Wild thing, you make my heart sing.

...

Ichigo stretched on his toes with his arms above his head after leaving a meeting with the Sou-Taichou, Old Man Kyoraku. There'd been some other people there too, but it was a bit fuzzy. Mostly he'd just paid attention to the part where Kyoraku-jii told him to think about what he was going to do with his life from now on. For one, the people of Seireitei were endlessly grateful, ya-da ya-da, but... they didn't really know what to do with him.

Even though almost everybody was nice to him and wanted him to stay after his service in the wars, there were still some who were afraid of him and what his power could do. Something about the fabric of the universe. No one ever explained anything to him. Kyoraku had offered him a home here; a few had thought he should take a Captain's position or a lieutenancy at least, but Ichigo agreed with Kyoraku when he'd said he didn't need the responsibility – he'd done enough, the old man had said. Ichigo had always had a lot of respect for Kyoraku, but it put it over the top when he'd talked to him heart to heart, calmly, like he was an adult. The only thing he'd wanted to know was what Ichigo wanted to do now – that's all – and they'd let him do it, whatever it was.

It had been a surprisingly hard question to answer. Ichigo had never really thought about it, figuring he'd get that all sorted out after the war, and now that it was time, the answers didn't come as easily as he'd thought they would.

On one hand, now that things had quieted down, he could finally learn outside of real-life survival situations. He never had gotten around to learning much about the Soul Society, or how to control reiatsu, or…

Ichigo sighed. He didn't know what he wanted to do, really. His friends here wanted him to hang around, you know. The Eleventh wanted him in their squad, but Ichigo didn't know where he belonged. He didn't know if he even wanted to be a seated officer – he'd have no responsibility, freedom to roam and go where he was needed, to learn from the greatest swordsmasters in every area, no squad partisanship. He was pretty sure that Kyoraku would let him wander around.

But then there was his family, his human life. Back when he'd first come here to rescue Rukia, when he'd fought Aizen, that's all he'd wanted was a normal life… Quiet, peaceful, content, normal.

And then those seventeen months alone . . . It hadn't felt like part of him had been ripped out, more like… it had just disappeared, just gone away, never existed to begin with but still felt and missed and yearned for every single second. There had been something that was suddenly absent that he hadn't known he'd gained or started to need. He had come to the horrible and ugly realization of just how depressed and alone he'd felt before he'd met Rukia and everyone else.

Getting his powers back had felt more like coming home than being sent back to Karakura had by a long shot.

He… he wanted to stay, he really did. He didn't want to feel that loneliness again – but when he was here, he missed his family, he worried. Sometimes he wondered if he'd been selfish, and others, that's all he wanted to do was finally do something to find happiness, something for his own sake, something just for Ichigo and no one else.

He had a chance to do that now, to do what he wanted. The war was over and it was time to choose a life, a direction to take next.

Ichigo cracked his neck on both sides and wandered down the road away from the Division One meeting hall.

Besides the obvious strain his powers would place on the environment, Karakura was his home, and he had always imagined he'd make a life there. He'd vaguely figured he'd be a doctor or a cop or something, have some kids. When he'd been alone for that year and half with no powers, living as a real human for the first time in his life, unable to see spirits, he'd started thinking, maybe college, maybe-

Ichigo rubbed his hand over his eyes, scrubbing at them. Ugh, he didn't know. He didn't want to move on like this had all meant nothing to him, like it had all been just a blip and now he was back to regular business. In a perfect world, he would try to balance his two lives, but he didn't know if he could do both. He'd tried that at fifteen and his grades had suffered, his sisters had had a frequently absent big brother, not to mention everyone he'd known in the Living World had constantly been suspicious of his weird behavior. No, he couldn't do that anymore. Those dreams of a normal life couldn't stand while he kept one foot in the door here. He can't be a shinigami and… and whatever a human Ichigo would do. He didn't know how to balance them; couldn't. He had to choose where to stay, had to choose who he was . . .

