Well I'm back!! Oh it feels SO good to be writing again. Away with exams!! Whoo!! They were very good with only a few horrible ones (curse you Physics, yeah I'm talking to you...)
Firstly: Please don't kill me when you begin this chapter. I might as well spoil it for you and tell you...uh...maybe I shouldn't. But after such a long wait, I can still only continue with the time table for this story (Yeah, I have an event time table for it. Too nerdish? LOL)
And secondly, thank you for everyone who sent me Good luck emails. What would I do without you? I love you guys.
Finally thanks to all who reveiwed (you guys are so encouraging. Love you. I would hand you all trophies...if I had any money.)
Anyway, without much ado. I'll open the door, letting you in.
Here's When Winter Casts A Spell: Chapter 7. Enjoy.
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7
The video frame wobbled, out of focus, and then unexpectedly sharpened again. It shuddered recurringly, then hobbled over the sidewalk, across the street, determinedly forcing its way through the gathering crowd. The camera man was obviously an amateur.
In spite of the grain and occasional blurs, any viewer could make out the dramatic scene; an orange haired man propping up a raven-haired woman in front of a shop with a thoroughly shattered window. A taxi sat awkwardly close by.
In the video, the orange-haired man was shouting something. A short guy with a mustache got out of the driver's seat of the taxi, and exchanged a few words with carrottop. Apparently, they were the wrong words. Because the next thing carrottop did, was to connect his knuckles with the drivers' jaw.
It looked painful.
Ichigo watched the video, nursing a bruise he could see himself receiving right that moment on the internet. Fucking Youtube. He watched people breakaway from the crowd and try to hold him back. They failed (specifically because the driver spat something insolent again). As the Ichigo in the video slammed the driver against the side of his cab, the real Ichigo couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt, especially because Rukia, as it had eventually turned out, had been perfectly fine.
As the story went, the taxi had lost some control over the slippery street and veered off it unto the sidewalk. Rukia, who had just happened to be in its path at that exact moment on the sidewalk, had gasped, squealed, attempted to avoid the out-of-control cab, and slipped, landing heavily on her back. The taxi had missed her narrowly and crashed into the display window.
Somehow the taxi driver had felt this was all Rukia's fault. Jackass.
But none of these was Ichigo's reason for visiting . Ichigo's reason came up in the next moment: a man in a grey jacket hurried into the video frame, and...get this...with one hand pulled Ichigo back before Ichigo could fist his victim again. And then with both arms, the man held Ichigo back. Ichigo twisted and writhed but the man was obviously managing to do what five or so men had failed to do.
The man had blue hair.
"Matt..." Ichigo muttered. Earlier in the day, when this all this had been going on, Ichigo had hardly been paying attention. Now he was home, with his mind on its proper plane, he could see the absurdity in Matt being able pull him away. Heck, he could usually see the absurdity in anyone being able to pull him away. And now, here came along Matt.
Ichigo leaned closer to the screen and watched Matt hold him back again. A click of the mouse, and Matt was doing it again... and again, and again, and again...
"Who are you, Matt Peterson?" Ichigo muttered to himself, and sat back in his chair, frowning.
...again, and again, Matt held him back again...
000
The crunch of grass behind her was distant but audible. He was here.
She could smell his perfume. It was the musky kind; rough but kind on the senses. She was well used to it. Well used to it, not resistant to it. Even now, it made her feel a cocktail of emotions: sadness, joy...an inexplicable impulse to rush up and throw her arms around him and stay there. She wanted so badly to lie to herself that they had gone wrong nowhere. That they were and had always been meant for each other. She wanted this. Would he tell her this? Would Kurosaki Ichigo end the nightmare and simply tell her this...?
Inoue stood and turned to face him, her heart pounding. But one look at Ichigo's face and...
"I'm sorry." he uttered pathetically.
...Inoue would cry for hours...
Her eyes flashed open. The glare of the clock on the side dresser met her, blinking 12:07 am. She rose from the sheets, her skin moist with perspiration. She sighed and left her bed, making for the tiny refrigerator in the hotel room. A gentle hum and a soft yellow light escaped the refrigerator for the brief moment it was opened. Then they were gone and Inoue held in her hand a half empty bottle of red wine. She snatched a goblet off the top of the icebox, and poured herself a full glass. Then she downed it. The speed with which she did it was a personal record.
