Ichigo was ten when he spoke to his first ghost.
He had seen the man wandering the streets, with that scary chain dangling from his chest, and such terrible pain radiating from every movement.
Ichigo, being a highly atypical kid, had disregarded every warning about "Stranger Danger" he had ever received, and walked up to the man to ask what was wrong. The man just laughed shortly.
"Nothin's wrong, kid," he grunted. The boy shook his head, and, in his high-pitched prepubescent boy voice, said, "You're lying, mister. You're sad. That means something's wrong."
The tall man laughed uproariously. "Kid," he said as he knelt down to look Ichigo in the eye. "Ever heard someone say, 'No use crying over spilt milk'?" At the orangette's nod, he continued. "Well, something is very, very wrong, but no one can fix it. It's not possible. So, if there's no way to fix a problem, why worry about it?"
Ichigo thought his fifth-grader's brain out about that. "I don't think you're right, mister," he frowned. The man just stood up and grinned down at the boy. "Well, when you've got an answer, come find me."
It took Ichigo a month and a half. He thought about the man's words every day, in class, in bed, at meals, and at every other time of the day. But eventually, he figured it out. However, there was one problem.
He needed to find the man again.
"Mister! Mister!" Ichigo sprinted across the rooftop as fast as his little legs could carry him. He was chasing after the silhouette of the strange man. The man turned, eyes widening at the sight of the young boy. "Kid," he said gruffly. "I've got your answer for you, mister!" the orangette said excitedly. "If there's any way to fix your problem-any way at all- you do that! And you do it before your problem gets so bad there's no way to fix it."
The man smiled down at Ichigo. "Listen here, kid, I've got an answer too. If your problem is yourself, do you know what you do?" The boy slowly shook his head. "Then," the man said quietly. "You kill yourself." And before Ichigo could react, the man toppled backwards off the roof. "MISTER!" The orangette ran forward, reaching a hand down, far too late to do any good. He watched as the spirit faded against the concrete far below. "Mister…"
From that day onward, the man's words echoed in the back of Ichigo's mind. When Byakuya and Renji took Rukia back to Soul Society, he thought of killing himself. After all, wouldn't that erase Rukia's crimes? When Aizen captured Orihime, he thought about it again. Wouldn't that get rid of Aizen's need for his friend? When he lost his powers, he fell into depression. Everyone's pitying glances drove him crazy. If he disappeared, wouldn't everyone be happier?
In the end, only one thing stopped him every time Ichigo thought of suicide. It was the same thing, each and every time. It wasn't a happy fact.
After all, Ichigo would be dead by now if death held any mystery to him.