Part 5 Are you content with your choices?

" Part 5 Are you content with your choices? "

"Are you content with your choices?"Ryuken's voice was like ice, each word sharp enough to cut through the sterile hospital air. His piercing gaze fixed on Ichigo with an intensity that felt like a blade searching for any crack in armor. He sat with deliberate calm, his posture as rigid as steel, yet the weight of his presence seemed to press down on the room like a suffocating fog.Ichigo met that glare with defiance, his jaw tightening, his fists clenching at the sheets beneath him. But then it hit—a crushing weight on his shoulders, suffocating and unyielding. Ryuken's Reiatsu pressed down on him with surgical precision, a silent reprimand that demanded compliance. Ichigo's defiance cracked. He flinched, his eyes breaking away as a flicker of frustration and helplessness crossed his face. The pressure lifted abruptly, leaving him gasping in its absence, the room unnervingly silent.Ryuken exhaled, the sound heavy with disdain. Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if Ichigo's very presence was an irritation. He set the glasses down on the table beside the hospital bed with deliberate care, his movements calm but laden with meaning."Didn't we have an agreement?" Ryuken asked, his tone measured yet laced with reproach. "If you recovered, I would tell you about my connection to your mother."The words hung in the air like a challenge.Ichigo's head snapped up, his glare returning with renewed intensity. His crimson eyes burned with an unspoken demand, raw and unrelenting. He didn't speak, but the message was clear: Stop stalling. Tell me what I need to know.Ryuken's gaze remained steady, his face a mask of impenetrable calm. If anything, his silence only deepened the suffocating tension that lingered between them, a battle of wills neither seemed eager to concede.Ryuken could outlast him. Raising a stubborn child like Uryu had honed his patience into something like a weapon, or perhaps it was simply his nature—unshakable, resolute. Either way, he could afford to wait.But then, something shifted. Ichigo's voice broke the tension."How long was I gone?" he asked, his voice low but charged with an underlying urgency.The question gave Ryuken pause. For the first time, a flicker of something unreadable passed through his otherwise composed expression—a subtle acknowledgment of his surprise.Ryuken's face was sharp as he leaned forward, his gaze honing in on Ichigo, dissecting him with cold precision. His gaze narrowed, calculating every word, every slight movement."How long was I gone before anyone even bothered to look for me?!" Ichigo's voice cracked, raw with disbelief and pain. He clutched his chest, his hand trembling over his heart. Ryuken's gaze flicked to the gesture, noting the instinctive display of vulnerability like a piece of valuable information. His mind worked quickly, cataloging the details, even as the questions piled upRyuken's mind quickly pieced together Ichigo's meaning, the implications clicking into place with cold precision. His thoughts shifted to the woman who had both saved and abducted Ichigo—her manipulative abilities were now evidently used. It confirmed his suspicions: she had likely employed some form of mental control on Ichigo during the weeks he was with her and judging by his reaction to the date—with the information Nurse Sanae had evidently provided—Ichigo had been completely unaware of the true passage of time, likely dazed throughout the ordeal.It seemed Ryuken had another individual to question—thoroughly.As for a response, Ryuken found himself at a rare loss. How could he calm Ichigo when no one, to his knowledge, had been searching for him? The situation was far more complicated than it appeared on the surface.Ryuken straightened in his chair, his expression unreadable as he considered his next words carefully. Honesty would cut too deeply, but false reassurance wasn't his style. He exhaled softly, as he met Ichigo's distraught gaze."Ichigo," Ryuken began, his tone sharp and measured, though laced with an uncharacteristic edge of restraint. "To my knowledge, your absence went largely unnoticed—or perhaps, more accurately, it was noticed but not questioned. Those who know you likely assumed you'd simply taken an early leave or decided to distance yourself from school for a time as I was told this wasn't your first tim- ""Not during her month!" Ichigo's voice erupted, raw and trembling with unfiltered rage and heartbreak. His fists clenched tightly, trembling as he fought to steady his breath, but the storm inside him refused to be silenced. "The one time that actually matters—the one time I make sure I'm always there—and I was just... forgotten? Like I didn't exist?" His voice cracked, the weight of his words thick with pain. "On her death anniversary, no one even noticed I wasn't there?"His chest heaved as he grabbed the fabric over his heart, his emotions threatening to spill over. "Do you know what that day means to me? What it meant to her?! You said you knew her" His eyes burned as they locked onto Ryuken, the fury giving way to something more fragile, more human. "And... no one questioned why I wasn't there?" Ichigo's voice wavered, his anger twisting into disbelief, then hurt. