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Chapter Text

Ichigo was just out for a drink or two after class that Friday night. He was a couple years into his medical program at Tokyo University. He just needed to relax and unwind after a particularly rough week with tests and the like. He didn’t think anything of going out to this bar; he’d been many times since he turned twenty. It was a nice clean place, and he never doubted his safety there. Granted, Ichigo didn’t doubt his safety anywhere. He knew he could still take care of himself even if he didn’t have his Shinigami powers anymore.

He was leaving when he heard the weak, pleading voice calling for help. He paused, glancing down the alleyway and saw movement. He didn’t think anything of it, he just went to see if there was something he could do. He didn’t see that there were men in the darkness, and as he got closer, one dark figure pulled out a gun and shot the cowering figure across the ally. Ichigo stopped, eyes going wide, and realized he’d been spotted.

He turned and tried to run but was tackled from behind by someone that was a lot closer than he anticipated. He felt the concrete rough under his cheek as he was dragged to his feet back down the alleyway.

He found himself facing a man with black hair spiked all over his head and a gun. “What is this? A witness?”

Ichigo stared at him. “I didn’t see a thing,” he said, trying to look serious.

The man who was holding him chuckled. “Good try,” he said.

“Show him what happens to witnesses, boys,” the one with the gun said.

Ichigo didn’t know how long it lasted, but there were three of them who laid into him. He fought back, of course, but he was dulled due to the drinks he’d had, and he wasn’t very effective. He was eventually bloodied and on his knees staring up the barrel of the gun.

“Now, what to do? Oh, add your body to this one,” he said and there was a click. Ichigo closed his eyes, ready to make his way to Soul Society for sure.

“Freeze!” he heard and turned his head to see men running down the ally.

“Fuck,” the one with the gun said and took off, the ones holding him running after him, leaving Ichigo teetering there until he fell over.

Soon, he was in the back of an ambulance, but he didn’t remember how he got there. He looked over and saw a paramedic doing something, so he just shut his eyes for a little while since he was very, very tired. When he next woke up, he was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.

“Son?” he heard.

He turned his head and saw his father. “Pop?” he said, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your emergency contact, remember? They called me when they brought you in. You got beat up pretty bad. What happened?”

Ichigo shook his head, which felt funny. “I heard someone call for help down the ally. I went to see what was happening, and I saw this man shoot another one. Then they grabbed me, and I tried to fight them but there were three guys, and I wasn’t all the way sober. They were going to shoot me, but the cops showed up,” he explained.

His father sighed. “Son, this could be bad.”

“I know that,” he said as a couple of officers came into the room.

“Ichigo Kurosaki?” one of them asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking between them.

“I’m Officer Mabuchi Tatsuno, Kurosaki-san. And this is my partner Gesshin Nakatani,” the first one, the taller one with hair pulled back in a long black tail, said.

Nakatani was shorter and just nodded in acknowledgement. Ichigo looked between them. “Okay, I guess you want to know what I saw, huh?”

“Yeah, just in your own words,” Tatsuno said, pulling out a notebook and a pen.

Ichigo went through the explanation again, almost the same one he’d given his father, and watched as the two men took down his information. They didn’t say anything while he explained what happened, and then they both looked at him when he was done.

“You don’t have any identifying features of any of these men?” Nakatani asked.

“It was dark in the alleyway. I just saw the guy with the gun had spiked hair, but that was about it,” he said.

The two officers didn’t look like they were interested in what they were doing. “Okay, well, I’d watch your back for a while. Guns are hard to come by in Tokyo, so it was probably Yakuza. You didn’t identify anyone directly, so that’s good, but you never know what they’ll do,” Tatsuno said with a shrug. “We’ll look into the murder, though, see if the bullet matches anything else.”

“That’s it?” Ichigo said, a little incredulous. “That’s all you’re going to do for that guy that got killed?”

“Listen, kid, there’s not much we can do,” Nakatani said. “We’ll do what we can, but you might want to go back to Karakura Town where you’re from.”

“How do you know that?” Ichigo frowned.

“We already talked to your father, so we know about where you used to live,” Tatsuno said. “I’d watch out, though.”

With that, they left, leaving Ichigo wondering what was going to happen. He looked at his father. “What should I do?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, son, but maybe coming home would be a good idea. They say they’re going to release you tomorrow. You had some pretty bad injuries, but nothing that won’t heal, especially if we can get you home to Orihime.”

“Knock, knock,” came a familiar voice. Ichigo looked up to see the bucket hat wearing Kisuke Urahara.

“Getabishi,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Ah, well, Kurosaki-san told me about your scuffle, and I thought I’d check in on you,” he said with a grin.

Kisuke walked over and placed a hand on his arm. Ichigo felt his face heat for some reason, but he shook the thought away and looked at him. “It’s a long way when I’ll get out tomorrow.”

Kisuke winked at him. “Well, I had to see my best Vizard.”

Again, Ichigo felt some kind of strange rush at being praised by him. Perhaps it was just the fact that he’d been his teacher, he wasn’t sure, but that comment was embarrassing to say the least. He put a hand to his head.

“What kind of injuries did you suffer?” Kisuke asked him, still holding onto his arm.

Ichigo looked over to Isshin. “What did they do to me?”

“They said you had a concussion, two broken ribs, bruised liver and kidneys, and a dislocated wrist,” Isshin said.

Ichigo looked down at his bandaged right wrist. “Ah, I see. I don’t hurt anywhere, why’s that?”

Isshin smiled. “They’ve got you on pain killers right now, son. They’ll wean you off by morning. For now, why don’t you get some rest?”

Ichigo sighed and nodded, though he still felt Kisuke’s hand on him. He didn’t really want Kisuke to leave, though. As strange as it was, he really liked having Kisuke around. It made him feel protected, in a way, and that was a strange sensation for Ichigo. He was normally the one protecting others, so to have such feelings for a much older man, a teacher, even, was strange.

Kisuke stepped back. “Alright, I’ll see you both back in Karakura Town tomorrow, then?” he said.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking him home at least for the weekend,” his father said with a nod.

“See you later, Getabishi,” he said with a smile.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Ichigo spent the next couple weeks in Karakura Town, arranging with his professors to do his work online. Once he told them what happened, they were willing to work with him for a little while. Plus, midterms had already happened, so he just had to keep caught up on works for the finals in the next few weeks. Orihime had healed his injuries the day he got back sitting at Kisuke’s place. He’d thanked her, and she blushed and fretted on him. He ignored her in favor of listening to Kisuke’s latest work. After that was done, he spent most his time at home with his sisters who were in high school. It was honestly nice to see everyone for a bit, as he’d been so wrapped up in school lately.

He visited Uryū and Chad, and he found that Chad was teaching boxing at a local ring. He knew he was getting into the professional circuit these days, so he promised to cheer him on even if he was in Tokyo. Everyone wanted to know what happened to him, and he just told them he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got jumped by some gang members. He didn’t go into details, but honestly, he had no details to give.

After about three weeks, he decided it was safe to return to Tokyo and to school. So, he boarded the train headed back to Tokyo. He dozed off part way, so he wasn’t sure where exactly he was when he woke when someone painfully pressed something into his ribs. He blinked and looked next to him to see a man with spiked black hair and beady eyes. Ichigo looked down and realized the painful thing in his ribs was the barrel of a gun.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” said the man beside him.

“Who are you?” Ichigo asked.

“Who I am doesn’t really matter. Who you are does. You see, you can’t be allowed to live with the knowledge knocking around in your head of what you saw, so you’re coming back with me to see my boss. He’ll probably want to kill you, but we’ll see. Sometimes he wants to play with his victims some, so we will find out when we get there.”

Ichigo looked around and realized that other than him, the only people in the train car were the guy beside him and three more men standing at the doors. He swallowed, remembering the police and how they’d reacted. Or rather, how they didn’t react. The rest of the ride, Ichigo sat thinking about his life, and thinking that death wouldn’t be the end, so he was somewhat at peace with it. If this was how he died, he would at least die for a reason. He tried to help someone, and that led to his end. Surprisingly, he was calm.

The train stopped, and he was ushered out, gun hidden underneath the other man’s jacket. He took him to a waiting car and pushed him into the back seat and got in too. Ichigo was silent, though, still thinking about passing on and what it would be like to be in Soul Society again. They arrived at what looked like a warehouse of some sort, and he was forced out of the car and into the door. He was led up the elevator with the four men, and into a lavish looking office. If they were going to kill him, they wouldn’t do it here, he thought.

“So, this is our witness?” the man behind the desk said, getting up and walking around.

“Ichigo Kurosaki. He has family in Karakura Town. A father who runs a clinic and two sisters in secondary school.” The man with the gun shoved him forward.

“Ichigo, huh? What a cute name. Tell me, do you bleach your hair?” he asked, looking him over.

“What?” Ichigo frowned. “No. I don’t. It’s that color already,” he hated that question, even when he was literally under a gun.

“Hmm,” he said. “I was just going to have my boys shoot you, but I think I have a better idea,” he said, turning and going back behind the desk.

Ichigo’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? You’re just going to kill me for what I saw!”

“Oh, no, see I have use for you. See, there’s a man in New York by the name of Ernesto Russo. He has an unhealthy fetish for Asians. Unfortunately, we need something from him. And you’re going to be what we trade.” He smiled and crossed his legs looking at him.

Ichigo stared at him. “Wait, no, you can’t do this!” They weren’t going to kill him? They had to kill him so he could go back to Soul Society again!

“Tie him up and have him shipped on the next cargo ship,” the man behind the desk said.

Ichigo shook off the one who tried to grab him. He wasn’t going to go be some commodity for trading to some American bastard. He tried to get to the man behind the desk, but he felt something crack the back of his skull. The world blanked.

Some time later, he woke with a splitting headache. He tried to move but he was tied at the wrist and ankle. He turned his head and found he was in some sort of cargo container. The world was rocking, so he had to be on a ship. He swallowed hard and put his head on the metal floor. They seriously were shipping him like some thing to this man in America. Was anyone from home going to find him? He had no idea, but he hoped they didn’t come for him, because it would put them in danger.

The trip was long. At first, he began to wonder if they were just going to let him starve or dehydrate, because it was at least a day before the door opened on the cargo ship. There were men, at least three, and they dragged him out of the cargo container to a cell where they locked him up. He at least had access to a toilet and food, as meager as it was. They kept him in barely enough food and water to survive, but it would be almost four weeks before they pulled into the port at California. He only knew where they were after he overheard the men talking about where they were at. He didn’t hear where in California. It wasn’t like he would have benefited from knowing it.

“Time to go,” one of the men said, coming and opening the cell. He had three other men with him, too.

He would have tried to escape, but the man had a taser on him. He gestured for him to come out. “Gimme yer hands,” he said.

He held out his hands and one of the other men wrapped rope around them tightly. He was worried about his circulation, too, because his fingers were going numb. He walked in front of the men with his head down while one of him led him by a rope. He winced as he came out into the lights. It was night, but the lights on the deck of the ship were bright. He was yanked forward and to a set of stairs leading off the ship. No one said anything to him as he walked past dock workers and other people along the way. In fact, no one even looked at him. He was loaded into the back of a black car.  

