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Ichigo’s pretty sure it’s been more than three weeks.
He’s not exactly expecting Ryuuken to kick him out, but he’s also not expecting the lack of “get out of my house, Kurosaki”, not even hints. It’s a little terrifying, but he can’t help the relief.
Uryuu’s as prickly as ever, but not even Ichigo can deny he’s caring, just in his own way. He pulls Ichigo this way and that, demanding he get a new wardrobe and widen his tastes than “out-of-style shirts and outlandish ripped jeans”.
Ichigo’s pretty sure Kon bought the purple skinny jeans out of pettiness, but he actually feels it does good things for his ass. He somehow managed to totter those over to Uryuu’s along with his favorite T-shirt.
Orihime and Chad come by Uryuu’s house at least three times a week. Ryuuken disappears whenever they’re around, but he always has refreshments sent over before Uryuu gets around to it. There’s almost always something chocolatey in there, which is endearing.
Uryuu grumbles about his father doting on Ichigo more than his actual son, but Ichigo doesn’t miss the new sets of clothing set on his bed each week, all of them complete with Quincy crosses sewn somewhere on them.
It feels a lot like they’re staking their claim. He hasn’t felt so at peace since he lost Zangetsu, which is saying a lot considering he ripped out a portion of his soul.
Karin and Yuzu visit every other day. Sometimes Yuzu brings food, while other times she manages to strong-arm herself a spot in the kitchen. He knows for a fact the kitchen staff adore her.
In any case, Ichigo has never and will never be mad at them. It was never their fault for what happened. He told them what happened, what he went through, because he doesn’t want to follow in Isshin’s footsteps. He won’t make that mistake.
But as much of a recovery he’s made, there are bad days too.
Sometimes he lays in bed for hours after he wakes, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts go through his brain, but he doesn’t quite comprehend them.
He hears the door open and close quietly. Footsteps pad on the soft rug before a shadow falls over him. Uryuu’s face leans over his, not too close. He murmurs softly, “Is it a bad day?”
Ichigo doesn’t even have the capacity to nod his head, only close his eyes and sigh. It’s raining hard today, rumbling with thunder in the distance.
Uryuu hums and gently pushes Ichigo towards the wall. He shucks off his slippers and clambers onto the bed to lay on his back, pressed close to Ichigo’s side. Lacing his hands on his stomach, they lie there in silence.
Uryuu doesn’t need words to say something. Ichigo leans into his warmth, his presence, and knows he’s not alone.
And yet, yet , revulsion crawls across his skin at the thought of how helpless he is. He has a glorified babysitter and a doctor on call, and he’s more or less watched throughout the day. They watch what he eats, what he does, all because he cannot do it himself. The thought is pathetic.
Uryuu snatches his wrist and forces his hand to uncurl. Deep crescent marks bite deep into his palm, evidence to his turmoil.
“Stop. Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” Uryuu squeezes his hand once before letting go. He turns his head slightly, a frown on his face. “If you’re thinking you’re a burden, you had better get that out of your head before I beat it out of you.”
A huff slips through his lips. Uryuu hmphs loudly before sitting up. “Don’t think I won’t.”
His threat is countered by the fact he pours water and forces Ichigo to take some sips by tilting it against his mouth. Uryuu clicks his tongue. “If you don’t think I’ll beat you up, I’ll send Yuzu to convince you.”
There’s a collective silence that falls upon the room. Those who have made Yuzu cry usually suffer consequences that come from various sources. Even the Karakura thugs are aware of the danger.
Someone knocks on the door lightly. Uryuu goes to answer it, conversing softly with what must be the maid. He comes back, searching Ichigo’s face. Whatever he sees must be his answer, because he goes on to say, “There’s chocolate chiffon cake for tea today.”
Normally Uryuu harps on eating a hearty breakfast, but it seems he has let it go for today. He coaxes Ichigo from his bed, picking out clothes like a mother hen. Ichigo forces himself to dress and follow Uryuu outside his room.
There’s shouting.
“Sir, you’re trespassing!”
“Please, leave!”
“You can’t keep me from my son!”
Ichigo pales so fast, he has to take a knee. He sits on a step, hands clutching the steps tightly. They’re half-hidden by the intricate, twisted banister, just a step down from the second floor. Uryuu looks torn between telling off their unexpected guest and staying with Ichigo. He doesn’t need to make the choice because Ryuuken comes from the dining room.
“Isshin,” Ryuuken says stiffly. He gives a spare glance to Uryuu, but doesn’t make a move to go over. It would only confirm Ichigo’s presence in that direction. Uryuu doesn’t make a move to stand by Ryuuken’s side. Instead, he pulls at his phone and begins to tap away furiously. “You’re not welcome here.”
“I don’t want to be here either,” Isshin protests loudly. Ichigo stifles a noise as Uryuu grabs his hand and squeezes tightly as though to remind him he’s here. Oh god, he feels sick, he shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today. “Just here to collect my son. He’s probably getting lazy lounging about here.”
And it hurts , the way he jokes about it, like there’s nothing wrong with Ichigo.
