This is the conclusion, at long last guys. Thanks for sticking with me! Ever since a story of Ichigo battling his inner demons and himself - rather than one big enemy - popped into my head, all I've wanted to do was write it. So thanks for the favorites, and follows, and views, and reviews. They all mean a lot to me and kept pushing me to this point.

I'm already thinking of writing a sequel and/or a series of one-shots, but it wouldn't be any time soon. But my muse is intrigued by seeing what Ichigo does with his life after he's finally free! I already have a few good ideas floating around.

Anyways, I really hope this doesn't disappoint!

Drazzah.

Ichigo struggled to open his eyes, squinting in the harsh glare of a fluorescent light. He blearily made out the circle of serious faces above him, which included Urahara and Unohana-san. What the hell? Hadn't he just been talking to the artificial soul..?

He tried to speak but his throat worked uselessly. A weak cough sounded instead, twin trails of blood tickling his jaw as they escaped the corners of his lips. Urahara's brow was furrowed in concern, while the two members of the Fourth division were focused and determined as they quickly moved around him. Healing him? Had he succeeded? He didn't feel any better..

Ichigo tried to ask the question with his eyes, directed at the person he trusted to tell him the straight truth. Urahara swallowed, his gray eyes uncertain for once as he correctly read what Ichigo was desperate to know.

"We don't know what happened, Kurosaki-san. You did sustain some damage, like we'd prepared for, but then you suddenly released a great deal of reiatsu and we started to lose you. Then you left your soulscape and regained consciousness. Did you win?" His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of speaking any louder. Ichigo could hear the quiet orders of Unohana-san and his own harsh, pained breathing in the otherwise silent room.

Right. He'd used Getsuga Tenshou, but he couldn't remember anything after that. Had he killed the Mod Soul? Seemed anti-climatic to him. It was hard to think at all with the agony coursing through his body; his head was muddled with it and his ears were buzzing. Had he lost his last gamble? Using so much spiritual pressure at once must have gravely wounded him. His soul had been too weak to handle it after all..

He coughed out the blood blocking his throat, grimacing at the sight. He had to try twice before he was able to speak with any coherency.

"No.. don't think I won. Gambled. Let loose.. Getsuga Tenshou.. but I don't think it was.. killed. Killed.. myself maybe?" He pushed out the words, hoarse voice rasping from his aching throat.

Urahara seemed to deliberate that and Ichigo blankly noticed that he wasn't wearing his hat. He almost felt honored, since he only did that for Gramps. Wait.. the old guy was here, too, wasn't he? So much for that theory. What had he been saying?

He blinked and realized that it was Urahara who had been speaking. As if noticing that Ichigo couldn't follow, he paused to speak to Unohana-san briefly. She glanced at him for a moment, kind face unreadable, before she touched a gentle hand to his forehead. His attention sharpened, the buzzing lessening slightly. He nodded his thanks sluggishly, before looking back at his friend.

"Kurosaki-san, they're working to heal you, but if the Mod Soul isn't dead then you have to go back in. It's your only chance." His low voice was urgent now, trying to get the pertinent info across before Ichigo faded again. Hadn't that always been his only chance though? Looked like he blown it, judging by how he was starting to go numb.

But even as he thought that, he felt a tugging sensation deep within him. The room went black momentarily at a particularly sharp yank. His.. soul was pulling him into his soulscape involuntarily? Was that possible?

He gave a weak grin, unable to hide his vague amusement at these increasingly ridiculous events. Urahara's serious eyes widened. "Your eye.. it's becoming Hollowfied." His voice was shocked and resigned all at once.

Ichigo snorted a semblance of a laugh, ignoring the spill of blood with the movement. "Y-yeah.. that figures. Looks like.. got no choice. Being.. pulled in. Try to-"

He got cut off at the splintering wave of torment that engulfed him, swallowing him whole. Shit, shit, shit. He was aware that someone was crying out in an awful voice. Maybe it was himself he was hearing distantly, but he'd never heard anything like that before. It sounded like someone was being murdered or something.. His thoughts faded briefly to escape the waves of agony.

When he was unceremoniously slammed back into his body, it was with extreme reluctance. Wasn't this enough..? Hadn't he been through enough already, for fucks sake? The pain had to stop sometime..