Another hour later, they pulled to a stop, and he was ushered from the car across a tarmac to a waiting jet. It looked like some sort of private jet, so obviously this guy was loaded. That didn’t make it anymore acceptable to take a person and use them like a thing. He was yanked roughly to get moving toward the stairs leading into the plane. He sighed, seeing no opportunities to get away, not with the four men surrounding him, and the one with a taser. And he had no idea how many carried guns in America.

He was taken and shoved into one of the seats and the rope was tied to a bar on the seat in front of him. The men sat around him, and he noticed the people on this jet were staring at him now and then. They didn’t say anything, though, so obviously they worked for this man he was being taken to. The flight wasn’t very long, maybe a little over five hours, and they were landing again. He was starting to get nervous because he had no idea what was to be expected from him. He had a thought, but he was also hoping that this guy would just kill him instead of torturing him or whatever. He hoped the Yakuza guy hadn’t been serious when he referred to this guy as having a fetish for Asians. That didn’t bode well for him.

One of the men got up and untied the rope from the seat in front of him and yanked him to his feet again. He was led back down the stairs, and they stopped at the bottom. The men all stood waiting as a luxurious car pulled up in front of them. The back door opened, and a tall, rugged looking man got out. He was probably six foot six and was broad in the shoulder. He closed the door and walked toward them. He had brown hair cut short, and from what Ichigo could see in the dim light that he was wearing a fancy suit and a tie. He was imposing, to say the least.

“Is this my prize?” he said as he approached.

“Russo-san, may I present Ichigo Kurosaki,” the one holding the rope said in heavily accented English.

“Are you sure he’s Asian?” Russo asked, frowning as he stepped forward. He reached out and grabbed Ichigo’s hair.

“I assure you, Russo-san. His parents are both Japanese. His hair color is natural,” the one speaking continued.

“Hmm, his eyes are right,” he said, twisting Ichigo’s head.

“Fuck off,” Ichigo managed in English. He was a bit rusty, but he had learned English in school. He’d picked up the curse words from an English-speaking exchange student.

The man in front of him smiled. “Good, he’s got spirit. I’ll enjoy breaking him. Put him in the car.”

The men from the Yakuza didn’t move yet. “You promised to exchange this one for the agreement with us,” he said.

“Oh, yes, I suppose you expect I’ll sign for it, don’t you?” Russo said, smirking and reaching a hand out.

The Yakuza man handed him a manila folder. Russo opened it and pulled a pen from his pocket, scratching out a signature on several places. “He better be worth what you’re getting.”

“You asked for a strong-willed Asian boy. He is older than you wanted, but this is what we were able to get for you to fit your tastes,” the Yakuza took the folder back and then one of the others led Ichigo to the car, where he shoved him into the back seat. The door shut and Ichigo felt his heart beat harder in his chest.

The other door opened, and Russo got in, sitting beside him. “Take us home, Carlos,” he said to the driver. He then turned to Ichigo. “We’ll have quite the initiation when we get home.”

Ichigo swallowed, looking at him. His look didn’t waver though, and Russo seemed to only smile broader, then he reached out and slid a hand up his thigh. Ichigo jerked and decided there went the idea that this was just going to be torture and death.

“Sensitive?” Russo asked, sliding his hand up and cupping Ichigo’s crotch. He squeezed his legs together a little tighter.

“Are you gay already or are you a straight boy?” he said, squeezing him through his jeans.

Ichigo swallowed and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he managed, really not wanting to make this guy angry with his hands on his balls.

He pulled back, then, smiling. “I’m very straight, you know. I only like women, with the rare exception of young, lithe, Asian boys like you. Maybe it’s the fact you’re all small dicked, or you have little to no body hair, I just love to take one like you and make you scream in pain. I just can’t do that to a woman, you know. I have never, and would never, be violent with a woman. After all, men protect women, don’t they?” he asked, looking at him.

Ichigo stared at him, wondering what was wrong with this guy. “Why?”

He chuckled. “Because I can, isn’t that enough?”

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Ichigo was in trouble because he knew he couldn’t get away easily once he was taken into the huge mansion this guy lived in. There were guards everywhere, and he knew that there would be no getting out of this place once he was in it. But there was no opportunity to escape yet. He had to hold on until one presented itself. The driver, Carlos, had led him into the house, and was still holding the rope attached to his wrists.

“Take him to my room, Carlos. And tie him to the head. Leave him there, and I’ll attend him shortly,” Russo said and went into the house.

Carlos pulled him and took him up the stairs to a room on the second floor. He looked around, mapping the place in his head on the chance he got away somehow. Carlos just yanked him along and into the room. Ichigo’s eyes went wide at the sight of the opulent bed chamber. The bed, though, was different. The head and foot rails were metal with loops of metal built into them. He realized that this bed was made to confine people to it. So, he wasn’t the first person to have this happen to them here. He swallowed and started to panic a little as Carlos attached the rope to the headboard of the bed.

“Hey, you can let me go,” Ichigo tried. “I’ll find a way out, please!”

Carlos looked at him and shook his head. “No,” he said and left.

Ichigo sat down on the plush bed and sighed. At least he’d tried. He tried then to get his hands free, but he found he couldn’t. No matter what, this was going to happen to him. He just had to try to hold on until he could get out of this place. At some point, this guy would let his guard down. And when he did, Ichigo would get away from him somehow.

He didn’t have long to wait. After about half an hour, Russo came in, holding a pair of wine glasses and wearing a navy robe. Ichigo swallowed hard, feeling fear despite his resolution to do what was necessary to get to the point he could escape from this guy.

“Here, Ichigo, this will help,” he said and held the wine glass to his lips. Ichigo frowned and shook his head. “Either drink, or I’ll bring a syringe in and inject you with something even stronger.”

Ichigo opened and gulped as he poured what tasted like red wine into his mouth, though there was definitely something off about the taste. Ichigo drank it all, much to his chagrin. He looked at him and then he drank his own glass of wine, setting the glass on the table beside Ichigo’s empty one. He came forward and tipped his face up to look at him.

“So, you’ve never had sex before, have you?” he asked.

Ichigo swallowed and shook his head slightly. He hadn’t even thought of doing something like this before, let alone with someone like this.

“Make no mistake, you are nothing but my sexual plaything from here on out. You are nothing but a cock warmer for me to use how I desire, and whether it be your mouth or ass, you’ll be used repeatedly. In fact, I may let my men have a turn if you decide not to behave, so it is in your best interest to obey me at all times.” He opened the drawer beside the bed and fished around, pulling out something Ichigo had only ever seen in pornography. It was a butt plug. “We’ll use lots of fun toys, too,” he said.

Ichigo shook his head. “Look, please, don’t do this. I just want to go home.”

“Aww, cute, begging already, and I’ve yet to fuck you even,” Russo said, untying the belt of the robe and taking it off.

He was built. He had cut and defined muscles, so it was obvious he worked out quite a bit. His cock was already engorged, and Ichigo stared at him because he was bigger than he thought he’d be. He shook his head, thinking about what he planned to do.

“Look, don’t, I don’t want to do this,” Ichigo said, putting his hands up. But he was starting to feel funny and he realized the drink had been drugged.

He shook his head and the next thing he knew he’d been gagged with a ball gag. He was on his back, and he’d removed his jeans and underwear already. He was between his legs, fingering him with something on his fingers that smelled of strawberries. He trembled under his rough touches and yelled as much as he could behind the gag. It was already making his mouth sore and he tried kicking him. It was weak, though, and then he was flipped to his stomach, with him probing at his entrance with his cock. He bit down on the gag hard as he shoved himself inside suddenly. Tears squeezed from his eyes and he panted through the pain that was ripping through him. This guy was seriously going to split him in two, he thought.

“You can tell you’re a virgin,” Russo said, thrusting back and forth. “You’re bleeding a bit, but that’s alright. You won’t bleed for long once you’re used to my cock filling you like this. Your body will know the shape of me, and for the rest of your measly life, no one else will ever fuck you without you remembering this, because let’s face it, you’re going to be a bottom bitch from now on.”

Ichigo could barely breath and then he was done, coming into him and leaving him wet and leaking on the bed. He pulled away and then pushed something into him. He choked a little because he realized he’d put the plug into him. It was wide enough at the base that he felt it keenly.

“Ah, that’s nice,” Russo said. “You’ll hold my essence inside you like this and lay here tonight. Meanwhile, I have my wife to bed yet tonight, so I’ll leave you to your own thoughts.”

Ichigo watched him leave, gagged and plugged and didn’t know what he was going to do. What could he do?

Chapter Text

Ichigo spent the night like that, unable to get comfortable with the plug inside him. He felt disgusting, to be honest, and he would have given anything to be able to shower. More than that, he had to figure out how to get out of this situation. He was lucky. At least he spoke English. If he hadn’t, this would be far scarier than it already was.

The lights were off, and he couldn’t seem to sleep for the longest time. After all the time on the ship, when the only thing to do was sleep, he wasn’t tired in the least. His thoughts were racing, too. He couldn’t seem to shut them off no matter how hard he tried.

He tried to figure out what he could have done different. No matter what he tried, he could only put the blame on himself. If he hadn’t gone out to the bar that night, if he hadn’t had a few drinks, he wouldn’t be in this position now. If he hadn’t had to try and help someone… No, he couldn’t think that way. He’d always come to someone’s aid that needed it. He couldn’t ignore someone’s plea for help like that. It just wasn’t in him. Even when doing so put him in this situation.

He could only hope that the rest of his family was safe since he’d been picked up by the Yakuza. They had him, so they shouldn’t need to harm his family. But now he was mixed up not only with the Yakuza, but this mafia organization that Russo was a part of. Even if he did escape, could he even go home? He’d just put them in danger if he did.

Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep. He woke sometime after sunrise, as far as he could tell from the dim light in the room. The curtains on the windows were thick, though, and blocked out most the light. He knew it had to be morning because his stomach, as used to being empty as it was, was starting to ache a bit. His mouth was also dry, so he knew it had been a while since he’d last had something to drink. He put his head down on the pillows and waited, willing the bastard to come back and take the gag off of him, and pull the damn plug out of him. It was starting to get more uncomfortable the longer it stayed in him.

It was a little while later when he heard the door open. He picked his head up and saw it was Russo. He was dressed in another suit like he had been when he met him, and he looked very self-satisfied.

“There’s my good bitch boy. How was your night?” he asked, coming over and sitting close to him on the bed.

Ichigo yelled through the gag at him, but it was muffled. He frowned and did his best to glare at him. He wasn’t sure how effective it was considering the position he was in.

“Aw, not happy? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to this. Or I’ll kill you. Don’t doubt that, by the way, boy. I will not hesitate to murder you and have your body disposed of by my men. And then, well, then, I’ll go after your family after you’re gone.” He smiled at Ichigo’s pained expression. “Yes, I got all the information about you from the Jap bastards that brought you to me.”

