There's no more of me struggling to grow up faster. I've grown up – I think I've been an adult since fifteen. I think killing does that to a person. I was still a dumb fuck at that age, but lots of older people are too.

I'm a man. It's strange to think that way, because I don't feel like my mind ever made this snap-lightning shift, but yeah, I'm a man. Grown-ass man. I'm here at this place that I've waited to come to for ages, and it's not as great as I thought it'd be. I've wanted to be a man for so long, but it doesn't feel like I thought it would. I'm the person I want to be, but that doesn't make my life sunshine and rosie fucks.

I feel tough, I feel strong, I feel capable, but god, I've got too much energy, just like I did when I was a kid. I'm not gonna' bug the fuck outta' you asking to play and shit anymore, though. Nah, I wanna' fight. I wanna' fight all the damn time. I've got too much steam to blow off, too much potential going to waste. I'm all grown up and have been for a long time, I'm strong like I always wanted to be, I'm on my own two feet, but fuck, am I bored.

I don't talk much between battles when we're walking anymore, cause I don't got anything to say really, other than a heart full of hate at this fucking place and frustration at the weak men here. With me not talking and you not talking, it's pretty damn quiet between us.

I'm not a little kid anymore, and I can see that being an adult doesn't mean knowing everything, it doesn't mean you knew everything, but at the time, you sure made me feel like you did, and I'm glad you did that. A kid shouldn't grow up in fear. You didn't know the answers, you knew jack shit what to do about me most of the time. You just did the best you could with what you had and the situation you were in. It was fucked up and it still is, but I'm not messing in your life anymore. I'm not a young guy who thinks he can be a hero for you. These are your demons to overcome and nothing and no one can save you from them but you. Pisses me off, but that's it.

You didn't know everything, you never did. I know better now. There's a twist in your brain that makes you honestly think you're right, that your rationale is right, and that makes it okay to you. You're crooked and you believe these crooked things that you're telling yourself, but you're not right. You're not right about so many things, these things that you believe with all your heart, so many things that it's fucking ridiculous, but I'm not about to beat sense into you. I'm not laying one fucking finger on you. It wouldn't accomplish nothing. That'd just prove me to be another one of those assholes that you need to get away from.

I dunno' why you're even still here. I've grown up, right? So shoo. You did all you could for me an' you don't have to hang around from some sense of sick masochistic obligation. You know that you can't interfere in my battles, so it's not because you're thinking you want to save me one day or something. Why don't you just fuck off somewhere? Why don't you go, Yumichika? I know it fucks you up to watch me get beat on, so why stick around and view the wreckage?

I walk in front of you now, and each day you could decide to just stop following, but I never know if that day has come until the end of the night when we make camp and it turns out you were there all along. When we travel, I never look back. I don't look back like you did at me. I'm proud. This is the man I've become.

A doubtless warrior.

I wonder why you follow back there. Why don't you leave if you're not gonna' be at my side? Why do you bother? I'm walking in front of you all the fucking time, every damn day. Why don't you walk next to me anymore?

Alright, I won't fucking kid myself. You don't feel equal to me, and I guess I don't feel equal to you either. I know I've surpassed you in strength by a lot, but I'm sure you could catch up. It's only because I'm always fighting the good ones myself and leaving the small chewy fucks for you if you even feel like fighting. I've surpassed you, but you could catch up if you tried. I'd help you out, Yumichika. Don't just fall behind like that. Don't feel like I don't care. I know you hear me shit-talking the scrawny ones that beg for their lives, but don't you know? Don't you know that I still would let you walk next to me as my comrade?

That shit seems obvious, so I don't say it out loud. You already know, for sure. You have to. You must know, why wouldn't you? It must be for some other shit-reason. Whatever. Do what you want.

I didn't remember how quiet you were when I was younger until I hear the silence again. One day you just went quiet in the middle of a sentence and just stopped there and didn't start again. I'm listening, though. I've told you that before, I shouldn't need to remind you again, right? Maybe you just don't feel like talking anymore, I get it. It's fine. You didn't feel like it when I was younger either.

Still, that shit makes me restless like you wouldn't believe. I'm itching for a good fight, but you could calm that right down if you wanted to. Tell me about Momotarou again, c'mon, one more time.

