"Goddamn calculus. This shit is like black magic."

"If you weren't asleep during the lecture, you probably wouldn't be having such a hard time."

"Oh shut up, you damn midget."

"After you, pineapple head."

"How about you both shut the hell up so I can finish my anatomy notes?"

Ichigo looked up and grinned at his two friends, who smiled back at him from across the table, the three sharing a laugh. They sat outside of of their university, spending their time between classes together as usual. It was spring of their second year, and the cherry blossoms around them were peaceful.

Ichigo looked up at the sky as his friends started to bicker again, the bright color against the pale flowers around them reminding him of his favorite shade. He felt his chest tighten only slightly.

It's been a while since I've thought of him.

After the shooting, Ichigo had taken several months to recover, although he was left with no permanent damage besides a small scar near his temple. He had been very lucky, but at the time none of it had mattered. The last time he remembered seeing Grimmjow was in the alley, his form fuzzy but still unmistakable.

As he had recovered, he had learned more of the story. Ichigo had recounted to the police what had happened the night he was cornered and shot, finally loosing the truth about Aizen and everything that had happened in the weeks prior. It was then that he had been told Aizen was dead. The minute he heard those words it was like his synapses had fried, and he finally put two and two together.

He went home after about a month in the hospital, his father and sisters looking after him as he buried himself in schoolwork to forget his pain. Night after night, he would watch the news to see if the suspect in the farmhouse homicide had been apprehended. Eventually the TV news stopped covering it so he scoured the internet, looking for a trace to no avail. The time passed and he graduated, staring university and devoting himself to his studies once again. With the support of his family and friends, he had eventually been able to resume a fairly normal life.

But he had never forgotten.

"Ichigo?"

He was torn from his train of thought as he looked across the table at Renji's expectant face.

"What?"

"We're going to have some drinks tonight with some guys from class," Rukia continued for him, looking hopeful. "You should come with us. I have a friend who'd really like to meet you."

Ichigo smiled softly as his friends attempt to once again integrate him back into the social scene. Although his daily life had gained a decent amount of normalcy, he had still never dated or searched for a relationship in the year and a half that his only boyfriend had been gone. Gathering up his books and putting them his his bag, he swung it over his shoulder and stood.

"Sorry Ruk, but classes are a bitch. Maybe next time."

Rukia shot a concerned look at Renji, who frowned at him.

"Ichigo, you know you can't keep doing this to yourself, right? He would want you to be happy."

Ichigo cringed as he spoke, feeling sick to his stomach. He turned his back and walked away quickly, ignoring the calls of his friends. He arrived home and trudged upstairs to his bedroom, laying down and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Even now, he sometimes thought he could remember the touch of larger arms around him, the way they used to hold him in the same bed. It was much to soon to even think of dating anyone else. He wasn't sure if it would ever be time.

Rolling over and opening the top drawer of his dresser, he removed a small and slightly worn piece of film. He looked at the picture of he and Grimmjow, standing together in the kitchen. The photo was angled upwards, taken by Yuzu when she was quiet a bit shorter. It had come in the letter given to him by Nnoitra, explaining why he had shot his attacker and telling him how sorry he was. It was the only photo they had ever taken together. Curling up into a ball, Ichigo held back his emotion by falling asleep, plagued by dreams that were disturbing although he couldn't remember them.

When he awoke again, it was dark outside. He put the photo back into its place in the drawer before sitting up with his knees to his chest and rubbing his eyes. The full moon cast light onto his bed, the shadow of the tree out front visible. But as he looked closer, there was another shadow as well.

Ichigo moved to the window and was startled to the figure of a man sitting on his roof, cigarette smoke curling up from in front of him. He had dark hair that was swept back, although it still shifted wildly in the breeze. He opened the window as softly as he could, barely breathing as he crouched and slid out of his room. His foot shifted on the roof and made a sound, causing the figure to turn around.

Ichigo saw green eyes peer over at him, the figure dropping the cigarette and turning slightly to face him. They stared at each other for a few moments before the man turned his head down again and moved his hand towards his face. He shifted something in his lap, putting his hand in his pocket for a moment before looking back up.

This time, beautiful cyan eyes gazed into his soul with longing. It took Ichigo only a moment to reach him, shuffling into his lap and running his fingers through the thick hair he remembered though it was now the color of the night sky. His body shook as he cried silently in the grasp of the large arms encircling him. A familiar baritone voice, soft and loving, whispered in his ear.

"You didn't really think I could leave you forever, did you?"