He reached out and grabbed Ichigo by the hair, twisting his head to the side a bit. “See, I do this because I abhor anyone that’s not white. I said I wouldn’t hurt a woman, I know, but I’m also willing to give a chance to a white man. You? You yellow pricks don’t deserve my time. But the men who gave you to me made me a good deal, so I took you in exchange for some useless international corporation they wanted.”

Ichigo frowned. This guy had given the Yakuza a company in exchange for his life. He was just amazed that these things happened in this day an age. He couldn’t imagine the people living in this house who knew he existed already, and they just ignored the fact this guy was keeping some foreign-born human being captive. He even had a wife who knew what he was doing. He wondered if he had any kids and if they knew.

“Now, let’s see, I’ll leave you alone for the day, but you’ll be locked in this room, so don’t think you can get out,” he said, reaching out and releasing his hands from the bed.

He untied his wrists with extremely deft fingers. Ichigo watched him and then didn’t move once he’d finished untying his hands. He wasn’t sure what he could do.

“I’ll send in food. There’s a bathroom over there. I expect you to keep yourself clean. There are robes in the cabinet for you.”

With that, he turned and Ichigo heard the door lock behind him. His hands went for the back of his head to release the gag first, and he opened his mouth and stretched as much as he could, but it was sore. His teeth ached from biting into the ball so hard. He then reached down and removed the stupid plug. He felt gross, too, so he rushed in the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as it would go and got in. He found a loofa sponge, and he scrubbed himself from head to toe. He cleaned himself as well as he could, noticing how sore he was from him and the ridiculous plug he’d made him wear. When he was done, he toweled off and found the robes in the cabinet. He slipped into one and then went back in the bedroom.

He sat down on the bed, wincing a bit as pain shot through his ass. He definitely didn’t like that part of this whole situation, but he didn’t know what to do about. He’d made it clear what he intended to use him for.

The keys jangled outside the door as it was unlocked, and a woman came in. She was shorter and had long, brown hair down past her shoulders. She wore a pair of tan slacks and a magenta-colored button-up shirt. She was carrying a tray with her. She sat it down on the table beside the bed and looked at Ichigo. Ichigo’s eyes went to the door which she had left open. He swallowed, debating trying to run past her. He had to try.

He was up and dashing past her in a second before she could even say anything to him. He got through the door, and he almost thought it was too easy. Then someone was grabbing him by the arm, and he was smashing into the wall. He sucked in a breath and set his feet to try and throw whoever had a hold on him, which he managed after a second, sending whoever it was off him, and he dropped to a crouch just in time to miss being hit right in the face by a flying fist. There were two of them, he realized. He kicked out, trying to sweep the guy’s legs from under him, but found the first guy was back and trying to grab him again. He managed to avoid him, and shot between the two of them, trying to remember the layout of the place as he did so.

He thought he had slipped them, then someone clotheslined him as he tried to go for the stairs, knocking him to the ground. He started coughing and looked up to see Russo standing there with a grin on his face.

“Knew you’d try it,” he said, reaching down and hauling him back to his feet. “I warned Dahlia that you would go for the door the moment it opened.”

Ichigo cleared his throat and looked to see the woman, Dahlia he guessed, standing in the doorway watching them. “Who’s she?” he asked.

“Dahlia is my wife. Now, you’re gonna learn why you don’t run from me. Handcuff him,” he said to one of the two guys that had been standing outside the door.

He tried to push away but he was soon handcuffed and being dragged down the stairs. He had no idea where they were taking him, but they came down to the first floor, then descended a second set of stairs. They came out into a dark basement. Russo turned on the light, and Ichigo looked around. There were a pair of chains hanging from the rafters, and in short order, he’d been chained up on them, hands high above his head.

Russo came around and grinned. “You don’t run, or you come down here and the boys get some time with you. Now, I tell them, all I care about is that you’re alive when they’re done with you. Otherwise, they can use anything down here, and trust me, there’s a lot of fun things down here for them to play with.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at him. “I’ll never stop running.”

“Oh, you will. Trust me. Take this as a lesson,” Russo said, cupping his face. “You will suffer for every infraction. I will ensure that.”

Ichigo swallowed, looking at these other two men. Russo put a hand on one, this one with short brown hair and hard hazel eyes. “This is Robert.” He then moved over and put a hand on the other, this one with long blond hair in a tail and bright, rather stunning, blue eyes. “And this is Terrence. Get to know them, because they’re going to get to know you. Intimately.”

Ichigo shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I won’t run again.”

“Tsk, tsk. I don’t believe you. Now, have fun, Robert, Terrence.” He turned his back and walked up the stairs. Ichigo felt his heart hammering in his chest as the two men came closer.

Both these guys were built. Ichigo wondered where Russo was finding these guys because why were all these guys so big?

Robert stepped up and pulled the belt on the robe he was wearing, letting it fall open. Ichigo looked at him and shook his head. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Robert said, smiling. “You’re not going to be able to do anything about it. But first, we’re gonna have a little fun.”

He reached over behind Ichigo and came back with a set of brass knuckles. The other guy put his hands on his hips from behind and he could feel him pressing against his ass. These guys were serious. They planned to rape and beat him all because Russo told them to. Ichigo closed his eyes and willed it to be over.

It wasn’t over anytime soon. They both left eventually, leaving him hanging by his wrists, losing feeling in his hands long before. He was dripping blood from his face and nose, and he was sure his nose was broken, and maybe his cheekbone because his face was on fire. His ribs had been pummeled and so had his back. He thought maybe they’d broken a rib, but he couldn’t be sure. He was still breathing okay so they hadn’t punctured his lung. They’d both had a go or two, he couldn’t remember that much, and he felt something running down the back of his legs. If it was blood, or come, he didn’t know for sure, all he knew is he was in pain.

He had no idea how long he waited until eventually, Russo came back down with the two of them. Robert and Terrance. He wasn’t going to forget them anytime soon.

“Aren’t you a pretty mess?” Russo said with a smirk. “Now, take him back up to clean up in the bathroom. Send Jared to fix him when you do,” he said as he turned and went back upstairs.

Terrance pulled down his hands and he collapsed to the floor immediately. “Ugh, get up!” Terrance said, kicking him in the leg hard.

Ichigo managed to get to his feet and stumble after him as he was dragged back up both flights of stairs. Robert came around and took the handcuffs off and shoved him toward the bathroom.

“Clean yourself up,” he snapped and then they both left, locking the door behind them.

Ichigo teetered there for a second, then stumbled again into the shower. Luckily it was a standing shower, so he didn’t have to climb into a tub. He just turned on the water and stood there for the longest time under the spray. It hurt his face and ribs, but he didn’t care. After the water started to go cold, he decided to get out. He dried off with a towel, gingerly pressing it against his face and looking in the mirror. Hi right cheek and nose was already turning purple. He looked at his ribs and saw that they were starting to turn colors too.

He sighed, finding a new robe in the cabinet and going out to the bed. He crawled into the bed and collapsed uncomfortably. There were a few minutes until the door opened again, this time shutting again almost immediately and locking. He looked to see a dark-haired man with glasses that kind of reminded him of Uryū. He had a doctor’s bag with him.

“I’m Jared, the doctor in the house,” he said as he approached the bed. “I’d prefer not to have to call Robert or Terrance in here to help me with you, so I’d ask that you cooperate.”

Ichigo just stared at him and sighed. “Yeah, whatever,” he said and sat up painfully on the side of the bed.

Jared came over and began looking his face over. He tutted and pressed on his cheek, then checked his nose. Ichigo winced and his eyes watered as he set his nose back in place. He then had him take off the robe and show him his ribs. He felt around and seemed satisfied with it and told him to put his robe back on.

“Bruised ribs, broken nose, pretty sure they cracked your cheekbone, but overall, you’re not in that bad a shape after they got done,” he said, sighing.

“Not that bad a shape?” Ichigo said, staring at him.

“Considering what I’ve seen before, no, not that bad.” He sat the bag on the end of the bed and looked in it, coming up with a pill bottle. He shook out one and handed it to Ichigo. “Take that. It’ll let you sleep without so much pain.”

“What is it?” Ichigo asked, staring at it.

“Does it matter? Just take the pill,” Jared said, shutting the bag. “You don’t want to spend the entire day and night in pain, do you?”

Ichigo supposed not, so he swallowed the pill, taking a cup of water from the tray beside the bed to take it with. “Why do you work for him?”

Jared stopped as he was picking up the bag. “Sometimes, people don’t have any choice, much like you.”

He left, knocking on the door to be let out. Ichigo sat there and wondered about that. His stomach grumbled rather loudly, and he realized that the food that Dahlia woman brought with her had been taken away, and by now it was well after lunch, and probably almost dinner. He’d spent an indeterminant amount of time down in the basement and had not eaten for two days almost. He sighed, wondering if she’d bring him any more food today.

He laid down in the bed, slipping under the covers, and hoped the pain pill worked because he was not going to be able to sleep otherwise. He was about half asleep when he heard the door open and close again. He sat up with some effort and saw it was Dahlia again. She sat down a tray of food and went to leave.

“Please, don’t go yet!” Ichigo said. “He said you were Dahlia,” he said.

She turned and nodded. “I am. And you are Ichigo. I know who you are.”

He had to know if she was a willing participant in this or not. “You’re his wife.”

“I am,” she answered. She smiled a little sadly. “And I’m sorry.”

She turned and left, knocking like Jared had so they would let her out. Ichigo wasn’t sure where she stood, though, even at that. He instead uncovered the food to find a rather meager meal of peanut butter and jelly and a glass of milk. He supposed it was better than nothing, though. He finished it and felt his stomach ache a little after being so empty for so long. He sighed, crawling back into bed feeling sluggish. The pain pill was working, he guessed as he drifted off to sleep.

Luckily, Russo didn’t visit that night, and he slept through most of it until the pain pill wore off, leaving him aching so bad he couldn’t stand to sleep anymore. He restlessly tossed as much as his sore ribs would let him. He was thinking about everyone involved here, and he had such a hard time understanding how these people could just live like this.

Early in the morning, the door opened again, and Dahlia brought him breakfast. She sat it down and looked at him. “Did you sleep?”

“Until the pain meds wore off,” Ichigo answered, sitting up painfully.

“Just don’t try to run. There’s nowhere to go,” she said with a strange look on her face.

“Why don’t you leave?” he asked suddenly, not knowing why he would ask such a thing.

She blinked and looked at him. “He needs an heir. I’m to birth his baby, eventually. If I ever conceive.”

“How long have you been with him?” Ichigo asked, frowning at her.

She looked a little uncomfortable but answered anyway. “Five years now.”

“And you haven’t had a baby yet?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. The doctors say I’m fine, but he won’t go be tested so it may be because of Ernesto. We don’t know.”

Ichigo bet it was because of him if they’d been trying for five years already. “So, you just stay with him?”

