip. It's not like anyone will miss him.
It's not like anyone will miss him.
"What should I bring?"
It takes her a moment to answer, intent on finishing the math equation first. "Clothes, obviously. Just so ya know, there's a washin' machine an' a drier there so don't think 'bout bringin' yer entire closet, unless ya wanna, Ah mean. ID. Oh!" She jumps back, "Ah know a guy that makes fake IDs. We can get ya one."
He should feel surprised that she knows someone in that sort of business, and he is, but not entirely. He blames it on her looks.
"Why would I need a fake ID?"
"Well, there are a lot of clubs there. We can go ta' one if ya want." She smiles. "An' ya never know when ya will need one."
Ichigo frowns, but doesn't disagree. He's lived long enough to know that such a thing could be useful.
-There are bodies underneath the soil and concrete-
"And this person. Are they trustworthy?" He asks because one can never be too sure.
Cherī gives him a smile. It's one part amusement, another part sharpness and final part the smile she had given Inoue. Her eyes, ice blue, hold a certain kind of cruelty that he has seen before at least four times. Mayuri, Nnoitra, Aizen, and...
He shakes his head.
The past was in the past and should remain buried underneath soil and concrete.
"Don't worry," Her voice brings him back from the memories that are trying to dig themselves out. "They're trustworthy enough."
He nods once and turns his attention back to his half-finished homework.
Cherī's parents are both what he had expected and yet not quite.
At first glance, it looks like the girl takes more after her mother than her father.
Her mother, Nagi, has rainbow dyed hair (even though it is a duller colour) and wore casual formal clothes. She has a small face, narrow nose, large dark brown eyes, a small narrow chin, and a wide mouth with a thin upper lip. Her physic is of a woman that goes to the gym at least three times a week, or one that runs nearly every day. He could also spot three piercings on her left ear.
Her father, Haru, has black hair and wore scrubs. He has a more round face, with a slightly wide nose, narrow light blue eyes, and downward-turned lips. He also looks like someone that keeps a close eye on his health - and if his assumption for the man's job is correct, then there is a good reason.
It certainly looks like Cherī takes after her mother, but then her father opens his mouth and Ichigo realizes that the girl is a mix of both.
"So yer Ichigo! Cherī's told us so much 'bout ya!" The man says, a wide grin that practically screams Cherī on his lips.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The mother says.
"The pleasure is all mine." Ichigo says, shaking the offered hand.
They separate. Cherī and Haru go to prepare dinner and the table – he tries to offer help but is shut down before the sentence can even leave his mouth – while he and Nagi go converse in the living room.
"So how's school?" Nagi asks, picking a neutral topic.
"It's fine. The students have started getting rowdy about the upcoming summer vacation, and festivals." He says, giving the woman a polite smile.
She nods and they fall silent. Just like Cherī, she doesn't try to fill the air with idle chit-chat.
"If I may ask," Ichigo starts. "What is your career?"
Nagi smiles. "I am the CEO of Foxy Books."
Once again, Ichigo is surprised by an Akao.
While not a major publishing firm, Foxy Books is still up there. It is-yet-kinda-isn't-exactly an 'all genre' kind of firm, most people aren't even sure what genre they prefer. What is more notable about them is that they made consultations and even offer other firms that are sure to publish the books that they don't. And it wasn't firms that are going bankrupt or small and barely known ones – well, some were - but actual successful ones, ones that are sure to catch the reader's eye.
Nagi laughs. "Let me guess, I don't strike you as the 'Move, I am a big important person. Secretary, bring me a coffee, fire that person, move my meetings to whenever-the-fuck-I-want.'" Her voice had gone rough at the impression.
"...Kinda?"
She laughs again. "It's because of the hair, isn't it?"
"Yes." His answer causes her to burst into laughter.
"Dinner's ready!" Cherī's voice carries over her mother's loud laugh. "What'cha laughin' 'bout?"
"I told Ichigo what my job is!" Nagi yells, not bothering to stand up until she got control over her laughter.
"Ha!" Cherī laughs.
"What's so funny?" Haru asks from the kitchen.
"Ma told Ichi what her job is!"
"Ohh! Ah wanted ta' see that!"
Ichigo finds himself in the middle of some sort of inside joke to the Akao family. Seeing his confusion, Nagi manages to squeak out between giggles. "It's because people's reactions range from outright denial to confusion to easy acceptance. We prefer denial because the faces they make are hilarious."
He nods, and for a single moment, the family reminds his of Geta-bōshi. He shakes his head, ignoring the pang of longing and the twist of his guts.
"Ah think that's 'nuff chit-chat fer now." Haru says, and the bluenette realizes that they were looking at him with worry-filled eyes. He shouldn't feel defensive and insulted, not when those kind of eyes weren't from pity, not when Cherī had worn them enough times for him to feel comfort. But he does. He feels as though they see him as weak and defenceless, and he hates it.
"Hey," Cherī's voice draws his attention. "We didn't mean ta' insult ya, Ichi. Ah apologize if we came off as cruel."
"We're sorry if we insulted you in any way." Nagi says softly, the same way Cherī did when she dyed his hair.
He closes his eyes and nods, trying to reign in those unfair feelings. "It's okay." He says but Cherī must have heard something in his voice for she frowns.