This place had shaped him, brought him back to life, and it was sad to say goodbye, but… maybe it was time to move on. He'd have to think about it. There were a lot of people to say goodbye to. He didn't look forward to that part, if it came to it; he didn't want it to be so final. He could always visit, right? Maybe they'd let him do that, yes, maybe…

He wondered what Rukia would say about the whole thing, if he asked her. He'd really like to hear her advice, what she would do, what she thought was best for him. He felt like she'd always really understood him well. She might be the person he'd miss the most.

Ichigo headed on down the road, figuring he'd go bug her for a while over at Squad Thirteen. He'll walk – the whole way down. It was a long way, but he wanted to take in the scenery, just in case.

She'd probably be glad for some help. Poor woman had a lot on her plate over there. He didn't envy her. As much as he wanted to stay here, that kind of responsibility seemed stressful, caging, and he was still young. Saving the world wasn't so much – it was all in the greater name of protecting those he cared about – but captaincy, he was a young guy and that kind of a job seemed so binding, restrictive. Responsible for so many people, bound by the law, sometimes forced to make sucky decisions: Ichigo didn't envy that.

As a kid he'd always hoped for a quiet life; maybe that's what had driven him to protect, the desire to keep that dream alive for someone else - the ability to live peacefully, to freely love someone else and center your world around them. Ichigo didn't want anyone else to lose that like he had lost it. Everything he's done since then has felt like the rambling futile efforts of a lost and blubbering child trying to fix the sand castle – their sand castle – that had been destroyed by the ancient and cruel tide. Maybe it could be fixed, rebuilt again, but not the same, never the same.

Not the same, but perhaps beautifully, heartbreakingly, eerily similar. Similar enough that–

Ichigo sighed. It was anyone's guess what he'd do at this point. Here, he felt accepted, but it was a far cry from a sand castle on the beach. Here he had the chance for a drastically different life than the one he'd been trying to recreate, just as wonderful, perhaps infinitely more fulfilling, maybe even enough to perfectly fill the hole or scoop out all the pain of the past – he has a chance for happiness in an adventure, in the infinite unknown, if he diverts from the path he'd planned, the path he'd been stuck on as he struggled to stack and shape the sand back like it'd been before and tried to be happy with it, tried not to compare it to the first one that had been perfect in every way.

Maybe that adventure would land him on a far-flung and unexplored island, preshaped by nature, having been waiting there for him since before the day he'd been born, waiting, waiting for him to just set foot on the bare shore, wild and exciting, untouched; he can make something new there. Equally lovely and inviting, but crafted completely differently from everything he'd lost, everything he was terrified that he might never get back.

That was what scared him though – if he stayed and went looking for a new way to go, he might lose the chance of having that nearly identical sand castle; if he tried, he might almost get it the same. It might feel close. It might feel good enough. He might not spend every day of his life comparing it to the first one, he might not be tortured by its slight flaws and differences, he might be satisfied at least. If he didn't try, he'd never know, and he didn't know if he wanted that loose end left dangling like that . . .

Crap, he'd made himself sad.

He took a gusty sigh and tried to put off the tough shit for when he and Rukia met. There'd be time for pain and suffering, and it would surely be when she heard his bellyaching.

Inoue had already gone home. Ichigo pinched his chin thoughtfully. Now that this whole Yhwach mess was over and Ichigo was free to leave Seireitei and make a quiet life, that Inoue, she-

"Oi, Ichigo!"

Ichigo shook his head as though to shake off the chains of his troubled thoughts, and located the source of that familiar voice. He looked over his shoulder, straightening up at the welcome sight of an out-of-control red pony and double bandannas.

"Oh! Renji!"

Renji raised a hand as he caught up with him, and Ichigo stood and waited. He cleared his throat and took a half-step back as Renji came up next to him. The airflow resulting from Renji's brisk pace continued towards him and Ichigo could tell Renji had been working in the office, which explained why they hadn't seen each other in the past day or so. Anything that's been around Byakuya stinks of flowers.