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he fought to keep his voice steady. "I know my family was there—they had to be! There's no way they wouldn't go to her grave!" He paused, his breath hitching, his chest tightening with an ache he couldn't suppress."And they really thought I'd miss it?!" His voice cracked, rising to a shout as his emotions spilled over. "After everything—after all this time—they just assumed I wouldn't show up for her?!" The rawness in his tone spoke volumes, his pain etched into every word. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, burning with a mix of betrayal and anguish as he looked away, unable to meet Ryuken's impassive gaze any longer."And I... I missed it... I actually missed" Ichigo's voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief as the weight of his words sank in. His hands shook as they hovered near his chest, his breath uneven. "I fucking missed it... her death anniversary. The one day I can't—no, shouldn't—ever forget. And I wasn't there..." His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists as though trying to hold himself together.His expression twisted, anger and pain battling for dominance. "If... if someone had found me... if they'd tried to find me..." His voice rose, his frustration spilling out in every word. "I wouldn't have missed it! They jus—Before Ichigo could spiral further, Ryuken's firm hand grasped his shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence. The grip wasn't cruel, but it wasn't gentle either—it was deliberate, commanding, an anchor to halt the storm brewing within Ichigo.Ichigo froze, his ragged breathing filling the silence as he looked up at Ryuken. His eyes were wild, filled with desperation, seeking something—answers, understanding, anything. But Ryuken's face remained stoic, his gaze piercing."Enough," Ryuken's voice sliced through the whirlwind of Ichigo's thoughts, calm yet unyielding, like a cold wind cutting through a storm. It wasn't harsh, but it carried the weight of authority, a reminder of the control Ryuken always wielded, even when it was least expected. "You can drown in self-pity later," he continued, his tone steady but firm. "Right now, you need to rest. We'll assess your condition first—whether you're stable enough to even function."Ryuken's eyes narrowed, assessing Ichigo's disheveled state, noting the flicker of vulnerability beneath the storm of rage and frustration. "Once you show signs of being mentally present again, we'll visit her grave. I'll tell you everything you want to know. But you need to be able to handle it. Nod if you understand."For a moment, Ichigo's eyes locked with his—wild, burning with emotion, yet somewhere deep within, there was a glimmer of something softer. Something almost desperate for direction, for control again. His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened as he wrestled with his emotions. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he wasn't sure he could even find it in himself to nod. The words felt like a weight he wasn't sure he could bear, but Ryuken's unwavering gaze didn't offer him the luxury of ignoring it.The silence between them stretched, tense and heavy, until Ichigo finally gave the smallest of nods. It wasn't agreement—it was more like surrender, a recognition that there was no other option, at least not right now.Ryuken's expression softened, just slightly, as he withdrew his hand from Ichigo's shoulder, but his eyes remained sharp, watching. "Good. Rest first. You'll need all your strength for what's coming."Ichigo didn't speak, his eyes still clouded with turmoil, but there was a subtle shift—a fragile acknowledgment of the direction Ryuken had offered him. The storm wasn't over, but at least for now, there was a path forward.' After all, I have to go forward... It's the least I can do to them '......