You're a sad guy, aren't you? Not sad-pathetic, but sad-depressed. At times you seemed okay in the past, but looking back, I can tell it was an act. You're fighting something. You've got some serious shit to work through, and it's obviously been there in your head for a long time, longer than you've known me. Your head's fucked up. You're a tortured soul that somehow didn't become a hollow. Maybe I'm like that too.

Maybe I was like that, but you taught me self-control, you taught me how to deal with my emotions and my fits of rage, you taught me how to channel my tears and shame into something else, into something productive like violence, like passion and a drive to win and to prove something. You taught me distractions, coping mechanisms, but did it ever really take my pain away?

Maybe you're like that too.

I dunno' if I'm happy either anymore. I was when I was younger, I'm sure of that. You were my whole world, you pretty fuck. You were a shining star, but as I grew up, I realized that that star was just the reflection of the cold moon off of dark turbulent waves.

Nah, I'm not happy with my life. I'm on an endless journey, and I get little bits of freedom every time I'm fighting for my life, through slick and greasy. I can't see an answer yet. I just want a bigger badder fight, and it'll come to me. The answer will come. How can I be happy in a place like this with a person like you with a dream like I have? You submit, you settle for this, you lay on your back and show your belly to these circumstances you were born in, but not me. I will never be satisfied as long as we're like this.

I will never be satisfied with the life we live.

Don't fucking back-talk me or try to change my mind. Get out of my face, get out of my head, get your noise out of my ears. I don't wanna' fucking hear what you think. I'm doing this regardless. I've decided and that's it. I don't wanna' hear 'are you sure about this' - of course I'm fucking sure. I decided, didn't I? That's it. That's what you showed me about decisions and that's what I believe too. You wanted me to have conviction, and I do. So get out of my fucking face.

Sheesh... I need another fight before I bite off your head. You don't need me snapping at you. You've got every man in the world snappin' at your pretty heels, but that's not gonna' be me too.

Fine, we'll rest a little. I'm sure you're tired by now. The sun's almost down. I make a fire, and there you are, finally sitting down where I can see you. I've been in front of you all day, but now you catch up. Now that I'm finally holding still for a minute to do something, you move where I can see you. You smile a little. It doesn't go to your eyes. I still like to look at your face. You're the only nice thing to look at in this whole place.

I gotta' go stretch my legs, never mind that I've been walking all day. I need to be bone-tired to be able to relax, and I still have so much energy. I gotta' burn this off. I want sake and pork, and I'm gonna' go get it right now. That should be interesting enough.

"I'll be back. I'm getting us meat tonight," I say. You get up again, and I just look at you. I want you to rest your ankles, I want you to stay here where there are no other men, but I don't say anything.

"I'll come too."

"I don't want ya' to come," I say immediately, staring you down, and I mean it. "I'll be right back. Just gotta' bully a shop-keep."

Your face tenses up like you hurt yourself, but I just turn and go. I'm not discussing this with you. I know you're following anyway. Damnit, just rest for a while. I can't sit still, but that doesn't mean you have to share my curse.

We have a fun night like we used to for once. It's nice. We play a buncha' card games and then pass out around three o' clock. I miss doing shit like that with you, but I don't offer. If you're up for it, you'll offer on your own.

Next day's much of the same. God, I fucking hate this place. It's so damn ugly out here. Why do those fucking soldiers even bother coming out here to patrol for hollows? They come out here to wreck shops and rape women and help themselves to booze, and they think they're entitled to do it because they killed a couple of monsters that were a little bigger than the monsters they already are. If they really wanted to be helpful, they'd just burn the place down and start over fresh with nice houses like in district one.

Anything other than showing up and slaughtering people to 'balance' out with the souls in the living world. Saving those souls and bringing them here, just to kill them again and send them back… it's fucking insane. I'll never be like them. There's not a man in the world t'could convince me otherwise.

I consider it once when I hear that their swords share a piece of their soul, and that they can get more powerful by synchronizing. I'm sure I have the discipline for something like that. If there's one thing I've got, it's grit.

Fuck it though, I still won't be a shinigami. I hold my own sword a little tighter even time I see one of them. If I did become one of those death-soldiers and take a zanpakutou, I'd have to give this sword up - and I'll never do that. There's no soul in this sword, but it's got heart in it.

You paid so much for this damn thing, and I know how much you musta' wanted me to have this to have worked for that much. I'm gonna' put miles on this damn thing before it sees its end. There's heart in this blade. I won't touch you, but I can touch this, and I'm never letting this fucking thing go. You put so much into this sword, and I'm gonna' put all my passion and drive into it too.