She panted for breath after the drink and shut her eyes hard, as if expecting to feel the alcohol's sedative effects immediately. And then when she didn't, she emptied out the bottle, till her glass was brimming. She turned around...and for the first time, noticed that her bed was completely empty.
Matt was not where he should've been.
Inoue stared at the empty spot on the bed; a hollow mountain of sheets that vaguely resembled Mount Rushmore in the shadowy darkness, and didn't know what to do.
Her eyes moved to stare at the slightly open balcony door and slowly she made for it. With a soft click, she closed it because it was cold outside, then she sat on the bed and wondered briefly where her fiance was. And then she wondered, for a longer period this time, what on Earth she was doing in Japan.
It wasn't as if she had run only to escape the annual Christmas party, though she was relieved not to be going that year. Office parties were horrible. It wasn't that Marble Company had jackass employees. On a scale of 1 to 10, they scored an average of 8. However for some reason, you pulled them under the same roof for a party and it was pandemonium in a hat. Perhaps there was some ancient curse? Some historic bane? Whatever.
Inoue felt the empty place where Matt's body should have lay, and to her utter surprise, realized she missed him. She wanted him there with her. Where was he anyway?
She stood, beginning to worry properly for the first time. Initially, she had expected that he had probably gone downstairs to the bar. But now that she thought about it, it seemed unlikely. Unlikely because, well, the door was still locked from the inside.
And then it hit Inoue: the balcony door had been open. Inoue blinked into the partial darkness. Surely Matt hadn't been that desperate to get out of the room.
The frigid night greeted Inoue as she stepped unto the balcony. She half-expected to find Matt somewhere here, sprawled out in a balcony chair, drawing toxic breaths from a cigarette; a habit he was supposed to have abandoned years ago but kept backsliding into every now and again. But the balcony was empty.
In the distance, she could just make out the sound of the occasional car. The sea of lights was like a hypnotic tool, drawing Inoue closer and closer to its brilliant array, till she was pressing against the balcony rails, her hands gripping the support with white-knuckle firmness. And that was when she knew that it wasn't the lights. This was something else.
Mentally, she reached into the darkness and the lights. She reached deeper, a little cautious at first. Then she reached further, then further...
The feeling shot through her heart, trickling through her innards. She gripped the rails harder to stop her knees from buckling. This was nothing like she had felt in years. It felt dead, angry, vaguely familiar...
She returned to her room. She sat on her bed. She wondered where Matt was.
000
Ichigo turned in the sofa. He had been falling in and out of sleep for hours, never really slipping away for more than ten minutes at a time. He was exhausted and every temporary loss of consciousness was a blessing.
Click.
Ichigo moved sleepily, assuming a more comfortable posture.
Click.
His breathing was shallow, and he felt sleep overtake him...
Click.
....
CRACK!
Ichigo sat up. Nonchalantly, he looked towards the sliding-windows. On the glass window, an intricate design, much like that of a spiderweb, was visible. A crack.
"Oh..." Ichigo sighed, hanging his head and trembling briefly from frustration, too devoid of energy to even let out a swear word. For the umpteenth time that month, he forced himself out of the toasty comfort of his blanket. Like a zombie, he dragged his feet as he approached his window. Why was he not surprised? He was finally sleeping well for the first time that vacation. It only made sense for it to be interrupted with, what were those...were those rocks?
Ichigo stood at the window, staring numbly at the pieces of grey asphalt that sat on its ledge. Then he leaned in over the edge of the frame and looked down into the street. At first, he could hardly make out the wavy mess of blond hair bobbing up and down in the darkness. Then he did. Wait...the hair was shouting something:
"...rry. I said I'm sorry!" the hair was saying. Oh, the voice belonged to a boy! A teenager. About 17. Double Oh, the voice was in English. "I love you. What can I do to prove it?" The accent was British.
Ichigo interrupted the boy, "Umm...yeah, excuse me. I was just wondering, you know, what the FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!"
The boy stared up at him, bewildered. "Hey, you're not my not girlfriend."
Ichigo almost toppled over the freaking frame. This kid was clearly a master of the obvious. "Are you insane?! It's 1 am!!! I could call the cops or I could come down there and, in my cotton socks, kick the crap out of you. Your choice."
"Sorry. My girlfriend's supposed to live here."