* Riii-Badup... Badup... *Ryuken stared at the screen of his Samsung SGH-T100, his eyes narrowing as the phone's persistent ringing came to an abrupt halt. The silence that followed was almost louder than the sound of the call itself. He frowned, his finger hovering over the call button, but no matter how long he waited, there was no sign of the call being picked up. Just the soft, mechanical click of the line disconnecting.With a quiet exhale, he lowered the phone, a hint of frustration tugging at his features."Soul King be damned... Isshin, what the hell are you doing?" Ryuken muttered under his breath, reaching for a pack of cigarettes. He only ever smoked these when he was with Isshin—something about the tradition between them, even if it didn't seem to make sense anymore. The flick of the lighter filled the silence, the smoke curling up into the air as he leaned back in his chair.Knock. Knock. Knock.The sound of the knocks echoed through the office. Ryuken didn't flinch, his gaze flickering towards the door as he quickly snuffed out the cigar and returned it to its box."Come in," he called, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of impatience.The door opened, and in walked Kyra. Ryuken's sharp eyes immediately locked onto her, a silent, lingering glare waiting for her to speak."Yo, I heard the kid had a—"Kyra's words faltered, her sentence dying in her throat as a heavy, oppressive sensation descended on the room. It was an overwhelming, almost suffocating force, like the air itself had thickened in an instant. Her Reikaku flared to life without thinking, instinctively sharpening her senses as the spiritual pressure around Ryuken intensified, pressing in from all sides.She could feel it—the sheer weight of his Reiatsu, its presence saturating the room like an unrelenting storm. The energy surrounding him wasn't just a visible cloud of blue. It was dense and compressed, almost suffocating, as though it were turning inward on itself, the edges darkening with a sharp, unnatural blackness that Kyra could almost see with her heightened senses. The Reiatsu was thick, oppressive, and it buzzed with a kind of energy that unsettled her—raw, untamed, and hungry for blood.Kyra squinted, feeling the slight tremor in her pulse as her focus deepened, her eyes flicking to the flickering veins beneath his skin. They were faint, but visible through her Reikaku. Glowing blue lines ran beneath the surface of his body, pulsing as if they were reacting to the intensity of the Reiatsu around him. It was the kind of energy she'd seen in battle-hardened individuals, the kind of spiritual pressure that felt as if it could crush everything in its path.What the hell...? Her heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching as she struggled to process the significance of it all. Ryuken wasn't just a man of calculation and control; he was someone who was harboring a force that was capable of destruction, something dark and alive beneath the surface.Despite the overwhelming pressure, Kyra stood her ground, refusing to show the full extent of the unease crawling up her spine. She couldn't show fear—not now, not with this much at stake. But her eyes never left Ryuken, trying to decipher his cold, calculating demeanor. Was he even aware of the raw power swirling around him? Or was this a part of him, something he could summon and suppress with a thought, a command?Her pulse quickened as her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. ' How far could this pressure go? ' Each pulse of Reiatsu reverberated through her, and with every passing moment, the weight of it grew heavier. It wasn't just his power that made her uneasy—it was how effortlessly it radiated from him, almost like he was barely trying to control it. Kyra couldn't help but wonder how close they were to the true potential of this power, how close they were to crossing a line that could get the attention of far more dangerous forces.Soul Society would pick up on this in an instant if they weren't careful. ' And that's why I can't release my own spiritual pressure, ' she thought grimly. To do so would only increase the likelihood of them sensing it. The last thing they needed was to attract unwanted attention—especially from those in the Soul Society who had a vested interest in tracking her down.Her mind flickered to a haunting image—a deranged clown, its twisted grin burned into her memory. A grotesque creation Soul Society had unleashed, not for justice, but for study. Study of her.No.She shut the thought down immediately, a cold shiver running through her. The mere memory threatened to drag her back to that hell, a place she vowed never to return to.With that thought locked firmly in her mind, she steeled herself and pressed forward, her every step defying the crushing weight that bore down on her. The pressure grew with each inch closer to Ryuken, coiling around her like a living thing, testing her resolve. It clawed at her senses, threatening to strip away her composure, but she refused to yield.Each breath felt heavier, each movement slower, as if the air itself conspired against her. Yet, her determination burned brighter, her defiance a silent declaration against the overwhelming force surrounding Ryuken."What happened?" Kyra asked, her tone steady despite the storm of spiritual pressure still lingering in the