That way, even if you do decide to fuck off somewhere and quit following me around, when I meet my end, when I finally become the best, when I get that final battle, you'll be with me even if you're not there.

My friends have disappeared over the years, either getting tired of me always wanting to fight other dudes instead of going woman-hunting, or else they died for some reason or other. If they couldn't understand my ambition, then I guess they weren't the type of friends I wanted, but I miss having some of them around a little from time to time. I miss their stupid faces when they were drunk or them slapping my back and stuff. I feel like my heart needed that when I was younger, but I don't need it now. I'm past that.

I don't miss them enough to make new friends. They'd just get in the way of my new life. I don't know if I could make friends if I tried, or if I even want to. I don't like people. Women are scared of me, and kids are too. Men either don't make eye contact or get too cocky and end up bleeding. Only person that my heart's got room for is you, I guess. I wonder if it's because you're different or just because I've been with you for so long. It doesn't really fucking matter which reason it is, because it's true either way. There's no more room in this heart. You've grown too big in there.

It's hot as fuck and I don't wanna' wear anything more than I gotta'. I hate this goddamn place. There's no decent sake anywhere, and no one knows the meaning of quality penmanship. I can barely read the names on the damn shops, their handwriting's so fucked. Even I could do better if ya' gave me a brush.

I fucking hate this place so much. There's too many perverted men here, there's too many drunks, too many cheats, too many murderers, too many dead little girls in the woods.

There's too many people out here who are helping you in your quest to destroy yourself. Mine too.

You told me all my life that love doesn't exist like that, but you're the one who's been looking for it all this time, and in all the wrong places. Stop, I'd give anything, I wish I had some words to give that could make you open your eyes to how beautiful you are and how much you deserve that isn't this. I know you don't feel like that person. You call yourself beautiful and have such disdain for dirt and ugly things, but it's because that's how you feel inside, isn't it. You hate yourself. You hate yourself, and that's why you treat yourself so bad.

I want you to get away from that life, from the drugs, from the dirty men who are gonna' fuck up your health. I want you get away from the hell in your head. Your subconscious mind is seeking out people who make you feel worse and worse and it's so fucking sick. You're gonna' lay down with as many people as you can to try to feel something, but it won't work, Yumichika. This I know.

You're trying to light a candle with all of these wet matches. Use some fucking flint, goddamnit. You don't need matches.

I hope that someday you'll see that, but I know you're too old now, you've been doing this far too long to ever break the habit, and I can't break it for you. I won't be another link in these chains you're wrapping around your neck.

We go into the bar like always, and I sit and order at the counter, I size up the biggest guys and survey for weapons that look promising. I check women too, because I never know for sure if they might feel like fighting a little. Some of the best fights I have are with young women. They don't slack on their technique, that's for sure. You drift off, and there's only one reason you drift off from me. You and a man have made eye contact. That's when I stop paying attention. I've learned not to, because if I don't look, if I don't hear or watch, I can't care as much as I would've.

When you come back in the night and I'm drinking alone by our fire, your hair part has changed, and your kimono is wrapped the other way. You look at my face for a reaction, and I just think 'another one, huh?' Your cheeks are rosy and you're still a little sweaty, but all I see is the deadness in your eyes.

You're right, love doesn't exist. Not that kind of awful love.

I've turned out to be a really angry guy. I have a temper and I always thought I wouldn't turn out to be like my good-for-nothing father, but I did. At least I don't smack girls around, but I drink, and I cuss, and I pick fights just like him, don't I. I'm angry at the world, fuck the world and fuck the people who made the world this way, fuck the people who are living here and don't do something about it.

I'm flintstone, I'm the wick of a firework, I'm a tornado, and I'm ready to blow. I'm gonna' explode and light this whole goddamn place up. It's gonna' go up in flames with me here if I keep this hell inside of me for too long. Gotta' let it out. Gotta' fight. I'm flint and it lights when the swords hit each other, it strikes when the skin breaks.

I only just killed this guy, he only just fell off my blade and the high's just barely worn off so far, but already, I'm itching like crazy. Fuck, I've gotta' have another. Why aren't there any decent fighters out here that could really make me feel like I have to try, like I actually might die if I don't fight for serious? Why isn't there anyone who could fight me so hard that it would satiate me for longer, that I could go for a week without a fix like I used to be able to?

