Look at me
Chapter eleven: To fight
A/N: Not a fan of my writing, as of late; to be honest. Not a fan.

Although initially, this was my favourite chapter whilst writing it in point form – it, of course, didn't come out how I wanted it to. Or expected, for that matter. Though it's obvious because I've been struggling to write lately (and have been on a hiatus from fanfiction, for those of you who didn't know; since April/early May to be exact) I find myself wondering when my writing muse will actually return to me, in full. But for now—

Enjoy?
(P.S: I never read over my work before posting; so all grammatical errors and whatnot will be fixed eventually. The first half of this was written months ago, whereas the ending was written earlier today.)

Also, in case I don't have anything written for the special event – July 10th will signal my third-year anniversary on fanfiction, and writing; so I thought I'd just like to say thank you guys. For reading, for your support; and for sticking with me through these years.

Thank you.

-X-

The soft sound of footsteps could be heard; echoing frivolously and sporadically throughout the spacious halls of Karakura town's most designated hospital. Despite the late hour to the day, as most doctors made their dismissal known – others were simply starting their shift as they prepared for the long-haul to work over night. It was within this atmosphere did a teenager walk quietly towards the reception's desk; only to bypass it without a second thought and instead head elsewhere. However, such areas were required admitted authority – therefore a ruckus (albeit silently) or perhaps some sort of quarrel began to form amongst a few of the on-call nurses.

Not that the teenager cared.

No. Ichigo was here for one purpose and one purpose only. He had known since the moment in which Ishida had pushed him away earlier in the day – that something had been wrong. And to be honest, that much, he expected. It was in seeing Ryuken – actually watching for the first time, as both father and son of the Ishida household interacted did Ichigo come to understand the meaning behind those glances.

Those small, subtle hints which Ishida had given him in the past in regards to his and Ryuken's relationship at home. Or really, lack thereof. Which is what brought him to understand as well, the consequences elsewhere, due to his carelessness. It made him realize that not only Uryu was affected by the outcome, but others as well.

And that's what brought him here, now.

Making his way down the hall, ever silent with squared shoulders; an aura of determination wafted perhaps unexpectedly from the teenager's form.

It just so happened to be that elsewhere, a thin line of smoke wafted effortlessly through the air; having escaped an employee's mouth through thinly parted lips. The director's office, however quiet, still held within it the very man whom sat patiently - already having anticipated the unannounced arrival, despite the current shock of the nearby staff members.

Trailing his gaze towards his right, atmospheric coloured optics glanced towards the machine which flashed periodically in alert. Though he was well aware as to the response which would be given upon answering the call, a single, pale index finger pressed to the device—listening quietly to the female's rasp as she quickly began to sputter nonetheless.

"Sir—there's a boy here to see you, w—I think. He just walked by and—"

"Dismissed." He replied simply, removing his finger. "It's fine."

Turning in his chair and facing the door, he needn't look up to see the approach. Despite having long ago brushed the very thought of being a Quincy aside, his powers had in no way dwindled – that much, was certain. Therefore, this hadn't been the first time which he had sensed the boy; but merely hours prior as well, outside his offspring's so-called 'home'. He was no fool, and was well aware that Ichigo had been with his son at the time of his 'visit'. Though he knew Uryu would sense him immediately – or the very least, had assumed he would (it shouldn't have been a surprise to him when he hadn't, considering the major gap within his loss of memory) for some reason, it didn't come to him as a shock that Ichigo had eavesdropped; nor did it surprise him that he both stood there and watched, either.

Like father like son. He mused, relating the boy to his own family members. How very ironic.

Perhaps he shouldn't have disregarded some of those facts. Yet had he brought up to Uryu about their audience at the time – this meeting might not have brought itself into the open; and this was something the doctor had silently anticipated. He simply hadn't known when the cause to his son's lapse of memory would come forth; but he supposed today was as good as any. (However, the fact that Ichigo were responsible had yet to be brought out and into the open. Such things were of Ryuken's own fabricated assumptions.)

