~.X.~ ~.X.~ ~.X.~ (Uryuu's POV)

Four forty five in the morning, Sunday: the bathroom door was finally fixed. Uryuu took a deep breath, stepping back to admire his handiwork before moving over to the tub and turning on the water. He wasn't planning on sleeping, so he might as well keep himself busy, and the first thing he could think of was cleaning up the bathroom. From there... well, he'd give his room a nice scrub down, and try to erase the memories embedded in the wood floors.

At around six thirty, while he was finishing up his room, he heard the front door open and close, and knew Ryuuken had gone to work at the hospital. Uryuu let out a sigh, finally feeling alone and able to really take a look into his thoughts, except... every thought he needed to go over he didn't want to think about. He needed to find a way to beat Ichigo. He needed to find some way to stand up and stop letting this happen to himself. He needed to be stronger and braver and -

Uryuu jumped with a yelp as the phone on his nightstand rung, only to throw down the broom he had in his hands, making an even louder noise on the wooden floor as he scowled, storming over to the phone. Unable to control his sudden burst of anger, he snatched the phone of the stand, answering with a forced,

"Ishida?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before a familiar female voice spoke quietly into his ear.

"... You okay, Uryuu? I mean, Ichigo warned me that you were probably sick, but you sound..."

She trailed off, leaving Uryuu to cringe at the use of Ichigo's name, but before he could either continue with his anger or slide back into that depressive, panicked state, he heard her continue.

"Anyway. He said something about wanting to check on you, so I was hoping he was with you right now?"

Uryuu's heart felt like it skipped a beat, suddenly. His eyes flew to his bedroom window, which was still sealed and locked ever since that first incident. His bedroom door, likewise, was sealed and locked for the time being. Swallowing, he picked the broom up off the floor and held the phone a little closer to his ear, lowering his voice as he spoke,

"Rukia... why would Ichigo be over here?"

Trying to calm his breathing, Uryuu listened carefully as Rukia went into detail of how Ichigo had been sleeping so much recently, so when she'd gone back to his place to wake him up for an early breakfast, she'd found his room completely empty; not even Kon knew where Ichigo had gone, or when he'd left. At the end of her explanation, Uryuu's grip on the broom was hurting his knuckles, painted white from the pressure. His careful breathing he was sure was still coming across loud and clear on the phone, only adding to the pauses Rukia was taking now that she'd finished her words.

"I ... I see." Uryuu forced himself to utter. "If you'll give me a few minutes... I'll go downstairs and check. Um...!" Trying not to panic, Uryuu added quickly, "S-stay on the phone with me. If it's not any trouble. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Sure, Uryuu."

He could hear the confusion in her voice, and he couldn't help but kick himself for how weak he was sounding, but he couldn't get past the fear that Ichigo was in his house again, and this time, he was all alone, with no one to stop Ichigo since he couldn't. The thought of having Rukia on the phone with him, to be able to tell her the results of whether Ichigo was or wasn't in the home with him... it made him feel safer. More secure, even.

With that thought, he pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear, and unlocked the door while still gripping the broom tightly in his right hand. The door creaked slowly open, and Uryuu peered down the dark hallway silently, like a rabbit checking if the coast was clear. Deciding that it was, he inched the door open further and slid out silently, trying to avoid all the creaking areas on the floor that would give his position away.

Nothing in the other bedroom, closet, study, bathroom, or anywhere on the second floor. He was safe here. With a sigh of relief, Uryuu allowed himself the comfort of speaking softly, saying to Rukia,

"He's not on the second floor."

"What about the first floor?" came Rukia's confused reply.

Shit. Of course, he would be expected to inspect the first floor as well. Swallowing heavily, Uryuu gripped the broom tighter with his shaking hand, and turned toward the stairs.

"... right. Of course." he uttered, though whether it was to Rukia or himself, he wasn't sure.

Each step felt like he was decending into the depths of hell, waiting to embrace him with torture and pain until the day he died. His heart was racing, and every second he felt like he wanted to vomit with the way his stomach churned. At the middle of the stairs, when Uryuu stepped down, the floor creaked, and every muscle in his body froze: including his breathing. His body felt rigid and unwilling to move as he listened for any kinds of noises in the house, so it almost brought tears to his eyes when he heard what sounded like metal scraping noises from the kitchen.

He could picture Ichigo sitting on the counter top, sharpening a knife with another knife, waiting for Uryuu to come down. Even the thought made goosebumps break out over Uryuu's skin, and it was hard enough for him not to bolt for the door. Carefully and as quietly as he could, he whispered to Rukia,

"... he's here. He's in my house."

He tried to convey the desperation he felt, but the words came out numb; distant. So it was no surprise, but an internal horror when he heard Rukia respond,

"Ah, that's good. I was just making sure. Tell him to bring back some of those sweets he got yesterday back, too. They're really good. Have fun!"

Click.

Uryuu lowered the phone into his view, staring at the shaking screen seconds before it dimmed. His last hope; his last lifeline: gone. The only reason he didn't throw the phone at the wall was because Ichigo would hear him. Swallowing again, Uryuu forced himself to close the phone and put it in his back pocket before gripping the broom handle with both hands, his knuckles turning white seconds later. He was all alone.

He was afraid.

And there was nothing he could do but face it head on. Even if he managed to sneak back to his room, how long until Ichigo got tired of waiting and came up to find him? He could try to run, but there was no way he was getting out of the front door without Ichigo knowing. Would he attack him in pubic? He'd gotten to him in the library, but that was after they were closed and no one was around... then again, he'd seemed happy to find people outside the window, even if they hadn't noticed.

