It's been months since he left...and every day, I still think he'll come back.

Hope, probably, was the more appropriate word for his feelings. Kira Izuru hoped. He hoped that Ichimaru would return, hoped that he would say it was all just a bad joke, hoped that everything would go back to normal. Of course, he also hoped that Hinamori would forget about Aizen and that had been a fruitless ambition thus far. He wasn't naive or ignorant, just hopeful.

But, like everything else, that hope faded over the days that melted into weeks and eventually months. Soon, it would be years and Kira would forget what Ichimaru smelled like and the unnerving feeling that twisted his guts into knots whenever the fox-faced man was around. Soon, he would hope for different things-- like a new captain that didn't push all of the work off on him or possibly a new love interest. For now, though, all Kira could do was wait for the thoughts to subside and try and concentrate on his daily routine.

Currently, that consisted of paperwork, deadlines, and meetings. Scribbling his name for what seemed like the hundredth time, the lieutenant gave a soft sigh to accompany the light click of his pen against the wooden desk. It was well into the afternoon and the headache forming at his temple reminded him that he needed to take a break and get some fresh air.

Sliding his chair back, he nearly jumped when it pushed against something that shouldn't have been there. Frowning slightly, he tilted his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of unmistakable silver. Eyes widening and body tensing, Kira set his gaze upon a very familiar, grinning face.

"Ichimaru...taichou..."

"Maa, ya ain't forgotten me yet?" Laid-back as ever, Ichimaru was unconcerned with Kira's obvious startle. "Ya been keepin' up with yer work, Izuru?"

"What...what are you doing here?" The blonde swallowed hard and ordered his legs to move him from such a vulnerable position, but his brain couldn't function on a level coherent enough to send such orders.

Ichimaru moved to the younger one's side and kneeled down, coming eye-to-eye with his former subordinate. "M'sorry, Izuru," he said in a low voice. "I didn't want t' leave ya like that. I hope ya can forgive me."

Kira was paralyzed-- was this real? His entire body tingled with Ichimaru's words. "Taichou," he whispered, unsure of how to respond.

"An' I just came t' wish ya," Ichimaru said, leaning in to rest his forehead against Kira's, "a happy April Fool's Day."

A blade through the chest. That was the only feeling Kira could even think to begin to describe the dread that filled him. He heard Ichimaru laugh lightly, though it seemed as if they were at opposite ends of a tunnel instead of mere inches away. His gaze, unfocused as his thoughts retreated to the depths of his mind, only caught the vague motion of the traitor standing.

By the time Kira forced himself back to reality, he was alone in his office again. Defeated, drained of energy, and hopeless, he let his head rap heavily against his desk. His eyes stung with tears that he managed to fight back-- Kira was never one to cry, despite how depressed he constantly seemed. It had been a joke, a final dash of those hopes that had mounted into an impatient, blind belief.

It will be months before I see him again...and every day, I still think he'll come back.

Happy April Fool's Day.