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But Ichigo—Ichigo sounds distinctly fifteen. The plaintive, withering "oh" he makes, reactive in the way characteristic of sex… It's not pleasure, though—pleasure doesn't sound like that. Sounds like someone on their last limb. (Kon can't move.)
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He wants Urahara to leave. (When did he get there, anyway?) It's embarrassing; he feels embarrassed. And scared. (It doesn't make sense—it's over, but the fear is making him nauseous.) What is he supposed to do? What do you do if it's your dad?
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Ichigo's father makes a poor choice.
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"Say, Shin-chan—how long did it take to convince the neighbors that you were just 'encouraging his independence' with your 'non-interventionist parenting,' when you really just wanted to see him flounder? It's a—motherfucking miracle he is where he is, no thanks to you," he hisses. Benihime rattles in his cane, glowing a blustery red. "I know you took her death hard, but you had no right to stop being a good father to him. He was nine, Isshin! And to do THIS—!"
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Ichigo attacked a doctor.
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Ichigo does not think or feel anything.
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… something like, "Oh, you're having flashbacks." It's so… impersonal, having that sort of horror and disturbance stuffed into a single word. But it's probably a little easier to think about it that way. Also a little easier when they dope him up. In fact, he has his own prescription now. (Those benzodiazepines are awesome.) They're also prescribing him antidepressants, because they say he's 'severely depressed.' He doesn't know the hell why …
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Renji talks to Urahara.
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He exhales, and looks out the window. "How bad is'e?" It's slightly rhetorical, slightly hopeful. Quiet. Urahara's face darkens. Renji doesn't see it—he assumes it from the silence.
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Ichigo and the girls begin their stay with Urahara
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"What are you talking about?"
"He couldn't have done that." -
Ichigo acknowledges what happens, but only intellectually.
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Disconnected, he downplays the assault and returns to Karakura High.
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More nightmares, grades start to drop, performance anxiety (school), development of agoraphobia, less than one hour of sleep a night, hallucinogenic experiences
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Ichigo is physically afraid of him. Urahara's good at not taking things personally when it's not personal, but this is different. It is personal. It's not a matter of subjective insecurity or the mind's illusion of self-relevance; Ichigo literally does not trust him with his safety—consciousness regardless—and it hurts his feelings. He's an adult. He can tell himself 'It's not about you' and 'He can't help it' a million times and in a million different ways, but …
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… and promptly starts to cry. This is so fucking ridiculous. Here he is, sitting at the table where his comrades routinely discuss fighting operations, having breakfast with his sisters and Urahara, of all people, and he hasn't been hungry for forever. (He doubts he can even manage okayu.) And then, of course, nobody knows how to respond to this …
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"…That's really, really insulting. And arrogant." "…" "Whether you like it or not, it so happens that we are friends. And friends—I don't know—HELP EACH OTHER!" "Yeah, and you're doing a great job of that. You pussyfooting around me makes me feel just swell—"
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Ichigo's depression hits a crippling low.
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Dawdling, she wets her lips. Ichigo fidgets, tugging at the comforter slightly— —making sure not to jar the bottle of pills hidden in his pillowcase. Technically, he's supposed to be weaning off the stronger anxiolytics. (And technically, they should be in Urahara's custody.) She adopts a pained, critical look—for a second, he worries he's been found out, but he knows that's not true. He narrows his eyes, though, daring her to judge him. (It's four in the afternoon, and he's still in bed.)
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"…Do I really look that much like you?" […] "I mean—I have your hair. And I guess I have your eyes, but…" […] "I dunno." […] "I think he hates me. But I don't think he hates me—does that make sense?" […]
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Urahara offers to homeschool Ichigo. Ichigo (sort of) considers it. "Not now."
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[Presumably fluoxetine]
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"…Do you know how ungrateful that sounds?" "Holy shit—see, you're doing it again! Why do I need to be grateful to you? I did not ask you to help—and why should I be grateful for you YELLING AT ME FOR NOT GETTING BETTER all the damn time? You've done nothing for me except make me feel worse!" "You make you feel worse! We just want to help. We spend every day with you—" "Now you're making me feel guilty again! And 'want to–'"
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His fingers are numb, tingling, hot; opening that door, the handle, the click—it's all electric to him, now— But there's a chill (A CHILL) finding a home in his chest. The tub—an empty tub is never that full. People just don't fill it that full; it'd overflow the second someone stepped in— There aren't any bubbles. There are no bubbles. (The water is that deserted grayish color, but it's not… It's not—) He runs. HE RUNS.
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"…How are we supposed to believe that? Ichigo, it'd be a different story if we haven't found you at the bottom of the bathtub before. It'd be a different story– if we haven't found you passed out with alcohol—do you know how dangerous that is with your—" "I KNOW! I know, I know, I know—it was stupid, and I'm sorry!" "I don't believe you! See, I don't know… I don't know if I'm going to walk into some room and find you dead—I don't know! You've done nothing… to make me believe that you—"
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Ichigo stays in the psychiatric ward.