Uryuu shuddered with his indecision, trying to steel himself for a showdown but unable to muster the nerve to do so. So he stood there.

For what felt like an hour.

Then, almost suddenly, Uryuu's nose caught the scent of something cooking. Rather, something burning. His legs were moving before his mind could catch up with him, though the thought of Ichigo setting the house on fire did make him want to tear out of the house like a bat out of hell. Instead, he found himself running toward the kitchen, broom in hand, just as the smoke detector began blaring its shrill alarm. Uryuu skidded to a stop at the open kitchen door, raising the broom high as if it would help him to fend off his attacker, only to stop cold.

Ichigo turned and gave him a surprised look, before turning the stove off and waving off the smoke coming from the skillet. With a hurried look about him, he rushed onto the counter, reaching at a dangerous angle to hit the button on the smoke detector to turn it off, leaving the kitchen in silence if it wasn't for the quiet, dying sizzling noises left. Ichigo turned back to Uryuu after sliding off the counter, scratching at his head and giving a breathy laugh, but other than that, the two stared at each other for a while.

It was only after Ichigo lowered his hand and stopped laughing, and gave him an odd look that Uryuu realized he felt like he was hyperventilating, and was still holding the broom above his head, weilded by a pair of white-knuckled and shaking hands. He didn't know what to do; his mind and his body felt in shock, and wouldn't move on his command. Ichigo's voice made every single muscle in his body jump, but it still wouldn't move.

"What are you doing?"

When Uryuu didn't answer, Ichigo made a face, then shrugged and turned back toward the skillet before looking through the drawers, coming up with a fork and putting it in the skillet, and moving toward the dining room table. He sat the skillet down in front of one chair, then moved around to pull out the chair opposite it, and sat down. It was only then he glanced back at Uryuu, not having moved still, and said again,

"Come on. I made you breakfast. It's a little burnt, but I'm not a cook, so this'll have to do."

For a moment, Ichigo waited, and when Uryuu continued to hesitate, he waved his hand toward the chair in front of the skillet. Slowly - ever so slowly - Uryuu lowered the broom to his side, and took a few tentative steps into the kitchen, expecting Ichigo to hop from his seat to attack at any moment. He kept pausing on his way to the table, but Ichigo just kept watching with that slightly confused, slightly expectant gaze. Like there was something on his mind.

Unable to fathom what it might be, Uryuu gingerly slid into the seat, but he still hadn't let go of his tight grip on the broom. But it was with a sigh that Ichigo leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. He took a few moments that way, and as nervous as Uryuu was, the smell of food was making his mouth water. When was the last time he'd actually eaten...? Last his memory knew, it had been a little bit of ice cream with Rukia and the others. So... over a day now.

As if on cue, his stomach growled quietly, and Uryuu let the broom slip from his fingertips, clattering to the floor. Unable to help himself, he picked up the fork and began shoveling food into his mouth, savoring the way actual food tasted on his tongue; the few seconds it was there. Bite by bite, Uryuu devoured the entire skillet of eggs, hardly tasting the burnt crust, and hardly minding. When he had finished a few minutes later, he set the fork down gently on the side of the skillet, linking his hands together in his lap.

He had managed to forget Ichigo was sitting directly across from him until his ears heard him shift in his seat. Then it was all he could do to avoid eye contact, afraid of what he would find if he looked up. But it wasn't the words that caught his attention, or made him look at Ichigo. It was the voice of his tormentor, the voice that haunted his nightmares and his living hell.

"Look at me."

Shaking, Uryuu glanced up at Ichigo to find the man had both his elbows on the table, and his hands linked together in front of his nose. He was staring at Uryuu, like he was waiting on an answer, and expected one. Uryuu's heart skipped a beat, and was torn between begging forgiveness for eating and running out of the room when Ichigo spoke again.

"What happened yesterday."

It wasn't a question, and the voice was serious; too serious. Uryuu's head was swimming, and his hands were clammy and beginning to tingle. It might have been Ichigo asking what happened, but it was Ichigo daring him to say anything. Daring him to admit it so he could punish Uryuu for it. The look said it all; the dangerous glint in those eyes told Uryuu that if he uttered a word to anybody, he'd wish he was dead, and Uryuu believed him.

His mouth was dry, and even when he swallowed to wet his mouth to speak a lie, no saliva came, and neither did any words. His ears were ringing loudly, and the tingling feeling had spread through his entire body, especially to his face. What was he supposed to say? What did Ichigo want him to say? What was acceptable?

"Uryuu!"

He heard Ichigo's voice as if from a distance, but it was obvious he was sitting in front of him; it was only when his image became blurry that Uryuu realized his breathing was far too shallow and fast to be good.

By then, it was too late to correct. Uryuu's vision was already turning black when he watched Ichigo move out of the chair in slow motion, and watched the chair tip over backward.

He never heard it hit the ground.

~.X.~ ~.X.~ ~.X.~ (Rukia's POV)

She hit the end button on her phone, but stared at it for a moment or two longer, going over the conversation in her head. Something was off lately about Uryuu, and she didn't buy into him being sick. Ichigo had promised to tell her what he knew last night, but he'd been exhausted and went straight to bed before she could probe him for answers. No, there was more to this than what it seemed, and Rukia wanted to figure out what.

Putting the phone down on Ichigo's nightstand, she turned on her heel, and headed toward the door. If both of them were at Uryuu's place, then they shouldn't mind if she paid them a little visit.