Slight fat-bashing, and slight people-named-carl-bashing.

Chapter Four

Ichigo walked down the hallways, cradling his swollen cheek with a cold ice bag that Ishida had given him when he had left the infirmary. When he had woken up this morning Ishida had told him he should take some more time off work, but Ichigo was reluctant, and had decided that he would rather be in pain around Shiro, than be painless sitting on his butt at home alone. Really, to Ichigo, being without Shiro was painful itself. He was a sad individual, he knew that. Ichigo was so dependent on his albino master now, that if he was ever to be away from the other man for a long length of time he would surely kill himself or chase Shiro down until he found him. He was that obsessed, and obsession is a dangerous thing.

He wasn't the only one like that, though. Many of the people, if not all of them, were mistreated by their master, but they just couldn't leave him. There was no way out of his contagious attitude.

Ichigo sighed as he entered through the door to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling its dislike with the low amount of food Ichigo was consuming lately. The kitchen was clean and sparkely like normal, the maids were fantastic here. The orange man walked into the kitchen area where many of the chefs and cooks were busy bustling around getting lunch ready. Ichigo still hadn't eaten breakfast, so he had decided to come here and eat even if it was late. He was too afraid to pass out, so Ichigo wasn't taking any chances.

"Hey Renji." Ichigo stood next to his red-headed friend who was mixing some ingrediants in a large metal bowl with a wooden spoon. A few splatters of the contents were stained upon the once white apron the covered the front of Renji's large body.

"Hey Ichigo, feeling better?" Renji continued to mix, but he still looked at Ichigo while he did it.

"Yeah, thanks. Is there anything left over from breakfast that I can have? I'm starving."

Renji stopped his mixing for a moment and looked away from Ichigo in deep thought. His forehead wrinkled and Ichigo almost laughed at the weird facial expressions he made. Hopefully all chefs weren't so ridiculous like Renji was.

"Sure Ichigo." Renji walked over to a refrigerator and pulled out some batter wrapped up in a bowl. "I can whip you up some pancakes real fast if you'd like."

Ichigo smiled and walked over to a small card table that the workers used to eat at. It was small and worn, and it paled in comparison to Shiro's wooden table that he ate at every morning. It didn't really matter though, after all, it was only a table.

Ichigo watched at his friend as he poured the contents onto a frying pan to get the pancakes started. He drummed his fingertip on the table restlessly, and Ichigo's stomach made a noise of disapproval.

"Wow, sounds like you really are hungry."

Ichigo laughed. "Don't even get me started on that. My stomach is having a conniption fit over here."

"I see." He flipped the now-forming pancakes on their uncooked side quickly and then turned back to look at Ichigo.

"Yeah. So, how's it been? How's life for you and all?"

Renji laughed and leaned against the counter. "Everything's fine on my end. I miss seeing my family all day every day, but work is work I guess."

Ichigo had totally forgotten about Renji having a family at home. He had a wife, two kids, and his mother was living with him because she was having some sort of medical problem. He really did have a full schedule since he was working as a personal chef for Shiro. Well, Shiro did pay well and Ichigo figured Renji did need the large paycheck to support everyone.

"I wouldn't understand." Ichigo really wouldn't know anything about having a family like that. He had moved in with Shiro as soon as he had gotten this job, which was years ago. He remembered his dad, and his two adorable sisters that were fraternal twins, but that was about it concerning his family. Any aunts and uncles he might have had, Ichigo wouldn't have known about them.

"Ah, it's alright. We'll make it somehow." Ichigo smiled at his optimistic friend and watched as his pancakes were plated and syrup was placed on the table for his disposal.

"Here ya are Ichigo. Eat up! I gotta get back to work, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Ichigo almost groaned when the pancakes were placed in front of his, the smell wafting up so that he could smell it in all of it's pancake glory.

Ichigo grabbed the syrup and poured a generous amount onto his pancakes. "Yeah, see ya later."

Renji walked off to yell at some lower level cooks, and Ichigo enjoyed his pancake brunch with delight. What a nice way to start his morning.

Shiro couldn't stand coming to these meetings. Right now someone in alliance with his gang was trying to get someone to convert onto their alliance, and so all sorts of higher ups were needed to be here, Shiro included. He was the leader of Hollow, after all. The gang his best friend and him had started back in...sixth grade? It's been so long he forgot nowadays.

"...and so with these documents signed we welcome you into our alliance." The short stocky man across the table from his stood to shake hands with the ex-hostile, new alliance gang member. He was freaky tall, super skinny, and wore an eye-patch over his left eye. Can anyone say 'obvious gang leader'? Shiro could have sniffed him out miles away.

"Shirosaki, please greet our newest member." The stocky midget gently nudged Shiro out of his thoughts. Shiro didn't even know that bastard's name. He quickly glanced at the paper name-tag that was required to be worn by everyone, Shiro included. Shiro almost laughed when he read the name: Carl. It fit that fat bastard well.

The albino stood and held his hand out to shake with the tall, skinny, spoon-man who was now grinning at him wildly.

"'Sup? I'm Shirosaki, Shiro fer short. Only the fat-asses 'round 'ere call me by my full name."

He laughed and Shiro felt chills creep up his spine. This guys laugh was...creepy to say the least. It was the kind of laugh that serial kills used, or maybe a laugh that the people who pushed babies down staircases used. Something normal people would certainly run away from.

" 'M, Nnorita. Nice ta meet'cha Whitey."

"'Ey, 'ey. Fuck you! Don' call me tha'." Shiro growled. Nnorita smirked and let his long, thin fingers run through Shiro's equally white hair. Shiro then pushed the taller man away, cussing up a storm and he angrily made his exit out of the building the meeting had been held in. It was a special place, owned by mobsters and gangsters. That way, police wouldn't come and thrown their asses into jail.

"This is the beginning of a beautiful partnership." Carl sighed happily as he finished signing the piles of documents that Nnorita and his gang had only finished signing moments ago. Surely with this alliance together, they could finally hold their own against those damn Shinigami...