“My family expects it. I was married to Ernesto as an alliance between families.”

Ichigo started to say something else, but she held up her hand. “I have to go.”

She left and Ichigo ate his breakfast, seeing it was toast and jelly. Not much, but something. He spent the rest of the day in the room, receiving meals from a quiet Dahlia, and later, Jared came in to check on him. He gave him another pain pill, and he fell into bed again.

Things continued for almost a week like that, with his wounds steadily healing, and he hadn’t seen Russo at all. He was a little nervous about that, mostly because it was too good to last, and he found out he was right.

It was after dinner, a meager offering of peanut butter and jelly again, and he was just laying in bed when the door opened and shut again. He looked up to see Russo looming over him with a grin on his face.

“So, did we learn a little lesson?” he asked.

Ichigo swallowed and nodded. Russo was still grinning and reached down and grabbed his hair, dragging him out of the bed. He sat down on the bed and opened his robe that he was wearing. “Suck.”

Ichigo looked at him and nodded, afraid that if he didn’t, he’d end up in the basement again. He did what he wanted, nearly passing out more than once as he forced his cock down his throat, but he managed to get through it. When he was done, he left and Ichigo went and threw up in the bathroom.

Weeks went by, then months. Ichigo lost track of the days. He ended up in the basement twice more. Once for resisting Russo, and once for some reason Ichigo couldn’t remember afterward. He didn’t even think he did anything. Both times he got beaten badly, once with Russo joining in the beating. He took a knife to him that time, making cuts on him, then he did something around his eye that put it out. He didn’t know what happened, whether he punctured his eye, or what he did, but he couldn’t see out of his right anymore, and in the mirror it just looked milky. After that, he decided that there was only one thing left to try.

He had to give up.

He didn’t want to do it, but he couldn’t think of any way to get out other than to earn Russo’s trust. And it would be a process. So, he started “enjoying” their time, and asking to do things for him. He’d initiate, and he found Russo was susceptible to being flattered. Eventually, he even started treating him more like a lover and less like a slave. It took a painfully long time, but eventually, he started leaving the door open and letting Ichigo roam the house. There were guards stationed at the exits, so he didn’t try to get outside, but he came to know a few of the other servants, and he realized they didn’t know he was against there against his will.

That was how he got the knife from the kitchen and hid it in the bedroom. He’d decided there was only one way to get away, and that was to kill Russo and run. So, when it came the night when Russo visited him, he fell asleep in the bed. Ichigo quietly got the knife out and held it over Russo’s throat. He hesitated, trying to figure out any way he could do this without killing him, but he couldn’t. This was it. He had the keys to the doors leading outside, and he could sneak past the men guarding it. At least, he hoped he could.

Russo, though, woke up, eyes hardening. “What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing Ichigo by the wrists.

Ichigo gasped, holding tightly to the knife and struggling against him. Russo fought back, and shoved Ichigo to his back, pressing the knife back against him, and Ichigo wondered if this was it. Either he was going to kill Russo, or Russo was going to kill him. Either way, this was going to end right then.

He didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to get a burst of strength and embedded the knife in his chest. Russo looked shocked at it as he tried to speak, but nothing came out. The strike had been true. He died quickly, and Ichigo crawled out from under him, blood covering him from where it had rained down from his chest.

He went in the bathroom and got a fresh robe and then came out to find Dahlia standing at the bed, staring at the body. Ichigo looked at her and she turned to him.

“You did it,” she whispered. “You have to go. You have to hide,” she said. “Come with me,” she said and led him out of the room down to the basement.

Ichigo resisted going down there at first, but she convinced him it was the only way. They passed the chains and came to a door leading to the outside. She unlocked it with a key on her keyring and looked at him.

“I’m sorry, I hope you find your way home,” she said softly.

“Thank you, but I don’t think home is a place I can ever go again,” he said and took off out the cellar door.

Chapter Text

Ichigo ran from that place. He had no way of knowing, but it had been over two years since he was stuffed in a shipping container and sent overseas. Of course, because things can never be easy, as he was climbing the fence to get out, someone spotted him and demanded he stop. He scrambled, trying to get over the fence as quickly as he could. He heard the shot, but he had no way to move out of the way as it ripped through his back, propelling him over the top of the fence. He tried to hold on, but his hands slipped and had no grip and he fell the rest of the way. He groaned and managed to get to his feet, running again despite the pain in his back and shoulder.

Somehow, he managed to get away without being shot again. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was in a city, and he found an alleyway where he went down and crouched by some garbage cans. He couldn’t get a good breath and he had no idea what to do. He couldn’t go to the hospital. He had no ID and he was in the US illegally to start with.

“Hey, you okay?” he heard.

He looked up to see a guy who looked homeless staring at him. He must have looked a sight, bloody and dressed in a pair of pajama pants he’d grabbed. He was barefoot and ached everywhere from falling down the back of the fence.

“No,” he said truthfully.

“You need a doctor?” the man asked. He was dressed in a light shirt and a pair of ragged jeans. He was carrying a backpack and looked to be around thirty or forty years old with scraggly, unkempt facial hair.

Ichigo looked at him. “I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Most of us can’t. Come on, I can take you to someone,” he said and reached a hand out for him.

Ichigo didn’t know what to do, but he hurt, and his breathing was not right, so he worried he’d done something to his lung. “Alright, I’ll go,” he said and let the guy pull him up.

“Name’s Paul,” he said as he helped him to his feet.

“Ichigo,” he said stumbling against him.

“This guy’s good. Used to be a doctor but got in trouble, so now he works for us here on the streets. He’ll take care of you,” Paul said and led him through the maze of alleyways until they came to a door.

He knocked on the door and it was answered by a tall, darker skinned man. He looked them over. “What’s this, Paul?”

“Ray, found this guy. Needs your help,” Paul said.

Ray, apparently, looked at him for a moment. “Bring him in,” he said and stepped out of the way.

Ichigo lost track of time then. Ray had him sit down on a chair at a kitchen table, then he went to work on his back and shoulder. The pain was incredible. He said something about digging the bullet out, and Ichigo realized it could hurt even more than it had. He didn’t yell out, something that Ray praised him for, as he bandaged up his back and shoulder.

“You were lucky. That bullet coulda hit something major if it had been a little to the side,” Ray said as he sat down across from him. “Gonna tell me your story? Maybe I can help.”

Ichigo looked at him. “I don’t think anyone can,” he said.

“Try me.”

Paul had long ago left, and they were the only ones in the small place. “I’m Japanese. I got into some trouble with the Yakuza, I saw a murder I shouldn’t have. I got shipped overseas to this Mafia man. I spent a long time with him, and eventually I earned his trust enough that I could kill him and get away.”

Ray sighed. “Sounds like you’ve had it rough. I can direct you to a couple people that can get you home, though,” he said.

“I can’t go home. The Yakuza will go after my family if I do. And I can’t stay here, since I killed the guy,” he said with a sigh.

“Who’d you kill?” Ray asked, frowning.

“Ernesto Russo,” he said quietly.

“You what?” Ray asked, looking shocked. “You killed Russo?”

Ichigo nodded. “He held me for a couple years at least. That’s how I lost use of my eye, what him and his men did to me,” he said as he looked down at his hands.

“What did he hold you for?” Ray asked.

Ichigo felt his face heat. “Just reasons.”

“Reasons? That’s not an answer,” Ray said with a look on his face that said he wasn’t going to take that answer.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Ichigo said, getting mad now. “It doesn’t matter anyway, what’s done is done.”

“Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I can’t make you. Though it would help me with your care if I knew what happened.” He looked him over with a critical eye for a moment. “But that’s up to you.”

“Look, I got beat a lot, and I think I’ve had things broken that never healed right. I’ve been in pretty constant pain for a while now, and I think there’s some damage to my wrists from where they’d hang me by them. I don’t know. I just know I have to get somewhere where they can’t find me again.” Ichigo sighed.

“What are you willing to do to get by?” Ray asked, looking rather serious.

Ichigo looked at him with an equally serious look. “Anything.”

“Look, I know some people. They can get you out of New York. They expect something in return, though, and I don’t know what you’ll do to pay them off.”

“I can work,” Ichigo said. “I can do manual labor. Things like that.”

“It may not be enough, especially since your illegally here,” Ray turned and grabbed a notebook from behind him. “But I’ll contact them.”

He had Ichigo go sit in the living room, where he wondered what was going to become of him. He was alone and in the United States. He was sure there were worse places, but he had to get by without immigration finding him, and he knew that. He waited until Ray came in a few minutes later.

“She’s on her way over,” he said with a nod. “I can’t say what you’ll end up doing, but it won’t be easy. Getting paid under the table is hard to do in this day and age, so I’m not sure.”

Ichigo nodded and waited. About an hour later, there was a knock on the door, and Ray got up from his chair to go answer it. He came back with a dark-haired woman in jeans and a rock band t-shirt with a pair of heavy boots and heavier makeup.

“Ichigo, this is Raven.”

Ichigo stood up and gave her a slight bow. She looked at him and Ray shrugged. “He’s Japanese, they don’t shake hands.”

Ichigo looked at him and realized that he was right. He stepped forward instead and reached out. She smirked a little and shook his hand.

“I hear you need to stay under the radar,” she said, her voice rather raspy sounding.

“Yeah. I need to get out of New York to somewhere safe, somewhere where I can make it on my own,” he said with a nod.

“Well, you speak English pretty well. You actually do pretty well for someone who was raised elsewhere. I take it you took English in school,” she said, crossing her arms over her small bust.

“Yeah, since I was a kid. My dad thought it would be useful.”

“You’re lucky. Some people in your position don’t even speak English at all, and that’s tough to do anything about,” she explained. “I think I know where to send you. I know a guy looking for unloaders in St. Louis. It would pay enough to cover the cost of getting you there after a while. May have to squat in a dive or something to live, though, don’t know how much you’ll get to keep.”

“Whatever it takes,” Ichigo said. “I’ll do it.”

It took almost a week, but before long, transport had been arranged. He took a bus under a fake ID they made for him. He knew everything they did was going to cost him in the end, but he had little choice but to do this to get away. He couldn’t stay in Russo’s area, especially after he found out that there had been some fallout after he was found dead. Apparently, a rival was accused of the hit, and it was looking like an all-out war was on the horizon. Ichigo didn’t want it to come to light that he caused his death, but he had to wonder, out of everyone who knew he was in that house, why didn’t anyone tell the truth? Did they just not want it known that he kept captives and one of them broke free and killed him?

As he sat on the bus, he had plenty of time to think it over. Nothing good ever came to mind, and he just hoped that St. Louis was far enough from New York that he wouldn’t be found. Right now, his biggest worry was living on forged papers and trying to go without being found. So far, he had a forged birth certificate that gave his birthplace as someone in Montana, a Missouri state ID, and a social security card. He’d been told that if anyone looked too deep, they’d find out they were fake, so he had to hope no one ever went into his past. It would be enough to keep him from getting in trouble, he hoped.

