Mina, having only had a small reserve of energy to accommodate whatever was taking control of her, collapsed a few yards behind her father's house. A few minutes later, she emerged from her blackout only enough to appreciate how the breeze felt on her dirty face and how comfortable the gravelly ground beneath her was after she'd pulled a few jagged stones that were jabbing into her side out from underneath her and tossing them into the thick foliage in front of her before falling asleep right where she lay.

Meanwhile, Ikkaku and Yumichika were busy relaxing in what they'd observed was a house that'd been abandoned for quite some time. Yumichika indulged himself to the futon in the other room while Ikkaku ran a finger over the grey entrance shōji panel to reveal the light yellow paper underneath caked dust. He flicked the dust off of his fingers and plunked himself down on a pillow, which released a cloud on impact. Ikkaku, squinting, gently waved the particles away from his eyes. A film had formed over the top of Yumichika's unfinished tea.

It had only been a week and a half since the fight with Zaraki. Ikkaku's entire world had been thrown upside down and curb stomped. He'd lost. He thought he deserved to die. He did deserve to die. In that moment he knew the fight was over, he'd never craved death so much before in his life. Before the fight, he was starting to settle into his life as a vagabond with an unquenchable thirst for violence. He was starting to get bored with it even. More and more fights under his belt, more skills and strength acquired, less opponents who could really give him even the slightest thrill he'd gotten from his very first fight. He was starting to think there was no one left in Rukongai who could take him on.

Ikkaku tipped his head back against the wall and watched the dust glitter in the dusky orange last hour of daylight. He never thought he'd stumble on someone like Kenpachi Zaraki the way he did. He thought he'd be more prepared. He wasn't ready to have everything he thought he knew and everything he thought he was completely crushed by the swing of a sword.

Startled, he grabbed his sword as he heard the door next to him open. What walked in looked like an animated corpse. The girl was pale, dirt and tiny rocks clung to blood she'd wiped on her face. Her hands were curled up at her sides in a strange, unnatural position. Her wounded palms her clearly bothering her.

"Hey," he called out softly. She looked over at him and the skin around her eyes was grey. He figured she was hungry and tired, and the blood loss, while not being enough to do any longterm damage, had taken a toll. "Will you let me take a look at your hands?"

She walked over him and sunk down to the right of him on the hard floor, acutely aware of the possible danger of sitting with her back against the entrance door. She opened her hands as wide as she could without opening the wound and inviting in an avalanche of little pebbles. Ikkaku put his hand on her wrists and tipped each one down so he could get a better look.

He got up and rummaged around the kitchen for some cloth, which he then dipped into the kettle of now lukewarm tea water. He sat down next to her and took her hand gingerly, dabbing the cloth across her wound.

If she were in a better state she'd be pretty psyched that some ripped guy from Rukongai was taking care of her, but all she could process were her immediate surroundings and base instincts. Her palms stung and she was tired. Ikkaku's hands were coarse and strong. His nails were bitten up and the top edges were black. Little lines of veins dotted the back of his hand and then crawled up his arms. She could see every little mechanism involved in making his teeth clench; the muscles in his jaw to the slight movements of his temple every time he pushed his teeth together.

And his eyes. The little red tattoos at the outer corners of his eyes. It looked like geisha makeup, and they hadn't smudged a bit. She reached her freshly cleaned hand out, while he dabbed at her other one, to run a thumb over the corner of his eye.

He looked up at her patiently, then back at her palms. "They're tattoos." He leaned toward her and reached for his sword behind her. She blushed and leaned back a little bit, pointedly looking toward the ceiling. When he pulled back, she watched and as he used the edge of his thumbnail to pop open a little lid hinged to the very bottom of his swords hilt, revealing a small tub of some kind of ointment. He picked up a small amount with his forefinger and dragged it across her palm making her gasp in pain at the direct pressure to the most tender part of her wound, but the pain receded as soon as the pressure did.

"Why did you get those tattoos?" She asked while he dragged his ointment covered finger over her other palm to distract herself from the pinch of pain.

"I thought they looked tough." He smiled a let out a small laugh, "not much I can do about 'em now." He looked up at her and she was staring at his eyes. She looked from his tattoos, right into his eyes.

"Thank you." she said earnestly. He looked away quickly and started ripping up part of the clean part of the cloth he used to clean her hands and wrapped them around her palms.

He looked back up at her and smiled.

"You're welcome."

Ikkaku suddenly grabbed his sword and threw open the shōji. Mina, inside, could hear grunts, the slick whip of swords and the curt ching sound of two swords hitting each other. After recovering from the initial shock, Mina slowly lifted herself off the ground and crept back toward the bedroom, which was dark and empty. She was startled by the sound of something heavy hit the back wall of the house. She sat down with her back against the wall of the house connected to the kitchen and pulled her kaiken out, gripping it firmly in front of her. She heard someone run frantically in the direction of the bedroom, at the same time a man with wild hair and a wild expression burst through the backdoor, making a bee line toward her and raising his sword up to stab her. She slipped narrowly out of the way of his stab and jumped onto the futon. In through the door, fast as lightening was Ikkaku, with an even wilder expression, eyes wide and teeth bared. Even faster was his sword. Mina pushed her palms against her ears, closed her eyes tight and jumped off the other side of the bed.

She stayed like this for a good 10 minutes until she felt things had calmed down. She opened her eyes and, very cautiously, released her ears from the pressure of her hands. No voices, no swords. She tiptoed toward the door, looking toward the right of her where the back door had failed to do it's fucking job, and toward the front. Both were open, and she made her to close the back door and lock it tight before turning her back on it to make her way to the kitchen.

"Piece of cake," Ikkaku said, scowling. "None of those guys were even remotely tough."

Mina sat down on the other side of Ikkaku, the same way they were before, Yumichika on the opposite side.

"Looks like you have a new pet," Yumichika huffed out a mean little laugh.

Ikkaku looked over at Mina for a moment, rolled his eyes and pouted back at the wall. "Yeah. Great."

Ok, now she was hurt. She raised her eyebrows and put her thumbnail to her mouth to munch on.

She pulled her thumb away from her mouth, "Wait, what just happened?"

"Ambush," both Yumichika and Ikkaku replied flatly.

"Oh…" She lifted her thumb back up to her mouth.

Ikkaku suddenly turned to Mina, "You have no idea how to fight, do you?"

She felt a little threatened by his accusatory tone, and anticipating a big fat lecture, generously topped with 'What the hell are you doing out here?!', she looked at the floor and replied weakly, "Well, I mean… I just–"

"Lemme teach you."

Yumichika let out a very incredulous "What?!"

Mina looked over at Ikkaku, eyes lit up. "Okay!"