AN: Someone pointed out to me that they were uncomfortable with Ichigo's characterization, which surprised me – I was more uncomfortable with Uryuu's. Well, for those of you who found Ichigo to be OOC, you'll find his behavior justified, or at least explained in this chapter. I feel that he makes sense now but that Uryuu is still a bit of a loose end, so I hope to wrap that up soon, too.

Morning broke. Ryuko hadn't slept – she rarely did – and Kurosaki shoved himself up off the floor since he and Ryuko had put Ishida on the couch last night. Despite himself, he asked her, "Is he all right?"

"He will be, though ten thousand yen says he'll be a total cunt when he wakes up," she chuckled. "You know how nasty a hangover can be, Ikari," she said, looking pointedly at the conspicuously missing pinky of Kurosaki's left hand. He looked at it with distaste.

"Aww, shut up. Why didn't you just leave him there, dammit?" he asked, sounding more like an obstinate child than anything else.

She sniffed. "I can do whatever I want. Besides, I-"

"Mmmmmf."

Ryuko nodded to the lump on her couch. "Sleeping Beauty's awake," she quipped.

"Am I dead yet?" It was a barely intelligible mumble, but the tone of voice was unmistakably desolate.

Ryuko laughed with pity. "Nope, but I bet you wish you were."

"You have no idea," he grumbled. He raised his head slowly and met hesitant eyes, eyes he hadn't seen in a very long time, eyes he had hoped he'd never see again. They'd hardened, sharpened, were almost unfamiliar now, but the hair was unmistakable.

He was surprised at his own ability to not react. I must be more dead inside than I thought, he said to himself. He took in the tattoos that covered the man in front of him, the intimidating collar, the downright horrifying necklace of teeth, and felt something deep inside him recoil. Not at what Kurosaki had become, but rather that his fashion sense had all but imploded. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, considering that at least the thug in front him looked as though he'd showered in the past week. Ishida couldn't remember the last time he'd showered.

The woman was almost as skinny as he himself was, though lean muscles showed outside her scant clothing. Her lack of sleep looked less like drug-induced insomnia and more like attentive, alert refusal to doze off. Her tattoos and piercings were much more numerous than Kurosaki's and Ishida assumed that she was probably of higher rank than his old rival.

Kurosaki was still trying to decide if he was hurt or relieved that Ishida hadn't acknowledged him. On one hand, being acknowledged would bring back painful memories, but if Ishida honestly couldn't remember him, that might hurt worse. Ryuko, with her usual lack of tact and a mouthful of food, said, "I thought you two knew each other?"

Ishida, trying to ignore both harsh countenances, denied it. "I've never seen him before in my life."

Kurosaki, suspecting Ishida was being a stubborn bastard, like he'd always bee, sniffed angrily. "He's a stranger to me, too," he spat.

Ryuko, reading the situation correctly, grinned. "Ooh, touchy little bitches, aren't you!" Both men bristled at her choice of words. "What's your name, crackhead?"

Ishida didn't respond.

"I asked you what your name is. You speak when you are spoken to," growled Ryuko, marching over and grabbing Ishida's face like a mother would a disobedient child. "What. Is. Your. Name."

Kurosaki knew he was being stubborn when he jerked his face away and mumbled, "People usually call me Yurei."

"You look like one," Ryuko scoffed.

"That's all that's left of me," Ishida said quietly.

Ryuko shook her head. "Poor bastard's more far gone than I thought. Should we take him out back and shoot him, Ikari?"

Kurosaki twitched when she made the suggestion, but Ishida spoke before Kurosaki could. "Please, do," he said, a desperation Kurosaki had never heard before tingeing his voice. Kurosaki lost it at that.

"You used to have so much fucking pride, 'Yurei'," he spat. "What the fuck happened?!"

Ishida put a hand to his stomach and looked up at Kurosaki, momentarily silent. Kurosaki flinched visibly. "I lost a lot of shit in the past few years, 'Ikari'," he said, "and as for 'what the fuck happened', I could ask you the same thing. You used to be so adamant about protecting the weak..."

