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Ichigo nearly swallowed his tongue as Shinji in a well-tailored suit gracefully strode into his workplace.
He hadn’t seen the other in over a year, not since they both been in fourth recovering from the blood war. Released after a week, Ichigo had packed up and slipped away from everyone. The hero-worship, and the expectations being thrust on his shoulders, were just too much and he just needs to not be Ichigo, the war hero.
Travelling for a bit he let his hair grow out, then with some brainstorming, he and his inner spirits figured out how to turn his hair black, so he didn’t need to continuously be buying dye. After that, it was easy enough to soften his face with the right kind of make-up, and then the right clothes and most wouldn’t even bat an eye at him and think male war hero Ichigo.
Here, he was just Kazuri, the androgynous host that sometimes stepped in to throw out idiots.
Tampering down harder on his reiatsu and hoped Shinji didn’t look his way. Even if he was curious to know why Shinji was in a random club in Kyoto.
He smiled and entertained his current client, pretending like he wasn’t hyper-alert of Shinji, who had sat down at the bar.
Ichigo nearly sighed in relief as his current client’s time ended, finished for the night. Not glancing towards Shinji, he made his way to the back.
“Kazuri-san, already done for the night?” Sakurai asked as he passed. Giving in to the inevitable, he turned tiredly. Shinji would know as soon as he spoke it was him.
“Boss and I had a deal,” Ichigo answered as he pulled his hair up in a bun, he saw Shinji jolted and nearly knocked his drink over, “I would cover for Aiko but I would get off early tonight before going on days off.”
“Oh, we will miss you while you are off gallivanting, Kaz-chan” Sachiko the other bartender said as she threw an arm over Ichigo’s shoulder.
“I am probably going to be catching up on sleep and doing chores,” Ichigo snorted as he ducked under Sachiko’s arm, “but I am tired tonight, I will see you guys next time I am on shift.”
Sakurai and Sachiko shared a look, but they let him escape saying their goodbyes. Glancing towards where Shinji had sat, gone with money left under his still full drink.
He grabbed his jacket and bag, unsurprised by Shinji was waiting against the alleyway at the back entrance.
Ichigo started walking past him when Shinji grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding, Kazuri.” Shinji purred.
Ichigo sighed, and ripped his hand from Shinji’s grasped, “What do you want, Shinji.”
“You disappeared on everyone. Karin and Yuzu only ever got ‘still alive’ texts, and the rest of nothing, just the paltry ‘see you later’ letter,” Shinji explained, looking angry, “Of course we have been looking, didn’t think I would find you in a host club of all places.”
“Of course,” Ichigo said sardonically, “none of you wanted your weapon to wander too far.”
He knew he was being mean, as Shinji flinched as if someone had slapped him, but ignoring him Ichigo pulled out his pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, using a little of reiatsu to light it. Taking a drag then letting it out, he continued, “So I ask again what you are doing here Shinji”
“There were rumours of a null zone of hollow activity in the area, I decided to check it out,” Shinji explained.
“Knew I should have kept moving, but the job paid well,” Ichigo sighed aloud.
Shinji stared at him as if Ichigo was surprise he wasn’t happy about which Ichigo figured was accurate. Ichigo had changed war, and the aftermath wasn’t easy on a person. He wasn’t a teenager anymore if he ever was.
“If you are just going to stare at me, then we can take this to my apartment. I have had a long shift and don’t feel enjoy explaining to my co-workers about you.” Ichigo said as he turned on his feet and began walking.
Shinji followed him, “Why the hell did you leave?”
Ichigo snorted, “Shinji, I am twice over a war veteran before my twentieth birthday. I couldn’t even drink until three days after I put Yhwach down,” Shinji flinched again, “Tell me what would have happened if I stayed,” Ichigo asked, his voice dripping in contempt, as he slipped down an alleyway, taking the shortcut to his place.
Shinji’s silence said enough, and Ichigo continued, “Exactly. I decided that I was going to do what was best for me, for once. To protect me, be selfish for once in my life.”
They reached his door in silence, and he unlocked it with a shove. It wasn’t the prettiest or most well-kept place. It was cheap, and kind of falling apart, but it was his. It was just a studio, so everything was in the open.
Ichigo had tacked his sketches to the wall, and his futon shoved in the corner beside his desk with all his art supplies.