Only thing that calms me down is alcohol and you talking. You don't talk much anymore, so that leaves shots, shots, and fuck, oh my god, who would've guessed, more shots. I want you to talk, but I don't need it. I can solve my own problems.

Booze dribbles down my chin as I take a long drag and lean back in the grass.

You raised me to stand up for myself, to not need anyone but me and my fists, and I promise, I'll never go back to how I was. I won't need anything. You wanted this for me, and it's what I want for me too now. You pushed me away from you when I wanted you to protect me so that I'd protect myself. You shut me out when I wanted your comfort so that I'd learn to comfort myself. You didn't play with me much, and I learned other ways to play. You didn't want me to need you, and I won't. I promise, I won't ever need you again.

I've come so far, and I'm the one who made it. I'm the one who did all of it, who did all of that training, but you're the one who got me here. You gave me that push, and I fell into a dead run. I learned a lot from you. You're the one that made me start to believe in something. You're the one who made me feel like I didn't have to feel small and ugly and powerless if I didn't want to, and I grew strong because of that.

What I really appreciate is that you taught me about luck. I think about when you taught me poker and about how winning consistently takes skill, and how winning out of nowhere is luck. You told me about when luck is real, when luck is from god, and when a person makes their own luck. You never said once that I was lucky to have survived. I survive because of my skill, you'd say. You'd congratulate my strength and give merits when they were due.

No, surviving isn't luck in a battle. I survive because I put in the effort to train. That's why I win. Not out of luck, but because I was the better man. If I had been defeated but survived, if the opponent had missed with his killing blow maybe that would be luck but still, I must've been able to get away somehow, and that accounted as my own skill.

Luck from chance would be finding a worthy opponent, a good fight, a good beer for a low price. Luck from god is having lightning strike around you but being left unscathed. That has nothing to do with me, and is all based on the odds or higher power. I'm glad you taught me that, because it really helped me to be proud of myself and my own accomplishments, it taught me not to rely on god or chance for help. It taught me to get shit done with my own two hands. Luck was a powerful force in my life. Like finding you. That didn't have anything to do with me or something I did, because you certainly didn't stick around because I was a nice kid or something. I wonder why you do stay. It has to be some kind of force outside of myself. My mamma always told me I had a lucky star.

I've grown and changed into this person, but you're never gonna' change from who you were, are you? You don't respect yourself. I can see that. You're the rabbit that jumped into the fire. That's how you became the moon on the black waves. You had no value for yourself and lived to serve others, and you perished.

You taught me to have a backbone, but I don't know how to give you one. I don't get how you could know how to make me into a man, how to help me with my problems, but not solve the same ones that are inside you. It should be simple, but I guess it's not. I don't want to think that you're purposefully not trying, that you actually like your fucked up life the way it is.

Want something better, want something more! Value yourself, damnit! I can think those words a thousand times, I could say them double as many, but I could never make you do those things. You have to do it yourself.

I'm harsher with you now. I want you to stick up for yourself. I want you to fight, to fight against anger and shame like you taught me to, I want you to tell me to shut up and fight back against my shit-talk and my bad attitude, but you don't. No matter how fucking far I push you, you don't push back.

You need me to save you, but I won't. You never saved me, and I'm not gonna' save you, because a man's gotta' save himself. You've gotta' save yourself now. I'm not gonna' do it for you. You don't want me to, anyways. That's not who you made me to be. That's not who I am. We're not so different, you and I.

Would you just fucking get better? Would you try harder for yourself and make a better life? Just try it and see how it feels, maybe, I don't fucking know. You're the one who taught me how to not be helpless. You'd always say it, just like that too, 'Don't be helpless, Ikkaku.' I learned how to help myself. You taught me self-respect, but you don't have any for yourself. You gave me a leg-up, but you can't give yourself a boost. You told me there's no such thing as love, and you're a self-fulfilling prophecy, since you search for those who won't love you.

Yeah, beauty's in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder's fucking blind. You're blind to the fact that there's a light so close to you, there's more for you if you'll just get an elbow out and then a knee, and then your foot, then roll, and before you know it, you'll be out of this hole.

