I do not own Bleach.


The snow felt like a blanket over his senses; his eyes, his ears, his feet softly crunching on the white carpet beneath him, everything a blinding pure white. Nel trudged beside him, her arm linked with his. Neither of them mentioned the awkward goodbye between him and Renji, but Ichigo didn't know if Nel had even noticed it or not. He felt so calm like this, snowflakes flurrying down from the sky, sounds muffled, the light muted and soothing. He just wanted to keep walking. The alcohol made him feel lighter, less troubled. Even the situation with Senna and their – no, not their, her – baby seemed distant, as if it had happened to someone else.

Ichigo still couldn't quite believe what had happened to him. He supposed it was his own fault, he had been too faraway, too preoccupied, he had taken her for granted. He knew she had loved him dearly and he had loved her, but not quite enough, and he hated himself for it. Arriving in a new country all those years ago, feeling like he was living in a black hole, he had clung to someone who had reminded him of home even though home was what he had been running away from.

And here he was again, running away. From Senna, the memories of her, what they'd had together.

Why had he ever asked her to marry him? The moment the words had left his lips he knew he had been making a mistake. He had been in love with a dead man. He still was.

Ichigo didn't realize he was crying until Nel cried out and threw her arms around him. He made no sound as she dragged him into her apartment, unwrapping him from his package of scarf and hat and gloves and thick winter coat as soon as he stepped inside, all the while clucking over him like a mother hen.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice thick, not bothering to wipe the tears away. "I guess I cry when I'm drunk, huh. There's always that one person."

"Oh, Ichigo..."

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you for so long. But I didn't really talk to anyone." A pause. "Did you know I was engaged?"

She said nothing, leading him by the hand to her living room and plopping him down on her couch. She made him tea and wrapped him in blankets, placing a box of tissues beside him. Ichigo didn't really know if he was crying or not – there was no active effort, tears just seemed to be dribbling out of his eyes of their own accord.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to." Nel was beside him, stroking his hair. Even at her most childish she had seemed wise beyond her years when he'd known her in high school and here, now, again he saw it in her eyes: a deep, understanding sadness. She had loved Grimmjow too, after all.

But Ichigo wasn't crying for him.

He tried smiling and he knew it came out broken and crooked, flattened into a grimace before he could even finish it. He had told her everything about his family, what he knew of their friends in common, what had happened in the intervening years since their last meeting but he had mentioned almost nothing of himself.

"I never said to you what happened to me after graduation, did I? Well, here's the short version: my life fell apart but a friend managed to get me a job in England and I moved there for a while. I met a Japanese girl who fell for me and I thought I'd fallen for her, but I hadn't really. Look." Without warning he unbuttoned his shirt and showed her the tattoo. She looked at it, gaze blank, then at his eyes.

"Years ago, me and him were talking about what animals we would be," Ichigo said quietly. "I saw this design somewhere and changed it a little. I added the eyes. Senna – that was her name – she hated it. She knew about Grimmjow. She knew this was for him. Somewhere along the way, I blew her off for some stupid reason and she ended up sleeping with someone else and getting pregnant. I asked her to marry me, she told me she was pregnant and that I wasn't the father and here I am, running away again. Like I always do."

His smile this time was genuine but Nel looked devastated. She didn't seem to know what to say.

"I talked to my boss," Ichigo continued. "He said I was protecting myself. But I can't keep doing that. I keep hurting people, and failing them, and I need to stop. I think this is the only way."

"What is?" she whispered.

Ichigo looked her square in the eyes. "I need to see his grave. I need to say goodbye. And I need to move on."

At that, she started crying too. Her tears put his to shame. Her whole body racked with sobs, her nose ran, she covered her face with her hands and wailed. Ichigo didn't think; he just circled her with his arms and pulled her close. Japanese people weren't particularly touchy-feely, and neither were the English, but his mother and sisters had taught him the healing power of touch long ago and as he held her he could slowly feel Nel's wheezing sobs subside into hiccups. He rocked her back and forth. His tears slid down his cheeks into her hair. He still felt numb inside.

What is wrong with me? he wondered. Am I still broken? Did he break me? Grimmjow, even when you're dead you can't stop being an asshole.

The thought made his face crumple.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Nel gave a hiccuping laugh, pulling back to wipe at her eyes, and then his. "You didn't make me cry, silly. I wanted to cry. I've been wanting to cry ever since I saw you today."


"Itsygo!"