Renji, seeming slightly out of breath, grinned down at him, although it's not as far down as Ichigo remembered. As his head tilted forward slightly, the sun glinted off the reflective glass of his stupidly expensive and clearly new visor. A privately fond and slightly scornful laugh scraped around inside him, only escaping enough for Ichigo's lip to quirk and for his breath to rush out of his nose. Big idiot.

"Yo. Were you with the Sou-Taichou?"

"Ahh, yeah," Ichigo griped, scowling a bit and starting to walk again. Renji plodded along next to him after watching him go for a moment, seeming oddly thoughtful, which was a bit annoying. Ichigo was tired of thinking and talking about his decisions; it got him all gloomy, and whenever he got like that around here, he always got smacked up side the head for it. "Wants to know what I'm gonna' do. No rush, but… ah, time ta' move on. He's gotta' plan around my decision."

Renji grunted a response and was quiet for a minute, like he was trying to figure something out. Ichigo didn't bother keeping the conversation up, figuring whatever Renji was here for – if anything – he'd come out with it on his own eventually.

"So," Renji finally mumbled, scratching behind his ear in a way that suggested it hadn't actually itched, "You, uh… You decided yet?"

"Nah."

"Oh." Grunting, Renji nodded sharply and they continued in relative silence. Ichigo walked at an easy pace, looking around him with a wistful gaze intent on memorizing every detail.

"Is there a reason we're walking? Where're you goin' anyways?"

"To Rukia."

"Ahh, fuck, that's all the way on the other end. Why not just shunpo?" Renji complained.

Ichigo shrugged once. "Thought I'd see it all one more time." There was a long loaded pause.

"You're not goin' though."

"Who knows what'll happen."

Renji didn't complain again about walking and slowed down with him. Ichigo expected him to eventually grow annoyed or bored and tell him he had somewhere to be, then split, but Renji stayed and took the same steps he did; he even stayed silent and looked where Ichigo looked, at the peak of every roof, at every tree branch, every weed growing through a crack in the street. His expression was a bit hard, and whenever Ichigo glanced at him, he glared away at some point in front of them.

Ichigo gave a long controlled sigh. It'd been quiet around here for the last little while. Hollow activity has gone back to normal. Well… normal as in it was like the good old days when he'd first found out about his powers. Not much to fight besides the normal Hollows, maybe a Menos on a rough day. People are safer than ever. Things have settled down a lot since Yhwach ate it.

They don't really need Ichigo here anymore, do they. He's free to go home. If he wants to.

"Wanted'a' talk."

Ichigo, not having realized he'd drifted away into thought and memory again, looked up at the sudden assertion, only to find that Renji was still glaring away from him as though he hadn't said anything. This by itself wasn't of much note because Renji could be a surly bastard at times, but after having come up to him so seemingly cheerful, the change in mood was a bit perturbing. "… Yeah?" Ichigo acknowledged after a few moments as if to say, 'Okay, well, are you gonna' talk or what?'

"Whaddaya' think you're gonna' do now?" Renji asked, stubbornly refusing to meet Ichigo's eyes even though he clearly knew Ichigo was looking at him.

He stared for a few moments longer, hoping to at least make Renji sweat if he was going to ignore him like that, but if that fucker had one thing going for him, the guy does not break. Ichigo finally sighed and let his head pivot forward again, and immediately in his periphery, he saw Renji's gaze snap to him like a magnet released from the hold of a stubborn child. "I dunno'," he said simply, rubbing at his hair and gazing up at the sky, the patchy clouds, a smattering of passing birds.

"I wish I didn't have to decide now." He hadn't meant to let his voice come out that sad or small sounding.

"Yeah," Renji prompted gruffly when Ichigo didn't go on.