room. She understood Ryuken well enough over the week Ichigo was uncounciuos in the hospital to understand that this rare crack in his calm demeanor could only mean one thing—something had happened regarding the boy called Kurosaki Ichigo.Ryuken's piercing gaze remained fixed on her, the suffocating weight of his Reiatsu pressing down like an iron hand. He studied her with cold precision, searching for any cracks in her mask. When none appeared, the pressure eased—abruptly, as though a switch had been flipped."Will your technique leave any lasting effects on his mind?" he asked at last, his tone as sharp and clinical as a scalpel.She mused silently, wondering if he might have a second personality with how quickly he switched. Such phenomena weren't uncommon in the supernatural world, —she would know. After all, she had one herself.But still, she needed to disuade him quickly"None..." Kyra's voice was firm, but she felt Ryuken's piercing glare intensify. The tension in the room was palpable as the buildup of his Reiatsu pressed against her senses like a storm ready to break. This time, she wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't escalate into a fight."At least none permanent," she added quickly, her tone shifting to something almost defensive. "Short term, he might struggle a bit—easier to anger, sadness, maybe trouble controlling his emotions. But I didn't push him too far. I'm not some monster out here turning kids into drooling idiots."Ryuken's Reiatsu, which had been steadily building like the pressure before a thunderstorm, vanished in an instant, leaving the room eerily calm. The abrupt shift was almost as jarring as the weight of his spiritual energy itself. His eyes, sharp and unrelenting, bore into Kyra with a quiet intensity that was far more unnerving than any display of raw power."Tell me," he said, his voice smooth and precise, each word cutting through the silence like a scalpel, "do these outbursts make him act against his true nature, or are they genuine? Are these emotions his own, rooted in his beliefs, or are they distortions born of your meddling?"His tone carried no anger, only a cold, clinical curiosity that made Kyra's skin crawl. It wasn't the raw pressure of his Reiatsu or even the piercing gaze he directed at her; it was the unrelenting demand for absolute truth. This was a man who dissected everything to its smallest, most insignificant detail, turning even the faintest ambiguity into a source of doubt. In this room, under his scrutiny, there was no place for half-truths, no refuge in vagueness. She knew better than to try to obscure the facts—he would see through her in an instant.Not that she felt like lying right now. The stakes were far too high, and frankly, the cost of deception wasn't worth whatever fleeting advantage it might offer."No," she said finally, her voice steady despite the tension hanging between them. "That's not a part of my skill set. I may have connections capable of such things, but they're currently on the other side of the world—in Germany, to be specific. Completing another, more important job."Her words hung in the air, pointed yet intentionally sparse. She didn't offer further explanation, nor did she feel the need to. Still, the effect was almost immediate. Ryuken's gaze, sharp as a scalpel, lingered on her longer than necessary. She could see the faintest shift in his expression—a subtle raise of his eyebrow, a nearly imperceptible narrowing of his eyes. It was the kind of reaction that only someone as observant as Kyra would notice, but it was there: intrigue. The mention of Germany—the Quincies' ancestral homeland—had struck a nerve, or at the very least, triggered some buried curiosity.He didn't ask for details, not yet. But the silence that followed was charged, as though he was dissecting her words, breaking them apart to analyze what wasn't being said. She knew that silence well—it wasn't indifference. It was calculation.The oppressive weight in the room began to shift. The razor-edged intensity of his spiritual presence, which had been looming just moments ago, now seemed to ebb like a retreating tide. It wasn't gone entirely; Ryuken was too precise, too deliberate for that. But there was a marked difference. His posture loosened, if only slightly, and the cold detachment that defined him softened just enough to make the space feel breathable again.Kyra exhaled softly, careful not to make it too noticeable. The smallest glimmer of victory flickered in her mind—she had bought herself a reprieve, even if it was temporary."So, what exactly happened with the kid?" Kyra asked, her tone steady but laced with just enough curiosity to mask any underlying tension. "I heard he had some sort of mental breakdown." She paused for a moment, letting the weight of her words hang in the air before continuing with