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“Ichigo, do you know why you're here?”
The boy in question looked up at the silver haired man who had addressed him, a gleam of defiance in his eyes. He was in a doctor's office, one which was much more modernised than the Kurosaki clinic. But it wasn't just any doctors office, he knew the man who sat before him all too well.
Ryuuken Ishida.
“Yes” He replied simply, provoking a warning look from his Dad.
'Watch your tone' He didn't even need to speak to get the message across. With a muted sigh, Ichigo continued.
“I sent three people to the hospital” He didn't want to expand any further.
“My hospital” Ryuuken corrected him. “And why would you do something like that?”
“Because they were disrespecting someone” Ichigo really didn't want to go further with this.
The doctor looked at him pointedly, making it clear that his answer had not been satisfactory. Ichigo rolled his eyes.
“They were disrespecting Aimi's grave” The boy already knew what was coming and really didn't want to go any further.
“A grave on the pavement?” Ryuuken questioned him with his usual incredulous tone.
“There was a vase”
“So?”
“Someone died there”
“How do you know”
“Just do”
A few moments passed. Ryuuken had his arms crossed, his finger impatiently tapping rhythmically on his medical apparel. In turn, Ichigo scowled at the floor and didn't need to raise his head to know what his father was doing, he could almost feel the disapproving stare boring into the back of his head.
Once Ichigo had solidified the fact that he wasn't going to speak, Ryuuken reached the end of his patience and stated what everyone present had on their mind, albeit with differentiating outlooks.
“You attacked other children because they disrespected a figment of your imagination” He stated, topping off his conclusion with a disappointed and somewhat exasperated sigh.
Ichigo glowered at the doctor, hoping his glare would convey all of the unsaid words he didn't have the energy to speak. He wanted to scream at him, again, about how these people were not "imaginary" and how the “children” - who were just the same age as he was - had desecrated Aimi's place of death. Of course, he was going to teach the offenders a lesson; violence just happened to be the only method he could teach through and boy did it work. But, alas, not even a mutter left his mouth. He had tried that, even screamed at the white haired man until his dad had to be called in to restrain his own son. Now, he was always accompanied by the old man during his doctor appointments, especially with Ryuuken.
“You've not been taking your medication as prescribed, if at all, have you?” The man asked despite already knowing the answer.
“...The side effects” Ichigo uttered weakly, experiencing more difficulty suppressing his verbal defiance than originally anticipated.
“I offered to arrange therapy sessions for you only to be met by your own refusal” Ryuuken responded.
“They just made me feel... ill.. and they didn't even work!” He raised his voice, disregarding the man's last statement.
“Ichigo.”
He flinched as his father scolded him sternly. The man didn't say much, he didn't have to.
“It happens” Ryuuken said simply. “We'll just have to keep trying different medications until we find the one that's right for you. But not yet”
Ichigo turned to stare the man squarely in the eyes.
“I just said they don't work” He reinstated, punctuating each word for emphasis, confusion melded with frustration painted across his face.
“How long did he actually take them for?” The doctor spoke over him, directing his question at Isshin.
“I don't know how long exactly because he wouldn't tell me the truth-”
“I did! I swear, two weeks I did!” Ichigo protested against the false accusation to no avail, his father just continued on, ignoring him.
“-But not long enough, I would know, I also work in the same field”
Ryuuken nodded curtly. “Yes, agreed" He turned his attention to Ichigo, the forceful sense of authority he exuded was practically palpable.
"While I cannot force you to do this, if you're deemed either a danger to yourself or to society due to your violent actions, someone else can” Ryuuken crossed his legs, waiting for his patient expectantly to ensure that his threat did not go unheard.
Ichigo gave the man one last defiant glare, resigning to defeat. It was confirmation enough for the opposing man, allowing him to return to his conversation with Isshin.
“I'll reissue another subscription, although you could do this yourself-”
“I'd rather not let my personal feelings get in the way, plus my clinic is not specialised like departments in your hospital are” He interjected, receiving a tight lipped smile in response before Ryuuken picked up where he left off.
“And I have the understanding that Ichigo lost his last batch so I'll prescribe the initial dosage” He promptly wrote up a prescription for the pharmacy. Isshin took the piece of paper and planted a strong arm on Ichigo's shoulder, signalling that it was time to go.
The old man hadn't always been so stern. He was generally quite goofy and had a habit of surprise-attacking his son in order to “teach” or “discipline” him - no wonder Ichigo always resorted to violence for his own lessons. However, ever since Ichigo had been picked up by the police, everything had changed. From a young age, he would mention his conversation with "people" no one else seemed to know or would stop and wave at thin air. His father had simply deemed it as an overactive childish imagination, something to worry about another day.