He was unaware that he was mumbling aloud, riding on a haze of misery. Someone shook him roughly, and he blinked repeatedly until Urahara's familiar face anchored him. He was blurry, and Ichigo realized his eyes were clouded with tears. He couldn't bring himself to care. He felt like he was caving in from the inside out.

"Kurosaki-san!"

Ichigo felt that persistent tug once more and decided to give in to it. He coughed roughly and finished his earlier train of thought. "Try.. to buy me some.. time. Please. Hichigo.. will too.."

With that, he followed the call within him and fell back into the abyss.

When Ichigo opened his eyes once again, it was with even more confusion. Everything was a dense black, and his spirits were no where to be found. Was he already in the void? He realized he was flat on his back, sprawled on the ground, which was shaking with faint tremors. He also came to the conclusion that he felt slightly better in here. Less like he was going to die at any second, anyway.

He heard a faint sound, and tilted his head back to look behind him. It was hard to make out, being upside down and all, but he glimpsed a familiar glow. He was a few feet away from the chamber where the Mod Soul lived. He must have failed to kill it in one blow, as he'd hoped to. He also must have landed out here at the same time that he'd been thrown clear out of his own subconscious in the resulting chaos.

He rolled sluggishly onto his stomach, and swayed on his hands and knees for a moment. As he struggled to stand upright, his sword manifested in his slick palm, and he gratefully used it for balance as he stumbled into the room. He sent a silent thanks to Zangetsu for always being there right when he needed him.

As he cleared the arched doorway, for hopefully the last goddamn time, he blearily squinted around the space, unable to mask his surprise and dismay at what he found.

The fires had long since guttered out, and the tentacles were scattered around the space, unmoving where they'd been flung after Ichigo's desperate attack. In the very center lay the artificial soul. Its glow was pulsing weakly, almost like a heart beat. The Chain of Fate was no longer connected to the ceiling, but lay coiled around the unfortunate creature in a dark tangle.

Ichigo's brow furrowed as he dropped heavily onto his knees next to it.

"You're still alive?" His voice was reduced to a grating whisper, and he reached a hand out as if to touch it. But he dropped it heavily to his side when he realized that he'd done this to it; he didn't have the right to comfort it. He also doubted it would want that in any case.

Yes, it appears so. The feminine voice was soft and weak now. Well done, winning our duel. I can no longer defend myself, nor do I want to. You must finish what you have started. That is why I have called you back.

Ichigo squeezed his burning eyes shut. "Even if I do, I don't think I'm gonna make it."

Nonsense, Kurosaki Ichigo. Put an end to my cursed existence and the damage will begin to heal. I will not break our agreement and drag you down with me. It is your best, and only, chance. You did say you wanted to live, more than anything. Did you not?

"Yeah," He blew out a long breath and grasped the solid warmth of his Zanpakuto. "I did. I'm sorry, if that makes any difference."

Yes, I think perhaps it does. I did not expect any empathy for my passing.

Ichigo swallowed thickly and raised his sword, the point inches away from the smooth surface of the orb. The glow fluttered slightly as Ichigo thrust forward, a sharp crack echoing in the space as the shell cracked neatly in two. The glow, no longer pulsing, rose slowly into the air, hovering directly in front of Ichigo's eyes. Even as it spoke, it was fading into nothingness.

If I had to be killed, I am glad it was by someone so reluctant to do so. The only light in my short existence was meeting such a strange Shinigami. If you can carry this rage and grief with you, into your godforsaken Soul Society, then my creation may have meant something in the end.

Even when he sensed that it was gone for good, he raised one trembling hand to touch the air where it had disappeared.

"Yeah. I won't forget you. You were a part of my soul, after all."

As if waiting for his words, the room suddenly began to crumble. He staggered out into the open, but realized he didn't know where to go or what to do. He hadn't thought this far ahead, damn it.

As he turned in a slow circle, stumbling aimlessly, his eyes strained to pick out anything that would give him a sign about what to do. But it turned out all he needed to do was listen.

Ichigo!

Zangetsu's deep voice was loud, despite the sounds of destruction around him. The place was falling apart with him in it. Was the void closing? He must be able to hear his spirits again with the artificial soul finally gone, but then where the hell was Zangetsu?

Follow my voice. You must exit the void before it seals with you inside.