Her voice sounded the same. Ichigo turned, heart in his throat – finally! He had been waiting in this godforsaken cafeteria for far too long now, having bought nothing but a bottle of water. One of the chefs behind the counter was staring at him; maybe he was meant to buy something more? Maybe it was for employees only? But Nel had asked him to wait here, so he had.

And she had arrived. She was waving at him, pushing through a sparse crowd, making straight for him. As soon as Ichigo saw her he felt his heart swell: the same hair, the same smile, the same kind eyes. It could have been five years, or it could have been five days; the way she ran up to him and hugged him tight hadn't changed in the slightest. Hugging anyone else apart from his sisters had always felt awkward. He never hugged Tatsuki or Orihime or Rukia, or any of his male friends. However, from the moment he had met Nelliel Tu Odelschwank, she had never shied away from launching herself into his arms like a child whenever she felt like it, and it was the main reason almost everyone in high school thought they were a couple.

Ichigo had felt nervous. What if she didn't recognize him? It was unlikely, thanks to his hair...but what if she decided that no, he had been an asshole, disappearing without a trace, she owed nothing to him, there was no reason to turn up – what if he was left there the rest of the night, alone with his lukewarm bottled water, waiting?

But as soon as he saw her, he knew he shouldn't have worried. Nel's hug felt the same. Her arms felt like steel cables. Ichigo had always known she was deceptively strong, strong enough to beat almost everyone he knew in a fight, and now he felt his ribs might fracture. He hugged her back, squeezing tightly, and when she pulled back to look at him properly she kept wiping her eyes surreptitiously. The tip of her nose was red, and her eyes were shining.

"Ichigo, I can't believe it."

She pronounced his name properly. It shocked Ichigo into giving her a small smile.

"Hey, Nel. Long time no see."

Nel laughed and reached up to touch his hair. "Oh, your hair's gotten so long! It suits you! Did you get taller too? How's your family? How's everyone doing back in Karakura? I haven't really kept in touch with them, unfortunately..." She looked rueful for a second, wiping her eyes again, but it was almost instantly replaced by a giddy smile. "It's really been way too long. You look so handsome! You must have girls crawling all over you, huh!"

For some reason, the thought hurt.

"Oh...no, not really." He looked around, saw the place was almost deserted. The cook that had been staring at him had disappeared as well, which meant he wouldn't be getting any food. Not that he wanted to try ordering anything anyway, knowing exactly zero German. "Hey, let's go outside for a second. A lot's changed, you know...I, uh..."

She was staring at him curiously. Ichigo felt almost ashamed.

"I smoke now," he muttered, then added defensively. "Not as much as I used to, though! I'm trying to give up. But there's a lot to tell you, maybe here isn't the best place..."

"That's OK!" Another smile. Nel hooked onto his arm and started to lead him somewhere, head pressed against his shoulder. "Yes, we have a lot to catch up on! Where are you staying? A hotel? Oh no, that won't do, you can crash with me! Of course it's no problem Itsygo, don't be silly..."


That Nel from a few hours ago was the polar opposite of the girl who sat before him, hunched over and blowing her nose. He had never seen her like this. The box of tissues was almost empty. Ichigo waited silently until she was ready to talk, hands on his lap, watching the snow fall outside. Even this strange tilted emotional moment didn't feel strange or awkward; it was only natural that they would cry together, for everything they had lost.

"I needed that," Nel said finally, throwing another crumpled tissue into a growing pile and giving Ichigo a watery smile.

His frown softened. "Do you feel better?"

"I don't know. I don't know how I feel, whether I feel better or worse or nothing at all."

"I know what you mean." He couldn't have put it better himself.

A sigh. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You're not the only one who ran away."

"I was selfish. I should have been there for you, I know how much he meant to you."

"Ichigo, please! It's the same for me!" Nel grabbed his hands and squeezed them gently. "When you told me, I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what to do. I called his mother, I thought it was a joke but she..."

Here she faltered. Ichigo waited until she could continue, not letting go of her hands.

"She told me it was true." Nel closed her eyes tight, but tears still managed to leak from the corners. "And I...my first thought was, what an idiot! That crowd he ran around with, those gangster assholes, I knew it wouldn't end up well! I knew they would be the death of him!"

