Disclaimer: I give up on this chapter. Wah.

Chapter Two: Frozen Ammonia Solutions

Karakura General Hospital was likely the most inhospitable place on Earth. It caused the average visitor to speculate how such an impression was formed and the average patient to quake in his or her bed when facing a two month term of rehab. Sure, the place was pretty enough and spacious enough, bright enough and giant window'd enough. The nurses smiled when prompted, the doctors were formal and polite, and everything was clean. The hospital's only problem was the darkness and cold of it's soul, Dr. Ishida Ryuuken. The building was very much this man's own body, his own place in the world where he presided over unquestionably as if he were utilising the function of a limb. Dr. Ishida had dedicated his life to this hospital decades before, and in acceptance of it's One Lord And Master, it had given him it's shell.

And like the hospital, Dr. Ishida had multiple personalities. To patients he appeared calm enough and giant glasses'd enough. Hell, he was even pretty enough if you were looking for a distinguished older man. But, deep below, one sensed that something vital had gone frigid, perhaps something vital enough to be an organ that had stopped beating it's SOS decades before. The man was the dark underside of the glacier and the frozen desert above; his blue eyes glittered inwardly from the artic sun that lit each of his bright ideas. Also, he looked majestic in photographs and had a soft, slushy part in his soul reserved for seals and penguins alike. These animals often seemed at home in his presence on the doctor's occasional visits to the local zoo. Dr. Ishida had likewise almost become a marine veterinarian. Being a human doctor, however, made him appear somewhat less of the loser he'd always deeply been.

But, no-one ever saw Dr. Ishida's playful seal side. If they had, it would have scared them so much he would have been dead before twenty. Fond of life, he had as a result become distant and dismissive. Though nice enough and professional (more than enough) to his few patients, he was a tyrant to those working beneath him. Kurosaki Ichigo knew. Ichigo worked part-time on the Karakura Hospital maintenance staff, courtesy of Kurosaki Isshin's "outstanding connections" and overall ability at making certain his son was never happy. His excuse was that Ichigo would grow accustomed to hospital life and would know the place inside and out and would never get lost, which was so horribly embarrassing to happen on someone's first day of practising medicine. Ichigo couldn't make him understand that it was also embarrassing to trudge around elite doctors and paranoid med students in a janitor's uniform. Someone as noticeable as Ichigo did not posses the knack of disappearing into the background and was therefore called up right away for every mess. So far he had mopped more spills than all his co-workers combined simply because the person who'd made the mess would tell another to find "that orange-haired guy" to clean it up. It was as if Ichigo had become the hospital's only custodian.

Even worse were the people crying on Ichigo, all students, mostly, who caught sight of him at the corner of the cafeteria minding his own business picking croutons and hair out if his broom's bristles. They would tell him that janitors had it easy for not accomplishing enough to be doctors and nurses. Since in the hospital hierarchy Ichigo was below uninsured patients and their dogs, those who complained about life to him believed he was incapable of intelligent thought, a sort of robot, and unable to relate to anything they may say even if it were derogatory to his position. The tête-à-tête to what was basically expected to be no more responsive than a wall usually ended violently with Ichigo running at the speaker and brandishing his broom in the stance of a samurai warrior.

There were surprisingly few complaints about Ichigo's behaviour after an outburst due to the recognition that registered upon mention of Kurosaki Isshin. Some apologised to Ichigo. More, feeling like idiots about their encounters, told others to find him whenever there was a particularly nasty mess. Who was Kurosaki Ichigo to go around sweeping in the cafeteria like a typical janitor without warning everyone, anyway? It was all Ichigo's fault. What he needed was a neon sign to give others a heads up.

Ichigo never earned any stand-out terrible treatment from Dr. Ishida, which wasn't to say he liked the guy because if it. The hospital lived in fear if the man, but Ichigo was not a fearing type, so instead he despised. Dr. Ishida was good at walking in on the most sickening subjects to be mopped or swept away, but he couldn't be blamed for that. He was also good at walking into Ichigo first thing when looking for someone to clean up. Ichigo began to wonder if the man could unwittingly sense spiritual power and was therefore drawn to him right away. This, of course, was something Dr. Ishida again couldn't be blamed for, but still pissed Ichigo off.

Ichigo was happy at least to get paid, though too much of it went into his side of the rent. His roommate, Chad, worked everywhere for moving companies and whatever appreciated a man who could do some very heavy lifting. The guy could've been a boxer or a wrestler or a superhero with his physique. It was beautiful, though Ichigo was bisexual enough to not be attracted to that in a guy. Call him sexist, call him picky, but Ichigo wanted to win all the arm wrestling matches.