He arrived at St. Louis and was met by a young man who waved him down.

“Hey! You’re Dave, right?” he asked.

“Dave? Oh, yeah, Dave Brown. That’s me,” Ichigo said, almost forgetting the name that was on his forged papers. That was going to take some getting used to.

“I’m Victor Muenz. I’m going to take you to the docks where you’ll be working,” he said.

Ichigo nodded and adjusted the backpack he was carrying. He followed him to a plain looking four-door car and got in the passenger side. He was quiet as this Victor took him to the docks. Ichigo had never seen a river like this before, and he had to admit it was massive. He’d never worked loading and unloading ships, but he supposed any work would be good. He looked over at Victor.

“Do you know where I can stay?” he asked.

“Ah, no, but I can direct you to a couple hostels. You’ll need some money first, unless you can convince them to wait until your first payday. Of course, you’ll only get what’s left over after my people take their fees,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. I’m in debt for a long while,” he said and looked out the window again.

They got to the docks, and he was introduced to the people he would be working for. They took him without questioning anything, and he guessed these people didn’t do much more than looking at his ID without actually running the information.

He spent three months on the job. It was hard work, and he was constantly sore and tired. He worked as many hours as he could, sleeping when he was done. He managed to convince a hostel owner to let him stay until his first check, so he had a bed to sleep in. When he got that first check, it was barely enough to cover food and the room he was in, but it was something.

It was during that time that the dreams started. He didn’t know why, but they would leave him feeling wrung out like he hadn’t slept at all. It was always his inner world, the sideways skyscrapers, and the hollow and old man were there. They would speak, but Ichigo couldn’t hear them no matter what he tried to do. It was just outside his hearing, and it was frustrating to no end.

Of course, he also had the nightmares where he was back with Russo. Those, he would wake up sweating and panting in the middle of the night, almost waking the people in the room with him. He’d sometimes get up and vomit as the memories and events flooded his mind. No one ever asked him about those nights, but then, he came to find out a lot of the people there were on the run from something, even if it was just their old lives.

He'd gotten used to the routine, almost happy in it, really, when the accident happened. He was loading a crate, and there was a spot of water on the dock. He slipped, catching his leg in the strap. Before he knew it, it had felt like someone was ripping his leg completely off. They managed to lower the crate down and release him, but his hip had been dislocated. They wanted to call an ambulance, but Ichigo wasn’t sure if that was going to be okay or not. He didn’t have much of a choice though, he just had to hope that they didn’t investigate his ID too far.

At the hospital emergency room, they reset his leg, which hurt almost as much as having it pulled out. They took his information down, wrote down the fake social security number, and put it in their system. He knew he had to leave quickly, so when he was left alone, he got up and limped his way out of the hospital. He managed to get out, and though he was in excruciating amounts of pain, he had to keep moving.

“Where have you been?” Angela, the hostel owner, asked as he came back.

“Ah, accident at work. I’m okay though,” he said with a shrug. “I’m going to sleep, I think,” he said, limping to the bedroom and falling into the bed.

He couldn’t sleep for the pain though. And the next morning came too soon. He didn’t know what to do. There was no way he could work like this. He could hardly walk, let alone lift anything. He cursed his luck because things had been good. He fisted frustrated tears out of his eyes and sighed. He was still in bed near noon when Angela came in to check on him.

“Honey, don’t you have work?” she asked, standing beside the cot.

He turned to her, and she saw his face. “I can’t work like this. The accident yesterday dislocated my hip, and now I can barely move it. I don’t know what to do.”

She patted his shoulder. “Aw, well, maybe we can find something for you. Ever thought of fast food?”

Ichigo looked at her and shook his head. “I can’t work just anywhere. I’m illegal.”

She looked at him a second. “I’m guessing Dave isn’t your real name.”

Ichigo shook his head. “It’s Ichigo. I’m from Japan.”

“Well, that makes it difficult, but I’m sure we can figure out something,” she said.

“I have to call the people who brought me here. I owe them money for the transportation, and I’m not done paying them off, so I have to have money, and quickly,” he said.

He sat up painfully and dug out the cell phone they’d given him. He plugged it in to the wall and waited for it to charge up. Eventually, after a few minutes, he turned it on. He hadn’t pulled it out since he started the job and hoped he wouldn’t need it. He dialed Victor’s number. He answered and Ichigo explained what had happened to him. Victor was silent for a time, then told him he’d have to make money somehow. He knew a girl that might be able to help, if he was willing to do anything, that was.

The next morning, he limped his way to an alley nearby, where he found Victor and a girl wearing skimpy clothing. She had styled blonde hair, obviously dyed that color judging by her brown eyebrows, and a lot of makeup. Her skirt was short, and so was the midriff exposing shirt she was wearing.

“This him?” she asked.

“Dave, this is Shelby. She’s knowledgeable of the streets, and might be able to help you out,” he told him.

She looked him over. “You’re fit enough. You willing to work on your back or are you too good for that?”

Ichigo’s eyes went wide and he looked at Victor. “You didn’t tell me it was this kind of work.”

“What do you expect? You can’t do manual labor, and you have to pay us, or you’re going to be in more trouble. You agreed when you were brought here. We can easily send you back to where you came from, you know, Ichigo.” He smirked and looked at him. “You’re out of options.”

Ichigo swallowed and looked at Shelby. “Alright. I don’t have a choice.”

“Well, welcome aboard, Dave. What kind of name is that? You need something better to work the streets. Ichigo is your real name, right? What’s that mean?”

“One who protects,” he said, sighing. “But it often gets mistaken for strawberry.”

“Heh, Berry. That works. Come with me, we’ll get you set up on a corner with one of the girls. Don’t have a lot of boys, so you’ll work the same area as some of the girls do,” she said and gestured for him to follow her.

He went back to the hostel after he met with her, but Angela met him at the door with his bag. She handed it to him. “You’re working for Shelby. I can’t have you here. I’m sorry, but I have to keep my place safe.”

Ichigo nodded, understanding that she had to take care of her own. He didn’t blame her, but now he had to find a place to stay for the night. He was lucky because it was still April, so the weather was good. He eventually curled up in an alley and slept for the night. He woke up when he felt someone pull on his bag, and he glared at a homeless man leaning over her.

“Sorry man thought you were dead,” he mumbled and shuffled away.

He got up and wandered around until it was time for his first night at “work.” He didn’t know how this was going to work, but he had to do something and as he limped along, he felt like he was definitely at the lowest point of his life.

It turned out his first night was without clients, which he was kind of glad of. But he knew once word got around, he’d have clients. The girls had decent business, especially since it was illegal in the US to do this, but it seemed to be a bustling business for Shelby. The next night, and the ones after that, turned into good business for Ichigo. He was numb to the sex, and just did whatever was expected of him. He had male and female clients, though the male ones vastly out numbered the females. He always had a pocket full of lubes and condoms, and he kept them stocked no matter what. The last thing he needed was to catch something nasty from someone.

He still hadn’t found a permanent place to stay, so he ended up just staying in hotel rooms when he had the money or when the client paid for it. It wasn’t the best, and sometimes he ended up sleeping in the alley or in a homeless shelter, but no one asked questions, and he managed to get by. After about six months, he’d finally paid back all the money he owed the people that brought him to St. Louis, but he still was stuck. There wasn’t a way out that he could see.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Kisuke Urahara had been searching for almost three years for Ichigo. He’d been missing since the incident with the Yakuza, and from what he could find out through the channels he had access to, he had left the country at some point. Ever since he found that out, he’d been working on devices that sensed low levels of spiritual energy. He knew what he was looking for, he just didn’t know if Ichigo would be releasing any.

So far, he’d found a great many spiritually aware humans that had low levels, and they were an interesting find, but not what he was looking for. He tuned it to the more hollow nature, and found hiding hollows which he dispatched but still no Ichigo.

That is, until today.

He had a reading that was low level and hollow, but not entirely. It had to be him, but it was far away. The easiest way to get there was through Soul Society. He didn’t tell anyone what he was working on, because he didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up that they’d find him. All he knew for sure is that he hadn’t passed over to Soul Society. So, he was alive somewhere. And now he thought he might have found him. He needed to find him, but what he didn’t say out loud was he needed to find him for himself, not the others. There was a deep connection between them, and he missed him greatly.

He left his Gigai behind, deciding instead to investigate first. He stepped out into the World of the Living in a busy American city. He looked around, holding out the small device he had with him, and followed the signal. Eventually, he noted it was coming on evening, and then he saw someone ahead of him, with the strongest signal.

He turned and Kisuke’s breath caught. The hair was longer, pulled back in a messy looking bun, but it was the right color of bright orangey red. He moved closer, seeing he was talking to a man in a car that had pulled up next to him.

“So, you’re firm on those prices?” the man in the car said.

“Get out of here if you’re going to argue,” Ichigo said, waving at him. “I gave you the price, do you want to pay it or not?”

The man in the car, a blond man with beady dark eyes, looked thoughtful. “You go all the way for that, right? No stopping halfway?”

“Look, I gave you a price for the full deal. That’s the deal. Taking it or not?” he said.

Kisuke realized suddenly what kind of transaction was going on here and he gasped, covering his mouth, not believing Ichigo was doing this. He wanted to stop him, but he wasn’t in his Gigai. He watched as to his horror the man handed Ichigo money and he got in the car with him. Kisuke followed in a flash step, keeping up with the car easily, as it pulled into a motel parking lot. Ichigo and the man got out, and the man was shorter than Ichigo by several inches. Ichigo just followed him for a minute to the main door, letting him go into motel without him. He looked thinner, Kisuke thought. He also noted he had a significant limp when he walked, and as he turned to look his direction, he realized there was something wrong with his right eye. It looked milky like it was unusable anymore.

The man came back out and led Ichigo down a few doors and then into one of the rooms. Kisuke could stop this, but he had found him, so that was something. He opened the way back to Soul Society and went to retrieve his Gigai. A few minutes later, he stood outside the hotel, wondering what to do.

He was about to leave when the door opened and Ichigo came out of the room and lit up a cigarette. He leaned back against the building and looked out in Kisuke’s direction. He stepped out of the shadows and came forward, coming up to him.

“Ichigo?” he said.

Ichigo blinked, turning his head and staring. “Getabishi?” he said with a shocked face.

Chapter Text

Ichigo thought he was seeing things. But there was no mistaking that green and white bucket hat and the pair of geta he wore. He looked just the same as he had three years ago when he’d last seen him. Of course, he wouldn’t have changed. He wore a Gigai, and Shinigami didn’t age like humans.

“Ichigo, I’ve been looking for you,” he said in a soft voice as he came closer.

Ichigo dragged off the cigarette, wondering if there was something else in it for a moment. “You can’t be here.”

“I’m here, Ichigo. I never stopped looking,” he said.

“No, look, I’m busy. I’ve got to go back in. I just came out for a smoke,” he said softly, looking back at the motel room door.

“If I get a hotel room, will you come and talk with me?” Kisuke said, looking him over.

