Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.
Cataclysm
Ichigo woke to the sound of low voices and knew immediately that something was wrong. He was lying on his side, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath him in a way that should have been excruciating but somehow wasn't. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything beyond the decidedly odd sensation that he was floating about three inches off of the ground. That and his head seemed to be too large for his body somehow. He frowned, reaching up to confirm this fact, but succeeded only in smacking himself rather hard as his motor control failed. A strange half giggle escaped from his throat. Oh yes, he decided, something was definitely wrong.
He raised his hand, slower this time, and glared at it suspiciously, choking down another bubble of laughter that rose from nowhere. His movements had alerted the other occupants of the room, and he heard them draw closer. Two faces swam lazily above him and he squinted, wishing they would stop spinning like that.
"Ichigo?" Renji's face dipped lower, eyeing him with concern. "You okay?"
"My hand hit me," he confided, presenting the offending appendage for closer inspection.
There was a snort of laughter and Urahara's face came into focus, grinning down at him. "How are you feeling, Kurosaki-kun?"
"Good morning, Urahara-san," he responded solemnly, offering his wayward hand for perusal by the new arrival.
"Is he gonna be okay?" Renji hissed at the older man, frowning as he caught the wildly swinging arm.
Urahara cocked his head to one side, snickering when Ichigo mirrored the movement. "I'm certain there will be no lasting harm."
"What's going on?" Ichigo slurred, looking between them and tugging on the arm Renji still held captive.
"It seems we've had a little miscommunication," Urahara said pleasantly, two fingers pressing against Ichigo's pulse. "Abarai-san was supposed to give you some medicine for your pain and it seems he's given you just a tad bit much."
"What?" Ichigo bit his lip, trying to concentrate but finding it difficult. "Renji?"
The redhead grimaced, "Remember when I woke ya up awhile ago?"
"Noisy bastard," Ichigo giggled and then frowned at himself in confusion.
"Um, yeah." Renji shot another questioning glance at Urahara who was laughing into his sleeve. "Well, I guess I wasn't supposed to give ya the whole bottle."
Awareness stirred in the back of Ichigo's mind and he felt his first twinge of concern. Somewhere in the sluggish depths of his brain was the knowledge that taking too much of a drug was dangerous.
"I'm gonna die again?" he whispered, a shiver running through him.
"Shh, it's nothing like that," Urahara soothed. "You're fine."
"He's not fine," Renji muttered, reaching out to check the pulse himself.
"Of course he is," the former captain replied lightly, shifting his attention back to Ichigo. "It's not particularly harmful; you're just going to feel a bit odd until I find something to counteract it."
"Oh." Ichigo seemed to contemplate this for a moment before his face lit up in realization. "It made my hand hit me?"
"Indeed." Urahara was still grinning when he turned to Renji. "Can you bring him into the other room? I need to find Tessai."
Renji nodded, eyeing Ichigo warily as the other man left the room. "Do ya think ya can get up?"
"Of course," Ichigo declared sluggishly, tripping over his words and looking vaguely insulted.
"Right." Renji stared at him doubtfully when he made absolutely no move to do so. "How 'bout I carry ya?"
"Okay," he agreed easily, making a grab for the redhead and missing completely.
Ichigo was still frowning at his unexpected failure when a pair of arms slid under him and lifted him easily off of the ground. The world spun wildly and he threw his hands out to steady himself, catching Renji across the face and sending him staggering.
"Watch it," he snapped. "Ya want me to drop your ass?"
"No," Ichigo snickered, wrapping his arms around Renji's neck and leaning into his chest.
"Just stop moving, would ya," Renji huffed, stepping around the futon.
Ichigo wasn't listening, because as soon as his head had stopped spinning he'd found himself eye level with the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Renji had tattoos on his neck. Of course he'd known that already, but it didn't make them any less interesting. He watched them roll as Renji moved; sharp slashes of coal against his skin. He didn't understand how anything could be that dark and flawless and still be real. He wanted to touch them but seemed to recall there being a rule against it, though he couldn't remember why. His fingers twitched and he bit his lip, wondering if Renji would notice him moving.
Then, in a moment of drug hazed inspiration, a very fuzzy little light seemed to flicker on in his head. Slowly and carefully, so as not to seem suspicious, he leaned forward and ran his tongue over one of those amazingly crisp lines. Renji drew a sharp breath, faltering mid-step as his head snapped down in disbelief.