Behind him! With the last of his energy he broke into a limping run towards the voice of his Zanpakuto spirit. He could distantly see a slice of blue sky and glinting glass. His soulscape was open to him again!

Hurry, Ichigo! Your hollow side is beginning to run rampant, with you being so close to death. The Shinigami who guard you will not wait for much longer.

Well, that wasn't good. In fact it was really, really bad. He made himself put on a burst of speed as he neared the exit, finally tumbling from the inky darkness of the black void behind him as a great forced shoved him. He lay dazed for a moment, the sunlight filtering through the dispersing clouds was so bright he had to shield his eyes.

Ichigo rolled to his feet, unable to lay still without knowing if he was safe. Sensing movement, and still riding high on the rush of adrenaline, he spun to see Zangetsu nearby, gazing at something behind Ichigo.

He craned his head around to see that the void was still a ragged line down the center of his inner world, but it was sealed. Actually sealed. The place was a gigantic fucking mess, glass and debris strewn everywhere, half the buildings demolished or missing. But it looked better than it had since he'd first been unsealed from Central 46.

He turned to Zangetsu. "Oi, Old Man. Good to see you again." Pain, his old friend, was beginning to rise once more as relief calmed him down.

So it is, Ichigo, but this is no time to celebrate. You must go and stop your hollow before it is too late.

Ichigo nodded briefly, immediately closing his eyes to push himself awake.

He'd never felt anything like this.

When his hollow had taken over before, Ichigo had been shoved into the back of his mind to watch in horror at what he was doing while out of control. Sometimes he couldn't even witness the force of destruction he was wreaking on others, if that was the way his hollow had wanted it. That was part of why it had been so terrifying.

But since they had come to their agreement, not once had they attempted to merge.

So when Ichigo tried to wake up, instead of being his usual controlled self, he wasn't alone in his mind. It wasn't like when his spirits talked to him, because speaking was all they were doing. This was like.. he was sharing everything. He could feel the insidious power of his hollow throughout his whole being, but it didn't feel as terrifying as before. He realized that his hollow had moved over so that he had a part in what was going on. It was the oddest sensation, but it felt kind of good. The strength of his hollow coursed through him but he was in control of it. As he looked through the eyes of his mask, he saw that there were a lot of drawn swords pointed at him. Uh oh. He glanced downwards, and took stock of his increasingly hollow-looking form. He was probably half-way to being taken over completely.

Ichigo could feel when Hichigo became aware of his appearance in his own mind, since they were sharing, and felt the hollow pause.

King? Thought ya were dyin' for sure this time.

As he replied in his mind, he noticed that his voice sounded like it did when he pulled out his mask. Nah, told you I wouldn't die so easy. But if you keep using your powers and my reiatsu, then it's still a possibility.

The room wavered, the edges of his vision filling with black as his chest burned even through the influence of his hollow's impressive power. He huffed a laugh when he realized that all of the Shinigami in the room were standing a cautious distant away, aside from Kensei, and they looked perplexed at the change in his behavior.

Fine, I'll go back. Felt good to let loose a little bit, that's for damn sure! Even if you're so weak that I wouldn'ta got very far.

Idiot. I'll bring you out again as soon as I recover, okay? Go away already.

He felt Hichigo slide back into main control briefly - ignoring his irritated curses - raising Ichigo's own hand to give an impertinent wave, his voice distinctly echoing through the comforting weight of his hollow mask. "No need ta' piss yourselves anymore, Shinigami. I'm done here. Try not ta' let the kid die, if ya know what's good for ya."

They looked startled before his hollow faded back into his soulscape. Ichigo could feel the inky black that stained his eyes fading at the simultaneously. He raised the sword hilt-first, ignoring the way they tensed, and shattered his mask in one swift blow with a sound like breaking china.

He gazed at the semi-circle of people around him, raising a trembling hand in greeting as the white fragments crumbled away from his body.

"Yo." He said unceremoniously, voice barely strong enough to reach the group across from him.

Then he fell flat on his face in a dead faint.

Ichigo drifted in a sea of white. Much like when he was imprisoned, he had no way of measuring the flow of time around him.

On one hand, he distantly thought that he should be concerned. He definitely wasn't awake, but he also wasn't able to go to his inner world. He was pretty sure he hadn't died, although after how messed up he'd been the last time he'd managed to wake up he wouldn't be especially surprised at that development.

