FicWad

Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Tite Kubo and ShonenJump. Things like this would happen to Ichigo if I owned him.



--



"Ichigo?"

Ichigo blinked before his eyes averted to meet dark blue ones. Rukia gave Ichigo a concerned look as she climbed through his open window and sat next to him on his bed.

"Hey," he greeted impassively as he sat up.

"Hey," the female shinigami greeted back. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

Ichigo sighed, "Yeah, I'm good."

Rukia was silent for a while, afraid that whatever she'd say might upset her friend. She had been concerned for Ichigo for a while. She wanted to ask him so many things but there was nothing she could say. She had asked him the same question once before only to be snapped at. She bit her bottom lip anxiously as she tried to find the right words.

"Really, Rukia, I'm fine,"Ichigo finally said, as if he read her mind, though he didn't sound quite assuring.

"Ichigo," she sighed. "I can't help it if I'm worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately."

The orange haired soul reaper did not reply. He kept his vision at nothing in particular but away from Rukia's searching eyes.

Honestly, he hadn't been himself. Not after what had happened. The incident in the bath had changed Ichigo. He was almost always tense, jumpy, and surprisingly paranoid. But over all he'd gotten depressed. He was hurting inside, as if something was eating away at him. He hated himself for letting whomever it was take advantage of him so easily. He knew he could've fought back... so why hadn't he?

"Ichigo?"

"Hmm?" he looked over to Rukia's concerned eyes.

"You seemed far just now. What's on your mind? You know you can tell me."

Ichigo shook his head, "Don't worry, it's nothing."

"You know it's never good to keep secretes from your friends, Ichigo," she sighed deeply while standing up and making her way back to his window.

Ichigo found the curious pattern on his blanket quite interesting. He began to pick at the material, his brown eyes never leaving it as he spoke. "You wouldn't understand. It's... complicated."

Rukia shook her head in disapproval, "You know me better than that, Ichigo. But, fine. Feel free to tell me when you feel like it. You know I'm always here for you."

And with that, the female Soul Reaper left.

The orange haired teenager sighed deeply as he shut the window after Rukia. He stared out the window for along while, lost in thought. Depression had set in so deeply, Ichigo would get lost in his own sad notions. He hated feeling this way, so used, so... worthless. He felt empty and robbed of everything. So many words too complex to explain the flood of emotions he'd been feeling.

It was bad, feeling what he felt, but he kept it so locked up and too himself that no one knew what was going on-or rather, no one wanted to ask what was going on. The times that someone did care enough to ask, Ichigo would find excuses for the reason why he couldn't answer them. That's just how he wanted it-for no one to know. Why worry them with something he could handle just fine?

"That's just it... I /can't/handle it."

He sighed in frustration before getting up to prepare himself for his daily morning assault from his father. Since that day in Seireite, his whole inner world had changed. At least everything else around him remained intact. Ichigo opened the window again and moved back, readying for-

"MORNIIINNG ICHIGOOO!"

Isshin lunged through the open window only to be tripped by Ichigo's arm and go tumbling down on to the floor.

"Up already? It's only Sunday!"His father pointed out as he stood up. True, on Sunday's Ichigo slept in before he went along his chores. But as of late he'd been unable to sleep. As silly as it was, he was paranoid to relax. That and Rukia decided to drop by a little early.

"What do you want out of my life?" Ichigo sighed as he sat back on his bed.

"You think you're going to be alright alone by yourself today? Your sisters are spending the night at afriend's house and I'll be out for the night and I left a sign saying that-

"I'll be fine," he finished.

Isshin quirked up an eyebrow in question, dropping his crazy act for once and becoming quite serious once he noticed the odd tone in his son's voice. "Are you alright? You sick?"

"I'm fine," Ichigo repeated. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason.... Just wondering how my boy is doing," he replied.

"I'm-

"Fine," he finished. Ichigo blinked up at him before scowling at his father.

"I know whatever it is that's bothering you, you can handle by yourself, right? Just a reminder, I'll always be here to help you out."

Ichigo nodded slowly, looking away from the old man. "I know. Thanks."

The bearded man smiled before trying to punch Ichigo. The tangerine haired boy was not having it, so he grabbed his fathers arm and flipped him out the window.

"See you tomorrow, my booooooyyy!!" he called as he fell down the side of the house.

Ichigo grunted before falling back on his bed and tossing a part of his blanket over his closed eyes. He turned over on his side and let out a deep breath, hoping he could fall asleep. Unfortunately he was unable to, just like previous nights. And just like every night, he would stay up thinking.

His thoughts would start out alright. Little things like school, his friends, and his Soul Reaper duties would come to mind. Yet his thoughts would drift off and he'd think about that one night in the Seireite baths. He thought about the reasons why he hadn't fought back and why he had let the man have his way with him.

The one thing that bothered Ichigo most was that his rapist could've been a comrade.

It had already been two weeks and Ichigo had yet to find the unknown man. He tried to figure it out with the little clues he had, but it was like trying to put together a large puzzle with missing pieces.

No... Ichigo had all the pieces. He just didn't want to fit them together to see the picture. What if it was someone he knew? What if his rapist was a close friend? Then what?

But he couldn't just leave things the way they were. The man obviously knew Ichigo. And Ichigo obviously hated him. There were only a handful of people he hated, and even less of the ones Ichigo made sure they knew it.

Ichigo groaned as he rolled over in his bed again.

Whomever that person was who raped him-friend or not-had another thing coming.