AN: Oh man, I can't believe I'm still writing this fic! Like wow gee, the shit is bananas. Haha. I just want to say thank you again for the love and support! I'm so amazed that people are sticking with this story even though I'm a piece of crap writer who sometimes updates but mostly contemplates all the things I could/should be guys are the best!

Thank you's for the last chapter:

KuroiTsuki: Thank you! :D Oh man, I'm just massacring my favorite characters left and right and I have regrets but at the same time I'm enjoying it? Am I a bad person? Kind of. Lol I just want to write all the hard stuff and then get to the happy ending. Which will be... later. ;)

nureen: I hope you're still breathing when you read this! I'm really trying to get my butt into gear and churn out something every once in a while. I think I'm succeeding? ;) Unfortunately there's only more heartbreak to go around but development too, and that's always a good thing.

mysticalpheonix-avalon: I never reply to you because I always forget that you don't allow private messaging! Haha. But thank you for all the support until now. I can't say when the sadness will end but it will. Eventually... Lol

Guest: I like having Ichigo as a 'young master' because he has all these weird skills (like knowing the language of flowers) that I get to make him use. ;) Thank you for reviewing! I hope I don't disappoint.

Guest: Everything will happen as it's meant to be. Or however my muse feels like. She's mean and like to torture both me and all of you by writing sadness. Haha. But I really hope you're enjoying the story so far. Thanks for reading~

Once again dedicated to djAngelynn because she keeps updating her fic on time but I'm a sad, useless friend who can't do anything right and was 2 months late. T^T

Chapter Seventeen: Dead Space

He'd been getting the cold shoulder for quite some time now. And not just from Rukia either. Despite her motherly warmth, Yuzu was far from pleased to hear her big brother had royally destroyed his relationship with the Kuchiki princess, and only became more distressed when she found that some of the animosity extended to her when she went with a peace offering to Rukia's apartment at the Thirteenth.

None too subtly, the gentlest Kurosaki was treading a thin line of patience with Ichigo as she served him his breakfast. She turned her nose up at him as soon as it was settled, a slight splash to his miso soup and the clatter of his chopsticks beside him were passive-aggressive but effective.

"Look, I'm sorry, Yuzu. Can't you cut me a bit of slack?" he apologized sincerely, sighing when Yuzu bit the inside of her cheek and glared at him. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was trying to help."

"Because you 'didn't mean anything by it' is probably the reason why she's mad in the first place," Yuzu scolded as she settled into her seat.

The blank confusion on his face only fed her righteousness.

"Now, now, Yuzu-chan, I do think your brother deserves some leeway," Masaki butted in, ever sweet as her daughter picked at her food.

"Thanks, 'Kaa-chan," Ichigo sighed, relieved for the support.

"That being said, you're absolutely right. He's made a complete mess of things."

"Not you too!" Ichigo blurted out, bits of rice spewing form his mouth.

"Close your mouth, Ichigo. I know I raised you with better manners than that." The sharpness in her brown gaze had the little prince sitting up straighter, more dignified, as he wiped at the corner of his lips.

"You sister manages to keep the family from collapsing for her whole life and you manage to ruin someone else's in a few weeks. It's a feat, that's for sure," Isshin added, more amused than anything else. He had nothing to be upset about, after all. He adored Rukia and her addition would only make their family more complete. However, his only son's tactlessness deserved her ire.

Even he knew it was a woman's prerogative to rebel when they weren't wooed correctly. Or at all.

All Ichigo could do was mumble angrily into his portions, strange, animalistic sounds that bore resemblance to words escaped him as he shoveled in his food as quickly as he could. He wouldn't loiter in front of his family and take their criticism, not when he had his own conscience tearing into him whenever it had the chance.

Excusing himself, Ichigo didn't lift his eyes from the table as he stood up and kept his head down as he sidled towards the door. Likewise, the rest of the Kurosaki family offered him nothing but murmured goodbyes as he went.

"Ah, Ichigo," Isshin spoke abruptly over his tea, eyes skimming his newspaper wordlessly.

His movements ceased but he didn't face his father. He had a feeling what he'd say next.

"It's already time again this month."

"Ah."

The noncommittal sound shook Yuzu's hands, her usually steadiness lost enough to make her put her utensils down.

"Will you be going with us today?" Isshin asked, expecting nothing. Instead he made a show out of skimming the pages as if he read and understood each word.

