"So then what is it?" Shinji asked, entirely losing his laidback demeanor and becoming deadly serious.
"The most logical assumption? He's been eaten by a hollow."
He touched the pick to the metal strings with his right hand while his left hand slid up and down the neck, slowly fretting away a climbing melody. It was Chad who first introduced him to the guitar and taught him how to play.
He had spent hours every day practicing what his best friend had taught him and soon began to pick up different arrangements from the internet. Learning classical blues from the likes of B.B. King to the alchemical monstrosities of Jimi Hendrix, he revealed in the beautiful sounds of the world's most popular instrument.
It was a shame a near whole two years went by without him picking one up. The whole sordid affair with Aizen left him pursuing more aggressive troubles than leisure ones. Day in and day out, he threw himself into a hellish regime, fighting with demons both out and within. Blood, sweat and, perhaps, a few tears came down to the climax of his final showdown with the megalomaniacal genius of Sosuke Aizen.
Three years.
That's how much time has lapsed since he gave up his powers. Three years since he exchanged his powers for the final defeat of Aizen and the guaranteed safety of his friends of family. Three years since he sentenced himself to the bleak and meager existence of a normal human teenager.
His hands quickened their movements as the momentum of the sound built and the guitar began to screech and let out a sweet sound of bitterness.
He was nearly nineteen now and was close to finishing to finishing his first semester of college. Having made his decision to study under as a Bachelors of Business Administration, he left Karakura town and moved to the dorms of Tokyo University. Though his family and friends protested him leaving to live so far away, in reality, it was something they had secretly rejoiced behind his back.
He wasn't stupid, he knew that they wanted him as far away as possible from the realities of his situation. Though why on Earth they felt the need to isolate him and treat him as if he were made out of glass was beyond him. If there's one thing he couldn't stand, it was being pitied. And that was exactly what they were doing.
His hands began to close across the metal plated strings and the furor of the sound picked up. The slow sorrow picked up into indignant rage as the guitar roared in reflection of its master. His fingers, swift and deadly, churned soft fretting into cold shredding.
They had taken to ignoring him.
Chad, Uryu, Orihime, Tatsuki…they all pushed him away fearing that he would lose himself in melancholy if he were faced with everything he had given up. Even his own family began distancing themselves from him. His father, ever the idiot, practically ignored him when he was around the house. Karin never talked to him anymore and she always ran off to Urahara's place, trying to keep her activities a secret from him. Yuzu was the same, except, instead of outright pushing him away, she would stare him distantly as if he would fall to pieces any minutes. His sisters, despite their best efforts, were never quite capable of successfully lying to him.
Idiots, the lot of them.
The ferocity of the guitar died down as his fingers calmed and his movements fell back into a strong and hollow riff. He closed his eyes in a silent sigh and tilted his head, letting the soothing sounds of his emotions wash over him.
Ichigo Kurosaki never felt so entirely alone in his life.
Although he never held it against his friends and family as they were only doing what they thought best for him. Even if they were doing it in the most retarded way possible. His time in the Dangai, the year he spent in constant conflict with himself, left Ichigo older, wiser and, perhaps yes, more world-weary. Though he liked to consider himself the same person he had always has been.
Still, Ichigo was never one to hold grudges. He had long since decided to move on with his, now all too human, life. No point trying to chase after something he never should have had in the first place. It was one of the reasons he had yet to demand answers from his father regarding his questionable 'human' lineage.
Yet, despite his acquired maturity and patience, it still hurt to know that the very people he had fought and died (twice in fact) for were pushing him to such a great distance. Such was his lot in life.
As his hands came to a steady slow, he muted the hum of the music on one last powerful note before silencing the whole surge of emotions with his palm.
Opening eyes marred with a distant sadness, Ichigo let out a soft sigh before taking his guitar overhead, unplugging it and placing down on its rack. He leaned down and flipped his amp off. As he stood, he let out another sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
Playing his music always left him in a sober mood.
Staring up at the ceiling Ichigo let out a soft, "…Yeah."
He decided that he could use a nice hot drink to go hand in hand with his mellow thoughts. Going into his bedroom, he quickly threw on a change of clothes.
While Ichigo never considered himself to be one of the 'popular kids' he always dressed fashionably whenever he went out. He put on dark grey jeans that were faded, a light beige shirt and a black leather jacket with a fur collar. As Ichigo moved to grab his keys off the dresser he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.