"They...who? What?" Ichigo blinked at her; he didn't understand. Too late, he remembered – Grimmjow and his underground criminal dealings, his hated boss, his hated colleagues. The way he would disappear, too often for Ichigo's comfort, for days on end at times, reappearing with injuries and muttered excuses. Towards the end that had been happening less and less and he had been comforted by Grimmjow's promises of a saner lifestyle, but too soon after that had come a disappearing act that lasted months and then-

"Nel, are you saying it was their fault?"

"Of course! That car accident – ha, 'accident'! I heard they ran him off the road. It was only a rumor but it makes sense. I believe it."

There was a ringing in his head that drowned out almost everything else. He had to struggle to breathe, suddenly. "I didn't...I didn't know that."

Nel shook her head insistently. "It's the only explanation. You remember when he went away for weeks? I'm sure it was for a court case."

Ichigo's mouth was dry. He had trouble swallowing. He forced himself to listen, to concentrate – how could he have not known this?

"What...what court case?"

"Against his boss – well, his former boss!" Her face lit up. "Wait, wait, there was something in the newspaper about this. I'll look for it. Stay here!"

She stood and ran out of the room. Ichigo was frozen in place, mind whirling with a million different thoughts. A court case – against Grimmjow's boss. Criminals who had run him off the road, the people who had killed him. He hadn't died – he had been killed.

Hadn't Hirako Shinji said it was an accident? Ichigo couldn't recall. He had tried hard to block out the events of that morning. He remembered trying to call Grimmjow dozens of times, had sprinted to his house only to remember it belonged to someone else, had run around in circles like a maddened, rabid dog, ending up in the same place where he started. Ichigo refused to believe in his death. He had waited days, weeks, to see that head of blue hair, those blue eyes, to see Grimmjow casually stroll through the front door and thunder up the stairs to Ichigo's room. Every moment was spent in exhausting anticipation. He had waited in his room constantly, convinced that his love would at any moment decide to come home (the Kurosaki house had been his home, far more than that giant empty echoing mansion) and if Ichigo knew that if he wasn't there, Grimmjow would leave again.

The only thing Ichigo could hear was the deafening beat of his heart in his head. His blood felt like it was being pounded through his veins by a hammer.

It made so much sense. Of course. Of course. Grimmjow hadn't died in an accident. He had been killed.

Nel burst through into the room, arms laden with files and papers. She kicked off the empty tissue box and various remote controls from the coffee table and dumped what was in her arms hastily. Notebooks and pieces of paper slid from the pile and she grabbed them, mumbling under her breath as she searched through the whole thing until she found was she was looking for.

"Aha!" A newspaper – it appeared to be recent, no more than a day or two old. She flipped through the pages, folded it in half and flattened it out in front of Ichigo, pointing at a name.

"Barragan Luisenbarn..." he said slowly, the foreign name tripping up his tongue. The rest of the article was a mystery to him: the entire thing was in German. He looked up at his companion, lost.

Nel saw his confusion and said, "I can't translate the whole thing, it's difficult. But he was found poisoned in his home, and it mentions that he used to work with Aizen Sousuke before the former's, uh...what does it say...'fall from power'? 'Fall from grace'? Anyway, Aizen Sousuke, that was Grimmjow's boss right? And it says here, five years ago, almost exactly when Grimmjow disappeared, Aizen was taken to court for...well, you'll see!" Again she searched, this time emerging with an entire scrapbook. She hauled it out and opened it, laying it with a thump on top of everything else.

Every page was crammed with cut out newspaper articles, most of them in Japanese. Ichigo's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

The Shining Light of Aizen Sousuke has been put out! Shocking new revelations!

Breaking news – exemplary businessman and entrepreneur Aizen Sousuke taken to court over charges of corruption, embezzlement, and drug trafficking!

Trial of the decade – accused Aizen Sousuke faced with damning evidence – how will the jury decide?

It was if a blinding light had been switched on in his head. Aizen. Aizen Sousuke – yes, that had been the name, the name he had heard in curses, decorated liberally by swear words almost every time it had been uttered, though he had never thought to actually remember it. Ichigo couldn't believe he had been so blind.

Thankfully, Nel had not been as stupid as he. There was so much. Pages and pages of newspaper cuttings, articles printed from the internet, ripped out from magazines. He didn't know where to start.

"Nel...what is this?" he breathed. "When did you...how...?"