There was a slight pause as Ichigo shuffled into his slippers. He took the time to consider it but there wasn't much to think about, was there? He had business to attend to, a division to pull together, and the weight of everyone's expectations on him. It was unfortunate but no, he couldn't spare the time.

"I'll be making a trip there before heading to the Fifth. There's still a lot to do," he offered quietly and nothing else as the door opened and closed a moment later. But the tension in the room was where he left it, closing throats and blurring eyes as breakfast came to a sudden and complete halt.

A minute later Yuzu excused herself as well, citing no reason as she bolted for the door. Neither of her parents attempted to ask her why as both had seen the brush of her sleeve against her face, her mouth set in a resolute line. They'd given her all the comfort they could but only time could heal wounds, and these were still fresh, bleeding into poorly wrapped bandages even as their own cuts remained untreated.

It was a while after their children left that Masaki found it in her to clear the table. Out of the corner of his eye Isshin could see the control she had over her tired limbs and seemingly calm face. Her fairness had straightened dangerously, eyes blank as she planned to go back to the kitchen and remain there for the rest of the morning.

He didn't need to ask her what she'd be making or how long it'd take. Eight months was more than enough time to learn his daughter's favorite dishes. Eight times already they'd sat around her gravestone and made chitchat, praying and telling her mundane stories about their day. But with all of their practice, it was a wonder that the tradition never got easier.

Making his way up the hill, Ichigo could feel the cold wind claw at his skin as the elevation attempted to leave scars. It was counterproductive to number the days after death. After all, there was nowhere else to go, nothing else to reach for unless one wished for nonexistence. An uncommon goal for anyone except shinigami, but that was because it an occupational hazard.

The dirty road riddled with pebbles and debris gave way to stretches of grass, green and kempt, a tribute to the souls that'd found rest there. There would be a day where he'd rest among them and the thought brought a quake crawling up his spine. But even more terrifying was knowing that there were those here who had gone too early.

Karin had died a hero but the words of praise that fell so readily from others' lips almost had him suspicious. Part of it was blind flattery, another means to endear themselves to the rejuvenated Kurosaki family. But most of it was sincere, and that was the greatest legacy one could leave the world. For all of her secrets, Karin's character was impeccable, irreproachable even in the eyes of the most critical, and it left Ichigo grappling for places to put his own hands and feet. They were terrifyingly large shoes to fill for such a small girl.

The folded white paper poorly protected the fragile stems, the occasional petals being pulled with the wind. He didn't know if Karin would like the flowers he'd chosen—he'd drawn the conclusion she wouldn't have cared for any kind in particular—but he'd picked out the most outstanding ones, so bright to the point of garishness. If nothing else, he could see her laughing at his choice and strangely enough he imagined her face readily despite barely knowing it.

A tingle in the back of his mind warned him of a singular presence just before he came upon it. Honestly, he was glad for the company; in fact, he'd been wondering when they'd stumble across each other for a while now. But when Hitsugaya wanted to be alone it was a nearly impossible thing to breach those impregnable walls.

Snow-colored hair was almost blinding beneath the early morning sun. It was bowed in deep thought, kneeling before the newly erected monument, freshly cleaned and decorated with scant offerings but the day was young.

He knew Toushirou sensed him long before. He merely chose not to run this time, and Ichigo couldn't help but ask himself if today was going to be different.

"Yo, Toushirou," he called out, as if this wasn't their first conversation, as if they weren't visiting a tombstone that shouldn't exist. It was wholly inappropriate but it was a very Kurosaki-like thing to do.

"At least have the decency to call me Hitsugaya, Kurosaki-taichou," the boy said in kind, never looking up from his prayer, "As much as you hate it, you're a role model now. Act like it."

"I see age hasn't mellowed you even a bit," Ichigo shrugged, not offended. "All it did was make you a little taller."

The jibe was old, comfortable, a taste from their school days that seemed so long ago now. They were young shinigami, young souls, but the last year had aged them beyond recognition.

Grief did that to people.

"I'm glad to see you're not avoiding me anymore," Ichigo continued bluntly. His arms shuffled over his front.

When Hitsugaya didn't reply, he took that as acquiescence enough. Respectfully he turned his gaze to the engraved tombstone, and for a moment Ichigo wondered what kind of person was his sister that commanded such loyalty. And Toushirou didn't offer his freely but he suspected it wasn't just reverence that the other man held.

