Thank you for not stoning me to death for leaving that cliffhanger in the last chapter! XD As promised, I updated quickly!
Renji didn't think anyone would be near the door when he came in with his painting tools. Who the hell would stand behind the door, inside Tesshou Ramen Shop, at six in the freaking morning?
But, judging from the yelp that immediately followed his vicious kick to the door, someone was there alright. His vision was mostly blocked by the tall paper bag he was cradling against his chest, so he reacted by reflex. Before he knew it, he was holding someone's arm in one hand, and then he'd blurted out an apology, hoping fervently that he hadn't broken anybody's nose.
Then, only then, did he recognize the pale face in front of him.
He was running away from the door before it actually registered in his head. Somehow, he still had the sense to hold on to the paper bag, but he had no control over his legs. Only one mantra echoed in his head: shit shit shit shit, over and over again as he raced down the street. He had no idea where he was heading, he just knew that it had to be away from where he had just been.
The shouts didn't reach his ears until they were coming right behind him, practically being yelled into his ears. Then a strong arm grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt, and he was yanked backwards. This time, the paper bag slipped from his hold and went crashing onto the floor as he, too, landed hard on his ass. Paintbrushes, measuring tape, duct tape, rubber gloves - all of his painting supplies practically burst out from the bag as it ripped.
Renji struggled, his instincts to flee kicking in even as his cheeks burned with shame. Running, all he ever did was running. But he couldn't twist out of the iron grip on his t-shirt, and finally, after what felt like a century, he gave up. He could feel Ichigo's laser-like gaze on him, but he refused to turn around. A hand ripped off his beanie rudely, and he heard a choked gasp as the tattoos on his forehead were revealed.
He didn't know what to do. It was over. All the hard work he had put in to wipe out his own existence from Ichigo's life was ruined in that one fateful moment. If only he hadn't overslept this morning, if only he hadn't decided to paint exterior of the shop today, if only he had spent ten extra minutes in the bathroom; so many things could've saved him from this but no...it just had to happen.
"R-renji?"
Renji could hardly recognize Ichigo's voice. It was thick and strained, like he had something stuck in his throat.
What Renji really wanted to do now was to slap the kid's hand away, but he couldn't do it, especially not after hearing Ichigo saying his name like this.
"H-how?"
Renji felt himself being pulled closer to Ichigo, and when he still wouldn't look at the younger man, he felt fingers grab a fistful of his short, spiky hair and forcefully yanked his head around. With his face tilted at an awkward angle, he had no choice but to finally look up into the pair of wide, coffee-colored eyes hovering barely inches away.
"I thought you were dead! What happened? Tell me!" Ichigo screamed and shook Renji. Ichigo looked overwhelmed, but whether it was by anger or relief or sadness, Renji couldn't tell because Ichigo looked like all three. But what he could tell was that they were causing a scene. Passerby were slowing down and giving them odd looks, which wasn't that surprising given that they were both crouched on the sidewalk and Ichigo was shaking him like a broken rag doll.
"Let go," Renji said quietly.
Ichigo's eyes went even wider as he stared at Renji in disbelief. "Let go?" he sputtered. "All this while I thought you were dead, then I meet you out of the blue and all you have to say is let go?"
Renji opened his mouth to beg Ichigo to calm down, but the next thing he knew, he was tackled by the boy. Ichigo's weight threatened to crush him into the ground, and Renji had no choice but to hold him up. He could feel Ichigo trembling in his arms, and it tore at his heart to see the boy breaking into pieces in front of him.
In a perfect world, this would be the touching moment where he and Ichigo reunited after years of being apart. In a perfect world, he would pull Ichigo close to his chest and whisper soothing words in his ears and tell him how much he loved him. And in a perfect world, Ichigo would nod and tell him that he was forever his, and they would never be apart again.
But this wasn't a perfect world.