"Ichigo," his voice was carefully neutral. "What're ya doin'?"
"I wanted to see what your tattoos taste like," Ichigo slurred, squinting up at him as if it should have been obvious.
"Uh-huh." Renji eyed him dubiously, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Ya ain't gonna be too happy about that later."
"They taste good," he assured him, as though this made it alright.
"Just stop movin'." Renji shook his head, wondering how the real Ichigo was going to respond to this little encounter.
The boy in question nuzzled back into his neck but refrained from any more licking. "I like tattoos," he murmured, lips moving against his skin.
"Ya damn well better remember this ain't my fault," Renji grumbled, toeing open the door and marching over to where Urahara and Tessai were crouched. They were pouring over the contents of a strangely colored case, talking in low voices. "Where do ya want him?" he demanded.
"You can set him there." Urahara motioned to nowhere in particular as he looked back and forth between two identical bottles.
Renji knelt and lowered Ichigo carefully to the ground, conscious that he was still injured even if he couldn't feel it. Tessai scooted towards them, peeling back one of Ichigo's eyelids and muttering something under his breath.
"Can you sit up, Kurosaki-kun?" Urahara had joined them.
"Yes," Ichigo assured him, tugging at his own eyelid like he'd felt Tessai doing.
"No," Renji corrected with an exasperated sigh, already moving to help.
He slipped his hands under Ichigo's armpits and hauled him backwards gently, pulling him into a half sitting position against his own chest. He slipped an arm around him, avoiding the worst of the bandages, and looked up at Urahara for further instructions.
"You need to swallow this." He held up a rather ominous looking pill.
Ichigo just blinked at him and Renji's eyes narrowed as he recognized its markings. "Isn't that from 4th division? How'd you get it?"
"I have a good supplier," he replied loftily, touching the pill to Ichigo's lips. "Open," he commanded softly.
Ichigo complied easily, letting the older man slide the thoroughly disgusting thing onto his tongue. He tried to spit it back out but strong fingers slipped under his chin and pushed his mouth closed.
"Swallow," Urahara urged, and was vaguely surprised when Ichigo actually did.
The three of them sat there for a moment, eyeing him doubtfully as if expecting the pill to miraculously rematerialize. When it became clear that he'd actually managed to get it down they breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"How long 'till it works?" Renji asked, opting to keep a hold on Ichigo lest he find some way to hurt himself and ruin their impending victory.
"Not long, I suspect." Urahara seated himself more comfortably on the floor. "They do quality work in 4th division."
The older men fell into light conversation as they waited for their patient to return to himself. Ichigo, for his part, seemed content to just watch them with ever increasing interest. At first he had trouble following what was being said, they were talking so fast and he kept getting distracted by anything that moved. Gradually, though, like a fog lifting, it became easier to make out what was going on and he felt his brain start to grind back into gear. With a jolt, not unlike being electrocuted, everything seemed to click back into place and pain returned to his world, aggravated by all of his previous flailing. He hissed, eyes squeezing shut.
"Ah, I see you're feeling better, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said brightly, bringing everyone's' attention back to him.
"I feel like I got hit by a truck," Ichigo complained, cracking an eye open.
"An unavoidable side-effect of negating the pain reliever, I'm afraid." He grinned. "At least your hand isn't attacking you anymore."
"What?" Ichigo frowned, feeling the words tickle a fuzzy memory that he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like.
He remembered bits and pieces of what had been happening since he'd woken to a drug hazed stupor, but it was unclear and jumbled. It was like trying to focus on a dream once the light hit it and everything started to burn it away. He frowned in concentration, trying to shuffle things into their proper place. He recalled the incident with his hand, much to his embarrassment, and the conversation about the overdose. He also sort of remembered leaving the room; Renji had been carrying him again. Renji moving carefully, saying something that he wasn't paying attention to because he's been distracted again. Damn tattoos.
His eyes went wide, the pain momentarily forgotten, as he replayed a particular memory that he prayed was just some drug induced hallucination. He winced, dropping his gaze to the floor as he felt the heat start to rise in his cheeks. He was busily trying to come up with some other explanation, any other explanation, for the pictures in his head when something shifted against him. A little chill of foreboding ran through him and very slowly, with the feeling of marching to his own execution, he tipped his head back to look at the man he'd just realized was holding him. Renji met his gaze with trepidation, his expression telling Ichigo that he knew exactly what he was thinking about. Definitely not a hallucination.
"Motherfucker!" he exclaimed to no one in particular, dropping his head back into his hands.
