Hello lovelies~ So sorry for the delay, I had a case of writer's block, and then I had a busy, fun-filled weekend, so this chapter took me a little longer to write.

Without further ado, here's the next chapter!

Renji hadn't pegged Hanatarou as a gossip-loving person, but boy, he couldn't be more wrong. The minute the kid found out that Orihime was meeting up with a smart, hot, potentially boyfriend-material friend, he wouldn't stop hounding Renji for details even after Renji swore on his mother's grave that he hadn't heard back from the girl since the reunion. She had two days off right after that, and Renji hadn't seen her since then.

"Why don't you just ask her yourself?" Renji finally asked in exasperation.

Snapping his mouth shut, Hanatarou went pink in the face and bowed his head, hiding behind his jaw-length hair.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, comprehension dawned and Renji raised his eyebrows.

"No! It's not what you think!" the boy immediately said, correctly guessing what Renji was thinking.

Renji smirked and nodded. "Sure."

Hanatarou looked stricken when he heard the heavy dose of sarcasm in the redhead's tone. "Please! Don't tell anyone!" he begged, wringing his hands nervously.

"Don't tell anyone what?" a loud voice suddenly piped up behind the two of them.

Hanatarou jumped and nearly bumped into Renji's elbow as he whipped his head around. It was only Tessai, his gloved fingers and forearms covered in a coat of flour, having just finished making a fresh batch of ramen on the other side of the kitchen. He peered questioningly at Hanatarou from above his rectangular-shaped glasses, waiting for a response.

"Nothing," Hanatarou said hastily.

Renji nearly snorted, but kept quiet all the same, not wanting to embarrass the obviously-shy Hanatarou any further.

Tessai, on the other hand, was either just clueless or intentionally being mean. "I thought I heard you mention Inoue-"

Before he could finish speaking, the front door swung open. All three men turned in unison and were immediately greeted by a very happy Orihime. Her smile was radiant and wide, lending her already-flawless face a glow that highlighted her rosy cheeks.

Shaking his head in amusement, Renji decided to ask on behalf of Hanatarou - the poor kid looked like he had been bombed in the face, judging by the color of his cheeks. "So how was the date?"

"It wasn't a date," Orihime pouted, but her smile remained. She hopped onto one of the stools lined up along the counter, then rested her elbows on the counter top and cupped her cheeks with her palms.

Despite the bashful smile on her face, Renji could tell that she was bursting to tell them about it, so he cocked an eyebrow and gestured for her to go on.

Orihime blushed, but looked relieved that her friends seemed interested. "He is so much taller now," she said before letting out a dreamy sigh. "And he's gotten…I don't know, broader? I think he has been working out, his biceps are like, really toned! And his hair has gotten longer too!"

Renji shot a look at Hanatarou and felt sorry for the boy. He was clinging on to every word, giving her his full attention even though she was talking about another boy, one whom she clearly liked. From the way she was going on, this classmate of hers was the most perfect man in the world.

"He's going to teach English!" Orihime continued proudly. "He even has a little accent now, it's so cute!"

Renji rolled his eyes and chuckled under his breath. "So, when's the next date?" he asked casually as he rinsed a stack of plates in the sink.

The girl let out a string of giggles and said almost shyly, "I'm having dinner with him tomorrow, but it's not a date, okay?"

Glancing at Hanatarou again, Renji had to suppress the sudden urge to give the kid a hug. He looked like he needed it.

Unfortunately for Hanatarou, his prospects just continued to dip over the next few weeks. They had all gotten used to Orihime's antics now; all she talked about during her shift was Mr. Perfect, constantly gushing about how popular he was with his students and how he was such a gentleman.

And then, when they passed the two-month mark, she began to officially date him. She was still sweet towards Renji and Hanatarou, but she stopped making her quirky little desserts for them like she used to. Renji didn't want to be mean, but he was actually secretly thankful for that.

"He's a lucky guy," Hanatarou mumbled wistfully one day. "I wonder what he looks like." He was standing next to Renji, arranging ingredients in the bowls lined up in front of him on the kitchen counter.

Renji gave the boy a sympathetic squeeze on his shoulder as Hanatarou sighed. He didn't know what he could say to console the kid, so he remained silent and hoped that his small gesture would be enough. He decided not to mention to Hanatarou that he'd gotten a brief glimpse of Orihime's boyfriend earlier that day; it wasn't like he got a clear view of the guy anyway.