They said nothing as he placed his bouquet down and offered his own prayer. The silence continued even as they turned away from the resting place, walking side-by-side as they made their way back to the Gotei Thirteen. They should've attempted conversation but Ichigo didn't know how to breach the chasm between them and Toushirou didn't seem to care enough to try.

"You should say something to Kuchiki-fukutaichou."

"What?" Both his abruptness and the subject at hand caused Ichigo to stumble, falling a few steps behind as the other kept moving forward. When the surprise subsided, irritation welled in his stomach.

"And what do you know about that, Toushirou?" he inquired belligerently, jogging to catch up. After being refused by Rukia those first few weeks he'd left her alone in hopes she'd come to him when she was ready. It'd been half a year since then, and he was no closer to mending the bridge between them.

Not rising to the bait, Hitsugaya kept his attention forward. "I know that you're an idiot who forced her into the one thing she wanted to avoid—a political marriage. Considering you both shared the same thoughts on the matter I'm surprised you even offered for her hand."

"I wasn't thinking, okay? Is anyone around here ever gonna cut me some slack?"

"Considering how large the shortcomings you've demonstrated thus far are… No, I can't imagine they would."

The Fifth's captain choked, coughing into his hand with something that was mixed between disbelief and amusement. There weren't many things that surprised him nowadays but this newfound humor, as dark and sarcastic as it was, certainly did.

"When did you learn how to talk like that?" he asked his old friend, watching the embarrassment wash over Toushirou's features. Apparently he wasn't the only one shocked by the new behavior. "You used to never joke around, and definitely not like that. I could barely get a word out of you back in the Academy."

"Things have changed since then," he spoke cryptically. "Many things. And your relationship with Kuchiki-fukutaichou is one of them."

"How is that? We're still friends. Um, kinda…" If one chose to forget the last few decades and their questionable reunion.

"So, what, you don't think anything has changed? The fact that you haven't had a decent conversation since before your disappearance and the one time you do it leads to your engagement doesn't strike you as change?"

Did Toushirou learn to read minds since he left? "Well when you put it that way…" Scratching the back of his head, he felt Hitsugaya's glare settle on him. He knew his family and Byakuya had found fault with his dealings with Rukia but he hadn't realized others had become privy to the on-goings of their Houses.

"You're an even bigger fool than I thought if you keep putting off on apologizing to her. And I've seen you in some compromising situations, Kurosaki, so please don't try to impress me by continuing on like this."

"I've been trying, alright? Don't tell me I haven't." They turned the corner and hugged the stone wall to the right as passerbys ambled in the opposite direction. "But you're right, things have changed and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to her."

"Maybe if you made it a priority to convince her that your thoughtlessness was actually kindness she'd forgive you. Not that she should. I'm wholly on Kuchiki's side in this matter."

"Tch. You would be." But for all his annoying insight, Ichigo felt a little better talking about his problems. There weren't enough people he could trust to give counsel that didn't benefit them somehow. If anything, Toushirou was looking out for Rukia's best interest; another stark reminder that much had changed in the time he'd gone missing.

Wanting to shift his attention elsewhere, Ichigo felt Karin's name come to the tip of his tongue as he eyed the Tenth's taichou out of the corner of his eye. He'd wondered what his relationship was with her, had even taken to interrogating a few onlookers about the two of them.

But the answer was always the same. The conduct between them was sparklingly clean, a master-and-student relationship until the bitter end. Any speculation of more was just that, and Hitsugaya had kept mum on his feelings. Other than his obligatory visits—which spoke volumes for a man of few words like him—the mystery between them looked to be an open and shut book.

"Did you love her?" The words tumbled out, a lackluster attempt at tact. Ichigo berated himself for not easing into it better but he didn't have the time or patience to coax it from him. They were nearing the Fifth's headquarters and who knew when he'd get another chance like this again.

"Who? Kuchiki-fukutaichou?" The brusque retort was meant to keep the conversation light but it was more telling than Ichigo expected.

"You know exactly who I mean."

"It's none of your business, Kurosaki," Toushirou bristled, brushing off the topic as the lines between his eyes deepened. "And even if I told you it wouldn't change anything."