“No, look, this guy paid already. I can’t just walk out.”

Kisuke looked pained at that, but he nodded. “Tomorrow?”

“I’ll be doing the same thing, so no, just go back. I don’t need you anymore. I’m fine.”

He sighed. “I can make you come back.”

Ichigo licked his lips. “I know you can, but you won’t, because that’s not you, now get out of here.” He turned his back dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his foot. “I can’t go back,” he said over his shoulder and went back in the room.

“Everything okay?” his client said. “Heard you talking to someone.”

“Yeah, fine, just a guy looking for directions, that’s all.” Ichigo slipped the shirt back off and kicked his shoes off slowly, still reeling from seeing Kisuke.

The rest of the night was a blur. He did what the client wanted and left come morning. He didn’t get to sleep much, but he was used to that most the time. He left, grabbing his bag and walking outside to make sure Kisuke wasn’t there anymore. He swallowed because part of him had wanted him to be there. No, he thought, he couldn’t think like that. That was a life he couldn’t go back to.

He had to find a place to sleep, though, before tonight. He counted his money and decided he had enough for a hotel and lunch, so he went to the cheapest one in the area and got a room for the day. He dropped his stuff and fell into the bed with a deep sigh. Imagine, seeing Kisuke Urahara. Someone he only saw in his dreams now and then. He wondered if it had to do with the fact his ability to see ghosts was coming back. He swallowed. Was it coming back to him after all this time? It had been three years since he got shipped overseas to America, and he’d been twenty when that happened. So, six years or so since he gave up his power.

No, it couldn’t be coming back. That couldn’t be it.

But was it? How else did Kisuke find him? He couldn’t answer that one. He struggled to sleep with the thoughts racing in his mind. No matter what, the dreams of his inner world still haunted him. He still saw the spirits inside his inner world, and he just couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was frustrating and when he dreamed like that, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. So, what if it wasn’t a dream at all?

He flopped over on his stomach, adjusting because his pocket was full of condoms and lube and he hadn’t taken off his jeans. He didn’t know what to do, so he eventually fell asleep. Again, he was visited with dreams of his old life, no doubt triggered by Kisuke showing up. He woke sometime later, just as the sun was going down, and got out of the warm bed. He had to eat something, as he hadn’t eaten really in a couple days. Granted, he didn’t eat a lot as it was.

He went to the bathroom and started the shower, spending a long time in there washing up because no one wanted to spend the night with a dirty whore. He got done and toweled off, finding a t-shirt that wasn’t dirty in his bag and his other pair of jeans. He’d need to wash soon, as it had been too long already. He dug out the deodorant, another splurge he never went without, and applied it. He headed out, walking back to the corner he usually worked. He waved at the girls as he passed them. He sniffed a little, as he was coming down with something as the days started to get colder. His hip ached a lot, so he knew the weather was probably changing soon.

It didn’t take long before someone pulled up and he leaned in the window. “Looking for a night fun?” he asked, overexaggerating his Japanese accent. He’d found that some clients liked the exotic nature of sleeping with a foreign sex worker.

“Ichigo.” He heard a familiar voice and turned around.

“You again?” he said.

Kisuke held out some bills. “For your time.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at him. “Hey, I was here first!” the man in the car protested.

“Yeah, he was here last night,” Ichigo said, dropping the accent he’d put on. “Go on, I’m sure there’s another guy willing to let you fuck them tonight.”

Ichigo reached out and took the money, noting it was the right amount for a full night. “How’d you know how much?”

“I was watching last night before I got my Gigai.”

Ichigo sighed, wondering why he hadn’t seen him. He guessed maybe his spirit sight wasn’t back all the way yet. “Alright, let’s go.”

Ichigo walked him to a motel that was nearby. “You’re buying the room,” he informed him.

Kisuke nodded and walked in to rent a room for the night as Ichigo waited outside, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette. He came out with a card key and Ichigo walked beside him as they took the stairs to the second floor and opened one of the rooms. Ichigo tossed the cigarette over the rail and walked in behind Kisuke. Ichigo dropped his backpack and looked around.

“So, you want to do it with me? You paid for it,” he asked, looking at him.

“I don’t expect that,” Kisuke said as he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to talk to you and I figured this was going to be the only way to get you alone.”

“You’re wasting your money and your time. Nothing is going to change,” Ichigo said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You can come home. Or to Soul Society. Your powers are already returning. That’s how I found you. You’re releasing low level reiatsu. I managed to detect it,” Kisuke said, looking at him.

“After three years, and after what I’ve been through, you expect me to up and go back just like that?” Ichigo said, starting to get annoyed.

“This isn’t a good life,” Kisuke said.

“Why do you say that? It’s good enough. I make enough money to get rooms and sleep during the day, and get enough to eat. What else can I do?” he growled out.

“You can go home. Everyone still misses you,” Kisuke said.

“You have no idea what’s happened to me,” Ichigo said, turning his back on Kisuke and facing the window. “You can’t just expect that to go away.”

“Tell me, then?” Kisuke asked. “All I could find out after you disappeared was the Yakuza sent you out of Japan. I had no idea where and no way to find out, so I focused instead on developing a way to detect you despite being without your powers.”

Ichigo looked over his shoulder. “You want to know what happened to me?”

“Yeah, I do.” Kisuke wasn’t budging it seemed.

“No, you don’t, and I don’t want to tell it,” Ichigo snorted and looked away again.

Kisuke got up and stood behind him. “Ichigo, you’ve been through a lot. I can only imagine what that has been like, but there’s an option. You can get the rest of your powers back. We developed a way to reignite them.”

Ichigo turned around to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Kurotsuchi and I developed a Zanpakutō. It’s imbued with the power of the captains and vice captains of the Gotei 13. We think it will reignite your Shinigami powers completely,” Kisuke said, reaching out and putting his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders. “Then, you can come home.”

“You mean, Soul Society,” Ichigo said, staring at him.

“I do.”

Ichigo looked away again. “As I am now, I’m not worth all that.”

“Don’t be like that, Ichigo. I’m sure you’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” Kisuke told him.

“Look, I murdered someone, alright? I outright killed a man because he… he…” his voice choked and he turned around again, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just killed someone.”

“Ichigo, I’m sure it isn’t as simple as that. It never is.” Kisuke put his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders and squeezed. “I don’t care if you’ve killed someone. I know you. You did it because you had to.”

“I didn’t have to. I could have stayed there and taken it. He wasn’t trying to hurt me when I did it. He’d already done that. It was murder.” His head drooped and Kisuke ran a hand up the back of his neck. It felt good, to be honest.

“Ichigo, whatever he did to you, you didn’t deserve, and I know you only killed him because it was your only option.”

Ichigo didn’t see it that way, though. While it was true, at the moment he killed Russo, he was trying to kill him, he only did that because Ichigo was going to try to kill him in his sleep. He was a murderer, he felt, and there was nothing that Kisuke said that would change that feeling.

“He held me captive,” he said softly, feeling Kisuke’s hands still on his back. “He accepted me in trade for some company with the Yakuza. He hated anyone who wasn’t white, so he took out that hatred on me. He tied me to the bed and raped me the first night I was there. I was so naïve. I didn’t know what was coming. He let me try to escape, then he just had me tied and beaten by these men of his who took their turns too. They used me like I was some thing for them to have, and I couldn’t get away.” He felt Kisuke’s hands flex on him.

“I decided the only way to get out was to gain his trust, so I started doing what he wanted, and eventually I figured out how to manipulate him. He started letting me out of the room. And I got a knife. I was going to kill him in his sleep. But he woke up, and we fought over the knife, but I ended up putting it in his chest. There was a lot of blood, but I got up. His wife let me get out, but I got shot in the process of escaping.” Ichigo paused. “Then I had to get out of New York. He was a mafia guy who was influential. So, I made a deal with some people that brought me here, to St. Louis.”

Ichigo turned back around to see Kisuke was just listening to him. “I started working on the docks to pay them off. It was fine for a while, but then I injured myself, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I owed the people that brought me here, and there was only one way to get that much money quickly. I started doing this, and I paid them off. But now, there’s nothing else for me. I’m illegal. I’m alone. So, you see, just go back and leave me to this life. As fucked up as it is, it’s still mine.”

Kisuke reached out to hug him, and for a minute, Ichigo didn’t know what to do. But he let him after a second, and he wrapped his arms around him. It felt incredibly nice, though, to be hugged like this once again. He swallowed and felt the warmth he offered and sighed, letting it linger for a while until he pushed him back.

“Ichigo, please, you can come to Soul Society.”

Ichigo looked at him. “I don’t deserve to.”

“Do it, for me, please?” he said softly. “I know what you’ve been through, and it’s enough. It’s time you moved on and came home with me.”

“But the Yakuza…” Ichigo said, frowning.

“They’re not worried about you anymore. As far as they know, you were sent to this mafia guy and that was it. No one is looking for you anymore. Not in Japan, anyway.” Kisuke reached out and took him by the hand. “And I have to admit, I want you to come back. For me.”

Ichigo blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, over the last three years, I’ve realized some things about me. And things about what I want in life, and I want you to be present in it. I’ve missed your presence greatly, and I would like to make you a part of the life I’ve made in Karakura Town.” Kisuke pulled his hand up and kissed the back of it. “I will take you as you are now, knowing you’re a different man from the one three years ago.”

Ichigo looked at him, still overwhelmed by what he was saying. “What are you saying?”

“You heard what I’m saying,” Kisuke said. “Come with me, and we’ll try together.”

“Together?” Ichigo asked, frowning. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

“That’s okay. You mean something to me, and I want you to know that,” Kisuke said, looking at him with strangely serious eyes under his hat.

He was so used to the coy shopkeeper act Kisuke usually put on, seeing him this serious was strange. He didn’t know what to think, but the offer was one he would have accepted three years ago in a heartbeat, back when his heart yearned to make those kind of connections. The question was, could he do that again, or was that time gone? He swallowed thickly and wondered what would happen if he agreed to what Kisuke was suggesting. What would his father say? What would Soul Society think?

Then, all of a sudden, Ichigo realized something.

He didn’t care.

“Okay,” he said and nodded.

Kisuke’s serious face was replaced with a familiar smirk, and he reached out, putting his hand behind Ichigo’s head and pulling him forward. He pressed his mouth to Ichigo’s without pause, surprising Ichigo a little with his forwardness. He pressed back, licking at the seam of his mouth and when he opened, delving inside without hesitation. Kisuke kissed back, tongue twisting with Ichigo’s in an intricate dance of breaths. Kisuke pulled back and looked at Ichigo from under the brim of his hat.

“Let’s go home, Ichigo,” he said softly.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

In the expanse of Hueco Mundo, a new Arrancar made his way through the wastes toward a structure in the distance. His utterly blackened human heart had been no great loss when he had become hollow, and the driving force of hatred inside him had driven him to rip his mask off. He was powerful, emitting enough power to eliminate lesser hollows that dared to approach him. The world around him was new, but he didn’t care. He had one desire, one thing that would fill the emptiness inside of him, and that was to have his one desire again.