Although, through these thoughts – something occurred. A brief, yet quiet knock echoed firmly along the offices inner barriers. Judging by the reiatsu which stood at the opposite side, somewhat shaky yet somehow firm – it was obvious as to whom was standing there. But even more obvious, was what they were to do.

Eyeing the door contemplatively just as the reiatsu beneath began to fluctuate; a single brow arched in question – curious, yet unyielding.

Perhaps the other is trying far too hard to remain composed in this sort of situation, he pondered. Nevertheless—

"Come."

Voicing no more than this, his tone stern, his eyes narrowed - azure orbs watched silently through thin lashes as the door's handle shook with applied pressure; only to then slowly be turned, bringing forth with it, Kurosaki Ichigo.

Although he's unsure as to what prompts him to speak first, perhaps it's the fact that the boy is staring at him quietly with a determined and somewhat threatening gaze– or maybe it's due to something else; honestly, he doesn't really care which it is. All he knows is that as he parts his lips to speak to the other – to voice aloud his opinions on certain subjects, its then that Ichigo decides to speak. Interrupting him, of course.

"With all due respect, sir, I came here to ask that you leave Ishida alone."

Feeling his brows pull towards one another, however slight; a simple drag is taken once more: inhaled and exhaled as the doctor's features begin to relax. "Is that so?"

Watching as orange brows do the same, crease within the middle of the male's child-like features as tanned lips begin to purse; he waits.

"I know that my dad came to you; that he told you what happened in regards to Ishida—your son. Though I'm not sure what exactly he told you, to be specific. But I know that—I know that Ishida—none of this is his fault. He has nothing to do with this. And you messing with him repeatedly sure as hell isn't making it any easier for him."

Arching a subtle brow and releasing yet another breath – this one like the first, streaming with smoke; Ryuken closes his eyes. Gaze averted, if only for the time span in which it takes him to reach forward, tap the end of his cigarette against the ash tray and lift it; the next time his gaze lifts, it's to glance directly at the younger; eye him for a moment as he begins to speak once more. "Such things are none of your concern." He knows this already – what Ichigo has spoken. The information he's been given and it couldn't be any more obvious.

However, he supposes there's a small amount of him which should give Ichigo an 'A' for his effort, so to speak; for having the courage to come forth and say it on his own. Although, the information Ichigo's been providing him with is simply that of a distraction; he's telling Ryuken the obvious, things he's previously been aware of. Not the information in which Ichigo assumes he doesn't know. The other is leaving out key, important facts - the only ones which Ryuken is inclined to hear.

The rest he doesn't care for.

"But that is—"

As Ichigo's scowl deepens and his hands begin to clench at his sides, it's not the whitening of the Substitute's knuckles that fazes the doctor; nor is it the baring of teeth. In fact, as the silence wafts its way between them and throughout the room, he nearly assumes the other is finished – that he can't think of anything more to say and that the conversation is over until… Well until it has finally been said aloud.

"It was my fault." Ichigo finally speaks; his shoulders relaxing as each individual finger unclenches from his tightly enclosed fist. Pausing for a moment to wet his lips and take a breath, his chin slowly tilts upwards – his gaze lifting in the meanwhile as he meets Ryuken's stare directly and presses onwards. "It's my fault Ishida lost his memories, alright?"

This time it's Ryuken's turn to remain silent within the depths of the room. However, even as that feeling which he would like to point out that somehow he had known the reason for his son's current position rears its ugly head in, he cannot help but feel his brows pull towards one another once more, his lips pursing as Ichigo's had and most noticeably: his eyes beginning to narrow. Despite the fact that he had known that Isshin had been careful in leaving something out when they spoke – despite him coming to certain conclusions and assuming what could have been the cause, he cannot help his reaction. However small and miniscule in comparison to the large picture – and perhaps even unnoticeable to the naked eye; it's still there.

Anger.