"Well obviously she doesn't." Ichigo wasn't proud of being so rude but, God, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown here. He needed some sleep! "Besides, there are a dozen other apartments in this building."
"No, I'm sure its this flat." the boy said firmly.
"Well I'm sure its not." Ichigo insisted, annoyed.
"Oh I'm sure it is." the boy was firmer.
Ichigo wanted to pick up a piece of asphalt and fling it at him. 'Clear blue skies, clear blue skies, clear blue skies...'
"Look, I'm going to let my broken window slide." Ichigo tried to reason with him, "All you have to do, is...are you listening?...go...away!"
"She's in there isn't she?" the boy said, his voice trembling with suspicions of malice. "You're hiding her, aren't you?!"
Ichigo could only gape. This had to be some kind of prank. Maybe he was being Punk'd.
The boy begun to yell, "Baby, come out! I know you're in there! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!! WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"
Ichigo slapped his forehead. He was going to hear from the neighbours tomorrow. "That's it." Ichigo muttered to himself. "I'm calling the cops." But just as he turned, he heard something that froze him in his tracks. First he heard the sliding of a window. Then he heard his sister's voice from upstairs...from his room! Or rather, Matsumoto's room.
"Oliver?"
"Yuzu." the boy called back.
Ichigo's jaw dropped slightly. Okay Ashton Kutcher, anytime now... And what was Yuzu doing here anyway? She was supposed to be at Isshin's.
"Oliver what're you doing here? Does your dad know you're here?"
"Screw my dad. I came to see you."
"What if I don't want to see you?"
"Come'on. Can I at least come in? It's cold out here."
But Yuzu's voice was colder. "Should have thought of that before waking the entire neighbourhood at 2 am!"
'-1- am', Ichigo corrected mentally, hearing Yuzu's window slide shut with a ferocity thatwould have his hundred dollar framework crying for mercy.
"Yuzu! Yuzu!! YUZU!!!"
The sound of a sliding window came again. "Go away Oliver."
Ichigo raised his eyebrows. He'd never heard Yuzu this way. Then it dawned on Ichigo; the boy, the accent, the emo-scene. Oliver Whalley-Kilmer, Yuzu's boyfriend!
Immediately, Ichigo was at the window again facing, this time, his sister who was above, her upper torso sticking out of the open window of his room. She was in pink and her hair had been carefully tied up in a net. She did not look happy.
"Yuzu..." Ichigo interrupted.
Yuzu's head whipped in Ichigo's direction, and the expression that took over clearly told Ichigo that she was positively mortified her big brother had witnessed her harsh conduct. Obviously, she was not aware that her boyfriend had initially been chucking pebbles at the wrong window.
"Yuzu, let him come in." Ichigo ordered softly.
"Of...of course Nii-san." Yuzu stammered. "I wouldn't really have let him stay out there." And she disappeared from the window.
"What's going on?" Oliver asked. He knew not a shred of Japanese.
Ichigo regarded the boy with some interest. Then he said, "You're not going to die."
The boy looked relieved.
"Yet." Ichigo added. Then he re-entered his house.
000
Ichigo watched as his sister poured out three cups of tea. The room was drowning in the most excruciating kind of silence, and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder the story behind it. Ichigo stared at the stranger in his living room, then eventually, at his sister. Her expression was slightly doleful and Ichigo watched, mildly amused, as she handed her boyfriend his tea without according him any eye contact whatsoever.
"Well then..." Ichigo was the first to speak, but also the first to suddenly rise out of his chair. "Guess I'll leave you two to sort things out."
"Nii-san, please stay." Yuzu said softly.
"Yuzu, this is your business, not mine."
"I don't want to be alone with him. Please."
"Excuse me?" Oliver interrupted.
"What?" Ichigo asked, in English.
"He can't speak Japanese." Yuzu explained.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "He schools in Tokyo with you but can't speak any Japanese?"
Yuzu shrugged.
''Okay I'll stay, but the second anything gets too emotional, I'm back in bed. Believe me I'm looking for any excuse."
Yuzu nodded but even as she did, Ichigo knew he was kidding himself. This was going to be a non-stop train to emo-ville. Regardless, Ichigo took a seat.
Almost immediately, the silence descended upon the room again. Yuzu took a seat. And the silence continued. The two teenagers only stared into their tea, avoiding Ichigo's eyes and much less their own.
