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I’ve got a shovel to bury you and then me.

Summary:

“You were drunk. I figured you would prefer to be brought here instead of being dropped off for your sister to deal with. I made the right call of course. You’re….interesting when drunk.”

“Define interesting.” Ichigo told the older man.

“You talked about things.” Abruptly Yashiro’s hand stopped running through Ichigo’s hair. “You talked about being killed.”

Ichigo tried to glare at the man. It was hard. The light in the room wasn’t helping with his headache. “I was drunk.” A second went by. “If I was dead I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Yashiro observed him. When he spoke it was only one word. It wasn’t one word actually. It was a name. “Ulquiorra.”

Ichigo didn’t flinch. He didn’t yell. He was just…..here.

(There were nights where Ichigo pressed his hand onto his stomach because he swore he felt the gaping hole Ulquiorra had put in it but it wasn’t there.)

His lack of reaction gave it away none the less.

“You died…..and they left you alone.”

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Ichigo woke up to fingers stroking his hair. That was familiar. His mouth was so dry it felt as though it was full of cotton balls. Now that wasn’t familiar.

He cracked an eye open.

It was Yashiro sitting on the edge of the bed. It was his fingers dragging through Ichigo’s hair.

There was a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. Yashiro didn’t grab it. Of course not. Where was the fun in that? If would be more delightful for the man if Ichigo begged.

“Give me that water or I’m kicking you.”

Yashiro’s shoulders shook. Ichigo squinted his eyes. He was wearing yesterday’s clothes. What was wrong? Yashiro didn’t wea-

“When did you grow up to be so rude?” Despite his words, amusement made Yashiro shake from suppressed laughter.

“Sometime after you tried to drown me.” What had crawled into his mouth and died? A headache he could deal with - was dealing with at this moment - but the dry mouth? No. This was horrible.

The rim of the glass was pressed against his lips. Ichigo opened his mouth. Water filled it. He shallowed. Yashiro kept pouring water into his mouth.

Why was he in Yashiro’s bedroom? He should have been at the house with the twins only, no, that was wrong. He had been intending to be at a bar and have a hookup last night. Only he could remember being at the bar-

Water was spilling out of his mouth because Yashiro had yet to remove the glass. He could feel it dripping down his chin and into his shirt.

He wondered where White was. Had the little boy that water dripped from been killed with Zangetsu or had they somehow survived?

Ichigo swallowed and then swallowed again because Yashiro had yet to remove the glass from his lips. He contemplated how much he would regret it if he really did kick this asshole.

……Considering just what was going on in his life it wasn’t worth it.

(It wasn’t that Ichigo thought kicking Yashiro would make the man leave. No, what the man would do that made Ichigo not go through with it.)

(Yashiro liked that Ichigo fought back - he would have grown bored years ago if Ichigo didn’t - but there were rules and lines. Yashiro liked when Ichigo was physically violent towards others but never himself. Yashiro would never admit to it but he was scared of Ichigo’s strength. And why wouldn’t he be? Yashiro was many things. An idiot wasn’t one of them. Ichigo had been able to crack concrete with a kick years ago. He could easily caved in someone’s skull with one punch if he ever wanted to.)

He swallowed one last time. There was no more water left in the glass. Yashiro removed the glass of water from his lips. He sat it down on the nightstand.

“Why am I here?” He asked and Ichigo squinted his eyes. He remembered brick digging into his back as a man had been kissing him outside a bar. He remembered fingers taking off a belt. He had-

“You attacked a man last night.”

Ichigo’s eyebrows drew together. How had Yashiro known - wait. That was stupid question. Of course the man had kept an eye on Ichigo last night. He opened his mouth. It wasn’t dry right now. Before he could speak Yashiro beat him to it.

“You were drunk. I figured you would prefer to be brought here instead of being dropped off for your sister to deal with. I made the right call of course. You’re….interesting when drunk.”

“Define interesting.” Ichigo told the older man.

“You talked about things.” Abruptly Yashiro’s hand stopped running through Ichigo’s hair. “You talked about being killed.”

Ichigo tried to glare at the man. It was hard. The light in the room wasn’t helping with his headache. “I was drunk.” A second went by. “If I was dead I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Yashiro observed him. When he spoke it was only one word. It wasn’t one word actually. It was a name. “Ulquiorra.”

Ichigo didn’t flinch. He didn’t yell. He was just…..here.

(There were nights where Ichigo pressed his hand onto his stomach because he swore he felt the gaping hole Ulquiorra had put in it but it wasn’t there.)

His lack of reaction gave it away none the less.

“You died…..and they left you alone.”

It was only then Ichigo flinched. The thing was Rukia didn’t know and Chad hadn’t been aware either. Shinji hadn’t been there to begin with. Urahara also hadn’t been in Hueco Mundo. It had only been Orihime and Ishida who had been witnesses to Ulquiorra putting a cero through his-

“Why do you want to go back to people who don’t want you?” Yashiro asked and he said in kind manner but he wasn’t being kind. His intention wasn’t kindness.

Ichigo turned so he was lying on his back. The ceiling was white. The sheets on the bed were soft.

(Ichigo wondered if these were the same sheets she slept on.)

He wanted to puke.

There would be nothing to puke up. The last thing he ate was breakfast from yesterday. Yuzu had cooked it and she hadn’t needed to put her foot down that Ichigo join her at the table to eat. It had only been Yuzu and him. Dad hadn’t been at the house. Karin was still at the hospital.

(Ichigo didn’t call the hospital and ask just how many times his dad had visited.

He knew one way or another the answer would make him angry.)

“I want my powers back so I can kill Grand Fisher,” Ichigo admitted quietly and in that moment he didn’t know if it was a lie or not. He did, of course, want to kill the Grand Fisher. He had for almost two years.

He wanted it more than he had wanted to defeat Aizen. The thing was….Ichigo knew Aizen was more of a threat to his loved ones than Grand Fisher. And so he had taken that desire for revenge and set it aside because he wasn’t a child. (He knew you couldn’t get everything you wanted in life. Sometimes you had the ability to choose just what you got. Sometimes you didn’t.) Ichigo had set aside his revenge to protect those he loved even though doing so meant tearing apart his soul. Even though doing so meant sacrificing his ability to kill the Hollow who had taken his mother away from him.

The thing was Ichigo didn’t know if the Grand Fisher was the only reason he wanted his powers.

He could feel the weight of Yashiro’s stare. Ichigo continued to look at the ceiling.

“…..You once asked me why people commit violence. Have you figured out your answer?”

There was a hole in Ichigo. Looking back on it, there had been one for years. (It wasn’t something Ulquiorra’s cero had caused.)

And Ichigo was going to try and fill it by getting his powers back and killing the Grand Fisher.

The thing was Ichigo knew it wouldn’t work. Killing had never filled the void that was in Yashiro. Why would it fill him?

The thing that had fulfilled Yashiro’s life hadn’t been killing. It hasn’t been actually been a thing but rather a person. It had been Ichigo.

What Yashiro felt wasn’t love. It was just a fascination that had grown into an obsession over the years.

When Ichigo finally spoke it wasn’t to answer Yashiro’s question. “Why were you watching me last night?”