"Yeah, I dunno', I just," Ichigo sighed tiredly, "I always thought I wanted a normal life, but that year an' a half bein' a normal guy again… wasn't great." He looked away in embarrassment, brows tightening. He hadn't admitted that to anyone here before. "I know you guys had stuff to do, but it felt like…"

He'd been hurt when no one had come to see him. That felt like a stupid and childish thought, so he didn't say aloud that he wished they would've visited him, even just once, but it was the truth. He'd felt forgotten; he'd been lonely.

Life had really sucked without this part of him. Meeting Rukia had brought him out of this depression that he'd been trapped in for what must've been ages. Losing her and the world she'd introduced him to had sent him back to that passive and depressed state of limbo he'd been drifting through before they'd met. It had been really hard to go on, after feeling like he'd found a purpose here, friends, a… a reason to- . . . Anyway, it had been really hard to go on like the people he'd met, the job he'd taken, the way his life had changed, like it all had never even happened. He'd wondered countless times if it had been like that for them too, if it had been like Ichigo had never happened and that was why they didn't visit, why they didn't write. He wondered if it had been hard for them, because it had been for him, maybe the hardest thing he'd ever done, to let go of it all just as he'd started to feel like he'd found himself again.

Rukia disintegrating in front of him and seeing, feeling nothing, not even a whisper of her presence – he'd never felt so empty like that. Losing all of this, it had almost been as bad as losing his mom.

Of course, he couldn't say any of that to anyone here now that he was back. It wasn't that he was afraid of what they would say or think; it's that he already knew. He already knew the wallop he'd get to the head, the scolding words he'd receive for being so soft-hearted – but that didn't change the facts that those seventeen months had hurt.

He'd never felt more alone in the world, his life never more pointless. It had taken months to start moving past that, to start to cope with his normal life.

He'd been almost unbearably lonely.

"I dunno' what it felt like," he finished, thankful that Renji hadn't interrupted his long silence with scorn or hit him for admitting he'd doubted that they'd still cared, that he'd thought they'd forgotten him – that he had such a weakened, young, and emotional response to the thought of life without them, that without them, he didn't have a reason to be strong.

– for admitting that without this, without all of them, he was weak.

He looked up again, swallowing as he met Renji's eyes to gauge his reaction. His face was unreadable, neutral, his eyes sharp and piercing into him. To break the mood, Ichigo added, "-But I missed all a' this." He quirked his lip and then glanced away, Renji's stare making him distinctly uneasy.

"Me too." Ichigo looked back again, quickly, like a child who'd spotted lightning in a snowstorm and searched for a duplicate strike voraciously even though the freak occurrence was unlikely to be repeated. He blinked in surprise, opening his mouth to say something, and found he had nothing. Renji cleared his throat and pursed his lips, seeming equally surprised by his own words as he fiercely looked the other way. Seeing as he was clearly uncomfortable, Ichigo figured that maybe that had been an embarrassing slip of the tongue that Renji now regretted. Too curious to tease and risk preventing Renji from saying more, Ichigo carefully turned his head forward, but peeked an eye at him. "I mean, uh… It was… quiet," Renji eventually explained, "with you gone."

Ichigo nodded to urge him on, bewildered and perversely fascinated by Renji's weird behavior. He wasn't very talkative, which was unusual, and was moodier than normal too.

"I had a lotta' thinkin' time," Renji went on, his tone more brisk, as though he would soon be coming to the point but had to work up to it. He kept his head turned unnecessarily far away, like he didn't want Ichigo to see anything but his ear. Ichigo occasionally looked ahead to watch where he was going, but glanced back to Renji's face as they went, by now completely clueless as to where Renji was taking this. "Lotta' work." He scratched at the base of his ponytail, pulling on a piece of his hair; kinda' fidgety, wasn't he. "An'… Well, then when ya' came back and you were around again, I realized that whole thing about whatcha' did for me an' Rukia, right?" He cleared his throat again, scratching his nose, "An' I really got the whole reason, you know, that people… well… why people respect you an' want you around n' stuff. You're like, a hero."