"I've missed you so much," Ichigo whispered, his face buried in Renji's neck. Renji felt something hot and wet against his skin and, with a sinking stomach, realized that the boy was crying. "I fucking mourned for you! I've never stopped mourning..." The tears slid down Renji's neck. "How could you do this to me?"
Renji swallowed and tried to untangle himself from Ichigo's embrace. "I'm not what you think I am," he said as calmly as he could. He pried Ichigo's hand from his shoulders. He didn't like what he was going to say next, but he was grasping at straws now. "You're just some kid who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, a convenient toy."
"What?" Ichigo peeled himself off Renji's body and stared at him, hurt and disbelief written clearly on his face.
Renji put on a scowl, which he prayed would look at least half fierce. "Go back to your perfect life, Kurosaki."
Ichigo's face paled. "You don't mean it," he said stiffly.
"Yes, I do." Renji forced some spite into his voice even though his throat ached just to speak. He picked himself up from the sidewalk and pushed Ichigo away.
Ichigo seemed too shocked to stop him, and Renji took the opportunity to quickly gather up his paint supplies and leave. He couldn't go back to the ramen shop. Ichigo would probably wait for him there, and if not, Tessai would definitely be there. He didn't know how much the older man had overheard, but just his reaction alone was worth several questions. He could hear it in his head already - why did you run, do you know Ichigo-kun, how did you know each other, how long have you known each other, why didn't you tell us that you knew him?
He knew that Ichigo was still standing behind him watching him walk away; he could feel the boy's eyes on him. His neck was still moist with Ichigo's tears, and it made him want to throw up to think that all those tears were shed for him. He wasn't worth it. Definitely not worth it, especially now that he had just driven the stake even deeper through the boy's chest. He had an idea of how Ichigo felt about him - Starrk had told him enough - but hearing about it and seeing it with his own eyes were shockingly different.
He hated to blow Tessai off like this, but it looked like he would have to leave as soon as he finished up what he needed to do for Ukitake. Cradling the ruptured paper bag tighter to his chest, he quickened his pace and hurried back to his makeshift home.
Ichigo couldn't believe it.
Renji was alive. And not only that, he was right here. In Karakura, where Ichigo had grown up. What were the chances?
It could only mean one thing: fate wanted them to meet again. But Renji was ruining it all by walking away and saying all these hurtful things. Did he really mean it? Surely he didn't. He wanted to run up to Renji again and stop him, but he knew that was useless. The redhead was as stubborn as he was, if not more.
Ichigo had a million questions in his head. His life had just been tossed upside down in a matter of seconds, and he hadn't the slightest clue what to do about it. He felt...lost.
A soft beep from his watch told him that he was going to be late for work. Confused and angry as he was, Ichigo knew he had no choice but to leave now. Damned if he knew how he was going to go through his lessons with his mind fried like this, but he would do what he could.
Two hours later, he realized that he couldn't do anything. He was late for his first lesson, and he had blabbered like an idiot in class. He saw the concerned frowns on his students' faces, but he couldn't slow down. He had to keep going, otherwise he was going to break down again, and this time, he didn't know if he could pick himself up.
Then his lessons ended, and he was faced with two hours of desk time, which he was supposed to use to grade papers. He tried, but the pieces of paper weren't making any sense. The answers didn't seem to fit the questions, the kids' handwriting all seem like chicken scratch and he could hardly read them. He bit back a groan and clutched his pen tighter in his fist.
The sound of someone clearing their throat jolted Ichigo out of his thoughts, and he jumped in his seat, startled.
"Are you alright, Kurosaki-sensei?"
Ichigo turned to see the school principle peering at him, his brows drawn together in concern and curiosity.
"I'm fine, thank you, Hitsugaya-kouchou," Ichigo replied hastily. His young superior wasn't hostile, but he carried an intimidating aura with him despite his short stature and boyish face.
The school principal wrinkled his nose skeptically. "Excuse me for my bluntness, but you look quite ill," he said.