Which was why no other janitor in the hospital could scrub quite as effectively as Ichigo. Which meant he did a hell of a lot of scrubbing. Which sucked.

Outside of spontaneous combat and resurrecting from almost-death, Kurosaki Ichigo had no luck. It was in many ways pathetic. Seriously. He'd struggled for life through high school just so he could live this college life?

Just, Damn.

He was sweeping croutons again, it was Wednesday, and he was wondering why the hospital served croutons when it was so obvious that no-one was eating them. The amount of hair on the floor was also astounding, and it was scary to imagine how many bald people had to be walking around the hospital in a great bald army. Sure, there were cancer patients losing hair, but they weren't all active enough to ruminate in the cafeteria over their inevitable shed. Most of the hair, on closer inspection, was thinning old man hair. Every doctor in the hospital had thinning old man hair, even the women. Only Dr. Ishida Ryuuken was exempt because he was the hospital's stand-in god force.

"I heard you did badly on your exams, Kurosaki. Even I hadn't assumed it was this bad, and I don't like you."

Ichigo turned to face the young man who was one of several banes of his existence, Ishida Uryuu. Ishida in turn was smirking at him, but not smirking. There was the general impression that he would be smirking if he cared to reward Ichigo with that sort of appreciation. Actually, his face was expressionless.

"What the hell do you want?" Which wasn't the nicest way to greet a person, almost a friend, who one hadn't seen since high school. But considering Ishida hadn't greeted him very nicely either, Ichigo was merely levelling with him on the immaturity.

"I'm just commenting on the scenery around here. It's awful."

"Yeah, it got pretty bad when your ugly mug walked in. I've got a mop. Want me to scrub that off? Looks painful."

"You're still immature."

"And you're still a pain in the ass."

"Oh, for the love of God, you two," a woman at a nearby table cried. "Are you guys related?" The question was sincere, and she was looking between the both of them trying to find physical similarities.

"Of course not," Ishida said. "My gene pool's not that shallow."

Ishida just didn't stop, and it pissed Ichigo off more. If Ishida had half the attitude and a fourth of the pride, he could have scraped by as simply a strange guy with special problems. But, as things were, Ishida was an ass. He was not easy to like or get along with, especially if he did not want to be liked or gotten along with. Ichigo had tried. By what he saw as no fault of his own, however, his extensions of somewhat friendship had blown up in his face. It was really Ishida who was the one with the problem. Ichigo didn't originally hate the guy, but had responded to the other's hate. Thus, in Ichigo's mind, there was nothing wrong with him but with Ishida.

"How long do you plan on being cool and hanging out in the cafeteria, you loser?" Ichigo asked, beginning to get back into his sweeping stride and not having to deal with Uryuu any longer if he just focussed more attention on work. What the hell was Uryuu planning to accomplish by speaking with him?

"I don't appreciate that attitude from a janitor."

"Then you shouldn't have started talking to one."

Uryuu only looked at him darkly, as if this were enough to settle their argument in his favour. Maybe he thought he was the bigger man for walking away? Sure, fine, whatever. If the guy couldn't properly finish a fight he'd brought himself into, then that was his problem. Ichigo wasn't about to go running around the room whooping about it. There was an entire three-quarters of floor to sweep, and to slap in the face of popular opinion, Ichigo preferred to get a job as harrowing as that done without much interference. He was moody; it didn't mean he allowed himself to slack.

Unfortunately, for all of Ichigo's ability to focus and not let Uryuu annoy him, things only progressed to worse.

"Where the hell were you at before I was stuck with the horror of your ugly face every afternoon?" Ichigo couldn't resisted asking after nearly an entire week of small bickering with Uryuu. He'd walked in today in time to see Uryuu already settled down to a sandwich and a soda. "There's a deli down the street and, hell, it's cheaper than the cafeteria."

"I like these sandwiches," Uryuu said between bites and slow chewing. Ichigo shook his head and began to sweep.

"Here's a secret, then," he said as he herded another flock of useless croutons into his dustpan. "The guy who makes the cafeteria sandwiches is the son of the guy who owns the deli. They are exactly the same sandwiches."

"I don't feel like walking to a dirty little deli down the street."

Ichigo stopped what he was doing and assumed an authoritative stance with his broom prompted beside him. He shook his finger. "The cafeteria isn't clean when you show up, idiot. That's why I have to be here."