Don't keep going to bed with those animals. It's that easy. It's that fucking easy. You have a way out, so take it. Kill them, fucking kill them and run away, run away and never stop hating your old life. Save yourself. I see the darkness in your eyes, the uncertainty and meekness in your frame, I see the sadness and how you've been broken down by life and I know something has to give.

Yumichika, you're drowning in the blackness, but why won't you fucking paddle? Save yourself, god-damnit, don't you know how to fucking swim?

Please, you're my only friend in the world.

I never knew why you looked so unsure about where we were going when you led. We're not going anywhere in particular, so there was no reason to be anxious. I'm not gonna' be like that, so I don't turn around. I just walk.

You're real quiet back there. I can't see you at all if I don't turn around. I can't hear your footsteps half the time, and sometimes it's like that for hours, but I don't turn. I don't need to turn around to know you're there. I know you're there, I don't need to check to know that. Since I know that, there's no reason to turn around - I don't need to guard my back, since you're there. You'd never let someone scar my back. What reason do I have to look behind me?

Sometimes I wonder why I'm so sure how I know you're always going to follow. I guess I don't, but if I doubt, if I falter and you're not there, it's because I'm a man who wasn't worth following. You've stayed for this long, and I'm sure that you will keep doing it. Even if you're quiet for hours and it seems like I'm alone, I won't turn around to see for sure.

You know what happened when Orpheus did that.

I know you'll follow. I've got faith in you. There's no reason to turn around, even if I start to wonder. You didn't fucking raise me to show doubt, and I'm not gonna' look back.

Falter, and you die. Hesitate, and you are lost. I haven't grown into someone who isn't sure of himself. I'm not gonna' look back, no matter what. The only time I ever turn is when I can't hear you that good, and even then I'm only tilting my ear back towards you. I wish you'd speak up a little, Yumichika. It's getting harder and harder to hear you. You've gotta' be louder to break through all this noise in my head.

"Hey, Honey, look my way," comes the jeer for the thousandth time. If I've heard them a thousand, then you've heard them ten thousand.

I don't even turn around. I can't tell what you said, but your tone of voice is promising. I know it's just early resistance though. You'll go off with him if he has coin. I know your game by now.

"Yeah, and you're about to clean it off too," the guy continues, and I know you said something about how filthy he obviously is. "Bet you like the taste of dirt, huh, you little-"

Then I grin so wide my face could split.

I heard you just then. I know an open-palmed slap when I hear it.

There's sounds of a struggle, but I don't turn around. There's shouting, and the loud guy quiets down pretty abruptly with this sick spurting noise. I can hear your heavy breathing, and then silence as we keep walking.

I'm practically glowing with pride for you, but I don't say anything. You can't do this for my merit, for my approval; you have to do this for you and you alone, so I don't say anything and I don't turn around. I don't say anything, but I'm fucking beaming.

Maybe there's hope for you. Maybe people can change. If you change for the better, I vow not to falter. I'll stay the man that you've deemed worthy of following. Of all the one-time guys you've seen, you chose me to follow and stay with, and I'm gonna' keep that special something that you saw in me.

The past doesn't change no matter how many times you look back on a memory, so I don't. They come to me occasionally when I'm reminded of something, but I don't sit around and reminisce like a sad fool. I'm focused on this future, because it's gonna' be fucking better than what we've had.

I'm walking towards that. I hope you follow me there. I hope you keep getting better too. I hope you take strength from seeing me succeed and want that for yourself too. You taught me to fly, now try to remember how to get yourself off the ground too.

I'm more than I was now. I'm strong and I'm powerful. I'm not a crybaby, I'm not a coward, I'm not lonely anymore. I fight and I will never lose. Not with you back there. You're who gave me this confidence, this faith in myself.

You made me see that I'm not a lizard-boy, I'm a dragon. That's what I've become ever since you took off my chains. I flew all on my own, but you're the one who set me free.

I have power, and anyone who has a problem with me can talk to my sword. Not that they could. No, I've come so far, and I will never be like you. I will never be like you and I know you didn't want me to be like you. You wanted more for me and I'm gonna' have it.

My steps are larger than yours are. They're surer. They're of a man unfaltering, unfailing, unyielding. I feel like a warrior, and that's what I am. I'm proud. This is who I am, because I grew up with you.

I'm proud. This is the man I've become.

This guy looks promising. Even that little pink-haired baby doesn't put me off from knowing that this'll be the best fight of my life.

I grin and feel my cheeks pinch.