(*)
"How are you feeling now?" Urahara asked, setting a cup of tea in front of Ichigo before pouring his own.
The younger man stretched his arm out to the side, flexing his fingers a couple of times before shrugging. "I'm fine."
He'd just finished his final session with Tessai and had downed a correctly measured portion of Urahara's black market, shinigami pain medicine. He didn't feel perfect, far from it, but he'd certainly felt worse so he wasn't complaining. Tessai had even said that he'd be able to return to light duty in a couple of days, as long as he left the majority of the fighting to someone else. Ichigo had scoffed at the idea but had agreed, tired of being cooped up. Of course that raised a whole other issue.
"Urahara-san." he fiddled with one of his bandages, unsure of where to start. "I'm sorta having a problem."
"You're still having trouble reaching Zangetsu?" Urahara sipped his tea, regarding him over the rim of the cup.
"I haven't been able to talk to either him or my Hollow since I woke up," he admitted, not bothering to ask how the older man had known about the issue. Urahara always seemed to be one step ahead.
"It's slightly troubling, but not particularly unexpected," the former captain mused. "It's likely they were gravely injured as well. You must give them time to recover."
"So you think they're just resting somewhere?" Ichigo frowned, considering this.
"I can only assume so." Urahara traced the rim of his hat thoughtfully.
Ichigo sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his face. "Is there anything I can do to be sure?"
"Easiest method would be to become a shinigami, as that form is more closely linked to your zanpaktou, but I wouldn't recommend a trying it at the moment," Urahara said calmly. "It would be better to wait until at least tomorrow, to give Tessai's work time to set in."
"And if that doesn't work?" Ichigo didn't really feel like waiting, but his near brush with death had left him willing to embrace patience, at least temporarily.
"I have certain methods I could use to force you into your inner world, but I would rather not use them unless it's absolutely necessary," Urahara stated evenly.
"I feel like I did after Byakuya tried to kill me," he admitted quietly. "I feel like I'm cut off from part of myself."
"Are you worried that you may have severed your shinigami powers again, like you did with the one's you took from Rukia?" Urahara had set his tea down and was regarding him with interest.
"I don't know." Ichigo shrugged, a cold knot forming in his stomach. "Is it possible?"
"It's always possible, I suppose," Urahara conceded. "But I don't think it's the case with you."
"Are you sure?" Ichigo asked, feeling somewhat better.
Urahara frowned, his eyes loosing focus for a moment, and Ichigo felt something brush the outer edge of his consciousness. The older man blinked. "Your reiatsu is unstable, but it is definitely still present."
"So what does that mean?" Ichigo pressed.
"It means that we'll know more tomorrow." He sighed, climbing to his feet. "Just try to rest until then."
He paused for a moment, fishing around in his pockets before pulling out Ichigo's substitute badge. He studied it for a moment before handing it carefully to the younger man. "You should probably have this."
"I thought you said it wouldn't be safe," Ichigo questioned, frowning at the thing.
"Well I'm not recommending you use it, but it's safer to have it with you." He smirked down at him. "Your propensity for attracting trouble astounds even me."
Ichigo scowled at him but shoved the badge into his pocket anyway.
"I have some things to attend to," Urahara continued. "Would you like me to send Abarai-san to assist you?"
Ichigo's scowl darkened as a hint of color touched his cheeks. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Urahara's smirk grew. "It wouldn't be a problem."
Ichigo made no reply, not that the older man had been expecting one, and he soon found himself alone in the room. He slumped back against the ground, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. Ever since his less than subtle outburst earlier in the day Urahara had been giving him odd looks of amusement mixed with curiosity. He hadn't asked, but Ichigo knew he was dying to know what had brought it on, and judging by the direction of his comments, he seemed to at least know the general subject matter. Urahara was right; trouble was just drawn to him.
He spent a little while trying to contact Zangetsu and failed once again, though there was a faint stirring this time. Deciding that there was nothing for it but to wait he climbed gingerly to his feet. He really did feel amazingly better, but he was still weighed down by an achy fatigue. He considered trying to walk home, as he had officially been released, but he was reluctant to do so. Urahara had stated that he would need someone to go with him in case something came up, and he had no doubts as to who it would be.
Renji had made a pretty quick exit after his recovery and the brief scene that followed, citing the need to file overdue reports. Ichigo hadn't seen him since, and while part of him was grateful for that, there was another part that was pushing him to seek the redhead out. He had no idea what to say, but the fact was that avoiding him felt like running, and he'd made certain promises to himself regarding that very thing.