Anger which is growing inside of him, for he knew that the missing factor of the entire situation had been standing there in front of him the entire time. He simply remained reluctant to place the puzzle pieces together, for perhaps not his own sake, but the boy's. It wasn't as though he couldn't control his own thoughts, opinions, and reaction to the knowledge, however…

"I already know that you'll probably hate me for this – hell, I can't exactly blame you. And to be honest, I don't care what you think of me – what you do to me, or what your opinions are. I just came here to get you to leave Ishida alone. Because even if you're trying to be a caring parent, you're sure as hell doing a shitty job about it – and it's affecting Ishida in the opposite way than you'd probably assume." A brief pause.

"But I'm not leaving until I know that you'll cut him some slack. As I said, I could care less what you do or say— hell, I probably deserve whatever's coming to me, just… Leave Ishida out of this."

The fact that Ichigo doesn't care, perhaps astonishes Ryuken. He knows that by now, he should expect such a response from the man whom was born and bred from him; though it still ceases to amaze him. In a partial sense, at least.

For in fact, Ryuken's in no way 'impressed' by the younger male's seemingly foolish reaction, and should he ever be – would leave much to be remarked upon. "I'll give you one thing," He begins. "Kurosaki Ichigo, you have gull, guts, nerve – whatever you'd like to call it, if you will." Reaching towards his right and tapping the end of his cigarette, it's this time does he press it into the tray – grinding the spent bud against the cool ceramic to put it out as his gaze lifts towards the other; his expression becoming that of an emotionless void. Perhaps he should give the other one thing: congratulations on getting this sort of reaction out of him.

"Have it your way, then." Was the uttered response, both low yet demanding as he began to rise from his chair. Lifting his gaze all the more and pushing the object out from beneath his legs; its then do his eyes flicker with a hint of… something, as he meets the teenager's lingering, uncertain gaze.

And then he moves.

-X-

The pull of a string causes the elastic to strain – the tightness in which the archer has pulled it obviously stronger than the bow's used to being held. Though despite this, using a regular, wooden long bow for practice enables him to get the hang of powers he once lost, yet regained unknowingly; allowing him enough leeway to deem himself worthy of using the new bow that he had gained as well.

Pulling his arm back and lowering his elbow, the arrow is released sharply, resulting in a dull 'thwack' sound as it snaps brutally and plunges into the target's middle. Lowering both arms and glancing upwards, through the downwards slide of glasses; he can see it's reached the core.

Resulting in success.

Feeling the pull and press of muscles within his arms, slowly, Ishida's begun to recognize new muscle groups he hadn't been aware that had formed, due to his loss of memory. It's not only that, but as he lifts and lowers his arms he can feel it – the sting where the surgery had been, the swelling of newly developed muscle; as well as the pressure currently being applied to his body out of his own need to practice, to get better. Yet despite the soreness of his body's current state, he can't help but feel… Content. As though he's achieved something.

However, there are still some things which have yet to be answered. Seeing as his friends can't exactly tell him the knowledge in which they, themselves, are unaware of; he's left with some blanks. Not knowing how or when he had received his bow, or the weapons which he had found back at home – he silently ponders how he had retrieved such things in a short amount of time.

But then again… He ponders, lips pressing together in thought. Seeing as he's lost two years of his memory, it must have been longer living out that experience, than trying to remember it all at once.

Metaphorically speaking, of course. Considering these are memories he's talking about. In fact—each individual moment which occurs now, is in its own right – a memory as well.

…Speaking of memories.

Feeling his gaze flicker as his eyes begin to blink, he can't help but glance over his shoulder towards the Urahara shop and think about the other. Kurosaki, the very teenager whom – had they met during other circumstances, he probably would have disliked; though he supposes he sort of did… or does. But he's no longer aware of it now.

Though he knew he had no right to be. Angered – towards Ichigo, that is. Or anything of the sort.

Not only had the other been helping him regain his memories, he seemed to be the only one who understood. Perhaps there was some space in between – some parts he was missing, and without those key components, he was unable to cross the bridge. The metaphorical one that would allow him to understand all that he currently misunderstood; the one which would make him let out an elongated breath in finally understanding. He knew there had to be more to it, other than guilt pressuring Ichigo to help him out; he supposed he'd just need to find out what or why that was. Well…

After he apologizes, that is. Considering the last time he had spoke with Kurosaki… He had been pushing him away. Again.