It was only then did Ichigo notice that his palms were clammy and ice-cold, and now that he noticed it, he also felt nauseous and light-headed.
"You should take the rest of the day off," Hitsugaya insisted sternly. "It won't do if the children caught something from you." He sounded cold, but Ichigo could see the worry in the principal's eyes, and he found himself agreeing.
With a weak smile, Ichigo swept his books and papers into his briefcase and stood up. Hitsugaya gave him a curt nod and walked away, leaving Ichigo to stumble his way out of the staff room on unsteady legs.
Ichigo slid into the driver's seat in his car and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He hated the fact that he had let his personal issues affect his professional life, but he just couldn't pull himself together. How could he? He had just found out that someone whom he had mourned for over three years was in fact alive and kicking, and it didn't help that Renji was being such an asshole. Was it true, that he was nothing but a "convenient toy" to Renji?
And then Ichigo paused as he thought of something; did Starrk know that Renji was alive?
At the thought of his former roommate, Ichigo straightened up in his seat. Starrk. Fine, if Renji refused to talk to him, he could always ask Starrk. After all, Starrk had been the one to tell him about Renji's "death". Of course, it was possible that Renji had been hiding from Starrk, and even from the police, but it seemed highly unlikely.
Ichigo needed answers, and he needed them now. With a firm grip on the gear stick, he threw the car in reverse and peeled out of the school parking lot.
"One more, please," Renji rasped, waving to catch the bartender's attention. A cold bottle was placed in front of him in a matter of seconds, and he reached out for it at once.
It was pathetic how easily he had fallen back to his old habit. He hadn't touched alcohol in years, but here he was, back at a bar to drown his sorrows. He felt sick inside for being so damn weak, but he didn't know what else to do. After leaving Ichigo at the sidewalk, he had hurried back to Ukitake's house and spent the rest of the day painting the house, focusing on places that needed it the most. He had wanted to paint the entire place, but now that his time here was cut short, he'd just have to do what he could. He knew his recent behavior was making the older couple worried, but they were too polite to ask him about it. They would know eventually; he would have to tell them in the next couple of days that he was leaving. They would no doubt ask why, and where he was going. He would just have to lie. Again.
It was a terrible habit - lying. One lie simply led to another, and the next thing he knew, his life was nothing but a badly spun web, and now his web was falling apart. He had done what he did thinking that it was a way for Ichigo to leave all those bad memories behind completely, and, well, what could be more absolute than his death? With him out of the picture, the boy could have a fresh beginning - that was what he had thought.
And look how great that had turned out.
The bitter liquid burned as it slid down Renji's throat, but he liked the heat it brought to his insides. He could feel his muscles relax as the warmth spread quickly to his entire body. A part of him felt ashamed for indulging in this temporary escape, but it was an escape nonetheless.
Before he knew it, that second bottle was dry, and he fished out his wallet to count his money. One more; he could afford one more, then he would have to drag his sorry ass back and hope that Ukitake won't catch him looking like that. He took out the amount he needed and placed the bills on the counter, then he called for the bartender.
"Make that two."
Renji didn't have to turn around to know who that was. Blowing out a sigh, he closed his eyes. He just couldn't catch a break.
"You haven't changed one bit," Ichigo said softly. "I knew I'd find you in a bar. Good thing Karakura doesn't have many."
There was no point avoiding the confrontation this time. "Good for you," Renji said, his voice equally low. "Now leave me alone."
"No." Ichigo climbed onto the bar stool next to Renji and planted himself there.
Renji shot him a glare, then turned away as his drink arrived. Ichigo's arrived as well, and the two of them drank in silence. Tension climbed, as did the awkwardness between them, but neither spoke. Renji, for his part, had no idea what he could say. Obviously his pathetic attempt at pushing the boy away with insults didn't work. What could he do then, apologize? He chortled inwardly. That would totally fly.