"And you're such a dedicated worker." Uryuu said, amused, though it was hard to tell. "I think this sort of job suits you much better than shinigami work. Does Soul Society need a custodial staff? You'd be phenomenal. They'd probably make you a division captain in no time."

"Shut the hell up," Ichigo said, grabbing his broom with both hands entirely on instinct in preparation to hit something with it. He was starting to wonder if Uryuu wanted to lose an eye.

Ichigo remembered what he had been taught by people and children's books much wiser than himself. There was something important in living a good life and being the person who did not waste time on frivolous argument, but who instead was kind and forgiving. Ichigo just said to forget that, though, since he was a very passionate person. Anger just so happened to be a more destructive passion to those nearby than most. Ichigo had also been taught about a person needing to maintain a certain level of composure at all times, but a few minutes with Ishida Uryuu could destroy all attempts to restrain himself. Seriously, the guy had a death wish. He seriously wanted Ichigo to kill him; that was all Ichigo could make of it. If the children books authors had met Ishida Uryuu, they would have added exceptions to their morals, or written sequels.

"If you need to know, I was in the United States for a while. It was much better than here simply out of a lack of shinigami," said Uryuu answering Ichigo's first question, and thus throwing Ichigo entirely off kilter.

Ichigo paused from wiping down a nearby table. He looked up at Uryuu, curious but wary. "They don't have shinigami in America?"

Uryuu sneered. "You don't know?" he asked. He wiped his hands and mouth from his sandwich in preparation of the infamous Long Explanation he was so masterful at. Ichigo groaned but waited. "It's not really a problem of no shinigami in America, but a problem of fewer hollows. It's because the souls of people in America are not as delicious to hollows as the souls of people in places like Karakura. There are not many people of high spiritual power in the United States in the same way there is high spiritual power in Japan. It s not a good environment for our Japanese demons and soul collectors."

"I thought hollows and shinigami were all over the world."

"They are, but not all the same amount in each place. It makes the Quincy more powerful since we protect people from hollows when the people have fewer shinigami around them. You never notice us covering your slack and just take it for granted. Shinigami don't care about saving people. They only want to kill the strongest hollows to boast."

"That isn't true. Shinigami are all about saving lives."

Uryuu laughed at Ichigo. "Shinigami are soul reaping elitists. You should know that, Kurosaki. They did not take warmly to you at first because you were not a part of their Society. You still aren't--not in a way that they respect you. You'll never been seen as equal, even by the weakest shinigami out there who you could possibly defeat."

"I am not an enemy of the shinigami anymore, Ishida. We are all on good terms. You're complaining because you don't trust anyone, and you're a prick."

"Getting along with shinigami does not mean that they accept you. When we were in Soul Society, I got along well enough with the shinigami, but that didn't mean I no longer despised them. There was simply no logic in antagonizing those who were taking care of us. The way people treat you does not reflect what they think about you. It just reflects their better judgment and self-control."

"And what does that say about you eating your lunch in here everyday when I have to sweep?" Ichigo asked sharply. Uryuu ignored him and continued as if Ichigo had said nothing.

"Also, I noticed that they have assigned a new shinigami to Karakura. Why would Karakura need a shinigami of you are here? That is proof; you may carry the sword and wear the outfit, but you will never be seen as a full shinigami by fellow shinigami. They will always operate on their own without you. You're just an extra fighter when they need one, though they don't trust you at all. If you accept that, you'll be much better off."

This was too much. "You think I am idiot?" Ichigo asked, finally irritated to the point of needing to show Uryuu why everything Uryuu was saying was stupid. He'd let the guy ramble on for too long. Something about Uryuu allowed him to ramble for a very long time about stupid things without being interrupted. Needless to say, it was a tremendously useless ability. "I do know that, and I always have. I know Soul Society is one of the worst bureaucracies off the face of the earth. I operate around that. I don't even want to join the special shinigami club you're telling me I'm not allowed into. That would only hold me back. And also, it's a good thing there is a spare shinigami around here when I have college and sweeping this damn cafeteria to do all day, especially when someone really annoying keeps distracting me. Now, will you please shut the hell up and let me finish the actual work I'm doing while you stuff your ugly face with that overpriced sandwich you love? Thanks."