Rolling his eyes and letting out a breath, the archer glanced elsewhere as he began to shake his head. Lowering the bow once more, this time towards the ground, he can't help but wonder if that entire ordeal was completely necessary or not. Of course, in order to rid Ichigo of his presence, something drastic would have been needed – that much, he knew. He'd need to be either pushy or convincing; neither of which he remembered how to do. For Ichigo wasn't someone he had known for two years anymore, he was somewhat he had known for a few weeks due to forgetting; and he was unsure how to push the other gently in the right directions when things were necessary or required of him. Therefore he had done the only thing he knew would be sure to work.

Push Ichigo away with verbal, hurtful words. Only because Ryuken had been there.

Shaking his head once more and closing his eyes, a sudden breath emits through parted lips. Of course, there must have been better ways – easier ways to go about doing that, yet at the time, he hadn't stopped to think about it. Surely he'd owe Ichigo yet another apology, one which would be accompanied by an explanation, for better understanding at that. As well as—

Bzzt – bzzt,

Momentarily startled by the sudden vibrations, Ishida's gaze flickered once more – this time towards his pocket. Reaching within his pants and removing the device, his thumb gently hooks beneath the phone's screen before flipping it – allowing him to view the name of the messenger.

Ishida Ryuken.

Clearly displeased; his emotions obvious due to his sudden change in expression - manicured brows crease upon the middle of his forehead as Ishida slowly began to frown.

Why Ryuken's texting him, he has no idea – hell, he doesn't know how the man even managed to get his phone number, let alone have the nerve to text him whenever he pleases. Though despite this, something urges him to read the text, to press the pad of his finger against the button and scroll for a moment before beginning to read. (But perhaps that's just curiosity – rather than anything else.) At the very least, that's what he chalks it up to.

How fortunate for you, that you may live on your own. Seeing as you have foolish friends who're so willing to place themselves before you, I've come to this conclusion. However, should your own stubborn pride and foolishness result in your death or the death of others, such things are consequences you'll have to live with. That is all.

Confused; once more did Ishida's eyebrows evidently begin to furrow. The only thing he gathered from Ryuken's strategically placed words was that, due to someone – he had decided that Uryu could live on his own. Which meant that someone Uryu knew had gone to Ryuken behind his back (and without his consent) to talk with him, on his behalf. But there was no one who would—

…Or perhaps there was.

As realization slowly began to sink in, azure coloured optics widened from behind loose frames. Reaching up abruptly to adjust his glasses, once more did Ishida turn his head in order to glance elsewhere. Judging by the current shade of the night's sky, he had to have been training out here for a solid five or six hours; which meant that Ichigo – after Ryuken had left… Must have gone to the hospital during the night shift in order to speak with his father.

That idiot.

Grinding his teeth together and reaching down, pale hands gripped at his haphazardly placed objects in order to place the bow within its case and shrug it over his shoulder. Both fluid in completing the motion and unable to comprehend as to why Ichigo would go to such lengths – it's in deeming the elder (internally, of course) an idiot does he step towards the hilltop and head towards an unfamiliar home.

One laced with Ichigo's reiatsu.

-X-

Through the quiet sounds of passing cars, of moving individuals and parents walking their kids home – the lone Quincy's gaze flickers simultaneously in glancing up at the Kurosaki residence's most obvious front door. Although, even though his arm has been poised in such a position for many minutes: hand raised, fist clenched in order to knock against the wooden door; something halts his movements, though he's uncertain once more – as to what that may be. Or why.

Eyebrows creasing and fingers curling, it's after a moment's hesitation does the archer lower his hand. Searching, for something, perhaps a sign of familiarity of those whom live within the home; the only thing that's brought to his attention, is that Ichigo's the only one residing inside of the house currently.

Which is hardly a surprise.

The last of what he could recall, Ichigo often remained home alone; opting to ignore such family outings or anything of the sort. Why Ichigo did so, the Quincy didn't know – though for some reason, it all seemed far too normal for his lack of knowledge on the subject.