However, as he grew older, Ichigo wouldn't shift the idea of talking with invisible "people". In fact, he even went on to name them as "ghosts" with an unmistakable sincerity. It didn't help that he'd managed to get tangled in street violence on a regular with his trusted accomplice and respected friend "Chad", a monster of a boy who rarely spoke. Isshin had turned a blind eye to such activities or at least he had until the police rang in order to inform him that his son had been accused of attempted murder. Ichigo had sworn that he had no intentions of killing anyone, but the compelling evidence and underwhelming excuse of "they disrespected the dead" didn't do him any favours. Fortunately, Isshin had connections in the police force which included a rather influential man by the name of “Byakuya Kuchiki” and was able to paint the case as a grave misunderstanding turned accident.
With little regard to this close call, Ichigo had continued his malicious acts and still blamed spirits, leaving his father no choice but to turn to his own profession to try and fix things.
Recently his old silly self had been reserved for his daughters, alone.
The two walked along the pavement in silence, en route to the local pharmacy. The tension was thick, almost suffocating, and Isshin practically radiated negative vibes. Ichigo kept his eyes trained straight ahead, it was all he could do to prevent himself from crumbling under the pressure of the atmosphere he diligently trudged along in. Just as their destination came into view, Isshin grasped Ichigo's shoulder. The boy reflexively jolted and hunched forward slightly. It took him a measurable amount of seconds before he realised his father had not acted out of malcontent but rather to try to comfort his son. With an embarrassing nervousness, Ichigo looked up to his dad. Worry lines crinkled across the planes of his face which oddly reminded Ichigo of the cracked, water depraved desserts they'd studied at school the year before. Has he always looked this old? He wondered, although he wasn't allowed much time to ponder.
The tall man sighed deeply and took to looking at the sky.
“What are we going to do with you?” He asked absentmindedly. There was no hint of the disappointment the man had harboured in the doctor's office.
Ichigo shrugged and let his gaze shift to the floor, shoulders sinking under his father's grasp.
“I'd say it's okay, but it's not, it's really not” The man went on. “You keep getting yourself tangled up in all of these issues - all of this violence - because of something you can't really control. At least not without help. You've not got the best role models either and I'm not afraid to admit that. There's me and that friend of yours, Chad-”
Ichigo almost jumped to attention, ready to protest on behalf of his friend.
“Who seems like a nice guy but he's in that world, the streets”
He smiled a little instead but a certain somberness hung from his lips.
“And that's not good for you. I don't really know how you got into it all, that's my failings as a parent, and I wish you hadn't but" He paused, contemplating his next move with a thoughtful expression. "It is what is it is"
The man stopped walking and turned to face Ichigo, placing his other hand on Ichigo's remaining shoulder. He looked down at him with a determined flicker in his eyes masquerading the sadness behind them.
“We are going to fix this” He stated firmly, slightly shaking Ichigo as he did so. The boy just stared on in silence with a gaze which was not quite vacant but undeniably close.
“We are going to fix this, we are” The man repeated. Ichigo looked away.
“...I don't know if I can”
“WE. We are. I may be horrible at times, I may scold you and berate you but it's only because I love you and sometimes you need a reality check. You're not alone on this, okay?” The man waited, tolerating the lengthy pause to allow Ichigo to respond in his own time. When he finally looked up, it was with a mix of vulnerability and hope, a strange, unfamiliar combination for Ichigo's face to exhibit so openly. It broke Isshin's heart.
“I'm not alone” He said, quietly.
A grin broke out across the old man's face and he patted Ichigo roughly on the back. Trust his father to ruin the moment.
“That's my boy! Now get back to your old self so I don't have to keep this serious guy thing up for much longer!” He exclaimed triumphantly in his usual tone. Ichigo smiled despite himself.
“Yeah whatever goatface”
Isshin took the mocking as a good sign.
“Now, I'm entrusting you with the task of picking these up for yourself" He encased the prescription within Ichigo's palm. "Don't throw them away this time, or I might start jump-kicking you earlier than I already do!” He threatened jokingly, but there was definitely some form of sincerity behind his words.
With his job done, the man strolled in the direction of his house, hands in his pockets, whistling contentedly.
Ichigo looked numbly at the piece of crumpled paper in his hand and stole a moment for himself. After some contemplation, he decided that he would, in fact, do as he was told, regardless of the cackling in the back of his head.
”You won't kick me out with medicine... king”