Eventually, he reached the structure, and found it to be massive. He sensed others like him, and he saw them come toward him. He smiled, yes, this would do. They were drawn to his power. They would serve him in this world as humans had served him in the last.

It didn’t take long for him to set himself up as the one in power. Several others challenged him, but he defeated them easily. Soon, they turned to him for leadership. And thus, his underlings grew. Before long, he had many who were following him, and he wondered how he would accomplish his goals.

He heard stories. Stories of a Shinigami named Aizen. He listened as the Arrancar who had been in Hueco Mundo the last few years gave him these stories of what had happened, and how the one who had brought them low had been an orange headed Shinigami by the name of Ichigo Kurosaki.

Could it be? Was it possible that it was the same person? The description and name matched, and it was seemingly more than possible. It became fact. He would do as he had planned, and bring Ichigo to Hueco Mundo again, and have him under his heel yet again.

Ernesto Russo would have what he desired.

Chapter Text

Ichigo sat on the bed and waited. He didn’t really know what was about to happen, but Kisuke had gone back to Soul Society to retrieve this Zanpakutō that he’d crafted. He didn’t think Ichigo would be able to interact with Soul Society without his powers returned, so Ichigo had agreed. He was nervous, though. The thought of being a Shinigami again was kind of scary, to be honest. He wanted to go back to the way he was before, and this would be a step in that direction. He didn’t think he’d ever be the same, not after the last three years. He sighed, running his hands through his longer hair. He hadn’t cut it in a while, but it worked out for him to let it grow.

He heard a noise and looked up to see the door open and Kisuke came in, followed quickly by Rukia, both of them in Gigai.

“Ichigo!” she said and rushed in the room stopping in front of him.

He looked at her, not moving from the bed and his heart hurt in his chest. “Rukia.”

“Where have you been? What’s happened? What are you doing here of all places?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

He sighed and nodded. “I can imagine,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

She stood and stared at him for a minute, then glanced at Kisuke. Ichigo saw that Kisuke still had that serious expression on his face, and he knew that Rukia would know something was going on because of that. She came forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Ichigo? You aren’t alright.”

He huffed a breath. “No, definitely not.”

“What’s happened?” she asked, frowning at him.

Ichigo tilted his head to the side and looked up at her. He wondered what had changed in the last few years since he’d seen her. Before he disappeared, it had been three years before when he lost his powers. It had been that long since he’d seen her. And honestly, he hadn’t been ready to see her yet.

“A lot. I don’t want to talk about it, though. Kisuke said that he was going to restore my powers, that’s what he went back for,” he told her.

“Yeah, I have the Zanpakutō. They had me keep it for when you were found again,” she said, pulling a glowing blue sword from her waist. “I can give you your power back.”

He smiled a little. “I’m ready.”

She nodded and pierced his chest with the sword. There was a second when nothing happened, then there was a familiar wash of reiatsu. Ichigo was wearing a shihakuso again for a moment before he reverted back to his human form. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“It’s back,” he whispered, a little surprised that it had actually worked. “All of it,” he said softly.

“It worked!” Rukia said with a grin.

“Now, do you want to go back to your family, or to Soul Society?” Kisuke asked, looking at him, still serious.

Ichigo swallowed and thought about it. If the Yakuza were no longer after him, he should really go home. But how could he explain getting there? He supposed the Shinigami could come up with some fake papers or something, but it would be better to leave a literal trail. But he didn’t want to do it like that.

“I’d rather start by going to Soul Society. Then maybe I’ll go home,” he said and looked over at Kisuke.

“Maybe?” Rukia said, looking a little shocked. “Why wouldn’t you go home? Your father and sisters miss you, and so does everyone else!”

Ichigo stared at his hands. “I guess.”

Rukia knelt in front of him and looked up at him. “Ichigo, tell me, what is it?”

Ichigo was starting to get irritated with her already. “Look, you don’t know what I’ve been through, okay?”

She looked a little bothered by that statement. “No, but I would like to.”

He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it now,” he said with a sigh. “Please, just leave the past in the past.”

“Ichigo, you can’t get through this alone,” Kisuke said from near the door where he stood watching. “Let your friends help you.”

Ichigo stood up suddenly, surprising Rukia into nearly falling over. “Look, I don’t want to go over what’s gone on. I just want to go forward now that I can, and—”

There was a loud knocking on the door. “Police! Open up!”

Kisuke, who was standing near the door, frowned and turned around, opening it to find two officers standing there.

“Can I help you?” he asked with a smile.

“Yeah, can we come in?” the first one asked. He had blond hair with shaved sides and clear blue eyes.

“Ah, why would you need to?” Kisuke said.

“There’s a report of a prostitution transaction occurring here,” the second officer said. This one had dark skin with brown eyes and hair that was cropped close to his skull all over.

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Kisuke said.

“Let us in,” the blond said.

Kisuke stepped back and let them in the room. Rukia looked at them, and they moved over to her. “ID?” the dark skinned one asked.

Rukia blinked. “Uh, I left it at home,” she said with a bright smile.

“I think you’ll need to come with us,” the first one said, staring at her.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Ichigo said, moving over and pushing Rukia back. “I’m who you’re looking for.”

“Oh, a boy whore?” the brown-haired one said. “Do you have ID?”

Ichigo tried to ignore the look Rukia was giving him as he dug out his wallet and handed over a card. “Dave Brown?” the blond snorted. “Yeah, that’s fake. You’re not from here, are you?”

Ichigo swallowed. “What do you want? As you can see, nothing’s going on here, so you have no reason to take anyone in.”

“Yeah, we got a report you were propositioning guys on the street,” the blond said, glaring at him.

“That bastard called you?” Ichigo said. “He was just sore I didn’t take his money!”

“Doesn’t matter, he still said you offered to trade sex for cash, so that’s enough to take you in if we want. But obviously, you’re an illegal. Anyone can see that, so you’d get deported if we take you in,” the dark haired one said, smirking. “So, I wonder what you’ll do to avoid that.”

Ichigo’s eyes widened, and he looked between them, then glanced over at Kisuke. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, and don’t look to your john for help. This is between us,” the blond said with a snort. “This ain’t your first time being caught by the cops, now is it?”

Ichigo swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Look, just leave things as they are—"

One of them pulled out handcuffs and held them up. “Easy way or hard way, you’re choice?”

Before they could say anything else, Rukia had stepped up with the Kikanshinki and used it on both of them, sending them both into unconsciousness. She turned to Ichigo and had a confused look on her face.

“We have to go before they wake up,” she said.

Ichigo nodded, looking at the two cops and then at her and Kisuke. “Alright, to Soul Society.”

After a few minutes, they stepped out into Soul Society and Ichigo looked around, taking it in. It had been so long since he’d seen it. He wondered what would happen.

“I think we should go to the fourth, have Unohana check you out and make sure that the power transfer was completely successful,” Kisuke said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ichigo said.

“I think we should,” Rukia said, but Ichigo saw she still had the strange look on her face. He knew she was disgusted with him.

They came to the fourth and Kisuke led Ichigo into Unohana’s office. She looked up as the entered and locked eyes on Ichigo.

“The power infusion worked?” she asked, turning to Kisuke and Rukia.

“It looks that way, but we haven’t separated him from his body yet,” Kisuke said.

“Let’s start there,” she said, opening a drawer and removing a glove.

She came around the desk and walked up, pulling the glove on, then pushing Ichigo’s forehead to separate him from his human body. He stumbled back, shaking his head a bit as his body fell forward, caught by Kisuke who lowered it to the floor. He looked down, seeing his shihakuso was a bit different than before. It was mostly the same, though.

“Urahara-san, and Rukia-chan, why don’t you take his body and leave him with me for a little while,” Unohana said, looking him over. “I want to check a few things.”

Kisuke nodded, getting Rukia’s help to move his body to another room. Unohana went around and sat back down, gesturing for Ichigo to sit across from her.

“Tell me, what’s occurred?” she asked gently.

Ichigo sat down and looked at her. “Uh, just a lot of stuff, really, but it’s okay now. I can go home.”

“Urahara-san said that you’d been through a lot in your time you’ve been missing,” she said. “I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless I know what’s happened.”

Ichigo looked away. “Um, well, I got shipped overseas by the Yakuza. They were going to kill me, which would have been fine, because I would have just come to Soul Society again, but they didn’t. They sent me to America to this mafia man.” He paused and swallowed. “He held me for a while.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Unohana said as she looked at him.

Ichigo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what he did. I killed him and I escaped. I murdered someone, so I don’t deserve to be here.”

“What did he do, Ichigo?” she asked again.

“Just things. Torture and stuff, okay? That’s all. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed,” he said, looking down and away.

“Ichigo. You can say what he did. No one is here but us, and no one but us will know,” she said softly, knowing eyes settling on him.

Ichigo looked up at her and blinked away tears that were stinging his eyes. “It’s bad enough I told Kisuke.”

“He violated you, didn’t he, Ichigo?” she said, eyes unblinking.

“It was what he wanted,” he said without looking at her. “The whole time, that’s what he wanted. And I couldn’t stop it. I was too weak.”

“You weren’t weak, Ichigo,” she told him. “You were captured and confined.”

“But then I murdered him!” he said, looking at her now. “I murdered someone in cold blood.”

“Was it murder, Ichigo? Or self-defense?” She stood up and walked around the desk, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Do not blame yourself for another’s sins.”

Ichigo looked up at her and wondered why she cared so much. Why did she care what he felt? Why did she care what had happened to him?

“Rukia knows what I was doing.” He looked away from her.

“What do you mean, what you were doing?” she asked.

“I didn’t have much choice. Things happened and I couldn’t work anywhere else, so I started sex work. It wasn’t like I cared, anyway, not anymore, so I just did it. And Rukia found out. She’s disgusted by me.”

Unohana’s face softened and she put her other hand on his opposite shoulder. “Ichigo, she’s not disgusted by you. I know that.”

“How could she not be disgusted by me? I’m disgusted by me,” he said, looking up at her.

“Ichigo, I know you did what you had to do to survive. From what I understand, you were running from these criminal organizations. They no doubt would have harmed you if they found you. I’m not an expert on the World of the Living, but even I know you were in a bad situation,” she said, squeezing his shoulders gently.

Ichigo swallowed a lump in his throat. “I just don’t know if I can be normal again.”

Unohana reached down and took his hands. “Ichigo, you’ve changed. And that’s okay. This new you will be the one your friends have to get to know again. They will have to let go of their old perceptions of you. You’ll have to let them get to know you again, and the same for your family.”

“Everyone expects me to go home, and I don’t know how I’m going to do that,” Ichigo sighed and looked up at her. “How do I go back to that life like nothing happened?”

“You don’t go back like nothing happened, Ichigo,” Unohana said with a soft smile on her lips. “You go back like everything happened and make a new start. Tell me, what do you want?”