He didn't know what was going on inside Ichigo's head, but the kid seemed to be equally at a loss for words. Renji risked brief glances at Ichigo as he drank; the younger man appeared deep in thought with a scowl plastered on his face. Ichigo's bottle was only half empty, but his face was already pink. Renji couldn't help smiling to himself. It was almost funny to see how easily the kid got red in the face from alcohol.
But by the time Ichigo finished his second bottle, it wasn't so funny anymore. They still hadn't said anything to each other, but Ichigo was beginning to giggle quietly to himself. Renji frowned; the kid didn't look drunk, but at the pace he was going, he was well on his way.
"Stop it," Renji said before he could stop himself. Had Ichigo not learned his lesson? After all that happened, how could he still sit here, at a fucking bar, drinking with Renji, of all people? He was either really stupid, or he was doing this to spite Renji. If it was the latter, it was definitely working.
Ichigo lifted his head and grinned at Renji. His eyes were red, but they were bright and alert. "Stop what?" he asked.
Renji's hand shot out and snatched the bottle out of Ichigo's grasp. "This."
"I'm not drunk," Ichigo scoffed. "Gimme."
"Stop it!" Renji slammed his palm on the counter, causing several heads to turn his direction. "Go home."
Ichigo's grin widened. "Make me."
Renji sucked in a deep breath. Just what in hell was Ichigo doing? First he weeped in the morning, now he's trying to provoke him? "Fine," Renji hissed. "Stay, then." With that, he grabbed his jacket and stalked towards the exit.
He hadn't gotten three steps away from the bar before his wrist was captured in an iron grip.
"I love you," Ichigo blurted, looking pleadingly into Renji's eyes. "Don't go."
Renji's breath caught in his throat. "Love?" he said in disbelief. With a quick twist of his hand, he tore his wrist from Ichigo's grasp. "You're stupider than I thought."
Ichigo frowned, but set his lips in a thin, stubborn line. "I know what I'm doing," he said fiercely. "And I know that I love you, even if it doesn't make sense to you."
"You don't know anything about love!" Renji exploded. How could anyone be so fucking stupid? Couldn't Ichigo see that he was scum?
Ichigo's eyes darkened.
"I do," Ichigo said. Despite his effort to keep his emotions in check, his body was beginning to shake. "Love is when you're willing to die for that person. Love is when you think you're protecting them by pretending that you're dead!"
He felt a surge of satisfaction when Renji's face paled.
"I know everything," he continued. "Starrk told me everything, Renji."
Renji stiffened. "Son of a bitch!"
Ichigo stepped forward. "Don't you talk about Starrk like that," he warned. "He has done more than enough for both of us."
And he had indeed. Ichigo just didn't realize how much until just now. He had raced home from school and searched through his emails for Starrk's contact information, then he had called the man's cell phone, long distance call charges and time difference be damned.
The moment Starrk heard the tone in Ichigo's voice, he knew. The man had fallen silent, so silent, in fact, that Ichigo thought the line had dropped. Then Starrk had sighed and told Ichigo everything - how Renji had put himself between Shuuhei and Ichigo, how he had had to be resuscitated at the scene, how he had ended up in prison, how he had looked forward to Starrk's monthly visits just to hear about Ichigo's life.
Ichigo couldn't begin to imagine what kind of strain this had been on his former roommate, keeping secrets for and from two heartbroken friends and keeping them both sane at the same time. What a balancing act that must have been.
"That's what he thinks," Renji said stubbornly. "I only saved you to reduce my sentence."
"You're a lousy liar," Ichigo pointed out.
Renji raised his voice. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"I want you to stop running away!" Ichigo yelled back, his patience wearing out.
At his outburst, a few people stopped to gawk at the two of them. They were standing on the sidewalk right outside the bar after all.