Deathbed promises to oneself are often things of great insight and courage, things that challenge beliefs, fears, and even the universe itself. The problem arises when one makes these promises and then fails to die, leaving the resolutions to either be discarded, usually out of cowardice, or upheld. Ichigo was no coward, and so now he was stuck with his decision to stop running away from the embarrassing shit with Renji, at least until he knew what he was running from. He just wished that he'd come to this understanding before any drug impaired licking had occurred, because now he wanted to run more than ever.
He slid the door open and wandered out into the hall. Bypassing all of the rooms, he made his way out through the front of the store, leaning against the building and trying to gather his thoughts. It wasn't really hiding, he told himself, he was just getting some fresh air so that he could think properly. Satisfied with his excuses he slid down to the ground, leaning against the wall and looking out into the gathering dusk.
His mind wandered back to the Arrancar and his own near demise. He wondered if Aizen had some higher purpose for sending it out or if he'd just been unlucky. That was the thing with Aizen, there was no real way to tell what he was thinking because half the stuff he did made no sense. Technically that wasn't true, as it tended to make sense at some later date, but when it was happening it all seemed random.
"Fucking Aizen!" Ichigo muttered angrily to himself. "Crazy-assed, psychotic, plotting bastard."
All reports seemed to indicate that the Arrancar would be ready to move against Soul Society sometime in the winter. Ichigo privately thought it would be a hell of a lot sooner, and he suspected that Urahara would agree. The former captain had taken to locking himself away for days at a time, working on one project or another at a fevered pace. Ichigo didn't bother being curiosity about what he was doing; he figured it was only a matter of time before the other man sought him out for assistance. After all, he was, as Urahara had so eloquently put it, the only Hollow they knew, which made him the most obvious test subject.
He hadn't really minded the Negacion field tests, they wore him out but they didn't hurt that much. It was a bit disconcerting to get dragged into some sort of void dimension but he was never worried, Urahara could always let him out if something went wrong. He wondered if Aizen had perfected the technology yet, because that was a more troubling thought. If Aizen figured out Ichigo's nature then there was a chance he might use the thing on him. He was pretty sure that Aizen wouldn't be letting him out if something went wrong. All the more reason to let Urahara test on him he supposed.
Of course, those thoughts inevitably lead back around to worries about the lack of contact with his inner world. He couldn't train without full use of his spirit power, and if he couldn't train then he couldn't be of any help. He thought about his Hollow, those fingers trailing over the bloody grass, the slide of skin on skin as the hand closed over his. It was unimaginable that the creature would willingly help him, but all the evidence seemed to suggest that's exactly what had happened. They were rivals, enemies whose primary goal was to beat the other into submission and hold him there with brute strength. He was supposed to hate him, and yet he couldn't seem to stop worrying.
There was a time when Ichigo would have given anything to be rid of the Hollow, to have him banished forever from the deepest regions of his soul. There was a time when everything about the creature made him sick, made him shake with a dread so deep that it chilled his bones. That time, it seemed, had passed. He needed his Hollow now, because only together did they possess the strength to face what he felt was coming. The Espada were frighteningly powerful, and so he needed to be as well. He wondered if by accepting this help he was bargaining away a piece of his soul. He wondered if knowing the answer would change his decision. He fell once again into silent worry.
(*)
Renji stifled a yawn as he made his way back to Urahara's, having just come off a particularly uneventful patrol. It was bad enough having to wander around for hours with Yumichika complaining about anything and everything, but it hadn't even been his turn in the first place. Ikkaku was scheduled go, but he'd swapped with Matsumoto's earlier shift because she'd wanted to do some shopping before the stores closed. Unfortunately, she seemed to forget that swapping meant she still had to patrol later because when Yumichika had shown up to retrieve her, she'd been rather sloshed. He'd taken one look at her lying in the middle of the floor, looking disheveled and happily clutching a half-empty sake bottle, and promptly declared that he absolutely refused to be seen with her.
He'd demanded that Hitsugaya go in her place, but he'd just come off patrol with Ikkaku and was looking forward to a break. He nudged his vice-captain once with his foot, looking just as put out as Yumichika when she burst into a fit of giggles. Sighing, he'd fished out his communicator to call Renji. Thus, the red haired shinigami found himself out patrolling with a rather put out Yumichika and no dinner. He could only hope that once Ichigo healed up they could establish some solid teams and a schedule that allowed him more than 30 seconds notice.