But, no. He could sense that he was still as alive as he could be, being a Shinigami in a spirit world and all. He could sense things happening just beyond the realm he was in: snatches of conversation, his body being moved, someone trying to communicate with him. But he was unable to move, or speak, wherever he was.

Ichigo could see nothing but blanked-out space around him. He didn't sense any hostility or ill-will towards him, so he wasn't urgently trying to escape. It was kind of peaceful, actually. It was almost exactly the opposite of that great yawning black void that had almost swallowed him whole.

There was also the fact that the pain leached away slowly the longer he lay here, which was a definite plus. He'd been at the breaking point before, when he'd been forced awake after using Getsuga Tenshou. So it was a relief, in a way, to feel like he'd backed away from that razor-thin edge into more solid footing.

Ichigo let his thoughts fade once again as he slid easily back into a light doze. He slept a lot here, too.

An indeterminable amount of time later, he found himself grumbling in pure weariness as a voice - clearer than any had managed to penetrate this cloud before - abruptly interrupted his rest. He found he could finally move, as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. He glanced around but still didn't see anything.

"What?" He asked grumpily. He still felt that he should want to wake up, or something, but all he could manage was a mild irritation that he'd been woken up.

The voice sounded again and he realized it was his hollow. He'd been concerned that he couldn't hear his spirits, but it looked like they'd found a way.

King, ya giant dumbass, wake up!

"..Hichigo? Where have you been?" Ichigo struggled to stand. What did he mean, wake up? Wasn't he damn well talking to him right now? Unless this was a dream, he didn't know how much more awake he could get.

Jeez, you're a pain in the ass. I've been right here the whole damn time, tryin' to make you get your lazy ass in gear. You're the one who checked out! Fallin' over and never getting' back up again. Ought'a kick your ass for this. Old man's been worried in here, ya know.

Ichigo was definitely lost here. If his spirits were this worried – he could tell that Hichigo was, too, despite his caring words – then what was going on? One thing he did know was that he'd never get straightforward answers out of hollow.

He sighed and cut him off before his washed-out twin could continue to rant. "Oi, shut up. Zangetsu? You here?"

Hichigo spluttered curses at Ichigo's dismissal, but was also interrupted when Zangetsu's low, soothing voice echoed across the white landscape that Ichigo was still stuck in.

Ichigo, it is good that you have finally recovered. We feared that you would never wake.

Ichigo groaned aloud and grabbed his hair in frustration. "Explain what the fuck is going on here!"

There was a brief pause. I apologize, I was unaware that you did not know the situation. He had a feeling Zangetsu was glaring reprovingly at his hollow. In human terms, Ichigo, you are in a coma. I do not know how Shinigami normally react to such a thing, but in your case you have been completely unconscious, both in your body and within your inner world. Your body is here, but you are not.

"What do you mean I'm not there? How am I talking to you if I'm not awake?" Ichigo scrubbed at his face with both hands.

I do not know. We are talking, yet your body in front of us is still unresponsive. I had theorized that your soul was forcing you to heal, both in your soulscape with us and in the real world. But now you are communicating, so I am unsure what to think. Try to wake up, Ichigo.

Ya King, you've been wherever you are for three goddamn weeks. I'm about to off myself out of boredom here.

"I still don't really get it, but I'll try to wake up.. again." Ichigo growled.

He'd been here three weeks? Then it was definitely time to get out of here and back to living, now that he actually could move on with his life. The artificial soul was dead, and Central 46 had been dealt with, so he could try to, finally, get his life together.

He put his hands on his hips and scanned the area around him thoroughly. His soul forcing him to heal, he sort of got. It had taken a lot of damage, had been ripped apart in multiple ways, and he'd been one step away from dying. But how could it keep him from waking up in his own body?

The only thing Ichigo could work out was that he was still inside of his soul, but sort of removed from his physical body. Maybe he'd needed to be in this form to recover? Kind of like being forced to stay still so he couldn't damage himself further by trying to push himself too far before he was ready.

As much as he could understand that, Ichigo wanted to wake up now that he was aware of what was happening. He wasn't at one hundred percent yet, he knew that. He felt weak and washed out, and really, really tired. But he wasn't coughing, and his chest barely burned in discomfort. It was no where near the agony of before.

He was ready.