She shrugged. "I remember Aizen's name being mentioned once or twice. And then I saw it on TV while the trial was happening, right when Grimmjow had disappeared and I thought, ah. I saw one article after the next and I just found myself collecting them...after that, I don't know. I guess it became kind of an obsession. I found everything I could and I, um, made this. Obviously Grimmjow was involved, obviously he was important during the trial – that's why he couldn't see or talk to anybody right? And then when the whole thing was finished Aizen was declared guilty, only he ended up escaping – and right after that, Grimmjow dies? It can't be a coincidence. It can't be."

He couldn't believe it. Ichigo was unable to tear his eyes from the pages, flicking through them on autopilot at first, then turning back to the beginning and poring over each article. They were arranged in chronological order, but the first few pages had nothing at all do to with Aizen, being concerned with the death of another man, someone called Inugumi Daichi.

The name rang a bell. Ichigo frowned, trying to dig in his memories for where he had heard it before. The man had some connection to Karakura, and Ichigo was sure he knew him somehow.

"Who's this?"

She peered over his shoulder. "Ah, him! OK, so this is a stretch but I think it's plausible – this man was head of a big security firm but he was also pretty shady, it was common knowledge he had connections with gangsters. I read about him and apparently he provided bodyguards, cameras and so on to the right people if they paid enough, but according to this bit here-" She stabbed the page they were reading with a finger, right in the middle of a large article whose page was yellowing at the corners, "he allegedly pissed off one of his customers really badly and he was found dead a few days later."

The bell became a siren. Memories, watery and faded with time, came back in frayed tatters.

Being cornered in an alley. A man with bad breath.

"The tape! Have you got it? Where is it?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that! You got it, right? You stole it from Boss Inugumi, that night months ago!"

A crowbar tapping against his knee. Blood everywhere. Grimmjow, grinning like a maniac.

Someone was choking Ichigo. "I'll snap his scrawny little neck in half! I'm not kidding, I'll do it!"

Mad blue eyes, white teeth shining like fangs.

Grimmjow had wielded that baseball bat with not a care for anyone's life except his own and Ichigo's.

"Found dead," Ichigo murmured, heart pounding. He was holding the book with white-knuckled hands. "That's...intense."

"Isn't it?" She sounded excited. "Like I said, it's a stretch but his company had pretty close ties to Aizen's – or at least, Aizen's old firm!"

"Old firm?" He was floundering, lost in Nel's vast knowledge. He hadn't had even the slightest inkling of what she was talking about and he cursed himself roundly. All of these years he had been moping and pining, while she had been gathering evidence, connecting the dots and painting a picture in which it seemed Grimmjow was only a small element. And yet, he was also the key to all of this, and Ichigo was seized by a sudden, violent hunger to know every detail.

"Nel, you have to tell me," he said to her urgently. "Go through it all with me. I need to know about this, everything about this...damn it, how could I have been so stupid? I should have seen this coming, I should have known!"

"Ichigo, don't. He wanted to protect you." Her voice was gentle, and when Ichigo looked into her eyes, all he saw was the deepest love. "He told me what you had done for him. How you saved him, even when he hated you and tried to make your life hell. You saved his life every day, over and over, just by existing. He didn't want you to get hurt. He didn't want you to know about any of this. Please don't blame him."

He didn't speak. He looked down, back at the black and white pages, a mass of script that blurred. He scrubbed his eyes harshly.

"I don't blame him. I loved him. I just want..."

There was a photo, in black and white, of a handsome man who might have been close to middle age – it was hard to tell. His hair was slicked back, with one lock curling over his forehead, and he was looking at the camera with dark, knowing eyes. Those eyes seared right through him. Ichigo had never seen this person before in his life, but he knew who it was.

The man who had killed Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

A pause, just an instant, in which all the broken pieces of his life locked together. For the first time in years, he felt whole. He saw that photo and he knew what he had to do.

"Yes?"

He looked at Nel, and she blinked in surprise at the expression on his face.

"I want to make sure he doesn't get away with this," he growled, feeling the embers of a long-extinguished fire come to life inside him, smoldering, flames licking at his insides. "This...Aizen Sousuke. You said he was still alive? That he might have killed Grimmjow? Well, then, I can't let him get away with that, can I?"

"It's just...well, it's just a rumor," she mumbled. It seemed the look in his eyes had taken her aback.

"But it isn't just a rumor, is it? What you said makes sense. And you have all of this," he waved a hand over the coffee table, over the piles of old newspapers and print-outs, "to prove it. You think he did it, don't you?"

"Well, he was found guilty of all of his crimes, so I don't see why murder would be so difficult for him."

