#because you and Shiro are going to be the ones dealing with Ichigo’s baggage honestly 😂

[black--sun]

Ichigo snorts. He would. He’s competitive like that. 

He doesn’t miss how Shiro changes that pronoun, but he doesn’t correct it. Ichigo glances over. Shiro seems to have thought about it enough not to be surprised by the question about his partner. “Why’s that?” Just because Shiro trusts him doesn’t mean Ichigo will. Though if he wanted to kill Shiro, he likely had all kinds of opportunities by now. 

He presses his lips and his expression goes bland, humor drying. “Yeah. It must feel pretty bad to have the decision made for you.” But he shakes off the knee jerk need to throw the irony back in Shiro’s face. Too late not to do it, but he curbs the need to rant. “You’ll be a target if you’re right in the middle of it.” He’s not sure Shiro cares. He cares. 

Ichigo sighs. Urahara and his bombs and Yukio and his drones. Ichigo didn’t want it to be national news worthy, but fat chance of stopping it when everyone in the city might hear. “They’re bringing explosives. It’s going to be a mess.” But hopefully a mess that leaves Shiro’s future enemies second guessing whether they want to be on his bad side or not. As if Shiro needed help with that. His enemies are clearly the ones that thought they could sidle up from behind him and take care of him quietly. “They have it covered. Even I’m just going as damage control. I guess if you’re determined, you could pick off a few guys. Just stay out of the crossfire.” He’s suddenly picturing Shiro as a tommy gun wielding maniac from one of the old gangster movies he liked as a kid. It’s not even a hard sell.

Shiro scoffs, but concedes, "Of course I'd do the same thing. So would you."

The overhead light is shut off and it's immediately more cozy and more intimate. For some reason, it catches Shiro off guard, like maybe he wasn't expecting there to be any actual sleeping or getting comfortable. Just talking and pretending everything is fine and normal until they both pass out. Regardless, after a moment, he sinks down into the blankets a little bit. He's always appreciated being warm and cozy and comfortable. When Ichigo climbs into bed and rests close enough to maintain that contact, he tries not to overthink it. He lets himself relax into it instead, and just enjoys the familiar warmth while he can.

He glances over at Ichigo's reassurances and shrugs. "Yeah. I always do." We. As if any of his problems are Ichigo's anymore. He sighs a quiet breath and flops down flat on the mattress, careful not to spill the last little swallow in his glass. "I don't know. I thought so. Still do, I guess. I don't think he's involved in trying to kill me, anyway."

He turns his head to give Ichigo a more direct look, arching a brow. Is that a joke? "You think someone's gonna put a price on me and I'm gonna stay out of the fray?" He laughs, then ducks sheepishly and peeks over at Yuu. "Anyway, you know I like to get my hands dirty. There's no way I'm staying back. And your friends sound fun. You promised explosives." He sits up enough to finish off his drink, then lays back down and blindly reaches over Yuu to find the nightstand to deposit his glass onto.