Even as he thought it, the white was swirling and rushing past him. He saw clear, bright blue overtaking it, chasing away the fog. Ichigo blinked, and saw the sky high above, dotted with fluffy clouds, lazily moving across in an invisible breeze. His fingertips twitched, and he felt the smoothness of glass beneath him. And sighed in pure relief. All he'd needed was to feel like he could leave, and he had. Thank god some things were going easier for him. It was a promising start.

Before he could even sit up, his spirits were looming over him.

King! Ya actually managed to do it. Color me surprised that you did somethin' right on the first try. He was cackling as he reached a hand down to grasp the front of Ichigo's Shinigami uniform in one strong fist. Ichigo went from prone to standing in less than a second, wobbling at the sudden change.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Hichigo. Good to see you too." He said sarcastically, but he couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Damn it felt good to, well, feel so good. He turned to his Zanpakuto. "Hey, Zangetsu. Sorry to make you worry."

As long as you have recovered, I am content. However, we will have to talk at another time. Ichigo, it is time to completely wake up.

Ichigo nodded and took a deep breath. Here went nothing.

It took a slight push, like he was forcing himself through something thick and viscous. But with a grunt, he managed to shove up into consciousness.

He didn't immediately open his eyes, trying to take stock of everything before he was poked and prodded. His body felt slightly worse out here, but that was to be expected. He was laying down in a bed, and couldn't hear anything except for the rustling of paper and the scratch of a pen. He would know that familiar sound anywhere.

He forced his eyes to open, blinking blearily in the overhead light until his eyes adjusted. He was in the hospital rooms located within the Fourth barracks, like he'd figured, since apparently he'd been out for three weeks - which would account for how stiff he felt. His hand immediately closed around his ever-present Zanpakuto, which was laying on the bed parallel to his body, feeling that familiar rush of comfort. When he felt ready, he glanced to the side and smiled when he saw flowers, notes and a myriad of other small gifts. His friends keeping close, he thought with relief.

Ichigo followed the noise to the other side of his bed and knew without even having to look that he'd find Urahara there.

The blonde-haired Shinigami was hunched over his latest scientific theory or project, face set in concentration as he scratched out a note and quickly scrawled a new one. Judging from his presence, Ichigo figured that his friends had taken turns being here in case he woke up. He would have told them not to bother, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"You drew babysitting duty on a lucky day, it seems." Ichigo's voice was tired but steady.

He was happy to note that the previous hoarseness that had come from his constant coughing, and the tickling in the back of his throat, were both completely gone. That, more than perhaps anything else, made him sure that he was on the mend.

He got a perverse pleasure when his friend jerked his head up as he spoke, eyes widening before they softened into a grin that matched Ichigo's. The other man put aside his research and pulled his chair closer to Ichigo's bed.

"Kurosaki-san! I'm glad you've finally decided to join us." His gray eyes scanned his face thoroughly, until Ichigo wanted to squirm. He moved his head in a firm nod, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "You look much better. I had feared, after we last spoke, that you would either be unable to wake up or that you would refuse to."

His smile faded as he remembered that moment, when he'd been so close to letting it all go just to escape the agony. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I bet. I didn't even know I was in a coma, or whatever, until just a few minutes ago. As soon as Zangetsu explained what was going on, I came back. You can't get rid of me that easily." He halfheartedly joked, but knew that Urahara would glean from his words what he really wanted to say: that Ichigo had decided that he wanted to come back, no matter what. That he hadn't been broken or given up.

Urahara's nod acknowledged that, his shoulders relaxing slightly as if in relief. "As you are with us once more, and mostly recovered, I take it that you successfully dealt with the Mod Soul."

Ichigo sighed as he remembered. "I did what I had to do. Just my spirits and I are in here now." He said, lightly touching a hand to his chest. It would be awhile before the bitterness faded and he was able to speak of the artificial soul. But he fully intended to talk to Urahara about them some day in the near future. At the very least he owed the soul that much.

Urahara was silent for a moment, seeming to deliberate if he wanted to speak. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at his hesitation.

"What is it, Urahara-san?"

He drew out his ever-present fan and snapped it open and closed. It unnerved Ichigo to see the other man fidget like that. He was about to demand that he just spit it out, when he finally spoke.

"Before I call for your friends and Captain Unohana to check you over, I wanted to discuss something with you."

