Track: Transatlanticism – Death cab for cutie

I'm on a bed and it's so soft.

It smells so familiar too. Like tobacco and cologne. I don't know why but it reminds me of someone.

Opening his eyes, everything was white. He blinked again, continuously. Trying to focus his vision. The bright lights on the ceiling like the bright lights of a surgical room. It was raining outside.

A hospital.

No. Shit.

He had to leave. He had to run. He didn't want to face that moment again. Not again.

His body won't move. It won't stand up. What the fuck is happening? Ichigo heard a door opening. Someone was rushing in the room.

"Woah. Woah. Hey kid!" Ichigo's body was in a seizure. His limbs no longer his, he couldn't think. Ichigo was in shock. He wanted to escape. Not again. NO MORE!

Ichigo felt his body being pressed down by someone. Said person was forcing his arms to his sides. His legs were weighed down by the same person. Pain everywhere. Too much pain. He couldn't breathe.

"Ma? MAAAA!"

Ichigo finally opened his eyes and screamed his lungs out. Calling out for someone to bring back his mother and soother this pain. Ichigo looked everywhere for help. He needed air. He needed help.

"Kid, Kid." Ichigo looked at the man on top of him groggily, seeing the man's mouth opening and closing. Still screaming and struggling, Ichigo tried to get the offender off him. He needed something.

"Hey! Kid! You hear me?!" The man released one of his hands to grab his face, vigorously shaking him. The man forced him to look at the man. "Oi, focus, focus. I'm Grimmjow. We met before."

Blue hair? I remember him. Ichigo started to calm from looking at the man and feeling the strong grip on his face. His breath slowing down from the frantic pace. He focused his eyes more to see the man clearly. He rested his limbs, allowing the man to put less force on him.

"I need you to breathe. Come on, breathe, breathe." Ichigo saw the man. The man was so different. In his head, he could only fathom the word 'breathe'. So that was what he did.

He matched the man's paced breathing. Slow and steady. He turned his head, taking in the surroundings.

It's not a hospital.

"It's my place relax." It was as if the man read his mind. He felt the weight lift from his body. Said man was moving off Ichigo.

"You've been here before."

Ichigo was relaxed. From where he was, he looked at the man before him. The blue hair dishevelled. He had a black shirt and sweatpants. And sweaty too. The man went to the other side of the room to turn the AC on. The room was only filled with sounds of their breathing and the howling wind from the closed window.

He was beside Ichigo, turning the AC on, letting the cold air ventilate in the room better. Ichigo just watched the man silently. In particular, Ichigo looked at the man's back and arms. Even from simple movements, the muscle moved fluidly. Strong and solid. Hard as a rock yet there was still a hint of smoothness in his movements. Like how he pressed the button of the remote softly. Ichigo could imagine this man being uncharacteristically gentle and then quickly turn aggressive at will. The man's bulk wasn't too big or too heavy. He looked as if he was quick on his feet. The man was definitely some sort of athlete. His back muscles rippled.

"You alright kid?" The man asked.

Ripped from his silent distraction, Ichigo could only nod his head. The blue haired man heaved a sigh of relief. The tense shoulders visibly slumped. He grabbed a foldable chair that was leaning on the dresser and sat across Ichigo's side.

Silence. Not exactly awkward but not really unwelcomed. Ichigo looked out the window while the man looked at Ichigo. His blue depths staring into Ichigo, questioningly.

"Shit. I was sleeping on the couch when I heard you screeching your head off like you were being hacked alive or something. I came here and you were having some sort of seizure." Ichigo stared at the man.

He had pretty eyes. Light blue and piercing.

Ichigo looked at him wordlessly. He didn't give an answer. Tired of waiting, the man stood up and headed out of the room.

"I need a smoke."

"Wait." Ichigo's voice was coarse. "Why am I here?" The man stared at Ichigo speak. His face expressionless.