"Okay." Ichigo ventured after a sip of tea. "Who wants to go first?"
Their speech burst might as well been a broken dam. The teenagers riddled Ichigo with bullet-quick complaints about who did what, and what was done when, and anyway the other was wrong and either way they were right, and by the way this was all very unfair and...
"Woah, woah, woah...take it easy!" Ichigo began, but obviously they were on a different plane now, with Yuzu and Oliver now facing each other, blasting off accusations.
"Are you kidding me?" Ichigo muttered to himself as the arguement grew steadily louder.
All of a sudden, a very shrill whistle pierced through the noise, bringing it to a sudden halt. The three turned to see Tatsuki entering the room, a tiny (but obviously effective) silver whistle in her hand. She frowned, threw each of them a dirty glare, then said "Oh, this had better be good."
Silence.
The arguement resumed.
Tatsuki's eyebrows raised at how swiftly her presence had been disregarded.
"Tatsuki help me out here." was all Ichigo said.
"What's going on?" Tatsuki mouthed over the noise, bewildered.
Ichigo only needed to utter one phrase: "Yuzu's boyfriend.", and Tatsuki had been updated.
"Oo-ooh!! Lovers' spat!" Tatsuki said, her spirits lifting and her eyes brightening. She took a seat and proceeded to observe the escalating quarrel. You would think it was a favourite show.
"What's Yuzu doing here anyway?" Ichigo wanted to know. Honestly, he would have been more amused to learn all this had happened over at the old house...you know, Isshin's house...where Ichigo didn't live... A story like this would have been great over a cup of coffee and some eggs in the morning. But at 1 am; abysmally poor timing.
"Matsumoto had her stay over for the night." Tatsuki explained. "Girl talk, I think."
Ichigo gritted his jaw. "Well, then, where is she? This is partly her fault."
But by then, Matsumoto was already waltzing into the room. "My fault? You should be thanking me!"
"For a migraine? Oh sure, you deserve a Nobel." Ichigo said, his sarcasm overt.
Matsumoto rested her hands on her pyjama draped hips. "I've provided dialogue. Oprah says, and I quote: Disputes in a relationship can only be solved by dialogue." Her English translation was shaky and forced.
"I don't give a rat's ass what Oprah says." Ichigo grumbled and Matsumoto gasped. Blasphemy! He continued, "I'm a doctor and I say if I don't get some sleep, I will go...insane!"
"Jerry Springer says the same thing!" Matsumoto argued.
"Screw Jerry Springer!" Ichigo grumbled more intensely and Matsumoto's hand flew to her chest. Sacrilege! He resumed. "Half his guests are paid. And stop watching my TV!!"
Tatsuki shushed them. "Wait, I think they're getting intelligible."
By them, Tatsuki was referring to the two teenagers, and sure enough, their arguement was gradually slowing to a discernible point, and soon Ichigo could make out what they were saying.
"You never gave me a chance to explain..." Oliver was saying.
"To explain what?" Yuzu said, rolling her eyes.
"To explain the situation."
"I have eyes. I saw what I saw, Oliver."
"That's the thing! You saw wrong! It's complicated."
Yuzu laughed. "Yeah, that must have been really complicated. Just for future reference, may I know which part of it was so complicated? Was that calculus or trignometry you were doing when her lips were all over yours like a short-circuiting hoover?"
"Oh." Tatsuki said, providing the complementary background groan, then tutted. "Boys. Jackasses, all of them." At this point, she gave Ichigo a disapproving look.
Ichigo ignored her.
"It was supposed to be a rehearsal for the Christmas play, Yuzu." Oliver sighed.
"Rehearsals are held in your room now?" Yuzu uttered dully, crossing her arms. "The school must be saving bundles on that."
"Will you stop it with the sarcasm??" Oliver looked like he would be proceeding to yank out tufts of his own hair any moment soon.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You have a receipt?"
Oliver was on the verge of self-destruction. "What receipt?!"
"The receipt that says you bought me, own me, and can order me to- I quote- stop it with the sarcasm ?"
"She's bonkers!" Oliver announced, completely befuddled by his girlfriend's attitude, and it was a moment before Ichigo discovered that that particular comment had been directed at him.
Ichigo shrugged.
"Ever since she figured out how sarcasm works, she's been out of her mind with it!" Oliver complained, still talking to Ichigo. "She gets mad, and 78.5% of her sentences are dripping with the infuriating stuff."