If he'd had no idea where this was going before, they were in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere now – the only thing he could catch onto was that it sounded like he was being set up for a joke. Renji always fucked with him like that. He's no hero and they both know it. He smirked a bit and came to a stop in an open courtyard and some trees along the road. Renji slowly approached nearby, arms crossed and shifting his weight frequently.

"Why everyone says that anyway," he hastily corrected. "Not that I agree. Don't go gettin' a big head or whatever."

"Puh'," Ichigo snorted. "Nice ta' hear you finally admitting it. So, the reason – is it 'cause I fix everything?" he joked.

Renji uncrossed his arms and let his fists hang at his sides, clenching and unclenching. He took a step towards Ichigo, who leisurely rested his butt against a tree trunk, beginning to suspect that he'd made a miscalculation in assuming Renji was yanking his chain. He looked pretty serious now, so much so that Ichigo wondered if he might try to hit him after all.

"No."

Ichigo chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute, scanning Renji's tense stance and his aggressive body language. Did he do something to piss him off? What accounted for such a sharp change in mood? He was starting to get a little nervous. That glare of Renji's was seriously intense.

"… What then?"

Renji stepped in even closer, close enough that Ichigo instinctively tried to veer his head back to compensate and maintain a reasonable amount of personal space, but couldn't much due to the tree at his back. His mouth shut with a snap and he watched as Renji's eyes flicked over his face as though he were looking for something specific and was dissatisfied in not finding it. Ichigo's face flushed and the hair stood up all over his body as he felt Renji's breath on his cheek. God, he was so close.

He wasn't saying anything. Why wasn't he saying anything? He was just fucking staring at him! What kind of joke was this?!

Unable to take the awkwardness, Ichigo blurted out, "You're acting fucking weird," and moved away a bit, crossing his arms and biting his lip viciously, willing the heat in his cheeks to die down. The hell had that been about, huh?

Renji crossed his own arms and sidled closer again, not as close as before, but still in Ichigo's space. "You're not goin' back again, are ya'?" Ichigo looked up at the unexpected question and his scowl eased at the sight of Renji's troubled frown.

"Before," Renji said flatly, more bothered than he was letting on, "When you said'ja' wanted'a' see it all again. You didn't say you weren't." Ichigo clenched his eyes shut and sighed. Renji's voice held a bit more emotion for brief nearly indecipherable moments, sharp around the edges in small bursts that were as quick and hard to follow as a crackle of sparks blowing off of an open fire. "You're not really gonna' go back, are you?"

"What do you want me to say, Renji? Yes, I've been thinking about it. Sue me," Ichigo sniped without much energy. He was far too tired to argue this one. Just thinking about it was making him unbearably sad. "I grew up there. You people have sent me back there like, a bunch of times now anyway, and it's just as well – Karakura is my home." The words hurt coming out.

"Iz'at' where you feel like you belong?" Renji pressed uncertainly, his eyes shifting, "With normal humans?"

"You saying I don't?" Ichigo accused, brow furrowing. Did Renji really think that?

Tossing his head with a harsh huff through his teeth, Renji turned away completely then, hands in balls at his sides, his shoulders tense. The words that came next were loud, so crisp and deliberate, angry, that they were unmistakable, yet they were still so outside the realm of reasonable probability that they took Ichigo a second to process.

"I'm saying I'd fuckin' miss you."

That shut Ichigo right up, and every thought of spiting that fucker Renji who thought he couldn't have a happy fulfilling sandcastle life in the Living World ebbed away.

Clearly the words had been spur of the moment, because now they were hanging there, and no one wanted to follow that one up. They both just stood there for a moment, embarrassed – because that was a line they'd agreed not to cross. 'I never want to get that sentimental again:' Renji had said something to that effect not long ago when they'd been facing the very real chance of death, and yet here he'd just broken the rules, he'd gone and let slip that he'd miss Ichigo if he went away. That wasn't allowed. It was too truthful, too vulnerable, naked, and the moment after was hot with shame and pulsing with the raw nerves that had been left exposed by that impulsive outburst.