Then, there was laughter. Said man outright cracked up as if it really was a funny joke. The low, husky voice filled the room wondrously. "It's the second damn time I saved your drunken ass from the streets. I was doing some errands when I saw you getting beaten up by some thug."

"Why'd you save me?" Ichigo questioned the man. Unwittingly, there was some weird hope in him as he waited for the man to answer.

"Don't get the wrong idea, I didn't do it to save you kid." Ichigo felt kind of disappointed. "I fucking hate thugs. I saw one of them beating up someone so I just decided to fuck'em up. Coincidentally, the bitch they were beating up was you." There was an awkward pause as the man looked at Ichigo's expression.

"I considered to let you get beaten to death but here you are," The man gestured to Ichigo who was in the bed. Ichigo was dumbfounded. He couldn't really remember either.

"Shit." The only word Ichigo could mutter in the midst of all this confusion.

"Yeah, shit." The man sneered and walked out of the room, leaving Ichigo alone to reflect.

Looking around the room, it was kind of like a hospital. Like those emergency rooms. More like makeshift emergency room. An empty room conveniently barren for this specific use. It was most probably the only other guest room in the house. There were medical items all over. Some bandages. Even an IV drip stand at the corner. Hell, the sheets had the plastic underlayer. Other than the stench of tobacco, there was the sickly stench of isopropyl alcohol. He could only stare and study the room. Shocked at what's happening.

"You were out for five days." The man said from outside the room.

"What?!" Five fucking days? How hard was I beaten up?

"Yeah. And it wasn't much. You just have glass imbedded on your left shoulder and bruises all over. No broken bones or organs affected. No concussion even but you were knocked out for a damn long time" The man was in the kitchen, heating up some leftovers in the microwave. Waiting for the food to cook, he went back into the room.

"You are some lucky kid. Most people would have punctured a lung or broke some ribs or something after getting a beating like that." Ichigo saw the impressed expression the man had as he just entered the room. "And the glass luckily wasn't punctured in too deep. Most of it got stuck on your jacket."

It's most probably because of that leather jacket Shinji gave me. The damned fashion item saved his life.

Ichigo immediately tried to stand. He had to do something. He couldn't stand not doing anything for so long. The man didn't even try to help him as Ichigo moved his legs off the bed. As Ichigo sat on the bed, he noticed the bloodied bandages on the floor. Unrolled.

"Hey, if I didn't bleed much, then what's all this?" Ichigo pointed his head to the bandages. Some bloodied bandages bunched up in one corner of the dresser and a whole lot of bloody gauze in the trash can near the door. This was way too much blood even for a few embedded glass on skin. This amount of blood loss is insane.

"I didn't clean up." The man shrugged as he said it. Like it wasn't important, his tone nonchalant and unconvincing. That was definitely a lie.

"Hey, go take a bath. You fucking stink." The man said and once again left the room to the kitchen.

Ichigo watched the man walk away. Coincidentally, the man stretched his arms upwards to ease the sores in his back. The shirt riding up. Bandages were wrapped around his torso. Ichigo looked away. This guy is hiding something and his gut feeling is telling him that it's not good. Ichigo waved it off. Creating the excuse that he was just paranoid.

"Hey, I'm Ichigo!" Ichigo suddenly shouted from inside the room. Just because he felt like saying it. Introductions. They were nice.

"WHO THE FUCK CARES?" The man hollered from the kitchen. Ichigo just plainly laughed at that. It was so comforting that someone took care for him even though he was a stranger, a nobody. He didn't hear the other man say anything else. He snorted again.

Enjoying how it felt when he did. It had been so long since he laughed. And he could remember he did it often actually before his mother's death. Remembering the day, Ichigo stopped laughing. The smile fading.

2 days later...