"Nel, answer me. Do you think he killed Grimmjow?" he pressed her.

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Finally, "Yes. I think he did."

For a while, he was silent. Even as Nel continued to watch him with a somewhat concerned glint in her eyes, with every second conviction grew stronger and stronger, something ironclad that lent strength to his body where before there had been weakness, gave him clarity where before his mind had been muddied and confused; once again, Ichigo could see his path stretch out before him, but this time, there was only one option. He surveyed the mountain of paper before him. As far as he was concerned, it was more a mountain of gold waiting to be mined.

He nodded, once. It was decided.

"OK," he said.

"OK?" she repeated. "What's OK?"

"Like I said. He can't get away with this. Aizen Sousuke is still out there somewhere, even after everything that he did. Even after killing..." Ichigo paused. Why was it still so hard to say his name? "He killed him, Nel. Maybe he didn't shoot him directly in the face or stab him in the heart, but he probably gave an order or something right? That's what criminals like that do. But his hands are still dirty, and I'm not about to sit around anymore feeling sorry for myself, running away from all my problems when really I should be running at them."

Nel's eyes were wide with horror. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I need to," he said, shrugging, staring at the photo. It might have been a trick of the mind, it might have been the fact that he was still a little tipsy, but he thought could see a faint smirk curl the edge of Aizen's mouth. It fanned the flames of anger inside him.

"But first, I need to look at all of this."

"Ichigo, you can't! You're just one person, what are you going to do? What can you do?"

He caught her flailing hands and held him in his own gently, smiling at her with as much reassurance as he could. "Nel, don't worry. Please. I'll be honest, I have no idea what I'm going to do. But I'll come up with something. I always do, you know me."

None of her words, her concerns, her warnings could sway him. He listened patiently but they both knew that when Ichigo resolved to do something, nothing could stop him, come hell or high water. He had endured his broken heart, had suffered almost every day, and now he knew the only thing that could stop the pain was to take it and wrestle it into submission, mold it with his own two hands.

It felt so good, so liberating, to finally feel like this. For too long it seemed as if he had been wandering aimlessly, yet stuck in place at the same time. Now he had a direction, an objective, and the beginnings of plans and ideas were already swirling inside his head like dust clouds in space before they formed planets. He would have been more than happy to jump into the situation by himself, guns blazing with almost no thought or preparation, ready to take on the entirety of the Japanese mafia if he had to, but thankfully he had grown up somewhat since his teenage years - though his stubbornness still persisted – and after looking at all of the research Nel had done, he knew he was woefully unprepared. Ichigo hadn't been lying: even a few scant minutes before, he'd had no idea what he was going to do, but within seconds names and faces were popping up in his mind, people that could help, people that he knew would want to help.

"I need to thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"You said this turned into kind of an obsession for you, right? Now you have someone to share it with. And it's going to help me. I can't save him anymore Nel, but I want to do this for him. I want to make sure he can rest in peace, finally. And then when I do that, I can go to his grave with my head held high and tell him I did everything I could. And then I think I'll be OK."

"Whatever you need, I'm here. You won't have to do this alone, even though I know you want to. But I loved him too. And I want to help," Nel said softly.

"I know. You will. But first..."

Carefully, he gathered up everything before them and piled it up neatly on the floor next to the couch. It was calm and methodical, every movement betraying his new inner zen. Even his customary scowl had smoothed out into a look of placid serenity. Now that he knew what had to be done, he could afford to let go a little.

Nel watched with interest and squealed when he faced her and said with a smirk, "It's been a while since we had a sleepover, hmm?"

"Sleepover! Yes yes, with ice cream and blankets and trash TV! And we can sleep in the same bed like we used to!" She hurled herself forward, burying her head in his chest. "Ahhh Itsygo, I missed you so much!"

Ichigo's breath was crushed out of his body but he didn't mind in the slightest. He said, "Also, I think I'm still just drunk enough to sing some karaoke. Or is that too far?"

"Karaoke too? Oh, this is the best reunion ever!"

"You better go get that ice cream before I change my mind."

She was beaming. "You still like chocolate, right?"

"I would probably die before I stopped liking it."

"Hm, good thing I brought that triple fudge brownie chocolate ice cream in advance then! You wait right here and I'll bring everything to you! Ahhh, I'm so excited!"