a sharp edge. "And I'd like to remind you—loud and clear—that part wasn't on me. That was all him after I left."Her gaze remained fixed on Ryuken as she spoke, searching for any flicker of reaction in his impenetrable demeanor. Despite the apparent calm in the room, the air between them felt charged, as though one wrong word might reignite the storm she'd only just managed to weather.Ryuken's cold, calculating eyes finally met hers, piercing through her facade as if peeling back every layer of her resolve. His voice, when it came, was devoid of anger—calm, precise, yet heavy with an unspoken accusation that cut sharper than any raised voice ever could."You happened," he stated simply, his words landing like a hammer blow.Kyra's mask faltered, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What the hell does that mean?" she asked, though her voice had lost a bit of its earlier confidence.Ryuken didn't flinch. If anything, his tone grew colder, his words deliberate and exacting. "While he was kidnapped, he discovered something far more devastating than captivity." He let the words hang for a moment, as though savoring the gravity of what he was about to reveal. "He found out that not one person—no friend, no ally, not even his own family—noticed or cared enough to find his absence suspicious. No one bothered to look for him."Kyra blinked, the weight of his statement crashing down on her like a wave. She hadn't been prepared for this. She had steeled herself for anger over the kidnapping, for sharp accusations, or even some veiled insult to her. But this—this revelation—was something else entirely. It struck a nerve she didn't know was exposed.The bleakness of it, the quiet cruelty of the truth, wrapped around her chest like a vice. And worse, the resemblance to things she'd buried deep within herself made her stomach twist in ways she wasn't accustomed to."And you think that's my fault?" she challenged, though her voice lacked its usual fire. A faint tremor had crept in, a crack in her defiance that hadn't been there before. "That's... not on me. I didn't shape his isolation. I didn't make the people in his life so blind, so indifferent, that they didn't even notice he was gone—or care enough to look for him."Still it was baffling—no, it was downright surreal—that no one had come looking for him. Not a single worried face, no frantic search parties, no desperate calls or whispers through the spiritual veins of Karakura. Most unsettling of all was the absence of the Shinigami. They should have noticed weeks ago—should have sensed the abrupt silence where his presence once flickered. The badge, their lifeline to monitoring him, had gone cold: its tracking disabled, its recordings silenced, its sealing mechanisms nullified. Yet, not a soul from Soul Society had stirred. It was as if they had willfully turned a blind eye, leaving the boy to vanish without a trace."No," Ryuken replied, his gaze unrelenting, piercing through her words as if searching for cracks in her reasoning. His voice was calm—too calm—but behind that composure, there was something sharper, colder, a weight she couldn't quite place.His next words fell like a knife, deliberate and precise. "But you were there. A catalyst, if not the cause. A thread in the fabric of his unraveling."Kyra's jaw tightened. The words were clinical, detached, yet they felt uncomfortably personal, as though he'd peeled back a layer of her own defenses without permission. She forced herself to hold his gaze, even as unease gnawed at her edges."You think I pushed him to this?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with something she hated to admit—uncertainty.Ryuken's expression didn't shift, but his presence seemed heavier, as if the room itself bowed under the force of his cold calculation. "I think the boy's realization was inevitable. But inevitability is no comfort to those caught in its wake." His tone was flat, but the words carried a weight that lingered in the air, as though they held secrets he wasn't yet willing to reveal.Kyra didn't know how to respond. The silence that followed wasn't one of resolution—it was the kind that left questions hanging, unanswered and unwelcome. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was navigating a game she didn't understand the rules to, and Ryuken was the one holding all the cards."So?" she finally said, her voice steadier than she felt. "What exactly are you trying to imply?"Her words carried an edge, but it wasn't sharp enough to cut through the tension between them. She wasn't sure if she was challenging him, probing for answers, or simply trying to keep herself anchored in a conversation that felt like quicksand.Ryuken didn't respond immediately, and the pause was deliberate—designed to unnerve her, to remind her who held the upper hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, devoid of any warmth."I'm not implying anything, Kyra," Ryuken said, his voice sharp and clinical, each word delivered with the precision of a scalpel. "I'm stating a fact."He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room like a heavy fog. His gaze didn't waver, cold and unrelenting, pinning her in place as if daring her to object. Then, with deliberate calm, he continued, each syllable cutting deeper than the last."And that is why I'll need you to do something for me. You are to stop interacting with the boy—entirely. Leave him alone. Do not cross paths with him again. And more importantly, leave this town."The finality in his words was like the closing of a steel door. "Never return," he added, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.Kyra's smirk remained, but there was an unmistakable edge to her words. "Relax, Ryuken. This was always the plan. Ticket's secured, everything's in motion. I'll be gone before the day's out. Was just here to check on the kid, see if he's still breathing..."Her smirk faltered, vanishing completely as she caught Ryuken's unflinching stare. The weight of his gaze reminded her that she had a hand in the reason Ichigo wasn't alright.Ryuken's expression remained a mask of cold calculation as he observed Kyra, his voice calm but edged with a precision that seemed to cut through the air."I have no doubt that's true," he began, his tone measured, as though considering every word carefully. "But I'm also aware of something else—your desire to interrogate Ichigo, out of his hypnotized state. Possibly a flaw in your ability...."Kyra's eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and defiance, but she said nothing in response to Ryuken's words. His gaze was cold, unwavering, and beneath it, she could feel the weight of his silent command pressing down on her like a vice.Ryuken's voice, however, cut through the stillness like a blade. "So... go," he said, his tone dismissive, a sharp finality in his words that left no room for argument.The command was clear, and though she wanted to say something—anything to push back—Kyra knew there was nothing more to gain here. With one last, heated glance, she turned on her heel, the tension in the air lingering as her footsteps echoed faintly in the room.Ryuken's gaze followed her every step, his eyes never leaving her retreating figure, cold and calculating, as if waiting for any hint of defiance. When none came, the faintest flicker of something—perhaps satisfaction, perhaps disdain—flashed across his face. He finally relented, his posture easing as the tension in the room dissipated like smoke.With a subtle motion, he reached into his pocket, retrieving the cigarette he had discarded earlier. He brought it to his lips, the tip catching fire almost immediately as he inhaled deeply. The soft crackle of the match striking the air was the only sound that followed, punctuating the silence that hung between them.As the smoke curled around him, Ryuken slouched back into his chair, the sharp lines of his features softening for a brief moment as he let out a slow exhale. He seemed to crumble into the seat, his body no longer rigid but languid, as if the weight of the conversation had finally drained him. His eyes, still half-lidded, focused on the cigarette in his hand, as if it held all the answers he wasn't willing to voice aloud." Are you content with your choices Isshin ? "......"Thanks for all your help, Sanae-san," Ichigo muttered, his voice low and subdued as he finished jotting down notes about the differences between plant and human breathing. His pen hovered over the page for a moment longer, as if debating whether to write more, before he finally set it aside. Carefully, he closed the notebook and placed it next to his math notes, the stack of A4-sized paper neatly arranged but somehow feeling heavier than it should.He sat there for a moment, staring at the books in front of him, his expression unreadable. It wasn't the kind of silence that came from focus or contentment. It was something quieter, heavier—a silence that seemed to press down on him like a weight he couldn't shake."I guess... that's it for now," he said, his words barely louder than a whisper. He looked up at Sanae briefly, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I appreciate it. Really."It wasn't much, but it was all he could manage. Everything lately felt like going through the motions, as if he were trying to find something solid to hold onto in a world that had started to feel unfamiliar. The notebooks, the studying, even the simple act of saying thanks—it was all a way to keep moving forward, even if each step felt a little more hollow than the last.Ichigo leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the window. The faint light outside seemed distant, almost