“Tea?” Ichigo figured he could be at least somewhat of a gracious host even to the unwanted guest.
“Sure,” Shinji muttered distractedly as he stared at the art all over. Of the moments of war and battle, Ichigo sketched, trying to purge the memories after nightmares, of his friends and family when he missed them, of his Zanpakutous when he felt ambitious or insane. (Shiro was a back-seat artist when it came to himself, and the old man had opinions too.)
Leaving Shinji to it, he dropped his jacket and back on the tiny kitchen table and pulled out his teapot and some cups. Stared the kettle and leaned against the counter watching Shinji scan the pictures, with unreserved awe and curiosity. Which made Ichigo’s gut feel fluttered before he stamped that deep down. He thought he got over it.
“You are good,” Shinji compliments, as he had inspected the one-piece Ichigo sketched on Shinji he tacked up. His mask particularly to side, and a smirk showing the eyes of the piece had been the worst, the shape, the colour, the feeling. It was the only one he liked enough to put up.
“Lots of practice,” Ichigo explained as turned back to the kettle to hide the way his face was flushing, “one of my therapists said to try drawing when I got frustrated with not find the right words for journaling.” He was a little nervous having Shinji in his personal space, and it meant he was rambling. Tampering it down, he focused on the tea, on pouring parsing the loose-leaf, and waiting for the water to boil.
“You could have asked me to come with you,” Shinji broke the silence that had settled. He had slipped into one of the kitchen chairs.
“You had your division,” Ichigo didn’t turn to busy himself with the kettle as it clicked, “you were soul society’s,” not mine.
Maybe they were something or could have been before he left, but Ichigo had spent his life putting everyone else first while they put him second. It was diminishing returns. He just wanted a partner that would put him first too, so he didn’t ask.
He nearly dropped the pot when Shinji was up and spinning him around, pressed against the kitchen counter, “I would have followed you anywhere if you just asked,” he snarled.
Ichigo set the kettle aside and pressed a hand against Shinji’s chest, pushing him back, calmly stating “and then eventually you would have left back to Soul Society.”
Shinji looked flabbergasted and Ichigo slipped from between Shinji and the counter, creating space. He grabbed the cups and pot, sitting at the table.
“Ichigo,” Shinji voice was completely serious, as he slipped into the opposite seat, “I haven’t been part of soul society since about a month after you disappeared,” Ichigo’s knee hit the table leg as he jolted in shock, he had to grab his cup as it tried to fall off the table, “It took a week for me to realize this wasn’t a small vacation for you, then two to arrange cover for the fifth because I would not leave them in a lurch.”
Shinji looked serious as if was a completely normal thing to do, and Ichigo was internal flailing with external staring speechless.
“I was going to return eventually,” Ichigo blurted out, “I wouldn’t have missed my sisters’ graduation, and I already figured if I returned then no one would allow me to leave afterwards.”
“I know,” Shinji agreed, it's why most thought he was wasting energy trying to find Ichigo, everyone but Kisuke who had just looked understanding when Shinji asked for help, “but I missed you.”
The tea steeping between them, Ichigo stared at Shinji, trying to see any sign of deception. There wasn’t any, it was unnerving almost by the seriousness Shinji was showing.
“You chased me for a year because you missed me?” Ichigo started slowly.
Shinji laughed, “Well it might be a little more than that, but I am trying not to spook you, Ichigo.”
Ichigo shivered, it was the first time Shinji said his name the entire time, and it caused a flare of fire in his gut.
Denial was well and good when he hadn’t in front of Shinji and hadn’t seen him in months, but sitting in his tiny apartment across from the man, he gave up trying to lie to himself.
He poured the tea carefully, think of the words he wanted to say.
Setting the pot down, he looked up at Shinji would have a shade of worry on his face, Ichigo offered a small smile explaining, “I expected no one to put me first.”
Shinji reached out and grabbed Ichigo’s free hand, “You have been first for me, for years,” Shinji squeezed Ichigo’s hand.
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Ichigo started and when Shinji opened his mouth Ichigo gave him a fond glare, “but I think I am willing to let you prove that to me.”
Shinji beamed, and Ichigo was helpless not to. He was out of his seat and beside Shinji, pulling him close and kissing that smile.
It wasn’t much of a kiss, they were both smiling too much, but it was nice all the same.