She was bustling around the apartment, smiling from ear to ear while he rearranged the couch into makeshift blanket fort, the same way they used to do back when they had been carefree teenagers. This was the Nel he remembered – giddy, bubbly, so effervescent with happiness that it infected everyone around her. Though she could be grave and serious, he knew she was truly being herself when she was giggling with childish delight, eyes bright with joy, and seeing her back to her old self lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Later, while they were snuggled in the couch eating ice cream straight from the carton, he felt her head drop onto his shoulder. Her hand searched out his and their fingers intertwined. In that moment, the bittersweet taste of dark chocolate melting on his tongue, Ichigo felt the happiest he had been ever since that morning long ago when Hirako Shinji had first walked into his house and upended his life with just a few simple words.


He had not meant for days to turn into weeks, but he was consumed. The fire that burned within him was fierce and white-hot, and it was different to the fire of self hatred that had propelled him along until now; it was constant and even, and Ichigo found himself eating and sleeping properly for the first time in weeks. He could even think about Senna and the baby without his heart feeling like it would rip itself apart inside him.

All too often, he thought of contacting her. He had left suddenly, quitting his job and moving out of their shared apartment within days of her news, and he knew he had torn her life up into pieces. She said she was OK with it, she said she had understood, but had she really?

The compulsion came upon him one afternoon while he was sifting through Nel's copious notes. The apartment was silent. Nel was at work, and out of the blue his mind was filled with Senna, guilt churning his insides. He thought of the way she had always stared up at him with adoration, her patience with his distant behavior, her loyalty, her understanding. He had been such a bastard to her - no wonder, really, that she had done what she had. Before he knew it, he had grabbed his phone and was calling her. Ichigo wondered if she would pick up, whether or not she had deleted and blocked his number. He wouldn't have blamed her.

"Hello?"

Her voice was tentative, but sweet as ever. Hearing it, golden eyes flashed in his mind for an instant he thought, This is wrong. I shouldn't have broken up with her.

"Senna? It's me. Ichigo."

"Yes. I know."

This was harder than he could have imagined. His throat was tight. There were so many things he wanted to say to her – I'm sorry, I was such an asshole, it was all my fault – but all he could come up with was a lame, "I just called to, um, see how you were doing."

A silence, that seemed to stretch on forever. Then she said, "I'm doing OK," and he knew she was lying, her voice quavered slightly like it always did when she lied, and after that a dam burst in him and a torrent of words stumbled out of his mouth.

"Look...I know I kind of just disappeared. And I feel like an idiot. I know I wasn't a great boyfriend to you, and you deserve a lot better than me. I'm sorry for what I did to you."

She said nothing, and he couldn't imagine what expression she might be wearing, how she might be feeling – would she be shocked? Angry? Spiteful?

"I just wanted to say, whatever happened between us, it was good. Really. You were one of the best things that happened to me in a long while, I was just too stupid to see it. I just hope you're OK. I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but if you need anything or you're in trouble, you can call me anytime."

He thought he heard a sob and his heart skipped a beat. "Senna? Are you all right?"

"Not really," she whispered. "But I will be. Thank you for calling me."

"Don't thank me. I don't deserve it."

"You're a good person, Ichigo. You always have been. I knew it the moment I met you. You're a good person and you always blame yourself, but this wasn't just your fault." She was sniffling. He heard her blow her nose. "I did this to myself, too. I chased after you when I shouldn't have. I blamed you when you didn't feel for me what I felt for you, but I didn't really do anything about it, did I? I just betrayed you."

"Senna-"

"I think I'm going to keep the baby," she said. "No matter who the father is, I will still be the mother. It will still be my child. So don't worry about that. Promise me."

In another lifetime, they might have been perfect for each other. "You know I can't promise that."

She sighed.

"Senna, I mean it. I'm in Germany at the moment seeing some friends but I'm going to back to Japan soon. If you come back too, tell me. If I can't be a good boyfriend to you, I can try and be a good friend at least. I want to help."

"I know. Thank you."

The conversation seemed to be winding down to a close. He could tell she wanted to stop talking, and he hurriedly added, "I won't bother you again for a while. You must be busy. But if you want to talk anytime, or just call me an asshole and scream at me, that's cool. You can do that. I won't mind."

"Oh. I might take you up on that someday." Ichigo could hear her smiling, and it made him smile too.

"Bye, Senna."

"Goodbye, Ichigo."

She hung up first. For a while afterwards he sat and stared into the middle distance, the tight knot in his chest unraveling slightly. Then he wiped his eyes and went back to work.