Tatsuki smiled. "Meet the teenage girl, Oliver."
But Oliver had lost his temper by now and he sputtered. "Well, I want to meet a new one."
Deadly silence tagged after his statement, and Oliver's utterance caught up with his common sense.
He sighed, "Yuzu, I didn't mean..."
But the teenage girl was already on her feet, "Good night Oliver." The conversation was over.
"Yuzu." Oliver called after the girl, rising to his feet, but Ichigo did the same and gently held him back with a hand. Oliver could only watch, forlorn, as his girlfriend exited the room with Matsumoto following closely behind.
Oliver sighed again and ran his fingers through his untidy blond hair. Another sigh, and his hands came down to his face, rubbing it down. His body language told of his utmost frustration.
"Well, that didn't end well." Tatsuki commented placidly. She had expected as much.
"Tell me about it." Ichigo added. Then to Oliver, he said "Do you need a place to spend the night?"
Oliver smiled sadly and said "Don't worry. My flight back home is at 7 am. I can just go to the airport. I might as well. Nothing's keeping me in this town anyway." The last statement was soaked in bitterness.
"I'll give you a ride." Ichigo offered, bearing in mind that this was the second time this cursed holiday he would be driving at an unholy hour.
Oliver looked grateful. "Thank you."
"Yeah..." Tatsuki said, rising and yawning, "A ride with you two at 1 am in minus god-knows-how-many degrees weather. As thrilling as that sounds- yay, road trip- I think I'll pass. See you when the sun wakes Ichigo. Nice meeting you, Oliver."
Oliver mumbled something in return, and began towards the front door. When he was out of earshot, Tatsuki teased Ichigo with a quick "Well what do you know. Guess you're not the world's greatest idiot after all."
Ichigo smiled. But just before he left, he whispered something in Tatsuki's ear. Then he turned away and followed after Oliver, ignoring his car keys on a shelf.
000
"You know, you don't have to wait with me. You can just go home Mr. Kurosaki."
Ichigo winced at the use of 'Mister'. "Call me Ichigo...please." he corrected, not even wanting to go into the whole business of Japanese titles such a '-sama' and whatnot. This kid was suffering from cultural oblivion; schooling in Japan and he knew squat japanese. "And anyway I'm not staying till your flight gets here..." Ichigo said. "I just want to make sure you're safe."...and that you'll not be coming back to my house any time the rest of this year...
"By the way..." Oliver said, "When you said you would give me a ride, I didn't think you meant you would take a taxi with me."
"24-hour cab services." Ichigo said. "Love them."
The two were at the airport, in seats so cold and uncomfortable Ichigo was seriously considering suing. You had to have on a triple layered, lining padded, insulated arse to find the seats even remotely accommodating.
"Tell me something." Ichigo said, his voice small in the midst of distant beeps and incoherent PA system. "Did you really cheat on my sister?"
Oliver said nothing for a while, allowing the PA to announce the departure of an italian airline. Then he answered "Yes....and no...."
Oliver didn't notice Ichigo's left fist ball up.
"I didn't mean to do it..." the teenager continued. "It just happened. One minute I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past, the next minute, she's all over me like...uh...what were Yuzu's words...?"
"Short-circuiting hoover?"
"Bingo. Though that was probably an understatement." Oliver said glumly. "Hoovers can't rip off your shirt." He threw his hands up in the air. "She jumped me, I swear. I was trying to let her off easy but it was like I was speaking another language!" He sighed. "And then that's when Yuzu walked in on us. I swear I literally heard her heart break."
"I guess you can't blame her for the way she's treating you then."
"I guess not." Oliver admitted. Then he stood, his head hanging. "And now I have to go back to my dad who's going to rip my head off for pulling this stunt." He paused. "Can I tell you something?"
"Spill it."
Oliver hesitated. Then he reached into his jacket pocket. Slowly he pulled out something wrapped in a badly creased handkerchief. He handed it to Ichigo.
Ichigo stared at the large ball of cloth in his hand.
"Go on." Oliver coaxed with a gentle nod.
So Ichigo parted the mess of cloth...and blinked when he saw its content. It was a tiny blue suede case. And inside it...
"You're shitting me." Ichigo breathed.
...was a ring, upon which sat a reasonably sized diamond. It sparkled at Ichigo.