"Screw this." Ichigo closed the distance between him and Renji and grabbed the man's wrist before he could protest. Shooting their audience a glare, he dragged the redhead behind him. Renji struggled, but Ichigo simply dug his fingers into the man's skin and kept pulling him towards his car.
"Let…me…go!" Renji grunted.
Ichigo stopped and spun around. "We are going to settle this tonight, one way or another," he hissed in Renji's face. The redhead flinched, and then his shoulders slumped, and Ichigo was able to wrestle him into the passenger seat of his car. After he slammed the door closed, Ichigo stood there and eyed Renji warily. Was Renji going to bolt as soon as he moved away? As if he could sense what Ichigo was thinking, the redhead rolled his eyes and flung up his hands.
Ichigo smiled. This was a start, he supposed. Still keeping an eye on the passenger door, he circled to the driver's seat and slid in. His car was parked close to the bar; their audience were still peering at them through the window, eyes full of curiosity and amusement. Ichigo supposed they couldn't be blamed - it wasn't every day you see a man with fiery red hair arguing with another guy with bright orange hair.
Ichigo started up the engine, and Renji bolted upright in his seat, his hand flying to the door handle.
"Relax," Ichigo sighed. "I'm just going to move the car somewhere with less people." He gestured to the gawkers with his head. After a few seconds, Renji nodded grudgingly.
Ichigo didn't really have a place in mind. He drove slowly through the downtown area and finally found a parking lot that looked promising. It was surrounded by retail stores, which were now closed. He turned into the dimly-lit space and parked the car. He let the engine idle; without the low rumbling sound, the car would be too silent.
For the longest time, neither looked at each other or spoke. Ichigo gripped the steering wheel like it was a lifeboat and stared at his dashboard. His heart was hammering like crazy, he swore Renji could hear it.
"A-are you okay?" Renji's tentative question broke the silence. "I think...I think you're hyperventilating."
Ichigo held his breath and lifted his head. Was he? He must be; he felt dizzy. Instead of replying, he rested his temple on the steering wheel, his head tilted to the side to face Renji. The redhead didn't look too good himself; he had a sheen of sweat on his face, and his hair was damp and matted to his scalp.
"You kept your hair short," Ichigo mumbled, feeling a little wistful. He liked Renji's long hair.
Renji chuckled. "And you grew yours out."
It felt more than a little surreal sitting here having a conversation with someone whom, in his head, had been dead for years, Ichigo decided. He had so many questions, though a lot of them were already answered by Starrk, but he didn't know where to begin.
"I'm sorry," Renji said suddenly. He looked at Ichigo, looking as lost as Ichigo felt.
"It's okay" didn't seem to be the appropriate response here; Ichigo could tell from Renji's eyes that he only blurted out the apology because he didn't know what else to say. What happened between them, to Ichigo, was not something that could be swept away with a simple apology. Ichigo didn't know what he was expecting, really, or what he wanted from Renji. He just knew that he couldn't let him go.
"I really do love you," he found himself saying, then cringed when Renji's eyes narrowed.
"Don't say that," Renji said flatly.
Ichigo frowned. "Why not? It's the truth," he said. "You know that."
Renji clenched his jaw. He looked as though he was torn between hitting Ichigo and jumping out of the car.
"And you love me," Ichigo decided to go for broke. It wasn't like things could get any worse.
"I don't," came the robotic response.
If Starrk hadn't told him about what Renji had done over the years, Ichigo would have felt less confident about this, but Starrk had. "Nobody dies for a 'toy'," Ichigo said.
"I told you, I only did it to reduce my sentence," Renji insisted.
Ichigo blew out an exasperated breath. "You never were any good at lying, Renji," he said. "I always knew when you were lying. You think I didn't know that something was off when I woke up not remembering what happened the night before? You think I really believe that I got drunk?"