He sighed, wondering what Ichigo was up to. As he'd suspected, things had deteriorated fairly rapidly after Ichigo returned to his senses, and he hadn't stuck around long enough to see where the blame was going to land. It wasn't that he'd been scared, but Ichigo had refused to look at him and there had been a particularly interested gleam in Urahara's eye that didn't bode well for anyone's state of mind. Leaving seemed like the wisest course of action.
He figured that Ichigo was probably home by now, having been declared free to move, but he'd decided to return to Urahara's instead. He was starving and he wanted to grab something to eat, and possibly a shower, before he headed out again. Besides, he wanted to take his gigai over to Ichigo's when he went; it was easier to dress the thing there. He'd been taking a lot less shit about his clothes lately and he wasn't about to give it up, no matter how many half-assed threats Ichigo grumbled. He smirked to himself, figuring that if Ichigo really meant it he'd have punched him by now. He rounded the corner, still amused by his own line of reasoning, and found the boy in question sitting alone against the wall, illuminated by the moon and the light pouring through a nearby window.
He altered his course slightly, heading towards the figure who was still managing to look surly dressed in a pair of slightly too large hakama and wrapped in what looked suspiciously like one of Urahara's haori. Ichigo didn't look up as he approached, staring intently down at his hands, seemingly lost to the world. Renji stopped a couple of feet away, unsure if he should interrupt or just continue inside.
"Staring at me is kinda creepy, you know?" Ichigo muttered after a minute, still not bothering to look up.
"Thought ya might still be pissed," Renji supplied, eyeing the top of the orange head.
Ichigo tipped his head back and met the stare, looking like he was, indeed, still pissed. "You gonna stand there all night or do you wanna sit down?
Renji shrugged, pulling Zabimaru out of his sash and sliding down the wall next to the younger man. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension while Ichigo went back to staring at nothing. Renji drew up his knees, bracing his forearms against them so he could draw patterns in the dust with his zanpakutou.
"How was patrolling?" Ichigo finally broke the silence.
"Borin' as shit," Renji huffed. "But at least everyone's okay." He paused for a moment before adding, "Heard ya finished with Tessai."
"Yeah," Ichigo confirmed, "but Urahara said I have to stay in my body until tomorrow."
"Betcha can't wait to get back into the fight." Renji flashed him a grin.
Ichigo looked slightly uncomfortable, a frown playing between his brows. "Yeah."
"What's wrong?" Renji asked, his grin falling away.
Ichigo just shrugged. "I think I fucked Zangetsu up," he admitted.
"Is that all?" Renji dismissed his with a half wave. "Hell, I've broken Zabimaru more than once and he's fine. Just gotta let 'em heal up."
"That's what Urahara said," Ichigo scowled.
Renji just nodded sagely and went back to drawing in the dirt. After awhile he rolled his head back to look at his companion. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"
"When did you start asking permission?" Ichigo wondered out loud, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.
"It's called manners, dumbass." Renji rolled his eyes before falling serious again. "I was just wonderin' how the Arrancar got ya that day. I mean, I've tried ta kill ya a couple of times and it was fuckin' rough."
"No real mystery," Ichigo sighed, looking hard at the ground for a long moment. "I could barely feel it because it was hiding its reiatsu, and I wasn't really paying enough attention, cause I was thinking about something. One second I was looking over at the city, trying to figure out if I was actually feeling something and the next I had a big-ass spike in my chest."
"That's some scary shit," Renji muttered. "There was no sound or nothin'?"
"I didn't hear anything, but like I said, I was distracted." He sounded angry with himself. "Thing had me down before I even knew what was going on. Fucking sloppy."
Ichigo continued to scowl but Renji just shrugged. "Ain't nothin' you can do about it now, I guess, just gotta be more careful."
"That's it? You're not gonna call dumbass for getting jumped or anything?" Ichigo prompted but Renji just shrugged again.
"When the hell did you start handing out good advice?" Ichigo was still baffled by anything less than antagonistic Renji.
"I'm always full of good advice," Renji huffed. "You assholes just never shut the hell up long enough to hear it."
"…right" Ichigo didn't look convinced but Renji glared at him and he decided it wasn't worth the fight.
"So," Renji began, after a somewhat lengthy pause. "about the other thing…"
"What other thing?" Ichigo asked warily. He could think of a couple of things, neither of which he really wanted to talk about.