He was perched on a ladder at the time, measuring the dimensions of the current awning that stretched from the roof of the store. After keeping it to himself for so long, he had finally caved and told Tessai that they needed to do something about that ugly thing. Tessai had taken it in stride, and then proceeded to hand the task over to him. He didn't mind, it was actually kind of nice to be able to do something outdoors for a change.

As he was retracting the measuring tape, he spied a car out of the corner of his eye. He didn't pay much attention to it until it slowly rolled to a stop across the street, then he heard the sound of a car door opening, followed by the unmistakable sound of Orihime's feminine voice bidding someone goodbye. Feeling more curious than he should, he turned around and tried to get a look at this supposedly perfect man. The car windows were tinted, though, and Renji had sunglasses on to boot, so all he caught was the slim silhouette of a man with about jaw-length hair. And then the car was gone, leaving Orihime waving at it until it turned around a corner and went out of sight.

Renji kept this tidbit to himself only because he suspected that Hanatarou would start waiting outside the shop every day just to catch a glimpse of the car himself. He wouldn't put it past Hanatarou - the kid would probably even skip class to do it.

Actually, that wasn't the only thing that Renji was keeping to himself. He figured that Hanatarou was already miserable enough; if he were to find out that Mr. Perfect was actually having dinner at Tesshou Ramen Shop that night, he would probably have a breakdown.

After the car sped off, Orihime crossed the road and called out a greeting to Renji. Unable to resist, he teased her about her reluctant farewell, and as expected, she had blushed a deep pink, only to surprise him by saying that she was going to introduce her boyfriend to all of them later that evening.

Even though it had absolutely nothing to do with him, Renji found himself all the more curious. While he felt mildly disgusted by his seemingly growing nosiness, he was inwardly happy. This meant he was beginning to adjust to this new life and taking an interest in these warm and friendly people.

As the day progressed, Renji started to feel antsy. What if the guy turned out to be complete jerk? He had a feeling that Orihime was looking forward to showing off her new boyfriend, and would probably be really disappointed if they didn't warm up to the man. He'd only known Orihime for a little over two months, but he'd come to see her as the little sister he never had. Not quite like Rukia, as Rukia was more like a motherly elder sister to him, but a fragile, innocent girl who was so happily in love and could be easily manipulated.

Just like Ichigo.

Renji's breath hitched as the thought suddenly struck him, and he had to reach out to grip the edge of the kitchen counter to hold himself steady. Ichigo wasn't fragile, but he was innocent, and Renji had ruined it all. Suddenly depressed, he tried to focus his thoughts on picturing Hanatarou's reaction instead. Would the boy keel over in shock, or would he start bawling?

To distract himself further, Renji took it upon himself to take out the garbage. It was usually Tessai's job, as those things could be really heavy, but Renji was just as strong, if not more. He gathered a good three bags of food scraps, torn packaging, and miscellaneous trash, then waddled toward the squeaky metal door in the back of the kitchen. Grunting, he kicked the door open and hauled the bags outside, then put them into the large communal bins according to the type of waste.

When he went back inside, he was greeted with a teary-faced Hanatarou.

"H-he's here!" he stammered, clearly distraught.

For a moment, Renji was confused. "Who?"

Then, he understood.

Hanatarou let out a small sniff and launched himself at Renji, wrapping his arms around Renji's torso and burying his face into Renji's shirt. Caught by surprise, all he could do was stand there awkwardly.

Just then, Tessai entered through the curtain that separated the dining area and the kitchen. At first, he didn't notice the two of them and simply hollered for Hanatarou to prepare a bowl of extra broth, then he stopped short at the sight of them. He raised his eyebrows and gave Renji a curious look, since he was in the dark on the boy's little crush.

"I'll get it," Renji offered. Trying his best not to touch Hanatarou with his dirty hands, he slowly untangled himself from the boy's grasp. After a thorough scrub of his hands in the sink, he donned his apron again and grabbed a bowl.

"He's really good-looking," Hanatarou mumbled, tagging behind as Renji filled the bowl with steaming hot tonkotsu broth.

Renji wasn't sure how to comfort the kid, so he merely gave him a sympathetic look and began to throw in the garnishing. "I'll talk to you when I get back, okay?" he said, hoping that Hanatarou would pull himself together soon. The boy nodded unhappily.

Holding the bowl in his hands, Renji ducked through the curtains and headed to the small cabinet next to the cash register that held plastic trays and utensils. After some precarious balancing attempts, he finally got the bowl on a tray and looked to Tessai for instructions.

"Orihime's boy, over there, with the orange hair," Tessai pointed towards the entrance.