"No, it ain't." She says the words with that stubborn tilt of her head, the same one she had worn the other day when Chad had come their way during lunch. The two hadn't spoken, but the taller teen had left with tense shoulders and a frown.
"It's okay," He repeats, a little harsher, a little louder. "The past is in the past and should remain buried underneath soil and concrete."
The family stops at the words.
They all look at him in a new light, though maybe not the kind one would expect.
The mother smiles a smile that is equal parts understanding and pain. Her eyes, on the other hand, burn with anger not directed at him. "It is," She says quietly. "And we should stop overturning the earth before we find the bodies that shouldn't be buried there."
His breath catches in his throat and turns into a lump.
Ichigo looks at Nagi in the same light the family looked at him. He tries several times to speak, but the lump prevents his voice from escaping. Finally, he croaks out, "You..." but doesn't finish the sentence. Doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
But his voice isn't necessarily.
Not when she understands him the same way Cherī does. "The past is never dead. It's not even past." She says it like a chant, like a mantra, like a quote said so often that it is a being of its own.
Ichigo,...
Ichigo chokes.
-The past is never dead-
Tears are running down his cheeks as he croaks out unintelligible sounds, but the Akao family finds meaning in those sounds for they gather around and wrap their arms around him as he sobs.
"Oh, little heart." Nagi breaths out and the teen cries harder. It had been so long since he had been referred to as that. "What has happened to you in these six years?" She asks but doesn't expect an answer. She just holds him tightly as he sobs. "Oh, little heart. Who has pierced your heart the same way our teeth pierce the skin of an apple? Tell us and blood shall rain."
The words bring back memories of blood and flesh, of warm embraces and kisses from stained red lips.
They are a promise he finds comfort in.
"I can't." He sobs. "I can't tell you."
He wants to. God, he wants to spill his soul to their willing ears, but he is too afraid. Too afraid of what would happen – what the shinigami, Geta-bōshoi, would do if they found out.
"Then give us hints." Haru rumbles next to his ear. Soft lips press against Ichigo's temple and Nagi mirrors the action. "Give us hints an' look away."
At that, Cherī lifts her head from where she had placed it against his collarbone. Gently, oh so gently, she grasps his face, wiping away tears with her thumbs.
"Ichigo," She says it like a prayer. "Look at me."
He looks at her, choking on his tears.
"Was it Inoue?" His breath hitches, but her face doesn't change, only her eyes. Eyes that while the wrong colour have that familiar sharpness and cruelty from years ago. "Ishida? Sado?" She gets the same reactions for those names, and he sobs harder.
"Don't-" Ichigo chokes out. "Don't hurt them."
"But they hurt you." Nagi croons in his ear, the sound comforting yet cruel.
"They didn't." He says desperately, then repeats. "They didn't."
"Oh." The woman says.
Cherī tilts his head up to meet hers. "They may 'ave not hurt ya in da past, but they are hurtin' ya now." She presses a kiss to his forehead. "An' Ah can't stand that."
"Cherī-"
"Ah won't." She cuts him off, tilting her head so that her brightly coloured hair curtains around them. "Ah would never do such a thing in front of ya." Another kiss to his forehead. "Trust me. Please." The plea was said in such a desperate tone that he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her waist.
"I do."
They stay like that for a while. Two adults and a child wrapped around a broken child. Because no matter what the Shinigami may say, he is nothing but a broken child secretly holding onto fragments of the past.
And for once, Ichigo doesn't hate that he is vulnerable and weak. Not when he is in their embrace.
The past is never dead. It's not even past.
Ichigo stays the night.
After having a rather late dinner, Nagi and Haru agreed that he shouldn't leave when it's so late at night.
He doesn't protest. He barely even remembers to sent Yuzu a text.
Somehow, he ends up spending the night in Cherī's room.
Her room is messy and chaotic and he loves it.
It tells him a little about his friend – from the cat pictures and cartoon pony drawings taped to the walls, to the chair covered in clothes that she hastily turns around, to the messy desk covered in notebooks, papers, coloured pens, nail polish bottles, and a glass with a lipstick mark.
He loves all of it, and he loves her.
Haru lends him a t-shirt and shorts that would usually reach one's knees, but given the fact that Ichigo's 5'9" and Haru's 5'1", everything is slightly short on him.
Huh.
Now that he thinks about it, they're all shorter than him.
"You're all shorter than me." He announces, settling in the bed.
"Well, yeah." Cherī says, turning off the light and making her way using her phone. "Ev'ryone in ma' family is short compared ta' ya."
"Huh." He says because he can't think of anything else. "And you're not mad?"
Ichigo can't see her face but he assumes she is giving him a funny look. "Why would Ah be mad 'bout that? It's genetic."
"Huh." He repeats.
Several minutes pass before a tentative voice breaks the silence.
"Ichi," Cherī softly murmurs.
"Yeah?" He answers just as softly.
"Can Ah cuddle wit' ya?"
He doesn't answer immediately.
"It's okay if ya don't wanna." She adds after what feels like a minute has passed.
"...No, I want to." He says because even though years have passed, he misses cuddling with his sisters.
"Okay."
They shift to their sides. Ichigo's back touching Cherī's front and her arms wrapping around his waist. He feels her sigh between his shoulder blades and allows himself to relax.
Ichigo dreams of bright lights, bloody knives, and faceless bodies missing chunks of flesh.