"About you havin' a…" He gesture vaguely at the ground, looking uncomfortable.
"A Hollow?" Ichigo supplied with a sigh.
"Yeah." Renji was looking away now, tension radiating off of him.
"What about it?" Ichigo asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.
"I don't know. I mean, I heard Rukia mention it before but I guess I always thought it just stood for somethin'." He could hear Renji frowning, hear the hard edge in his voice. "Never stopped to think ya might actually mean it."
"I'm not sure Rukia does either," he admitted. "It's not like she's seen it, just heard me talk."
Renji seemed to consider it all for a moment. "What's it like?" he finally asked, with a hint of genuine curiosity.
Ichigo was caught off guard, he'd expected more hostility, or at least more suspicion. "It's sorta like having another Zangetsu, except he spends most of his time plotting ways to overpower me and turn me into his own personal slave. It's a pain in the ass, really." He shrugged, but added, "Sorta came to an agreement lately, though, so I can use his power better."
"Sounds screwed up," Renji noted, still tense, but not painfully so. "He sounded like a bit of an asshole."
Ichigo nodded in agreement before he really processed the words. His head snapped around. "Wait, he talked to you? I thought you just saw him for a second?"
"I did." Renji turned to look at him finally. "He sorta just appeared, called me a fuckin' dumbshit, and then disappeared again."
Ichigo stared at him incredulously and Renji stared back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Ichigo finally just shook his head and ran a hand over his face before asking the question that had plagued him since the whole thing came up. "Did you tell Soul Society?"
There was a long pause in which Renji seemed lost in thought. "Didn't seem like their business," he admitted finally
Ichigo felt the knot in his stomach loosen and he turned to find the older man watching him. "It doesn't freak you out?"
"Hell yeah it freaks me out," Renji exclaimed, before collecting himself and continuing more quietly. "Ain't the first shit you pulled that freaked me out, though. I ain't gonna turn on ya just 'cause you're more fucked up than I thought."
He slipped sideways a couple of inches until their shoulders touched, and Ichigo felt relief flood through him. "I figured with Aizen and the whole Arrancar thing that it just might be too much."
"Ya ain't an Arrancar, you're a Vizard," Renji stated matter-of-factly, watching Ichigo's eyes widen in shock. "Kuchiki-taichou was reading about them after you saved Rukia," he supplied.
The younger man winced, waiting for the inevitable connection, which wasn't long in coming. Renji drew in a sharp breath, "Kuchiki-taichou knows?"
"Yeah, sorta," he admitted. "He saw part of my mask, once."
"Mask?" Renji was starting to sound concerned again, but he didn't move away.
"It's a long story, might as well start from the beginning." Ichigo closed his eyes again, "I guess it all started when you and Byakuya took Rukia and tried to kill me."
He talked slowly, going through his ordeal with Urahara, the constant fights for dominance with the Hollow, and even his training with the Vizard. Renji interjected questions here and there, but for the most part just listened. By the time Ichigo reached his encounter with the latest Arrancar he was leaning heavily into Renji, the fatigue from his still healing body and constant state of worry finally catching up. The older man slipped an arm around him to keep him in place, but Ichigo didn't seem to notice. When he finally fell into silence Renji shifted him so that his head was in his lap, just like he had on the first night they'd talked. He idly ran his fingers through the unruly hair, staring out into the darkness lost in thought. It was a lot to take in.
Ichigo stirred slightly. "You're not afraid of me?" he murmured, his voice tired and young.
"Don't be a fuckin' idiot." Renji continued to stroke his hair. "Wouldn't have let you sleep in my bed if I was afraid of you."
"Oh." His voice was soft. He was still again, and Renji thought he was asleep until he muttered something so quietly that the older man couldn't make it out.
"What?" he leaned over, bringing them closer together.
"I'm sorry I licked you," Ichigo whispered, lips barely moving.
Renji eyed him appraisingly, one brow quirking upward. "Liar," he accused softly, straightening up to lean against the wall once again. "You sure as hell didn't meant to do it, but I ain't buyin' that you're sorry."
Ichigo made no further reply and Renji returned to his thoughts, though this time he had a whole new problem to throw into the mix. Honestly, he didn't know if it was really a problem, because everything was pretty unfocused at the moment. He was just lumping it in as a precautionary move, because he liked to play the odds, and the odds generally leaned towards trouble. He sighed; fuck life and its fucking complicated shit.