Ichigo's every muscle was drawn taught, and whether they were straining so hard in an effort to hold him still or to try to get him to move, he had no idea; he was too aghast to know the difference. It didn't matter now, nothing did. Nothing ever would again – Renji didn't want him to go. Renji had come to tell him not to go home. He wanted Ichigo to stay here.

Ichigo swallowed, and then tried again when his throat was too dry. He felt like the ensuing silence would keep echoing indefinitely, awkward and stuffed far too full of emotion they'd avoided acknowledging directly, at least until Renji had gone and- Ichigo felt like he had been poked full of cotton, jammed to bursting with it. Renji wanted him to stay here, he'd said as much out loud, and Ichigo was fucking mortified.

When neither of them could take it anymore, Renji chanced a glance at him. Whatever emotion Ichigo had then displayed for Renji to have deemed it safe to turn back towards him, he didn't know. He couldn't feel his face; it might as well be a plaster mold. All the same, Renji turned, keeping his head down. His brows were pushed together, dark and harsh beneath his bandanna. His fists coiled tight as though he were trying to hold something closed with the force of his grip. An inkling of suspicion started to creep and crawl through, leaving Ichigo itching all over. "I'm sayin' I've lost out on time with someone that I…" Ichigo startled, foot shifting back. Renji grit his teeth. "It's happened before."

Before? Ichigo thought of what Renji had told him about him and Rukia drifting apart, unable to even look at each other for forty years. He thought of that pain, losing someone you love so much, and he knows Renji better at this moment than he ever has, understood how he worked, his motivations, his troubles, his sorrows. Ichigo thought of that pain, and he-

"I've paid for it, an' I've learned the hard way not ta' let that shit slide – ta' not... repeat my worst mistakes," Renji growled, his voice growing tight and angry, and the creeping suspicion of what was coming pounced out of the bushes and hit Ichigo all at once, with more momentum and force than a ton of bricks. It broke his legs, destroyed them, crushed them; they would never walk again, but there was no pain. Everything below the belly button tingled, and he gets why it's called butterflies now, because his pulse flutters. The legs are still gone – what legs. He felt like he was floating. He felt like he'd throw up, he was tingling so much – because he thought he knew what was happening, what Renji was saying. "And Ichigo, you dumbass, annoying, frustrating, idiotic-"

"Hey, the fuck?" he snapped, but his voice was thin and so, so weak.

"I'm tellin' you now, before ya' go," Renji said, drawing closer. Ichigo let him. His throat was dry and his palms sweated. "Just so I've got it out and you know it," he added lowly, his eyes flicking down. And Ichigo didn't just think then; he knew. Renji must've known his point had gotten across, because he didn't seem antsy or upset anymore, now that he had the words out. He seemed resigned, relieved even, and his eyes raised to Ichigo's tentatively, and as they finally did so, Ichigo could see this fragile, hopeful, wild thing living in there.

"O-" he stuttered, eyes wide, "Oh."

He hadn't had the slightest suspicion in the world, hadn't noticed a thing. People always told him he was a dolt and that he didn't catch on to the most obvious things, but he'd chalked that up to a bad string of coincidences. But now here Renji was, telling him that- Just look at those eyes, don't you see what-? And Ichigo did feel like a dolt. He blinked and shook his head slightly. 'Oh.'

Whether he took Ichigo's silent stricken reaction as surprise or shyness, or thought that since he hadn't had a violent outburst thus far that it meant he was receptive, Renji kept approaching regardless, coming in closer and closer.

Ichigo's heart pounded like a butterfly's wingbeat, quick and light and with no particular rhythm. Renji was so close, and he didn't look upset anymore. His brow was tense, but not in anger. No, he wasn't mad at all. His eyes were searching, his words low and tentative, almost gentle.

"Do you get what I'm saying?"