That seemed to have hit a nerve, because Renji suddenly grabbed his head and bent over in his seat. Ichigo sat up, knowing instantly that he had gone overboard. Renji had his fingers tangled tightly in his hair like he wanted to pull it out, and he was shaking and making small choking sounds. It was scary to see someone with Renji's built trying to curl himself into a ball, but it was especially scary because it looked so familiar. Ichigo had done that countless times himself during the early phase of his sessions with Dr. Hirako, when he would break down sometimes and scream himself hoarse.
Ichigo did the only thing he could think of. He scrambled over the divider between the driver's and passenger's seat, nearly tripping over the gear stick, and grabbed Renji's shoulders. It was a near impossible task; the space was already cramped with just Renji sitting there, and now Ichigo was trying to squeeze himself between the dashboard and Renji. He knew he was stepping on Renji's feet and his knees were digging into Renji's thighs, but he was desperate. His head bumped into the ceiling of the car, and then he was finally there, half-crouched, half-sitting on Renji's lap in the most awkward and uncomfortable position he had ever been in his life.
"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ichigo whispered, trying to pry Renji's hands away from his head. He could see broken strands of hair in Renji's fists, and the redhead was still tugging. "Stop it, stop!" Ichigo gave up on pulling Renji's fingers and instead closed his own palms over Renji's hands and brought their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated frantically.
He didn't know what to do. Dr. Hirako always knew what to do when Ichigo went into this state, but Ichigo wasn't a doctor and he had no idea how to snap Renji out of it. The fact that Renji was so quiet made Ichigo even more worried; he would feel better if Renji was screaming or crying, but these weird strangled groans was making him scared. Using as much strength as he dared without hurting the redhead, he lifted Renji's head and looked closely into the red-rimmed eyes. Renji's eyes were unfocused, and his skin was clammy and cold.
"Look at me," Ichigo said. "Look at me!" The pleas went unheeded, and Ichigo was getting close to sobbing himself. In desperation, he wrapped his arms around Renji's shoulders and hugged the redhead to his chest. He didn't know what good this would do, but it seemed like a natural thing to do. Hugs were supposed to calm people, right?
Ichigo rubbed Renji's back in little circles and rubbed his cheek against the redhead's hair. Ichigo's head was pressing against the car ceiling, and his neck was bent in an odd angle because Renji was still sort of hunched over in the seat, and he had one knee on Renji's thigh and the other knee on the seat between Renji's legs. They were basically a messy tangle of limbs, and Ichigo's muscles were beginning to protest. He let go of Renji for a bit and fumbled blindly for the lever that lowered the back of the car seat. He found it after a few tries, and the car seat suddenly fell back, taking Renji and Ichigo along with it.
Renji fell silent after the sudden movement. Ichigo gently pried the redhead's hands away from his hair, and this time Renji let him. He stared at the large calloused palms in his hand for a moment, feeling a strong urge to kiss them. After a moment's hesitation, he did. He felt Renji's body stiffen when he pressed his lips into the cold palms. Ichigo looked up; Renji was staring at him intently with something like shock and confusion in his eyes.
That's when Ichigo knew exactly what he wanted to do. He let Renji's hands drop down to his sides and crawled a little higher so that his face was directly on top of Renji's. He met Renji's gaze for a brief moment, then he closed his eyes and leaned down. Slowly, lightly, he brushed his lips against Renji's eyebrows, then down to the redhead's eyelids, which had fluttered closed at his first touch. He lingered there for a few seconds, then, taking a deep breath, he pressed his lips on Renji's.
It was just a peck, then he pulled away.
Renji had opened his eyes and was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Was he disgusted? Did he like it? Was he going to run away? Ichigo couldn't tell. So he did it again, this time holding his lips there for a little longer. And then again, and again. With each kiss, he felt his heart pump a little faster. His felt heat creep onto his cheeks; he knew he must be blushing.