He gave his thoughts anyway. "I think you did. Love her, I mean," the older man shrugged, ignoring the tautening of muscles in Hitsugaya's face and how his shoulders turned to iron. "I don't think I'd grieve for a comrade the way you are. I've heard what people have said about you since then. You haven't quite been yourself, like you haven't figured out how to function the way you used to."

"And so what if I did?" There was an edge of challenge in his voice daring him to ask another next question.

It still surprised him how upfront Toushirou had become. Maybe not so forthcoming as to seek him out, but certainly more so now than he ever was before. But what did Ichigo want to hear? Would it change anything? Honestly, if he didn't want to hear the answer, then there was no use asking.

"Nothing. Don't mind me, I'm just thinking out loud." Knowing Hitsugaya wasn't ready to divulge that information just yet, Ichigo let it go as they came to a fork in the road. They didn't say anything to each other, not even a nod or glance in each other's direction. After not seeing each other for so long it was almost in bad taste to part without saying goodbye.

For them, however, there had been far too many of those, so they decided they'd take their chances.

Brow furrowing, Rukia blew the tips of her bangs out of her eyes, scowling when they fell right back into place. What was the point of trimming her hair if it kept getting in the way? Brushing it aside with her hand, she groaned when it fell back onto the tip of her nose and she growled to herself.

"Umm, are you okay, Kuchiki-fukutaichou?" Kiyone asked innocently, watching the usually cool aura around her lieutenant turn a sinister black. Soon they'd have to open the doors just to keep them from freezing shut like they had a few months ago after the announcement of her engagement.

"Fine. I'm fine… Totally fine…" she responded distractedly, trying to sort the information into columns and finding her memory was malfunctioning today.

"Are… Are you sure?" her third seat braved again, only to shrink back when amethyst eyes narrowed dangerously at her.

"Yes. I am. Why do you ask?" Each polite word was punctuated with a slight grind to her teeth.

"A-ah, um, w-well, y'know… No reason in p-particular," Kiyone stuttered out as spiders climbed up and down her spine, "J-just, uh, makin' conversation! Yeah! Really not wondering if you're thinking about Kurosaki-taichou again."

Slapping a hand over her mouth, the apologies became garbled whimpers against her hand as she shook her head in repentance. She stumbled back a few feet as the Thirteenth's second made a show of standing from her desk, eyes turned downwards, with a sway to her body that reminded her of an unsteady undead.

"What… did… you… say…?"

Quiet screams were trapped in her throat as Kiyone fell back until she plastered herself to the white walls of their office, whimpering little pleas for mercy. It was taboo to mention the orange-haired havoc-wreaker in the presence of the Kuchiki princess, and she'd promptly thrown her lofty weight around and assigned enough work to kill a soul a second time for doing so. In her nervousness the name had slipped and Kiyone knew it would be the death of her.

"Ah, Kuchiki, may I borrow you for a moment?"

Peeking in from the adjacent room behind the screen door was Ukitake-taichou. A smile was readily on his lips, serene in the face of Rukia's ardor that was so strong one could practically see the snow coming down from the rafters. Kiyone sent a silent prayer to the gods and rushed to the opposite side of the room, citing division business as she slammed the door behind her.

Barely composed, the vice captain gave her best impression of cheeriness. "Of course, Taichou. How can I help?"

"Well I've got some documents that need delivering and I'm afraid I have an appointment to go to right now. They're rather urgent so if you could please…?"

"Of course. No problem," she supplied readily, walking over and accepting to the large envelopes. "Who am I giving these to?"

"Kurosaki-taichou at the Fifth," Ukitake replied happily, oblivious to how her face fell with horror. "They're regarding transfers for a few squad members as well as some other boring captain tasks. However, you know how particular the Soutaichou is about properly documented work."

"Yes… I know…" The words slipped out but she was no longer listening. Instead she was trying to figure out who to hand this off to and then be on her way. There was no way she was going to see Ichigo again, especially since he'd failed to apologize to her. She'd sooner throw her zanpakuto into a volcano than dea with him.

"Please deliver it now. I know it's out of your way but I don't really want to entrust this to anyone else."

Damn, there went her plans. "Are you sure I should be handling such a task? I mean, you could always do it tomorrow," Rukia offered, recklessly chasing after her captain's form as the made his way to the exit. Her things were thrown haphazardly across her desk, memos and accounting sheets that wouldn't be done tonight, and she knew she was going to have to clean it all up tomorrow. But that problem could be dealt with later.