It's not every day one gets a free treatment after nearly getting beaten up. Well, it seemed Ichigo was just a lucky fella. Just a few days ago, he woke up in a strange man's place all patched up and sober. That was a first. If not, he would have woken up at some dingy alleyway nearby his apartment. He never seemed to get into his house while drunk. Never passed that door drunk. Maybe he subconsciously knew that it would have been such a mess the next morning. Not willing to suffer the clean-up the next day, his body just shut downs outside, as nearest to the house if possible.

As he walked up the stairs, he noted that Yoruichi's windows were open. Which probably meant that she was home. Which meant that he would have to pay rent. He sighed, praying internally that his hidden stack of cash was still a stack and not just a few notes.

It's been a year since Yoruichi rented out the place to him. Even if he was drunk most of the time, he wasn't a totally incompetent human. He felt that he had enough pride to still work even without a college degree. Ichigo used to work at the local bar as a bartender which was ironic since he was just kicked out of the establishment a few days ago. The previous owner was a good man who took him in and hired him for a good 2 years. Of course, until the owner passed away and his damned son had to take over. There weren't much customers but the loyal ones always paid their daily visits. And they tipped well every single time.

Even then Ichigo felt guilty that he was usually a little drunk when he served those customers and one of them was Yoruichi. It was weird seeing a super-hot woman like her to visit the bar but he can't complain. He was the bartender with orange hair. Anything goes in this town apparently. And who would have thought that a hot chick like her would own a small apartment building? She caught him sleeping outside the building a few times and next thing you know, he owns a room on the third floor in an apartment building 200 feet away from the bar.

Walking into his apartment, he was greeted with the wonderful stench of home. A whole cornucopia of smells like unwashed clothes, sweat and beer. Ichigo stepped in the house, finally noticing that his place was a fucking mess. Probably my first time entering the place while I'm sober. He walked on top of the piles of trash and clothes to his bedroom which was weirdly spotless. He never went in the room only when he needed to. He always felt that he was invading someone's privacy. Heading for his drawer, he prepared for the worst.

Thank god. There were still a few hundred dollar bills. It was probably a week ago he lost his job so there were still some money left. He grabbed the last few bills and headed back down to his landowner's place.

Yoruichi was like a sister to Ichigo. She gave him a home although he paid for it but still... To get a place in this district was pretty hard. Most of the places were motels and two-storey shops. Apartments and rental houses usually became occupied fast as college students would inhabit them. It would be hard for someone to actually own a building or even a room. Building-owners in the area were usually be rich or are affiliated with the gangsters in the area. Ichigo always knew that Yoruichi has had interesting friends come around her place so it was pretty obvious which category she was in.

Banging on the door, "Yo Yoruichi! I got your rent money. Open up!" Ichigo waited at her front door, expecting her to open soon.

The door finally opened.

"Fucking finally. Holy sh-tits. Your tits. Oh god," he immediately shielded his eyes with his hands. Suddenly he was faced with a bronze wall of woman. Yoruichi was buck ass naked in broad daylight at the door for the whole world to see. And Ichigo was the lucky man to get to see all that beauty. Too bad she was never his type, or his gender preference. Maybe. He's confused about what he likes.

"Oh hey Ichi! So long haven't seen you. You were never home and I was so bored like-" Ichigo interrupted her by pushing her into the house. "Uh good to see you. Wear something will ya. It's like 10 in the morning and you are in your damned birthday suit," Yoruichi rolled her eyes and went to her couch to grab some random clothes laying around.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist. Hold on." She disappeared for a moment.

A few seconds later, she was in her usual orange hoodie and shorts. Ichigo stepped in the familiar house and stood in the living room. She took the money from his hands and went to the kitchen. Her house was on the first storey.

"So where you've been? Heard you got fired. Or kicked out. "

Ichigo went to sit on the couch while Yoruichi went to grab something from the kitchen.

"Yeah… I got caught stealing drinks. That dick of a son got dumped by some chick in public and took out his anger on me. I'd been stealing drinks there the whole time and only now he's decided to catch me." Ichigo said while checking his phone for messages.

Yoruichi just sat on the bar and stared at him with no expression, a breakfast burrito in her hands. Her usual soul numbing stare.

