Well, For those of you that read this when we first uploaded… I suppose you know some of the plot. Haha! So sorry. We are so fucking clumsy! Here is the real chapter! Can you forgive us?
Greed: I will not say this more than once! There is serious OOCness in this! Ichigo is very weak-minded due to his second persona. Shiro is not that OOC only because he is a mean son-of-a-bitch, though he truly does love Ichigo and wish to keep him safe. The only one that isn't really out of character is Aizen. And the reason I say this is because he is a psychotic, sadistic, and unpleasant man… yup, that about sums him up. Hee hee.
Vanity: Yes, so there you have it. Do not complaint if you do not like the way we portrayed the characters, we did warn you.
Greed: This plot is entirely ours, though the characters are not. Enjoy anyway!
She walked down elegantly decorated halls. Doors with numbers stood out within the tasteful décor. White with black numbers. That was one of the only things really out of place. Otherwise, this dwelling could easily pass for a hotel or large home. The girl's eyes rested on the guard in front of her and then looked back to the one behind her. They were another thing that looked out of place in this building. They were brutish looking, not really meant for such an atmosphere.
Rukia watched as a nurse went from one room to the next. Hopefully she would catch Ichigo at a time where his medication wasn't so… influencing.
She looked around once more. Almost there. They were almost at her best friend's door. Room 15. How ironic, she mused. The staff of this facility really did have a since of humor.
One guard unlocked the door to Ichigo's room. It seemed to open slowly, though that couldn't be right. She just dreaded this time. The time she took, every two weeks, to come and see her beloved friend, once so bright and now so deteriorated. Broken. But, that was why he was here. To get well again. She had to trust in this institution, one of the top within the region. Surely they could cure what others could not. They had proven to be miracle workers.
Finally the door opened and she was led inside. One guard came in with her and the other stayed outside. Cautious lot, they were. But, Ichigo wouldn't hurt her. Surely he wouldn't. Enough! Look at the resident of the room! Her eyes focus upon her childhood friend.
Bright orange hair—there was no calling him a redhead—reach to his mid back. Ichigo didn't let anyone but his mother cut his hair, and she had been dead for almost six years. Dull eyes looked at the newcomers. His frail body was pushed up against the wall the bed rested upon. Even though there was no emotion upon his face, it seemed as if his body was trying to get away. His left arm clutched a stuffed animal to his side. His right was hidden. Rukia thought again that he was truly broken.
Four months. That was how long he had spent in this particular hospital. Before that he had been in and out of other centers for two years. Rukia hoped that this was the right place for the orange haired teen. He had always been the bright little brother around her neighborhood and school. And now, now he was a shell with a sleeping soul. There was nobody answering the calls that tried to connect.
She moved closer to the bed. "Ichigo?" she called out softly. "It's Rukia. I see you still have the stuffed dog I gave you. What was his name again? Zangetsu? He's very cute." Those dull, muddy eyes moved to look at the petite woman causing her to flinch. She hated those eyes. So lifeless. "I came by to see how you were doing. Last time we talked about your school. Do you remember?" she asked, hopeful as ever. Sometimes he would have lucid moments. This visit didn't seem to be one of those. The teen in the bed didn't even respond to her last question. "Ichi? I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you." It seemed that was all she was capable of today. Anymore and she would cry, and the doctor said that negative emotions would be counterproductive to the patient.
The older woman left the room with her guard.
The door closed softly.
And in the dim light that flooded the room a whisper came from chapped lips.
Greed: Short intro, but it works. It gets the mood going.
Vanity: I suppose we'll have the next chapter done shortly. Sorry for those of you wishing this was our story 'Unexpected Betrayal.' We actually started this one first, but got the idea for the other story in the middle of writing the first chapter of this one. Anyway, please review! It's always appreciated.