Ichigo had been getting behind on his custodial duties thanks to Uryuu. Before he entered the cafeteria everyday he would prep himself, swearing to not say a word to Uryuu if Uryuu said anything. He'd watch it all blow up in his face the second he opened the door. For a quiet sort of guy, Uryuu always had something to say to Ichigo. Then, there were the instances where Ichigo couldn't stop himself from starting something he knew would not turn out well. At least everything Ichigo said was intended to drive Uryuu out. There was no way Uryuu was going to force things the other way around.

Ichigo began to cling a little more to the fact that he was getting paid to enter the cafeteria and suffer everyday while Uryuu was paying extra for a sandwich. It was something small to make him happy, so, sometimes it didn't seem like enough. Ichigo couldn't believe how picky he was when it came to accepting small victories. Putting up with himself was sometimes harder than putting up with Uryuu. Uryuu would eventually shut up, unlike Ichigo's annoying gut feelings and urges to put himself in unpleasant situations.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, do you know why you're here?" the head janitor, a guy named Ito, asked. He didn't give Ichigo the option of answering. "You've fallen a half hour behind on your schedule. The nurses needed the bedpans on floor five cleaned before Wataya-san came out of surgery. They were waiting over an hour."

"Yes, sir," Ichigo said since he wasn't allowed to say much else in such circumstances.

"Now, you've been assigned the post-lunch cafeteria cleaning. This seems to be where you are losing your time. Is the cafeteria too much work for you, I wonder? Do you need help for the one-man job of sweeping and wiping tables? We aren't asking you to mop everyday, Kurosaki. I can't see why you're having such a problem."

"There is no problem, sir."

"Don't lie to me, Kurosaki," said Ito sharply. Ichigo frowned. "If you keep messing up, you'll be spending a lot more time in that cafeteria after hours sweeping, wiping, and mopping. You'll be cleaning trays and helping out the cafeteria servers."

"Yes," Ichigo said to show he understood. Ito was someone he'd learned it was useless to argue back at. No-one knew the cause of Ichigo's tardiness but Ichigo, since it was childish. Ito growing frustrated was understandable as Ichigo was too proud to tell him the truth. But, Ichigo was still mad at being put to blame for something that wasn't entirely his fault.

"You're a student, Kurosaki," Ito continued, this time not so furiously. Now he was going to try and appeal to Ichigo's reason. "We give you jobs you can do around your classes and still have time for study. We know your father wants you to do well in class and at work. But, if you can't get your work done in the afternoon, we'll find you something in your next opening late in the evening. Do you understand? You don't know how easy you've got it right now."

Ichigo understood. He was going to kill Uryuu. He understood that very well.

"Shut the hell up," Ichigo said when he entered the cafeteria. Uryuu hadn't even looked at him yet.

"I wasn't saying anything," said Uryuu in self-defence.

"Then don't." Ichigo threw down his dust pan and began to furiously sweep, working in a very good rhythm for the first time in days. A quarter of the way finished seven minutes later, and he couldn't believe things were going so well. It appeared that Uryuu, for once in his life, didn't feel like inciting an argument of epic proportions between the two of them. At this rate, Ichigo would be happily studying over dinner and in bed by eleven without a worry in the world.

Ichigo stood in awe of himself when he finished his sweeping and wiping all with ten minutes to spare. This was a record for him, a personal best. He went to empty his trash and dust into the garbage, emanating relief in his accomplishment. Only one thing could make the moment break, but it looked like Uryuu had already left. Poor Uryuu for being a boring loser with nothing to entertain himself but Ichigo's downfall. Take that, dorkishidasaurus.

"It's good you finished early," a voice that was regrettably Uryuu's said from behind Ichigo. Uryuu appeared at Ichigo's left with his lunch leftovers and plastic eating apparatus to throw away. "A patient just walked in a threw up. Now you'll have time to clean that up while you're here."

Ichigo blanched and spun around, searching for this patient and seeing him just a few feet from the door and looking around himself meekly. He scurried over with a nurse to the food line. Wordlessly, the nurse made eye contact with Ichigo and mouthed "please" while pointing to the mess. Ichigo looked at his watch. He had less than ten minutes for a fifteen minute job, plus the time running around for a mop and "caution: wet floor" signs. He should've brought the entire janitor cart, but stupid him had thought he'd be sweeping and wiping.

"Oh f---," Ichigo said and went to get that damn mop. At the end of the work day, things were not looking good.

"Fell free to take a siesta tomorrow, kid," Ito said a grim smile. "You're new shift's at nine. Don't be late, and don't forget your hair net."

Endnote: I could say this chapter better than nothing, but then I would be lying to you and myself.