Ichigo took a deep inhale from his cigarette, held, and let it out with a deep sigh.
How did his life end up like this? Standing under the brick awning of a building he hated inhaling death like it was the only thing breathing life into him. It was the only thing that he had now that was his. Even his last belonging of his past life, his silver BMW, was now god knows where. Probably in a ditch or torn apart and sold for parts.
He had no clue. He had just left it on the side of the road on the outskirts of town.
He had once had it all. Beautiful car. Beautiful family. Beautiful house. Beautiful boyfriend.
Beautiful lover.
He hated free periods. He had no interest for the small minds of the other teachers. Couldn't stands sitting around the small circular tables in the run-down staff room, talking about the small-town gossip. Who cared which students' parents where having an affair? Who cared about who's family was going bankrupt? Who cared about anything at all?
He guessed that was why he pick up smoking. An excuse to be alone. He would be lying if he didn't like the small, pleasant, yet painful reminder of a certain man from his past who also liked to kill himself slowly with smoke.
It had been two whole years since the worst night of his life. The night he chose to give up everything he loved and held dear. The night he chose to get in her car with nothing but a duffle bag with the few essentials and his mother's graduation gift in the glove compartment.
He had drove all night long, into the next day. He stopped only twice. Once for gas and once for a nap at the side of the road. He continued to drive from there.
It had taken him a few days and few hundred miles to end up where he was now. A small run-down town in the middle of no where with one grocery store and one school where Ichigo now taught at.
A deep rumble from the cloudy sky snapped Ichigo out of his past and made the decision for him to make his way inside. His next lesson would be starting soon and if he was late for another class the principle wouldn't be very understanding.
"Ichiiiiiiiggggggooooo!" A masculine voice called almost as soon as he walked threw the double set of doors.
Ichigo knew the voice to belong to the drama teacher Keigo Asano. He looked to his side to see exactly who he had guessed bolting down the hall towards him.
Keigo was a nice enough man. Not Ichigo's taste though. He imagined he would have gotten along with him and the other teacher in his past life, but the past had given him a distaste for new friends.
"Why do you never hang out with us at lunch?" Keigo continued to yell in a childish whine, even though he was only a few feet away from Ichigo at this point.
"Sorry I lost track of time again." Ichigo tried to hide the annoyance in his voice. He felt like he was becoming more skilled at it every day.
These people where idiots.
"You always say that!" Yelling again. " You should quit smoking and make more of an effort to make friends. Its better for you all around." The bell rang saving Ichigo just in the nick of time.
"It's fine like this. I don't mind." Ichigo turned to make his way to his classroom hoping that he wouldn't be followed.
Fuck he hated it here. Didn't these people realise that if he wanted to be their friend he would be?
By the time Ichigo had gotten home that evening he was beyond irritated. He had gotten out of work nearly two hours late due to one of his idiot students not understanding basic calculus. He could really blame the boy. He was trying. Just could learn the way Ichigo was teaching.
Ichigo sighed as he fell into his second-hand couch he had bought off Craig's List the year before. He had gone threw some hard times but that didn't mean he could justify the bitter ass hole he had become. He remembered the days he could laugh and enjoy other people's company but now, thinking of what happiness he had lost, he couldn't even stand the thought of getting to know a dog more than he had to.
He might lose it all again one day anyways.
He couldn't imagine that the Shinigami would right him off and let him go about his life. He knew to much about the ins and outs of their business to let him stay a loose end.
Ichigo glanced towards his door making sure the emergency bag he always had packed there just incase he needed to make a quick get away was still in convenient spot beside it. He had to always be ready.
He looked around his dingy old apartment. It was a far cry from the spacious two bedroom in the bougie area of down town that his parents had paid for. His miss match furniture and thrift store curtains gave it a musky crack house vibe.
When he had moved into the one-bedroom apartment he had no idea how long he would be staying in the small town and didn't want to spend his mothers money on things that he might have to leave at a moments notice.
Most night after grading papers on his small coffee table Ichigo would stare at his living room ceiling and think. He would think about his sisters. His friends. Grimmjow.
He wondered if he had moved on. Was he happy? Was he fucking somebody else and forgot about him already?
God, he thought about him every night. He hated to admit it but if Grimmjow had forgotten him already he wouldn't know how to cope. He was the first and only love of his life. Ichigo wass convinced there was no one else for him.
Ichigo fell asleep looking at the same water damaged ceiling that he stared at countless times before.
It was nearly three in the morning when a knock came threw the door.
I'm back…. Sorry. I had a nap.