Renji's head snapped to the direction at the mention of orange hair and promptly spilled the soup over his hand. Swallowing a hiss of pain, he almost lost his grip on the tray, but managed to catch it at the last minute. His hands shaking in shock, he lowered himself behind the cashier counter, then slowly stuck his head out to confirm what he thought he had just seen.

There, sitting at a table next to the window, was a young man with a head of vibrant orange hair. He had his back towards Renji, but there was no denying it - the hair was longer than he remembered it, the shoulders slightly broader, the arms better defined, but Renji had no doubt who they belonged to. His eyes went wide in disbelief as the realization gradually sank in.

Ichigo was Mr. Perfect?

Renji went completely still as shock was suddenly replaced by an intense rush of longing. Before he knew it, his heart was pounding erratically, threatening to leave his chest and crawl up into his throat. He had been so certain that he would never see Ichigo again, yet here he was, in the flesh, sitting there within reach. All he needed to do was walk up there. It was so tempting, so, so tempting.

"Your hand is all red," Tessai suddenly said in Renji's ear, nearly causing another spill. Renji looked up to see the man crouched next to him, peering at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Renji mumbled hastily. "I'm sorry, I'll go get another bowl."

Tessai pressed a hand on Renji's shoulder and took the bowl from him. "You will do no such thing," he said gravely. " Get up and let Hanatarou take a look at your hand."

Renji's mind was so blank by that point that it didn't even occur to him to protest. He still couldn't believe it. Ichigo. Ichigo, whose photo he had been carrying with him every day for the past few years, was sitting right there eating ramen in this very shop. And to top it off, he had apparently been back in this town for at least two months, and was currently dating Orihime.

Fate was a cruel, unpredictable creature. Renji remembered that Ichigo came from a small town, but he didn't remember the name of the town. What were the chances that it turned out to be Karakura? He stumbled into the kitchen, cradling his injured hand. He could see that it was pink where the soup had spilled onto the skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the tightness in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to rush up to Ichigo and hold him and tell him how sorry he was, but another part of him was telling him to run - run while he still could, before he ruined Ichigo's life again. There was no way he could avoid the boy forever, not when Orihime worked here.

In fact - Renji's brows furrowed at the thought - how was it that Ichigo didn't already know that he was here? Then he chided himself for over-thinking; he had no reason to assume that Orihime would tell the guy anything about her co workers, especially him. He was new after all, and had just started working here right before Ichigo's return. There was no reason why the girl would mention another guy to Ichigo when she was completely smitten with Ichigo.

Renji resisted the urge to massage his temples as he felt a headache coming on. His effort on self restraint came out in the form of a grimace, and Hanatarou took it as a sign that Renji was in pain.

"It's okay, it will just be a little tender for a couple of days, I don't think it will blister," Hanatarou said, dabbing a cooling ointment onto Renji's skin.

Renji grunted, not really paying attention. He needed to leave, he couldn't stay here while Ichigo was right outside.

"I'm sorry, Hanatarou, can you please tell Tessai-san that I need to leave? I'm not feeling that well," Renji said, feeling his cheeks heat up as he lied.

Hanatarou nodded and carefully tucked the first aid kit away. "Take care," he said, looking a little worried. "Try to keep you hand dry for a while."

Renji gave him a curt nod and quickly grabbed his jacket, then he left through the backdoor.

When Renji arrived at Ukitake's house, he slid his key into the front door, only to find that it wasn't locked. He was surprised; Ukitake and his wife were both cautious people, it was unlikely that they would just forget to lock it. Then, he heard voices from the dining room and realized that Ukitake had a visitor.

The dining room was on the way to the stairs, so Renji had no choice but to walk past it even though he didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment. He tried to hurry by and hopefully avoid detection, but Ukitake saw him immediately.

"Renji-kun, let me introduce you to an old friend of mine," Ukitake said, gesturing to a middle-aged man seated next to him. "This is Kurosaki-sensei, my doctor and good friend. Kurosaki-sensei, this is Renji-kun, who's staying with us."

Renji felt air leave his lungs. Kurosaki?

The man made a face and complained, "Juushirou, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Isshin? You make me feel so old!" Then, he turned back around and stood up to offer his hand to Renji.

Renji continued to gape, unable to move a muscle. Could the day be any worse? He searched the stranger's face for signs of the man's relation to Ichigo but found none. The glaring difference being that the man had short, spiky black hair, and he was tall, almost Renji's height, and stocky, with a thick neck, broad shoulders, and large hands. Surely this must be just a distant relative?