She wasn't sure if he didn't hear or he merely chose not to respond because as soon as they made it outside Ukitake-taichou waved with a little grin before disappearing into a shunpo. An uncomfortable thrill ran down her spine, and immediately she felt like she was being set up. But her captain would never do such a thing. He was a good, sickly man who just happened to assign her a task that she'd rather drink poison than fulfill, but he couldn't know that… right?

Stomping her feet, Rukia worked to harden her shields, reminding herself that this was no fiancé she was visiting but an inconsiderate childhood friend who owed her much more than an apology. An explanation for why he'd left—though she already knew why he couldn't stay after being seen by Aizen but she wanted to words from him—what he'd done while he was gone, why he hadn't tried to speak to her after her temper had cooled.

Why he did what he did when no one asked him to save her.

There's a reason. Probably something self-sacrificing and completely by accident, Rukia told herself as she breathed in deep, hugging the papers to her chest. He'd have to get on his knees and beg for mercy. It was no less than what he deserved.

So absorbed in plotting her schemes, she failed to notice another body walking the opposite direction and barely stopped before colliding into them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't look where I was going."

"That's quite unlike you, Kuchiki-fukutaichou. You're very diligent most days." The voice was soft, deep, and one she hadn't heard in a long while.

Looking up, violet eyes took in the sharp features of the Tenth's captain. It felt like years since she'd last saw him, and from the way his eyes sunk in and his cheekbones protruded he looked it as well. Not quite sickly or malnourished but haunted all the same, like he slept on occasion and ate only when he remembered. Inside her chest, her heart went out to him.

"I-I'm sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou. I… have a lot on my mind right now." It was a half-truth and he seemed to know it.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment, her shuffling her feet and keeping her stare away as he regarded her openly. He shouldn't be interfering in their relationship, and he knew he should mind his own business. What happened among the royal families wasn't meant for a commoner like him, nor did he have any expertise on how to get an unruly pair like them to talk to each other properly.

But Hitsugaya also knew that if Karin was here and knew this was going on she wouldn't stand for it.

"You should listen to what Kurosaki has to say," he spoke abruptly, spooking her as she watched him with wide eyes. "I'm not saying what that he's right or that he deserves forgiveness just yet, but he's trying very hard to understand you and I think you owe him that much."

"I'm sorry but Ichigo didn't speak to me for months and now I'm just supposed to let him back into my life because you said so?" Rukia defended herself. "A few attempts at reconciliation and he just gave up when it got tough. How am I supposed to trust him to fix the mess he's gotten us into if he can't even do that much?"

"Would you have listened to him if he'd knocked down your door, seized you by the arm, and dragged you into a conversation you weren't ready to have?" He took her reluctance as a no. "Now that your head has cleared and you've both had time to think, now is the time to fix this. Together. Not just him, even if it is all Kurosaki's fault. He needs you to cooperate with him if you want to get things back to the way they were."

Opening her mouth, Rukia nearly let her thoughts escape. She wasn't sure what 'back' was. Was it before they were engaged, back to when she resented him as much as she missed him? Or was it that steady relationship they had before then, the one that used have butterflies tickle her insides and heat color her cheeks? Right now she wasn't sure if she could handle either scenario.

Not knowing what else to do, she nodded before slipping into a bow and dashed past him. But his voice carried, stopping her once more. She turned to look for him but his form was gone, taken with the wind and leaving her mind a mess.

You're lucky you're both alive and able to fix the problems between you. Death is a barrier even we cannot overcome.

Her heart lurched in its chest and Karin's face flashed in her mind, bringing back a crash of sorrow she thought she'd washed her hands of. A tiny smile managed to lift her lips as she imagined the girl reprimanding both her and Ichigo for their foolishness, hands on her hips as she forcefully told them to talk it out like adults. Even the shutter of the door when she storms out echoed in the recesses of her mind, and Rukia couldn't help but ponder all the things that could've been.

Tiredness crept onto his shoulders, into his skin, and pulled at his eyelids. If there was anything he didn't miss about Soul Society, taking up leadership in this bureaucratic-minded organization certainly one of them. Long, thankless hours to maintain order in the afterlife sounded more interesting than it was, Ichigo mused as he rubbed at his eyes and stretched his stiff limbs. At least it was time to go home. He refused to do overtime another night.

A quick rap on the door broke through his thoughts.