"Ichigo, that was like a week ago and you never came back to the house. Where have you been like seriously?"

He hated when that happened. He loved her to death but sometimes it pissed him off when she knew something happened to him.

He stood up from the couch abruptly, really deciding that he did not want to talk about it.

"You got the rent money for this month. You can keep the change for next month or something."

He said as he walked towards the front door. He never liked that stare. It was as if she could read him like a book, she could. He exited the house and headed up. Halfway up, he checked for his wallet. Seeing a few more bills he turned back down to the liquor store.

4 bottles out of 6. Another 2 more to go.

Of course he could still count. Ichigo staggered back and forth on the sidewalk. Barely missing people walking in different directions. All of them avoiding him. Some commenting on how disgusting of a drunkard he was. He heard an old lady say whose mother would raise their son like that. Well, mind your own business, ya old hag. It stung whenever he heard a comment like that. If he would have been sober he most probably punched that lady. Fuck gender. Fuck age. Fuck you old lady.

Deciding to actually say it to her face, "You know what! Fuck you too old la- mph" Ichigo turned to say but met a wall of muscles blocking his view.

"Chill kid. Didn't know I looked like an old lady," he heard a gruff voice say.

Ichigo stared at his ex-saviour. The man was holding on to his shoulder to balance him. Ichigo had already dropped the paper bag to the ground. He couldn't really focus on what's in front of him but he knew the scent of the man in front of him.

"Hey. You alright?" The man shook him a little, and glanced down to something that rolled to his feet. A can from the bag rolled out of the bag and the man sighed loudly.

Ichigo was pretty dazed and stared at the ground. Snapping out, he quickly bent down and reached up for the can and the bag. He walked away at the opposite direction ignoring said man. A hand went out to grab his shoulder to roughly turn him around. In his drunken state of mind, Ichigo faced the man unsteadily.

"You gotta learn kid. You pretty dumb to start drinking after nearly getting yer ass whooped."

He reached for a can in the bag and motioned it in front of Ichigo's face. Shaking it temptingly directly in front of him, he said, "you see this." Shaking it again with his grip only on the tip of the can. "This will kill you."

It was really a deja vu moment. For both of them.

The man smirked for a moment and walked away with the beer still in his hand. Ichigo could only stare blankly, looking at the slightly upturned lips. And then, he was looking at the man's back that was walking away. Ichigo just stood there, confused.

Ichigo was in his bed. Startled awake at the buzzing in his pants. Someone was calling. Digging through his front pocket, he checked the screen.

Unknown.

"Hello?" Ichigo's voice was rough. His throat was dry and gravelly. He heard a woman's voice on the phone in reply.

"Good evening sir. Is this Kurosaki Ichigo? I am Unohana Retsu from Kurosaki clinic. I believe you have a doctor's appointment for today at 3pm. The doctor asked for me to call you for a reminder."

Click. Ichigo pressed the end call button.

Was it the 16th?

It was weird. He left the house. The remnants of his mother and his family left behind without a second look. He hadn't talked or met any of his family since he left yet his father... His father owned the Kurosaki clinic and every 16th Ichigo would have his monthly check-up ever since he was a baby. It was just something of a routine that his dad and him just made. He would just have his monthly medical check-up on the 16th, healthy or not. His father would personally attend to him and 8 years ago since he left, each month there would be still be nurses calling him for a reminder to come in, without fail. Ichigo would change his number time and time yet the calls would somehow reach him. It was kinda scary and annoying but now it would comfort him. Somewhere out there a dad still cared for his runaway son.

Ichigo sighed. He thought leaving everything behind would be sufficient enough as payment for the death of Kurosaki Masaki. He did deserve this... The others, they didn't.

He put back his phone in his pocket. Staring at the ceiling, he pondered.

Reviews please! Sooo I edited this shit cause I feel like such a hobo. Still need an editor, good lord someone help me.