(no subject)
Day and night have started to blur together for Ichigo. It happens, he supposes, when all your time is spent indoors, underground, away from the sun and the moon and people. People that don't spend their days beating you up, anyways. He misses those kinds of people sometimes, but it's worth it. Besides, he has this place for that.
Pushing open the door, the Shinigami glances over his shoulder to make sure nobody in the cruddy cave is watching him. Satisfied that he's in the clear, he lets it swing shut behind him - listening for the little click, just to be sure - before he makes his way over to the bar.
It's actually refreshing to be around so many new faces, so many people he doesn't know, probably never will. Seeing the same eight faces time and again, day after day, gets dull fast, especially when you don't particularly like any of them. So many strangers and so many strange people all around him is suddenly seeming like a good thing.
Pushing open the door, the Shinigami glances over his shoulder to make sure nobody in the cruddy cave is watching him. Satisfied that he's in the clear, he lets it swing shut behind him - listening for the little click, just to be sure - before he makes his way over to the bar.
It's actually refreshing to be around so many new faces, so many people he doesn't know, probably never will. Seeing the same eight faces time and again, day after day, gets dull fast, especially when you don't particularly like any of them. So many strangers and so many strange people all around him is suddenly seeming like a good thing.