unreachable, and for a moment, he wondered if that was just how things were going to be now. Not bad, not good—just... quiet. Too quiet.Sanae stood quietly by the window, watching Ichigo as he sat at the desk, his shoulders slumped and his hand gripping a pen that barely moved across the page. She had been there all day, and half a week before that, as per Ryuken's instructions: " Don't leave the boy alone. Not for a second. "At first, she had thought it unnecessary. Kurosaki Ichigo didn't seem the type to need constant supervision. He was quiet, polite in a detached way, and stubbornly self-reliant. But as the days stretched on, she began to see the cracks—the hollowness in his voice, the emptiness in his eyes, the way he barely touched the food she brought him. He was falling apart, piece by piece, and it was as if he didn't care enough to stop it."Kurosaki-kun," she said softly, breaking the silence that had grown heavy in the room. "Are you alright?"Ichigo didn't look up. His pen hovered over his notebook, a few half-finished lines about photosynthesis scrawled across the page. "I'm fine," he muttered, the words automatic, like he'd rehearsed them a thousand times.Sanae frowned, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "That's not what I asked," she said gently but firmly. "And we both know that's not true."Ichigo's jaw tightened, his grip on the pen tightening as if it were the only thing anchoring him. "I don't know what you want me to say," he replied, his tone clipped. "You're here because Ryuken told you to be. So just... be here. You don't have to ask questions."Her heart ached at his words, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she took a step closer, pulling the chair from the corner and sitting down across from him. She placed her hands on the table, palms flat, her eyes locked on his downcast face. "You're right," she said. "I'm here because he told me to stay. But I'm not just following orders, Kurosaki-kun. I'm here because I care."He finally looked at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. "You care?" he said, his voice heavy with skepticism. "You don't even know me."Sanae held his gaze, unflinching. "You're right," she admitted. "I don't know you—not really. But I've seen enough to know you're in pain. And I kno—"AND YOU CARE?!" Ichigo's voice ripped through the room, raw and jagged, echoing off the sterile hospital walls. His fists slammed against the desk, making the pen and notebook jump. "YOU DON'T KNOW ME! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME! AND YOU CARE ENOUGH TO BE HERE?! A COMPLETE STRANGER IS HERE, AND MY FRIENDS... MY FAMILY... THEY'RE NOT EVEN HERE!"His chest heaved with the force of his outburst, his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. His crimson eyes dulled from exhaustion, burned with a mixture of anger and despair. His voice cracked as he continued, his rage faltering into something deeper, something broken. "What does that even mean, huh? What does it say about me that a nurse—someone who doesn't know a damn thing about me—is the only one who bothers to stay?"Sanae flinched at the sharpness of his words but didn't look away. She could see it now, clear as day—the storm brewing inside him, threatening to tear him apart. This wasn't actually about her; It was about the pain he carried, the isolation that weighed him down like an anchor.Ichigo slumped back into his chair, his head falling into his hands. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, barely audible. "They didn't even notice I was gone... I could've died, and they wouldn't have known. Or maybe they would've just... moved on. Like I was never there to begin with."The door creaked open, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled over the room. Ichigo didn't bother to lift his head, his shoulders hunched in defeat. Sanae turned toward the sound, startled, and found herself staring at Ryuken Ishida's imposing figure. His expression was unreadable, but his presence carried an undeniable weight, like a storm cloud rolling in.Ryuken stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the scene—the despondent boy, the worried nurse—before settling on Ichigo. "Get up," he said, his voice clipped and matter-of-fact. "It's time."Ichigo didn't move, his hands still tangled in his hair. "Time for what?" he mumbled, his tone heavy with disinterest.Ryuken adjusted his glasses, his cold stare unwavering. "To visit your mother's grave."The words hit Ichigo like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he didn't breathe. Slowly, he raised his head, his crimson eyes dull but simmering with a mix of emotions—grief, anger, guilt. But most of all...To be continued !Join my shitty discord server, as it will help me keep me focused on this story with ya guys help.https://discord.gg/vZsKNd2rWD