Ichigo likes to think he's got stronger since that night in Kensei's apartment. He likes to think there's nothing to worry about, not anymore. He likes to think that he's safe when he yells at Kensei to shut off the lights in the small apartment they share and closes his eyes to go to sleep. But some small part of him knows that this isn't the case. That unearthly pale face still lingers in the back of his thoughts, lips curling in that uneven and unnatural smile.
It's obvious that he doesn't get much sleep. He double-checks the locks, even made Kensei replace one or two of them, murmuring his thanks to the older man as Kensei grumbled going about repairing the doors.
Ichigo's surveyed the building through and through, mentally going through plans of escape, telling himself that if the stalker comes again, he'll be ready. He still finds little holes in those plans. He still wakes up in a cold sweat.
He doesn't like to bother Kensei with this. He figures the other was nice enough to split the rent on a new apartment with him and promise to at least try the suspicious lumps of vegetarian cuisine Ichigo cooks up sometimes, he shouldn't bother Kensei with his worries. He pretends to get full nights of sleep and finds himself drifting off in Chad's protective shadow during World Civ.
Kensei never seems too bothered, though. A worried glance in his direction every once in a while, but the older man knows to keep his distance. The older man knows just how far protection should extend before it gets to be a thorn in a guy's pride.
Ichigo doesn't know what to think of Shinji, yet. He's still not used to those slitted eyes watching him from across the table when the young vizord leader visits for dinner. He also doesn't know what to make about the way Kensei's been fumbling at the table when Shinji does come to visit or the way he actually tries to make an effort at cooking, even if it means Kensei calling him on his way home from school, asking for him to pick up some eggs or ginger.
It's not that Kensei's a bad cook, far from it. The older man's actually a good hand in the kitchen. It's just that, for all the time Ichigo spent with Kensei before the kidnapping, the only thing he saw the silver-haired thug make or eat was take-out in various states of reheating.
He's not sure what to think of the man he catches licking spoons and wearing an apron in their shared kitchen. Nor is he sure what to think when he finds the door to their apartment open coming home from school one day.
His first thought, of course, is that racing sort of heartbeat, that fear that maybe his stalker's found him again, no matter what he's done to throw him off. That thought isn't made any better when he hears a thud and a pained gasp from the other room.
"Sh- shit," he hisses beneath his breath. Ichigo's mind is racing with positions, fighting techniques, and whatever it can grasp at as he hears more shouts from the other room. He stumbles onward, kicking off his shoes as he races onto the wooden floorboards.
Ichigo turns and pauses. Kensei's jacket is hanging over the couch that hides whatever's going on from his eyes. The gasps are louder and the shouting's stopped as Kensei peeks over the edge of the couch, face a little red, "Yer... home kinda earlier than usu-"
Kensei cuts off at the expression on Ichigo's face and his brow wrinkles in concern as he gets up, clearly having been in the process of getting naked, his black wife-beater hanging awkwardly and just barely enough to cover a hard-on, "Ya ok-"
"Fine! Fine!" Ichigo gasps out, turning away from the scene, wanting to bleach the mental image of the thug entirely from his mind, "I'm just gonna grab s- some supper an'... Yeah, I'll be over with Lisa."
"Fine," Kensei lets himself be pulled back down onto the couch by a spindly hand.
"We scared him off," Shinji's voice is almost bland with the comment, but the growing quirk of a smile on his lips is more than a little telling. "I was going to ask for a threesome."
The door slams and Kensei snorts, "I think that might be a while in comin', boss."