"Pretty huh?" Oliver said with a small laugh. "Cost me half my life savings."
Ichigo was at a loss for words. Then finally he blurted "You're just in high school!"
Oliver shrugged and confessed, "I'm rich.", as if he was apologizing for this bit of news.
"No! That's not what I meant." Ichigo said, still unable to take his eyes of the ring. "I mean, you're just in high school, you're too young!!"
"I admit, it's a bit desperate."
"A bit??"
"Don't worry I'm not going to propse to your sister." Oliver assured Ichigo. "Well, I was going to in your hall, just so she'd see how serious I was about wanting to be with her. But I don't think the memory that I proposed to her right on the verge of being called a dickhead..."
"She called you a dickhead?"
"No, but I could tell she wanted to." Oliver said. "Anway, that's not the kind of memory either of one would want to have, so..."
Ichigo was speechless for a minute. Then he cleared his throat and said "Don't propose to her."
"I just said I wasn't going to."
"Just don't."
Oliver shrugged. "It's not like she's going to follow me here or anything."
"Oliver..." Ichigo took a deep breath. "...just don't. Okay? You've got your whole life ahead of you. In a couple more years, when you're making your own money, have got your own house and are still a hundred percent sure you want to marry my sister...hey, I won't stop you." Ichigo looked the boy in the eye. "But for now, take a breather. Finish high school. Plan your life."
Oliver nodded slowly, then pulled his eyes away from Ichigo's. "Wow...it's like you're my brother-in-law already."
A vein popped to visibility on Ichigo's temple. Ichigo's voice was strained when he muttered a "...yeah...sure..."
Ichigo's phone buzzed softly.
"I can't believe this entire week's ended this way." Oliver muttered, as Ichigo picked out his cell.
"You've been here for a week?" Ichigo muttered back, flipping open his phone.
"You weren't as easy to find as I'd hoped." Oliver said. "And now that I finally found you, look what a crap job I've made of the entire thing." He paused. "I didn't even get to say good bye to Yuzu."
Ichigo smiled at the message he was reading on the screen of the device. "Well...here's your chance."
Oliver looked confused. Then his face lit with hope. A hope that told Ichigo that he had realized full well what was going on, but that he was far too afraid to hold on to that hope...
Ichigo made it easier. "Turn around."
So he did.
Near the entrance, a girl stood waiting with Tatsuki. Waiting for Oliver.
It was Yuzu.
Oliver smiled...then grinned. He turned to Ichigo. "So that's why we took a taxi."
Ichigo smiled back. "Hey, they were going to need the car."
Oliver looked humbled. "Thank you." he finally whispered.
"What the heck are you waiting for?" Ichigo said. "Go get her."
Oliver nodded. And then he started towards the girl he was in love with. She was running to meet him...
000
The ember speck glowed dully in the darkness. Then it glowed brighter. Then it dulled.
Smoke.
The ember speck belonged to the end of a man's cigarette. The man had been sitting atop the roof of the Princess Hotel for hours now. He had been sitting and smoking and waiting. Waiting to feel 'it' again. The aura he had felt in bed. It was evil. It was wrong. Just wong...just wrong...
He smoked and he waited.
The feeling did not return. And when he was tired of smoking and waiting, he crushed the lighted end of his cigarette between his fingers. Then he stood, and moonlight fell on him.
The man had blue hair.
000
During just about the same period of time, Ichigo stepped out of the airport into the night. And the second he did, he felt 'it' too; the darkness, the coldness... It washed over him like rain. It had his hairs standing on end.
"What?" Tatsuki noticed her friend's hesitance.
Ichigo hesitated once more. Then "Nothing."
Tatsuki looked skeptical.
"It was nothing." Ichigo reassured her, faking a smile with every ounce of strength he could summon.
But it wasn't nothing. He felt it, and he knew it was wrong.
He knew it was wrong...
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Sorry but there does seem to be a deep need within my soul to screw over my audience. However I swear to all of you (no, seriously...), Ichigo and Inoue WILL have a real and proper conversation in the next chapter (with hardly any arguements). Anyway I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. You probably won't have to wait too long for the next chapter.
Please review on your way out. Please correct me if there're any mistakes. Please let me know your opinions on anything.
Thank you so much. LOVE Y'ALL!
Peace! I'm out!