"Come in," he called out, stifling a yawn.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose when Kuchiki Rukia stepped in looking as cool as ever. She made no pleasantries as she approached his desk, laid down the bundled papers, and with a stiff bow preceded to leave. His voice lodged into his throat as he followed after her.

"Rukia, wait—"

"I have nothing to say to you, Kurosaki Ichigo, and even if I did, I doubt you'd listen to it anyway," she ground out, steps like lead as she walked.

He winced, knowing he insult wasn't wholly unfounded. "I couldn't let them treat you that way, and you know that while they respect your position as the Thirteenth's vice captain, you're still not safe in that house."

"I'll have you know that Byakuya-nii-sama has done a wonderful job of protecting me. Not that you'd know anything about that."

She halted abruptly, having him nearly crash into her, but Rukia refused to look back at him. "Considering how long you've been absent, I think entrusting anything of mine to you would be in poor judgment. It's your reputation and your status that they're after. They're using you just as much as they are me."

He didn't care. He'd rather sacrifice himself for the next century than let her stay in a suffocating place like that any longer. When they were children, he'd thrown himself in harm's way for her on more occasions than he could count and Ichigo wanted to continue being the one to keep her safe. But that would be far too forward to say, stemming from a place that he was reluctant to visit himself, so instead he clenched his jaw until he was sure his teeth would shatter.

In the end Ichigo held his tongue. If he was stronger or smarter maybe he'd know the right thing to say. But all he really wanted to do was protect her, even if he wasn't entirely sure why.

"I'm sorry if what I did upset you but I'm not sorry for choosing your side. You're one of the few people I can still trust in this place."

"How can you be so sure? You don't know me anymore," she sniffed regally, casting a suspicious glance over her shoulder. She wasn't prepared for the little grin on his face that reminded her so much of their childhood.

"No, you're right, I don't. But we can get to know each other again." For a moment he looked past her and his thoughts went to his brief reunion with Hitsugaya. "That's a privilege only the living have, y'know."

Her throat constricted as she fumbled for her words. "Y-you… Don't you dare use Karin against me. You didn't even know her!"

"I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't want us to act this way," Ichigo argued, expression darkening and then softening within the same second, "But only after she beat me in the head for making you upset in the first place."

A choked laugh barely made it through her mouth, a half-sob that reminded her that she had yet to see Karin today. She planned to go when all the others were gone. As close as she was—practically kin, now more so than ever under the circumstances—she didn't want to intrude on the newly minted family. The tears didn't come anymore, but the dull ache had barely lessened.

Wrapping her arms across her, Rukia let a rueful smile tickle her face. "You would've loved her. She was just like you as a kid."

"Really?" His eyebrows inched up, not sure how to continue the conversation. "How so? From what I hear she was the most well-behaved Kurosaki in, well, centuries."

"On the outside her manners were impeccable, all thanks to Nii-sama, of course. No one would've let her go on in peace if she drew attention to herself unnecessarily."

"For some reason I can't imagine her ditching lessons to run around and mess with your brother's bonsai and fish."

The memory lit her face like a light, them as children with not enough attention span and a penchant for mischief, Ichigo climbing the high walls of her home and waving her away from her studies while he crouched in the bushes. They'd run amok inside that mansion, splashing around in the expensive pond and ruining more than a little of Byakuya's delicate landscaping. And when they were sat down and soundly scolded, they shared a fleeting look that promised another date and time before he was dragged out by his father and she was led away by a house maid.

"Ah, well, she was a bit quieter in her pranks. But I have no doubt that you'd have been a fan." Especially considering many of her deeds were aimed at the questionable Elders who had threatened her and the Kurosaki family.

"Tell me about them." Tell me about her.

Ichigo had no illusions that this was going to be an uphill battle. Regaining Rukia's trust was going to be the most difficult challenge in his life, and that was saying something. But the lilt in her voice, the carefree airiness that she adopted as she spun her stories, and her nonsensical gesticulations she made with her hands were old comforts he hadn't known he'd missed.

AN: Okay, so this is gonna turn into an IchiRuki fic for a little bit. Not too long. I plan on working my magic but only in good time. :) I actually really liked writing this chapter (but it's late and I'm tired so what do I know) so I hope you guys did too. If so, please leave a review. Just a word or two would be nice but I'm more a fan of epics. Haha.

Thanks for reading, everybody! Until next time~