Ichigo nodded at him to continue, pushing into a sitting position so that he wasn't on his back for something that was obviously important.

"You asked me, when your father came to visit, to share with you what we planned to discuss while you went into your soulscape. After seeing your state before you fell into a coma, I felt the need to put the idea forth, even though you are much improved." The fan was now hiding Urahara's face, and the ridiculous hat shadowed his eyes, so that Ichigo couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Kurosaki-san, he asked me if I could sneak you out of Soul Society if you wished to go. Much like the Visoreds, Tessai, and myself did long ago."

Huh. He hadn't even considered that, honestly. He should have, because it was definitely an option. But Shinigami weren't allowed to leave without permission whatsoever, so they'd feel obligated to find him. He'd be spending his days in hiding, forced to wear a Gigai indefinitely, which he couldn't see himself doing.

On the other hand, he would finally have a choice about whether he wanted to stay here or not. He could go home and stay with his family. He was sure Urahara had some trick up his sleeve to so that Ichigo could avoid detection if he wanted to do that. He wouldn't have to stay in Soul Society, among people who had tried their best to kill him. And that had succeeded in imprisoning him. But even as he considered that all of that, he was already shaking his head.

"Thanks, Urahara-san. Really. But I don't want to hide, and I'd always be looking over my shoulder if I did that. It'd be great to live as normal a life as I could.. but the fact is I can't go back to being human anymore. I'm not going age like my friends back in Karakura town, and I couldn't use my Zanpakuto or hollow powers to fight or protect anyone. I'm always going to be stuck as a Shinigami, regardless of where I am. It will just be easier to be one here. So, I'm going make the best of it. If, in the future, something happens or I change my mind..?" He trailed off uncertainly.

Urahara lowered the fan and smiled at him. "Then the offer is open as long as I am able to fulfill it, Kurosaki-san. I was hesitating to bring it up at all so soon after everything, in case you made a rash decision, but I rather thought that you would want all of your choices up front."

Ichigo huffed a laugh. "I think we've gotten to know each other way too well the last few months."

Urahara chuckled in agreement before he stood and stretched, scooping up his forgotten research notes. "I should go inform your friends that you have finally woken up. They have been by nearly every day to check up on you. And Hirako has been badgering me non-stop once Kensei told him about our interaction with your hollow. It appears that they have finally been convinced that your hollow has changed and is not trying to take you over, and so they are eager to begin."

I wasn't tryin' ta convince the idiots, I wanted ta kill 'em.

Well, either way, it happened. Guess you're not as scary as you thought.

Hichigo snarled, but Ichigo was already replying to Urahara. "I'm glad that they may be able to make their situation better. I'm not really sure where I'll be after they release me, but they can come talk to me anytime. Although maybe they can wait a few days - they're going to want me to demonstrate again and I'm not up to it quite yet." He said ruefully, gesturing at his own slumped form.

"Indeed," He smiled before opening the door to Ichigo's room. "You know, Kursosaki-san, the last few months have been at once wonderful and truly awful."

Ichigo smirked. "I know exactly what you mean, Urahara-san."

Not long afterward, his friends rushed into the room in a mismatched assembly. He was shocked to see Chad, Ishida and Inoue among them, but they must have called Inoue to heal him after he hadn't woken up. He was more than glad to see them after so long. He grinned around at them all. This was the lightest and most care-free that he had felt since that long-ago war with Aizen.

Inoue sobbed into her hands as soon as she spotted him, mumbling how happy she was that he was alive.

Rukia patted her consolingly and gave him that special, rare smile.

Renji gave him such a hearty pat on the back that he almost fell off the bed, his grin so wide and ferocious-looking that it would have scared anyone who didn't know him.

Ishida told him how crappy he looked, before gifting him with human clothes that he'd made for Ichigo to wear in Soul Society.

Chad gave him a silent fist-bump, a gentle smile on his lips, fingering the gold medallion he always wore.

And Ichigo, as he looked around at his friends, realized something important. He might not be okay, and he hadn't wanted to be stuck here in Soul Society, and he had a very uncertain future ahead of him.. but he wouldn't give up this moment for anything. He had more than enough time ahead of him to make things right in his life. But right now, at this very moment, he was happy and he was free. And no one could ask for better than that.