Of course, perhaps that was simply due to his memory loss: why things seemed familiar, yet he can't recall. Nevertheless—

Reaching down and grasping the door's handle, the object's turned slowly – carefully. When the abrupt click signals that the door's yet to be locked, manicured brows press towards one another as the Quincy slowly, but surely, enters the Substitute's home.

Walking quietly onto the threshold; there's a brief pause in which Ishida's movements halt near the door, in order to remove his shoes. Pressing his palm carefully against the flat of the door, the object is also pushed shut – for security purposes, as he toes the previously mentioned objects onto a nearby rack.

Lifting his body from his hunched positioning, azure orbs flicker contemplatively throughout the quiet abode. Taking one step, and then another; he slowly progresses across the household, towards the stairs – and then up them. For some reason – although he can't recall being situated in such a place; everything seems familiar. From the homey appearance, to the very aura which engulfs the home – it doesn't escape his notice that he's felt as though he's been here before. So much so, that he somehow knows in going up the stairs and turning towards his right; the door remaining almost immediately in front of his face, is the one which belongs to Kurosaki Ichigo.

Though his uncertainty tells him he knows this, simply because of the reiatsu which surrounds the door. But he knows better.

"Kurosaki?" Speaking quietly and stepping forward, there's yet another, brief pause. Pressing himself closer, though not too close, in front of the door; dark brows remained pressed towards one another as no sound emits in reply.

Well, it seems as though he has no choice then.

Taking ahold of the handle and turning the knob, it takes no more than a few seconds – perhaps a minute, for the archer to enter the teenager's bedroom. For a moment, he doesn't notice the piled form resting atop of the bed, due to the downturned lights within the room. However… It's as the face turns towards him, and a familiar scowl meets the archer's gaze does he find himself slowing his strides and blinking carefully. "Kurosa—"

"You know," Ichigo's voice cuts him off. Somewhat ragged, yet otherwise the same. "This counts as breaking and entering."

The response prompts the archer to snort; the quick roll of his eyes signalling how utterly foolish he finds Ichigo's behaviour, yet amusing all the same. Stepping up closer, his lips parted in the beginning of what could be considered a comeback – it's in stepping further into the room, and closer to the window which shows the slightest bit of light does Ishida notice the fine lines of scars upon the Substitute's features; as well as the blood.

And what immediately hits him as guilt.

Though he's surprised Ryuken could have done this – for he doesn't believe it, at first; there's no mistaking the thin threads of the eldest remaining Quincy's spiritual pressure which wafts from Ichigo's wounds.

These could only be the result of spiritual particles being shot by arrows; which means it's fairly obvious as to who was the one to make them.

Shifting his positioning, lifting a leg – a few more steps are taken in approaching the teen as Ishida's features slowly begin to contort. Brows creasing, nose wrinkling, and hands clenching in the slightest; pale fingertips reach out, out of instinct more than anything else – to graze gently over a small scrape just beneath the substitute's eye.

Feeling the cool press of Uryu's fingertip and wincing at the touch, a slight hiss escapes him through clenched teeth as the Substitute tenses against the mattress.

Glancing upwards, smouldering hues flicker wordlessly towards the Quincy's form. Watching, quietly, as a look of guilt and perhaps something more begins to morph the archer's features, Ichigo can't help but allow his scowl to deepen in contrast. Reaching up and pressing his palm to the younger's intrusive hand, a look of affirmation graces the orange haired teen's features as he mutters under his breath. "Cut that out, will ya? You're like an open book. I swear if you begin to think that this is your fault, I'm going to have to punch you in the face."

Frowning, eyebrows creasing further into their downturned angle, Ishida's hand becomes lax within Ichigo's grip; though his expression remains. Opening his mouth the smallest fraction, stilling, and letting out a breath; it's in allowing his gaze to flicker once more over the noticeable wounds that he finds himself speaking, regardless of Ichigo's protests. "It doesn't matter, Kurosaki. What I think or what I say. The fact is, you were still reckless over certain ordeals which did not concern you. You didn't have to go to Ryuken, despite what was going on – yet even so, you did. For that… I am grateful; though still owe you an apology." There's a quick moment in which the archer pauses, expression faltering; before he quietly adds, "If not for what happened, then for earlier as well."