Uryuu can almost hear Ryuuken’s teeth grinding. He sighs, rubbing his forehead irately. “No one is ‘lounging’ here. He is here for recovery.”
“He can recover at home,” Isshin argues, striding towards the stairs. Every step is like the footsteps of an executioner’s boots tapping against the gallows. Uryuu fingers lace against his hands, keeping him from digging his nails into his head.
“Do not take another step.”
His warning goes unheeded as Isshin stalks up the stairs. He immediately spots Ichigo’s hair through the cream colored walls and dark carpet.
“Ichigo, you’ve been here long enough. It’s time to go home.”
He scrambles backward quickly, ripping away from Uryuu in his haste. “Don’t! Don’t you dare.”
“I’m your father,” Isshin snaps, clearly fed up. He shoves Uryuu away from Ichigo. “I know what’s best for you-”
“YOU DON’T!” It feels liberating to scream. For the first time, as far as he can remember, he has never screamed at him before. The temptation had been great before, but never acted out upon. It tears at his throat and scratches like thorns, but it feels freeing. “YOU NEVER DID!”
Isshin’s face contorts with anger and his cheeks are ruddy in color. It’s the first time he’s seen such a violent emotion on his face and it terrifies him. Ichigo sucks in a breath, watching his hand reach for him like an axe swinging down.
Isshin doesn’t get very far.
“ Shiten Kōshun! ”
His hand cracks down on a golden shield. The resultant force from his hand blows back on him, sending him tumbling down the stairs.
Orihime and Chad stand at the open door, both breathing heavily and soaked from the rain. Her hands are out, having casted a quick shield. Gentle Orihime’s face is furious and wild. She looks as though she might take Isshin on with a Koten Zanshun.
“Ichigo doesn’t want to go with you,” Orihime snaps. She lowers her arms but she’s tense, ready to cast again if need be. Chad nods solemnly. “Leave him alone.”
“I told you to stay away from him,” Isshin argues, pulling himself up from the sprawl. “You’re all making it worse for him-”
“No,” Chad says quietly. “ You’re making it worse. You need to stop and look at what you’ve done.”
“Vacate my property, or I shall help you.” There’s the quick sound of a bow powering up and then Ryuuken’s pointing an arrow at Isshin. He looks murderous, which isn’t new, but it’s on Ichigo’s behalf. “This has gone on for long enough. Ichigo is your only son and you nearly lost him for good. There are no more chances.”
For all that Isshin is reckless, even he knows when he’s outmatched. He gnashes his teeth and shuts his eyes tightly. “Fine! But eventually, Ichigo has to come home.”
“He doesn’t,” Ryuuken says succinctly as he herds Isshen towards the door. “As a mandated reporter, I could very well report your actions to the police and you’d lose custody of your daughters as well.”
It’s the final nail in the coffin. Isshin crumples like wet paper at the idea and hangs his head like he’s the victim. “Fine, I get it. I’ll go.”
Ryuuken shoves him out the door before he can give Ichigo a pleading look. He doesn’t think he can handle that. It might only take a single apology and he’ll fold in saying everything’s forgiven.
When the door closes, everyone blows out a gusty sigh.
“Ichigo, are you alright?” Orihime trots up the stairs to kneel in front of him. Chad follows closely, a silent protector.
It’s a little bit ironic that he’s the one being protected. Uryuu and Chad are pressed close to his side like three peas in a pod while Orihime’s got his hands clutched in hers. A maid comes to give them both a towel to dry themselves off.
“Goodness, your hands are colder than mine!” Orihime exclaims, concern etched on her face. She’s barely finished her sentence and already the other two lift him by his arms and haul him straight for the Their room.
Because in Their room is a massive bean bag purposely built to comfortably fit at least seven people. Whether it was the four of them, or six with Karin and Yuzu, it was big enough for everyone.
There’s already a couple of soft, fuzzy blankets neatly folded on the side table, which Uryuu takes as Chad practically throws him into the bean bag. Two maids follow after them, one holding a hair dryer in her hands and the other with a plate of snacks. A butler comes inside holding a pitcher of what smells like hot chocolate.
Orihime chatters on, mostly answered by Uryuu, but Chad chimes in every now and then. Ichigo’s still on the bean bag, half leaning against Uryuu as the other’s dry their hair.
The two of them squeeze in close on the bean bag and then Uryuu’s throwing the blankets on top of them in the mish mash way they all like.
It all happens so fast (he’s actually probably in shock), that Ichigo’s still reeling in the aftermath. Before he knows it, there’s a piping hot mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream in his hands. “What just happened?”
“A bad dream,” Orihime chirps innocently, pulling the blanket up to her lap. It does feel like a bad dream, but this also feels like a dream. It’s a strange dream, but it feels good to hope it never ends.
“We can have brunch in here,” Uryuu announces, and he’s already texting on his phone, presumably a house staff. “We’ve all had a tiring morning.”
At this point, it doesn’t even matter what just happened. Ichigo sinks back into the bean bag, laughing hysterically. It’s a good laugh, although a little confused.
They have brunch in Their room, and everything is forgotten as Uryuu accidentally snorts hot chocolate up his nose.
If it’s a dream, at least it’s eventful.