Renji's stunned reaction - and his very limp handshake - went unnoticed as Ukitake let out a good-natured laugh. "Old habits die hard, Isshin," the white-haired man chuckled, patting his friend's shoulder as Isshin sat back down. "Or should I call you 'Old Goat'? Does Ichigo-kun still call you that?"

Isshin groaned and rubbed his face. "Oh, that's not the only thing he calls me, and none of them sound good," he whined dejectedly. "You would think a kid would have more respect for his father."

Father? Renji felt his jaw drop, and hastily snapped his mouth shut before they questioned his odd behavior. There was no way this was Ichigo's father, was there? Ichigo was wiry and slim, his fingers elegant and long, and he had orange hair for fuck's sake. Renji knew for a fact that Ichigo's hair color was natural, so he had simply assumed that Ichigo's entire family had the same hair color and had never asked about it.

Ukitake laughed again, his voice sounding slightly breathless towards the end. "Ah, you complain," he chided his friend. "In truth you can't be happier now that he's back home."

Isshin's feigned sad face was immediately replaced by a wide grin, and his chest puffed up, clearly feeling proud of his son.

"And isn't he dating that pretty girl, what's her name…" Ukitake's wife said, her brows drawn together as she tried to recall the name.

Renji nearly blurted out Orihime's name, but managed to catch himself in time. That would be a disaster - Ukitake would ask him how he knew, and then that would lead to questions about how he knew Ichigo; things would go nowhere else but downhill then.

"Orihime," Isshin supplied, his smile brightening. "Inoue Orihime, the prettiest girl in Ichigo's high school class back then."

By this point, Renji was thinking furiously of a way to extract himself from this conversation. The last thing he wanted to do was to stand here and hear about Ichigo and his new relationship. Luckily for him, Ukitake seemed to have detected his awkwardness and offered him a way out. "I'm sorry, don't let us keep you," the man said gently. "I know you were on your way back to your room. You must be tired."

"Yes, I'm kinda…yeah," Renji mumbled, thankful for the escape. "Good night." Then he bowed his head and practically jogged up the stairs.

Half way up, though, he slowed down. Even though he was out of sight, their voices still carried from the dining room. They were still talking about Ichigo, and Renji suddenly found himself unable to budge from his spot on the stairs. So, he slowly slid down against the wall and crouched down on one of the steps, and listened.

The next few minutes felt like an eternity to Renji, his emotions switching from happiness to regret to pride to anguish as though someone was using his gut as a mixing bowl. He didn't know that Ichigo used be one of the top students in high school, nor did he know that Ichigo started karate lessons at the tender age of four. He didn't know that Ichigo used to get into fights in school. He didn't know how fiercely protective Ichigo was of his twin sisters. He didn't know how hard Ichigo had to work in order to get that precious scholarship that finally gave him the opportunity to go to a college outside of Japan.

The longer Renji listened, the heavier his heart became. Ichigo had been a normal, hardworking young man with a bright future, and Renji had destroyed that innocence because of his cowardice and selfishness. If he hadn't given into the childish dare to steal that Porsche that one time, if he hadn't boasted about it to Shuuhei, if he hadn't been so afraid of being exiled from a family that never really welcomed him in the first place...God, how could he have been so stupid?

He would have to leave Karakura, he realized with a sinking stomach. It was a horrifying thought. He had just settled down into his new life - a steady job, new friends, a sense of independence, and now he had to leave all these behind and start over again. Still, it was better than the alternative; he couldn't afford to let Ichigo see him, not after the boy had thought he was dead all these years. No matter how much he wanted to see Ichigo, he knew he mustn't. Ichigo had suffered enough and deserved a normal, happy life, which, judging by his father's description, was exactly what he had now, and there was no place for Renji in that life.

The headache that he had foreseen at the ramen shop hit him in full force, and he clenched his jaw against the insistent throbbing behind his eyes. Suppressing a groan, he stood up and dragged himself back to his room on unsteady legs. He had somehow avoided detection for two months, he could afford at least one more week to figure out where he could go.

To be continued...

Nope, no reunion yet, but we all know that it will happen eventually. In the meantime, I'll let you guys stew a bit over the "how". XD

By the way, someone asked me about that May 12th, sophomore year incident...I didn't give a whole lot of details, but it's the "robbery and grand theft auto" that Starrk mentioned briefly in Chapter 6. I threw in a tiny bit more detail here just for good measure. :)