Staring for a moment, albeit silently and at a loss for words; Ichigo's gaze flickers along the teenager's features as his body begins to relax. He had known that the Quincy would find out, to be honest; and expected no less from the perceptive teen – but for some reason… Even as he became aware of what the archer was feeling; his intentions remained unwavering and his decision final.

"It's not your fault." He repeated, hand loosening its current grip on the younger's wrist. "I know you well enough by now to know when you're bluffing, so that's why I did what had to be done. Thank me? There's no need for you to do that."

Staring, somewhat speechless – and baffled for thought; Ishida stills. Line of sight remaining as it were; locked onto chocolate irises which gazed back at him, Ishida found himself pausing for a second… perhaps two; before the softest of chuckles escaped him unexpectedly through parted lips and cerulean irises slid shut in response.

Honestly.

"You truly are a wonder, Kurosaki Ichigo." Murmuring quietly and voicing such thoughts aloud, Uryu's gaze slowly lifts in returning to Ichigo's own – holding onto the others' vision as he continues with quietly spoken words. "How I could ever have assumed that we'd be less than friends in the past, is beyond me. For even though you're insufferable – and annoying at times, it seems as though… You truly do, understand." Feeling the corners of his lips twitch upwards a fraction, a final input is added. "You're astoundingly remarkable."

If Ichigo didn't know any better – he'd say that was a compliment. That the very archer whom not too long ago (or at least, it felt like not that long ago) stated on countless of occasions, that they were very far from being friends was currently complimenting him, and stating otherwise. Though even as he tried to convince himself that such things were his own fabricated, false images; the Quincy standing before him proved to add reality to such situations, causing the most unexpected of flushes to grace his features.

And once more, he scowls. "Shut up—" Muttering quietly and turning his head away, Ichigo removes his hand immediately from the teenager's wrist. Hearing the soft, slight sounds of Ishida chuckle at this; he can't help but roll his eyes – though not failing to notice the slight upwards curve to Ishida's lips.

"Come now, Kurosaki; there's no need to be embarrassed. Modest, perhaps; but embarrassed, no." Sliding his now-free hand against the cushioned mattress, Ishida contemplates his next actions before pressing himself away from the bed. Ignoring Ichigo's confused expression and sudden turning of his head as he stares after the Quincy – Ishida simply reaches out to flick on the nearest light switch as he makes his way into the attached bathroom, within the teenager's room.

"Bandages." Is the only word to escape his lips, allowing the teenager to guess for himself; what, exactly, the archer intends to do. But for some reason… Even as the amused smirk remains on his lips, he finds himself halting; hand poised on the door's frame as his smile slowly begins to fade, and his expression becomes all the more serious.

"One more thing, Kurosaki…" He murmurs, under his breath. Waiting for the slight upwards arch of a familiar brow, Ishida's not entirely sure which causes the slight fluctuation of his heart as it beats beneath his rib cage; all that he knows is what he's about to say… however foolish, comes with a certain amount of sincerity that can't be placed. Because—"I… As much as I wish to recall my past, and remember all that has been long-since forgotten… I can't help but feel as though – or really, think that it was good that things turned out this way. Ah—that is… Seeing as it's allowed me to view things from an entirely different point of view."

Blinking rapidly in response to this, watching as Ishida clears his throat along the last few words spoken; the slight widening of Ichigo's eyes happens within the same moment the teenager flushes – and he watches both wordlessly and curiously as Ishida adjusts his glasses.

Though he's parted his lips to reply to the other—to voice his opinion and state it out loud, Ichigo finds he can do nothing but watch as Ishida shrugs the whole thing off; throwing a wave over his shoulder as he enters the bathroom in searching for the previously mentioned bandages to aid Ichigo's torn wounds. However… Despite the fact that Ishida moved, and is no longer in sight; Ichigo finds himself closing his lips at a gradual pace and speaking - quietly, though to himself and only on some levels whilst a brief pang of guilt flitters through his system.

"Yeah… Me too."

-X-

To be continued.