He does. He really does, and he won't make Renji say it. Ichigo's cheeks blazed and he didn't breathe, couldn't breathe enough to even respond verbally, because Renji kept approaching, more and more, until he was right in his face and his lips were so close by that any sudden twitch could put it over. Renji's slow calm breaths made it feel like they were already touching from the way they filled the space with warmth. All the dangers he'd faced, all the terror and uncertainty and self-doubt Ichigo had felt, and this was the moment he felt like he might die, that he might be finished, over with, defeated – because he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't lift a finger. He felt special, and frightened, and weak.

Renji braced a hand next to Ichigo's face, and Ichigo swallowed hard as Renji's eyes conspicuously flicked down to his lips and then back up to his startled eyes. The distance was closing as Renji tilted his head, and Ichigo's eyes started to drift close, out of his control, almost as though he'd been tranquilized and was falling into a trance. Renji's lips were right there, brushing just to the side of his mouth, and Ichigo jerked slightly, hesitating, adrenaline making his head spin. His heart pounded like mad, harsh and exhilarating.

Did he get what Renji was saying? Did he fully comprehend what was happening here, that this was a new doorway that had opened up, leading to a terrifying and complete unknown? Could he guess what lay beyond if he chose to venture through? What might be there, what could he discover, what kind of crazy adventure could be waiting, new and unexplored, wonderful, waiting- waiting- Renji's mouth was a mere thread's breadth from his, his breath gusting through his parted lips onto Ichigo's, his entire body seeming to strain against an invisible but immovable barrier a millimeter from Ichigo's skin, waiting eagerly, waiting for him to poke his foot out and place it on the untouched sand of a since unseen island –

"Yeah," Ichigo rasped.

He turned the few increments of space to brush their lips together as he speaks, just barely, and he feels braver than he should, considering what a simple action it was.

"Good." At his reply, Renji's shoulders eased and a long sigh rushed out of him. "Great," he hummed, voice so low that Ichigo felt it more than heard it. He rested his forehead at Ichigo's brow, mouth grazing the side of his cheek, and Ichigo almost jumped as Renji's callused hand slid roughly though his and squeezed for a moment. He tried to glance down without moving his head much, half-afraid that if he did anything but hold stock-still, Renji would back away, would stop. He reciprocated somewhat shyly, holding Renji's fingers in his sweaty grasp.

Renji likes him! His entire brain was in a buzz with the knowledge, head reeling. Ichigo swallowed again, heart jerking around. This was the most exciting thing to happen to him in forever! You know, besides the whole soldier of the undead thing and the world almost ending. Small things.

The moment was short, and Ichigo feverishly exhaled when Renji let go of his hand as quickly as he'd grasped it. He backed away to sort of awkwardly brush himself off. It was weird to watch, and Ichigo just openly gaped at Renji as he cleared his throat and swiped at his nose for no reason whatsoever besides trying to belie his obvious embarrassment. He took a couple steps out towards the street, rolling his shoulders like nothing of note had just happened, not looking at Ichigo, who stared after him, mouth still hanging slack.

Ichigo's hand tingled. Oh god, they'd held hands.

He put his head down and wiped his wet palm on his leg, then stepped after Renji, practically panting. He thinks he might be shaking, just a little. Wow, that had been really…

Renji cleared his throat again, decidedly not looking at him as he started to walk off, scratching at the back of his neck as he went. "Let's get somethin'a' eat after you talk ta' Rukia." Ichigo nodded behind him with a casual grunt and adjusted Zangetsu before following Renji's entirely too large strides.

He watched Renji's long ponytail blow around in the wind and jostle with each of his heavy steps, and bit his lip.

After quickening his pace to walk alongside Renji, he smiled at the thrill the bump of their shoulders sent jolting through him. "Actually, I can do that later."

"Hm? Didn't you have to tell her something?"

"Nah, it can wait."

"Oh. Okay."

Maybe… maybe he will stay in Seireitei. Just for a while longer.

...

Wild thing, I think I love you.