Kurosaki flushed with the vaguest hint of shame. "You're here, aren't you?" he muttered.

Ishida fell silent. Ryuko watched the scene from the sidelines, leaning against a wall, apple in one hand, chicken leg in the other. She gnawed disinterestedly on both."

"I want to die. I don't know why you bothered saving me. I feel..." he hesitated, glancing at Ryuko, choosing his words carefully. "I feel... hollow. I'm looking forward to dying," he said, hoping Kurosaki would get the message. He did. An irate Kurosaki gripped Ishida's throat, pulling him off the floor and throwing him into a wall angrily. He could barely speak with rage.

"How dare you. How dare you. After everything you worked for – how dare you resort to that, how DARE you want to be like that? You're-"

"Ikari, don't eat him," interjected Ryuko. "He's awfully bony anyway. Probably wouldn't taste very good either."

Ishida, momentarily distracted, looked over at her, then back to Kurosaki, and what he saw in his formal rival's eyes made him gasp: a gaze tainted unnaturally with black venom. An inhuman shriek welled up in his throat. "That's not fair!" he wailed. "No! It's not fair! I lost everything. I fucking lost everything!"

Kurosaki laughed bitterly. "I was always a killer, 'Yurei'. Always will be. I've just come to terms with that fact recently."

The van puttered into place outside the old store they hadn't set eyes on in ages. It looked decrepit, dusty, dangerous to be in. Orihime wondered if Urahara was even there anymore.

A dark shadow emerged from around the door that hung off its hinges. Yoruichi looked much, much older somehow, and much more tired. "You've come back," she said. It was more of a question than a statement.

Orihime had lost the ability to speak. Chad spoke for them both. "We want to be our old selves again. And we want Ishida and Kurosaki back."

A glint of the old playfulness came into her eyes. "Really? Well. Then you'll want to talk to Kiyomi, won't you?" she handed Chad a slip of paper. "She's 100% brilliant and 500% insane, but she's much wiser than I'll ever be. If anyone could tell you how to get back to Pooh Corner, it's her. She's pretty good at poker, too."

Chad nodded, gunning the engine. It was all they were going to get out of her and he knew that neither he nor Orihime would be able to stare into that grinning face much longer.

Ryuko had left. Ishida and Kurosaki were left staring warily at each other like feral animals coming face to face in the alley.

Ishida, reasoning that he no longer had a worst case scenario other than living, was the first to speak. The old sardonic Ishida peeked through the eyes of the broken one as he antagonized Kurosaki. "A gang? Really, 'Ikari'? How many people have you killed, then? How many innocent, defenseless women, children-"

"None," hissed Kurosaki. "Not one of those motherfuckers I killed didn't deserve it, wasn't a monster, didn't kill countless people who deserved to live much more than he did. I still have some kind of pride left, whether you do or not. I just choose to mete out justice in a way that society isn't exactly approving of. You? You've taken shit way too far."

"At least I haven't murdered people," Ishida deadpanned.

Kurosaki laughed bitterly. "So that's what you think, huh? Sure about that? Did you see the look on Orihime's face when you told her it was her fault people died?" Ishida flinched, but Kurosaki didn't stop. "What your leaving did to Chad?" He looked away, hesitating. "What it did to me?" he asked softly.

Ishida had lost the will to fight and halfheartedly told Kurosaki, "Don't blame me for your shit."

An intense look came into Kurosaki's eyes and Ishida felt a little frightened in spite of himself. When Kurosaki grabbed his face and began to examine it with a worried confusion in his eyes, he answered with no little bemusement of his own. "What the-" Kurosaki trailed off.

"What?" asked Ishida impatiently.

"I know- I know you were bleeding like a stuck pig yesterday after Ryuko's car hit you. But I don't see anything today. Do you hurt at all?"

Ishida shook his head and the two looked at each other, completely baffled.