Ichigo stared for a moment. “I want to be happy again.”

“What will make you happy?” she asked, squeezing his hands.

He looked away from her. “It’s ridiculous.”

She reached out and pulled his face back to look at her again. “What is it?”

“Kisuke.”

“Urahara-san?” she asked, frowning a little.

“See, it’s ridiculous,” he let go of her hand and covered his face.

She pulled his hand away. “No, it’s not. You care for him?”

“I do, but why would he have anything to do with me, knowing everything that happened and what I’ve done?” he said. “And what would everyone else say?”

“Does it matter what anyone else says? This is something between the two of you, not anyone else.” She looked thoughtful. “He has been rather obsessive with the thought of finding you.”

“But that was before he knew the truth,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Ichigo, he’s not going to care about that, if I know him. He’ll do everything he can to make sure you know that.” She smiled and cupped his face, tilting it up to face her again. “Pursue your happiness, Ichigo.”

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Kisuke wondered how long Unohana intended to talk to Ichigo, but as he sat out front with Rukia, he figured she might have questions for him.

“Urahara-san,” Rukia said quietly. “Was he really selling himself?”

Kisuke looked at her sadly. He nodded. “He had no choice in his situation.”

“What should we do?” she asked, looking up at him. “He doesn’t seem to want to go home.”

“I’m going to offer that he can stay with me,” Kisuke said, glancing at her. “I have a feeling going back to his home with his father might be too much right now.”

“What happened to him? What made it so that he had to take to prostitution?” she said, obviously never having imagined her friend being in such a situation.

Kisuke sighed. “It was complicated, but he was illegally in America, so he couldn’t work legally. He had a job but was injured. He owed money to powerful people and had to get it quickly, so he did what he had to do.”

“I guess I understand,” she said softly, staring at her hands.

“He’s going to need his friends, all of them, to be on his side. Things will be hard, especially adjusting to being back home again. He’ll have to get used to those things that he thought he’d never see again,” Kisuke patted her hand.

They sat and waited until Ichigo came out of the office. Rukia jumped up and ran over, grabbing him by the hands. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Ichigo nodded. “Uh, yeah, just talked about a few things. Maybe I should let my family know I’m back. I can always leave Kon with my body so the girls would have me, and I could come here.”

“Would you be more comfortable staying at the shoten?” Kisuke said as he came up beside Rukia.

Ichigo blinked and looked at him. “Uh, yeah, I think maybe. I still don’t want to put them in danger by being back at home just yet. They can come see me there.”

“Ichigo?” came a new voice, and Ichigo looked up to see Renji coming over.

Rukia turned and nodded. “Urahara-san found him. We just got him from the World of the Living and gave him his powers back,” she said.

Renji just stared at him for a moment. “What happened, man?” he asked, looking him over. “You… well, you look like shit.”

Ichigo sighed and gave him a half smile. “Thanks.”

“I mean, sorry, that probably wasn’t the right thing to say,” Renji said when he realized Rukia was glaring at him.

Ichigo did look bad, though, Kisuke thought as he looked at him. He was thin, and obviously had not had the chance to work on staying in shape. He didn’t think he’d gotten into drugs, at least, he hoped not. His hair was long and shaggy, rather unkempt, and it looked like he’d been wearing eyeliner and maybe some other makeup. He was also pale; no doubt having been inside most the time over the last few years during the day.

 “A lot of stuff happened,” Ichigo said, and Kisuke noticed the slight pinking of his cheeks. “Look, it’s a long story and I’m tired of talking, okay?”

Renji exchanged a glance with Rukia. “Okay, yeah, I got it. What are you planning?”

“Going back to see my father and sisters, I think,” he said, but he still didn’t look happy about it.

“Let’s go and do that. I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic to see you,” Kisuke said, trying to lighten the mood, though as heavy as it was, it was unlikely.

They went ahead and set up with Byakuya to use the senkaimon and head back to the World of the Living after Ichigo picked up his body. Rukia opted to come with them after getting permission from Ukitake-taichou. Everyone was wanting to know what happened, and where Ichigo had been, but he just put them off, saying he’d explain later. Kisuke didn’t think he’d ever really explain to many people. They came out near the shoten and Kisuke led them both inside.

“I’ll call your father, and have him come here,” Kisuke said as Ichigo looked around the shoten. Nothing had really changed in the last three years, more, really.

He went in and picked up the phone, dialing Isshin. There was a ring, and it was picked up. “Urahara?”

“Yeah, Isshin, I have news. I found Ichigo.”

There was silence on the other end. “You did?” he said finally.

“I brought him home, but he’s still afraid the Yakuza could be looking for him, so he wants to stay here,” Kisuke told him.

“I see. I’ll get the girls and be right there,” he said and hung up.

Kisuke went into the back where Ichigo and Rukia were sitting around the tea table. He smiled. “Your father is on his way with your sisters. I’ll put on tea,” he said and went to the kitchen.

He was about finished when he heard someone come in. He brought the tea and sat it down as Isshin and the two girls came into the room.

“Anaki!” Yuzu exclaimed and came around to hug him. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah, I am,” Ichigo said, hugging her. Karin came around and waited until Yuzu let go, hugging him afterward.

“Son, I’m so glad to see you. You can’t imagine how worried we’ve been.” Isshin didn’t ask any questions, and for that Kisuke was glad. When he found out what Ichigo was doing, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

“What happened?” Yuzu asked. “The police said they couldn’t find you!”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have been able to trace where I went. The Yakuza sent me to America. That’s how I ended up in Missouri, and it wasn’t that great a place for me. But I’m home now,” Ichigo said, smiling at her and petting her hair where she kneeled beside him.

“But how’d you get home?” Karin frowned, then she looked at Kisuke. “Ah,” she said to herself, not asking anymore.

“Kisuke helped me. But I want to make sure you’re safe, so I’m going to stay here with Kisuke until I know no one is coming for me,” he said, nodding.

“You’re not coming home?” Yuzu said, teary eyed.

“I’ll just be here for a little while. When I’m sure it is completely safe, I’ll come home for good, alright?” he said.

“I get it.” Karin nodded and sipped her tea.

“Girls, why don’t you tell Ichigo what’s happened since he’s been gone? I need to talk to Urahara,” Isshin said and looked to Kisuke.

Kisuke sighed, knowing that if anyone had to tell Isshin what happened, it was going to be him. “We’ll be in the kitchen,” he said, patting Ichigo on the back and walking around the table, wondering what he was going to tell him.

They came into the kitchen. “So, what happened?” Isshin asked, turning to face him.

“I found him in Missouri, St. Louis, and he was working the streets,” he said softly.

“Working the streets?” Isshin frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“He’d taken to prostitution.”

Isshin blinked but didn’t say anything for a full minute. “Why?”

“From what I understand, the Yakuza sent him to New York, where he was given to a mafia man. This man brutalized him for nearly two years. Ichigo eventually killed him and got away, but he was being pursued. He was helped by some people that got him an ID and a job in St. Louis, as well as transportation, but it came at a cost. He was working the river docks until he was injured and couldn’t work anymore.” Kisuke sighed. “He had to do something to get money, and his ID was going to be flagged as false if he tried to work anywhere legitimate. So, sex work was where they had him go.”

Isshin blew out a long breath. “That’s a lot. He looks terrible, so it’s obvious he wasn’t being well taken care of,” Isshin said, surprisingly calm.

“He’s embarrassed, and I doubt he’ll talk about it much. But I think he may talk to me, just simply because I found him,” Kisuke told him, leaving out the part where they’d kissed. He knew that was going to become an issue eventually, but for now he wasn’t going to come near that subject.

“Are you sure that staying here is the best?” Isshin asked, looking at him seriously.

Kisuke nodded. “He’s terrified that the Yakuza will come for his family. He feels like he’s better able to defend himself here. I’ll look into the Yakuza and find out if he’s off their radar or not.”

“Do you think he’ll come home, or will he have Kon take over?” Isshin asked.

“That I’m not sure, we’ll have to see what he decides. I’ll get him cleaned up at least while he’s here. I’d say bring him clothes, but I doubt they’ll fit anymore as thin as he is now.” Kisuke sighed. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Let’s go back to him,” he said, nodding at Kisuke.

They headed back to the tearoom where Yuzu was telling everything about her boyfriend and how she was going to be starting university soon. Karin was listening and adding to what she was saying here and there, and Ichigo was just listening. They continued to talk for a while, and then Isshin stepped forward.

“Ah, girls, we should let Ichigo rest,” he said.

“Aw, really? Already?” Yuzu said, frowning.

“Really, he needs to rest. He’s had a busy day. He’s come halfway around the world, after all,” Isshin said.

They headed out, leaving Ichigo sitting at the tea table with Rukia. Kisuke came back after they left and looked at them. “They were glad to see you,” he said.

Ichigo sighed, not looking happy at all. “So much has changed.”

“But not everything,” Rukia said, taking his hand. “But your father is right. You should rest.”

“Yeah, it was night when I left America, wasn’t it? I haven’t slept in a while,” he said.

“Come,” Kisuke said, reaching for his hand. “I’ve got a room.”

“Can’t I stay with you?” Ichigo said, surprising both Kisuke and Rukia.

Kisuke adjusted his hat and looked at Rukia. “Ah, well, I suppose, if that’s what you want,” he said.

Rukia stood up too. “I’ll head back to Soul Society. I’ll leave my Gigai in the back. I’ll see you soon, Ichigo,” she said, hugging him.

Ichigo hugged her back, then looked to Kisuke as she left. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Kisuke asked. “I have no idea what might happen.”

“That’s okay. I’m tired and I don’t want to be alone,” he said, giving Kisuke a shy smile.

Kisuke nodded, taking his hand and leading him back to his bedroom. The bed was big enough for both of them, and Ichigo, to Kisuke’s surprise, stripped down to his boxer shorts without a second though about it. Kisuke slipped into bed after putting on a set of pajamas, and let Ichigo lie down. Kisuke felt him snuggle in next to him, and he wrapped his arms around him, knowing he needed contact. Before long, he fell asleep, and then Kisuke faded off to sleep as well.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

The Arrancar that Russo had become became powerful quickly, and he kept looking for his obsession. It wasn’t until he felt him cross the realms that he knew where to find him. He still remembered from his days of living. He remembered everything about Ichigo. And he intended to find him and drag him to Hueco Mundo where he would possess him again.

“Russo, sir,” came a meager voice.

Russo turned from his perch in the throne room of Las Noches. “What is it?”

“The prey we are watching has entered the World of the Living,” the short, dark-haired Arrancar said softly.

“He has, has he?” Russo said. “Do you know where?”

“We do. We have identified people around him, though, that are powerful Shinigami. They may be a problem.”

“They will be no problem. He has family, does he not, human family?” Russo looked at him, looking down the mask fragment that laid across his nose that looked like a vulture’s beak.

“Yes, they’ve been identified, and I think we can find them again,” the Arrancar said.

“Then, that’s what I’ll need,” he said with a smirk.