The entire time, Renji didn't move a muscle. Ichigo wasn't sure if this was a good sign, but at least he hadn't been thrown off yet. He grew bolder with the next kiss and ran his tongue along Renji's lips. He got a small reaction this time - Renji jumped a little like he was startled. Encouraged by it, he licked between Renji's lips again, trying to coax the redhead to open his mouth.
For the longest time Renji didn't move. Ichigo was going to give up, but then he suddenly felt the lips part just a tiny bit. That was enough; he delved in and sucked on Renji's lower lip, then he slowly slid his tongue between those lips.
Renji let out a soft moan. Ichigo had never heard anything so erotic in his life. He replied with a groan of his own, then he deepened the kiss. It was suddenly unbearably hot in the car; his face, especially, was burning, and he was on fire inside his clothes. He fumbled for the hem of Renji's t-shirt and, when he found it, slipped his hand inside. Renji's body was just as hot; he was a little slimmer than Ichigo remembered, but his torso was smooth and firm and felt perfect under Ichigo's palm.
Ichigo hadn't felt so aroused in a very long time. His hand snaked lower to Renji's jeans and began to tug at the button. It gave way after a few tries, then his fingers scrambled for the zipper. He was aching inside his own pants but he wanted to feel Renji so badly that he didn't care. He breathed harshly against Renji's neck and shuddered when he felt warm hands sliding up his sides. Finally, finally, Renji was responding the way he wanted. Ichigo angled his head and nipped on the soft skin on the redhead's neck. He heard a gasp, then the gasp turned into a drawn out moan when he caressed Renji through his boxers.
This was too much. Ichigo pulled his hands away from Renji and began to undo his own jeans. A few hard tugs brought it down to his thighs, and he immediately pressed their hips together. Renji moaned and bucked beneath him, the friction and sound wringing a growl from the back of Ichigo's throat. He rolled his hips in response, meeting Renji's upward movements. Every touch, every sound was going straight to the pool of heat between his legs, which was building and building at an alarming rate.
But all that came to abrupt end when Renji suddenly whispered, "Orihime."
Ichigo's eyes widened, and he jumped up so high that the back of his head bumped into the car ceiling. Everything in Renji's lust-glazed eyes screamed that he wanted anything but stop, yet he was quickly tucking himself into his pants and pulling on the zipper.
Ichigo had never felt so big of an asshole as he was feeling now. How could he have forgotten?
"I'm sorry," Renji said, not meeting Ichigo's eyes. He was already fully dressed, his t-shirt smoothened down and his messy hair tamed slightly. "I've made a lot of mistakes, I can't make another one."
"I'll fix it," Ichigo said, knowing exactly what he needed to do.
His tone made Renji look up, and when Renji saw the determined set of his jaw, the redhead paled immediately. "No, no you can't do this," Renji sputtered in dismay. "No, no, Ichigo, please!"
Ichigo finished buckling his belt and climbed back over to the driver's seat. "This is my problem now, Renji," he said without looking at the redhead. Then, he shifted the gear into reverse and backed out of the parking lot.
It turned out that Ichigo was familiar with Ukitake's house, and it took them less than ten minutes to get there. He stopped the car and waited for Renji to get out. The redhead tried, again, to talk him out of what he was going to do, but his heart was already set. It was not a matter of choice, Ichigo didn't see why Renji just couldn't get it.
He refused to meet Renji's eyes and simply waited until Renji climbed out and closed the car door, then he sped off. His next step was simple.
Renji stumbled into his room and went straight to the closet. He grabbed his backpack and started to throw his clothes into it. His hands shook as he tried his best to compress everything into his tiny bag. He would have to apologize to Ukitake; his time had run out and he would have to leave the painting task only partially finished. Hopefully someone else would pick it up next time. At least he had gotten to the worst parts.
It was a good thing that he hadn't accumulated many new things since his arrival, and after some wrestling, he managed to fit his belongings into his bag. He swung it over one shoulder and practically ran out the door.
He was good at running.
To be continued...
Who do you feel worse for? Ichigo or Renji?