(no subject)
Once Ichigo has been let out of his cell, after two long weeks of being stuck alone in a little room with a demon in his head, he leaves the bar right away. It's to be expected, of course. He's had nothing but terrible luck in this place lately.
What might surprise someone would be the fact that, not five minutes later, he comes back. This time he's got a few possessions with him. Clothes stuffed hurriedly into a bag, his guitar, stuff like that. He heads for the bar, asks for a room key, and vanishes upstairs. A few short minutes later, without his extra stuff, the teenager returns and heads for a booth, slumping there.
There. Done. He's cut ties to home, for now. No going back, no risk of becoming a danger to those he loves. Resting his head on his arms and slouching over the table, Ichigo lets out a weary sigh.
He really, really hates himself right about now.
What might surprise someone would be the fact that, not five minutes later, he comes back. This time he's got a few possessions with him. Clothes stuffed hurriedly into a bag, his guitar, stuff like that. He heads for the bar, asks for a room key, and vanishes upstairs. A few short minutes later, without his extra stuff, the teenager returns and heads for a booth, slumping there.
There. Done. He's cut ties to home, for now. No going back, no risk of becoming a danger to those he loves. Resting his head on his arms and slouching over the table, Ichigo lets out a weary sigh.
He really, really hates himself right about now.